Average John

Regret

2011-09-07T14:00:00.000-07:00

Don't ever regret anything. Live life with no regrets.

Ever heard of that before? If you know me well enough, you'll always hear me either say that to myself or preach that to others. I'd like to give a public apology if I've ever preached those words to you because I'm being a hypocrite and going back on my word. There are some things you just can't regret, like grades or not working hard enough or doing drugs.

I know what I regret. Where have I been this whole summer? Not helping out my mom at the house. Not catching up with my sister and asking her about her life-changing experience in Madrid, Italy, France, and all those crazy places. Not hanging out with the homies back home, who I've been through almost everything with in high school. Not playing basketball with my nephew who has looked forward to playing ball with his uncle in the summer ALL school year. Not taking my other little cousin out to get ice cream. What the hell have I been doing?

Taking summer school classes at UCLA. Not only have I messed up so badly this summer in terms of classes, I messed up because I missed out on something so important that I will never be able to get back. I will never be able to get back the time I missed with my family and friends in San Jose.

I will be going home tomorrow, for what I thought was going to be 6 days long. I was planning on coming back to LA before Thursday for training at my job. Instead, I just got an email from my supervisor telling me that training starts Tuesday, 2 days earlier. I wasn't planning on making everything right in 6 days, but how the hell am I supposed to even attempt to do any of those things in just 4 days? I'm not blaming this on anyone but myself. I've dug myself this hole, trying to do everything. Trying to get ahead. Trying to get all this experience to make me look good for medical school. But where is this getting me?

Is this what I really want? I know I want to be a doctor, but do I really want to lose San Jose?

Kids do the darnest things

2011-05-13T23:31:00.000-07:00

I've been working at a preschool (Early Care and Education Krieger Center) ever since I started college. Of course, this must have an impact on me somehow. Turns out, this experience has been one of my most memorable thus far. I've learned so much from these kids, who are only 2-5 years of age.

This 4-year-old, Liam, read me a Dr. Seuss book. Where he learned to read? I haven't got a clue. When did I learn how to read? I didn't learn how to speak English until I was 5, let alone read.

I was playing dinosaurs with Chloe, another 4-year-old, and I said, "Hey Chloe, here's a T-Rex for you to play with." She answered, "Silly John, that's a brachiocephalosaurus!" I was speechless. I got schooled by a preschooler.

It was week 7. I had just bombed a physics midterm. I was missing out on Sungod Festival, where all my friends were. I had an interview the next day, and an 11-hour training day for a volunteer program the day after. I was a mess. I was moping around the yard, when Nico, a 3-year-old, asks me, "John, why do you look so sad? We can be sad together cause I miss my mommy too." Cheered me up in a heartbeat. We, as teachers, aim to teach the children, but we never take a step back to learn from them. We may know more than they do, but they know things that we've forgotten.

Then, there're the few who are simply, just kids being kids.
Mateo is lactose-intolerant, and he knows it too. I had no clue, so I gave him milk during lunch, in which he downed 3 cups in a minute. Half an hour later, he pooped his pants. The amount of stool he had (all watery and extremely smelly) could have filled up half a gallon. No lie. When I was changing his diaper, I was gagging and coughing, and there he was, just saying, "Poo-poooooo. Poo-poooooo," over and over again.

Grant is an interesting kid. Every time I tell him to do something, he gives me a dirty look, and mutters God knows what under his breath while walking away. Literally sounds like he's casting a spell on me or something like that.

After two years of working at the Krieger Center, I realized that it's time to move on. Looking back, I'll never forget these kids. I can't stress enough how much I've learned from them. They've taught me to attack the world with no fear. They see a cockroach for the first time. Such a nasty creature. They devise ways among themselves to capture it and put it in their insect farm.

After living in this world for 19 years, I've learned to keep a small circle and not to ask for help, even when I need it. These kids are not afraid to ask for help when they need it. I've learned that I'll stunt my growth as a person if I remain bigoted. I needn't be scared when asking others for help.

Kids will fall, and they will cry. Maybe pout a bit, but they will ALWAYS get back up. I, on the other hand, will fall, get discouraged, and go straight to plan B. Thank you, children of Krieger Center. Because of you, I will not let any scrape or cut, no matter how big, stop me from getting back up.

Love,

John
Penguin Student Teacher

Change

2011-04-23T22:24:00.001-07:00

Spare change, anyone?

President Obama promised change, but do we really want change?

Now here's the real question I have. The reason why I blogged in the first place: how do you change something you've believed in your whole life?

Home in the Making

2011-03-20T15:37:00.001-07:00

Dear home,
The one and only. With the constant aroma of my mother's tofu. The home where my sister paints her stinky toes. The home where my best friends reside, where it's fun to do nothing. To "just chill." The home of my 2001 Acura Integra that has taken nearly everywhere. I miss you all.

In college, nothing's ever certain. You never know what's going to happen next. Of course, it doesn't have to be such a horrible thing. Sometimes, it's great to have change. You meet new people. Experience new places. Explore. Other times, it sucks. You have to live in a different place every 12 months. You take different classes every 3 months. Your major changes every other month. Your career choice changes every month. Your future remains uncertain.

Going home, I've come back to a place where "nothing's ever changed." It's nice to come back to see that your friends are still your friends. It seems that I've taken them for granted. I don't have to keep in touch with these guys. As close as we are, I don't need to talk to them even once while I'm gone, but when I come back, man...I can't even explain it. It's kind of like the movie, Grown Ups (the one with Adam Sandler). These guys are childhood friends. After getting married and settling down, they each have their own problems to take care of. With the death of their childhood basketball coach, they are finally reunited after not seeing each other for ages. Suddenly, all their problems are gone and they're able to just chill.

It took me a while, but after 19 years, I finally know what "home" is. It's not where you stay or what kind of house you live in. It doesn't matter how bad the weather is. What defines home are the people, which I am very blessed to have.

Sincerely,
Average JT

Texting 101

2011-03-07T14:48:00.000-08:00

Text messaging. What a wonderful creation. As soon as the full keyboard was invented, this text messaging thing skyrocketed. Mobile phone companies made so much money off this.

Text messaging has revolutionized communication in our world, replacing AIM and at times, talking on the phone.

What's the point of texting? What's with the craze over sending instant messages over the phone? Why do people even bother doing it? Well, I think I've got it somewhat figured out.

Reason#1: To inform via "The Informative Text."
You are texting with a purpose. You're being instructive. You give them a "What?" and a "Why?" No questions asked.
"aye brah." - Don't be rude. Hit 'em up with a salutation. Don't disrespect.
"get out of the house." - the What?
"cops!" - the Why?

There's no need to text back. This text says it all. But sometimes you get Dopey Dudley here who texts back,
I hope Dopey Dudley learns his lesson, which is to always listen to your boy's "Informative Text." Think with your head, not with the one located in your pants.

Reason#2: To Spit Some Game via "The Flirty Text."
This is by far the more complicated of the two. You're trying to get at some girl, but you're too scared to talk to her in class. Understandable. Hit 'em up with the flirty text.

Rules and Regulation with "The Flirty Text:"

Be yourself. If you're a nice guy, don't put on the "bad guy" persona. 'Cause first of all, that's lame. Secondly, that's not you.
Don't text anything you can't say in front of the girl. No "nice cakes ;)" nor "wherje atre youi imn hellza drunkl."

Confident Conner. Please stop. You're not fooling anyone.

Easy on the emoticons. Save the :) and the =)'s until the girl deserves it. They start to lose meaning if you overuse them.

Plus, you look overtly happy and downright desperate.

Special Scenarios I've Yet to Decipher:

How to respond to these texts

I interpret this as the girl doesn't want to have anything to do with you. Girls, how the hell do you expect guys to reply to this?! Guys, feel free to give me your take on this.

Remember
Text how you want to text. Be yourself. You don't have to listen to a single thing I say. Maybe I've got it figured out. Maybe I don't. What do I know, right? I still haven't "gotten some," but that's a story for another day.

Until Then,
John

(Blog was inspired by late night talks with Daniel, Alex, and Eric and by 10-second lessons from Steve.)

New Perspective

2011-02-26T01:11:00.001-08:00

Hi y'all,

I'm breaking out of the usual "average [insert]" template to talk about something deeper. I started this blog to talk about how much I'm trying not to be average. I realized now, during my second year at UCLA, that it is okay to be who I am. I am John Tran. I am defining myself, and only me. Not all the other John Trans in this world. I am an individual. I am freaking Vietnamese. My mother's from 'Nam. I respect her. I just wrote an 8-page essay about my mother. She's a refugee. I feel so bad for complaining about how hard my classes are, and how stressed out I am about my future. But why? My mother was worried about whether or not she'd ever be free. I should be thankful that I even get this opportunity to be where I am. You may be asking, why am I rambling? I just drank right now. Yes, I admit it. I used to be scared admitting it, caring about what other people think about. I just went out with my friends. When I drink, I think about life, which I am too scared to think about when I'm sober. I am as determined as anyone else.I don't fall under any category or clique. I am hard-working as hell. Believe it. I take pride in my 5'5" stature. I have as much testosterone as a body-builder taking steroids. One day, when my buttons are pushed, I will go ape-shit on you. You don't want to see that. I HATE letting people down. I am eager to please. I don't hang out with only Asian people. After hanging out with ONLY Asian people my first 17 years of life, I realized that I've been living in a bubble. I've met so many people, but yet, I've only met a handle of the people out there. I've met Koreans, Ethiopians, Pakistanis, Italians, whites, Africans, Hmong, ALL types of people. Here at UCLA, I've learned so much from these people. Even though I feel at peace hanging out with my kind, I realized that I can learn so much more breaking out of my shell and talking to all these different types of people. Not everyone has the same perspective as me. I need to understand. Why do I want to be a doctor? I don't know. I'm trying to find out myself. Honestly, I do want to help people. Don't think I'm in this for the money. Don't be surprised if I go to Africa/Honduras/Panama and volunteer and help out those who are actually in NEED of help. But then again, I am quite tipsy. I'll probably think what I just wrote is stupid. I know I don't make sense right now. It's okay. I don't expect anyone to read this. I'm doing this for myself. As John Tran, I will not be average. I will not be amazed, I will be amazing.

Sincerely,
John

Average Pet Peeves

2011-01-01T20:11:00.000-08:00

Hey y'all,

It's been a while, but I suddenly felt this urge to rant about a pet peeve of mine. Everybody has pet peeves. I'm no different. What is a pet peeve? I would define it as something that irritates the heck out of you. Something so annoying that it tickles your pickle in a non-sexual manner. Yes, it's that bad.

I've become somewhat of a ranter as of late so here's Average John's rant. My pet peeve is when people tell me how I should eat,

"John! Chew with your mouth closed. That's so gross!"

AAHHHHHHH! Who are you to tell me how I should chew my food? You don't hear me telling you,

"Hey, stop that! Ew, chew with your mouth open, please! I want to see what kind of food you're chewing. Share the wealth, you selfish jerk!"

Can you say

Just because the majority of people chew with their mouth closed doesn't mean that what I'm doing is "incorrect." So what if people with asthma breathe more heavily than others? So what if people pick their nose in public? So what if my roommate farts all the time?

Every time he-who-must-not-be-named would fart, my other roommate, Bryan, would spray his butt with Febreeze until it's wet.
I used to be on Bryan's side, but I now realize that this classifies as cruel and unusual punishment. Kyle, here's my public apology for chastising you in doing something people aren't used to. I'm sorry. Fart all you want. Be free like a butterfly. Expand that hole as you please. You have my permission.

So here's my public announcement to those who have told me to chew with my mouth closed: I'm going to smack my lips and chew flamboyantly as I please, and I won't give a hoot what you say. So that ends my random ranting about pet peeves.

Happy New Year!

-Average John

Average LeBron-Hater

2010-10-27T20:07:00.000-07:00

Hi all! Long time no see, but I decided that, with the new NBA season underway, it's time to rejuvenate my blog.

Let me take you guys back to the NBA offseason summer, where this dude once said...

"I'm going to take my talents to South Beach, and uh, join the Miami Heat."

This will apply to 1) those who are with me or 2) those who are against me.
You guys are in for a treat, cause you get to hear me vent about how much I HATE this guy named LeBron James. Sorry in advance for those LeBron lovers out there.

I'd like to bring your attention to the first game of the NBA season: the Miami Heat vs. the Boston Celtics.

As a Lakers fan, I HATE the Celtics, but I was rooting for them during their matchup against LeBron. And in the end, the Celtics prevailed. That's just how much I hate LeBron. To root for a team that I hate...that's saying something. Congrats dude, you almost got a double-double. 30 points and 8 turnovers. Props to you.

Celtics: 88; Heat 80

Looks like you took your talents to Miami, but it just wasn't good enough buddy boy. You left Cleveland to win more games, and what a great way to start off the season eh? Losing with your superfriends. Also, without you, your old ballclub beat the Celtics today (the day after you lost to them). Who needs your 30 points, 8 assists, and 7 rebounds per game?

Celtics: 87; Cavaliers 95

Looks like YOU were bringing them down.
Until then, GO KOBE BRYANT. I love you man! Keep kicking ass.

Average Roommates!

2010-06-06T23:53:00.000-07:00

You know there's something wrong when you can't show your own mother your room when she comes to visit her son.
You definitely realize there's something wrong when every time you enter your dorm, your face cringes due to the pungent smell of of the room.

Fortunately, my nasal passages adapt to the smell after being in the room for more than 10 seconds. That is, until I leave and re-enter my room again, and that SAME pungent smell of sex, sweat, and cum re-enters my nose; thus, creating the John-Andy cycle of nasal readaptation.

Everyone always asks me how I deal with my roommate situation. I always answer with, "It's no big deal." Until my last couple of weeks here, I realized that the only reason why I thought that way was because I was introduced to the dorm life this way, thinking everyone went through the same thing I did. But man...was I wrong.

What exactly is the roommate situation and dorm life that I was exposed to?
Well, I live in a building called Dykstra Hall. This is the oldest residence hall at UCLA. The rooms are small, carpeting is old, but the people here are great: social, friendly, and smart. Everything you look for in a significant other, you can find it here. I live in a triple, with THREE bunks beds. Hear that? THREE living spaces, but FOUR people live in room. How is that possible? I mean, that fourth person would have to sleep on the floor, or even worse, share a twin-sized bunk bed with one of my roommates.

Turns out, that fourth roommate is a girl. Her name is Caitlin, and she does sleep on the same bed as my other roommate, Phil. Here she is:

This is what I see every morning when I wake up. yay! Sometimes at night, I have trouble falling asleep, but thank god I have Phil and Caitlin sleeping under me to send gentle vibrations that rock me to sleep.

Here's Andy. He's super chill. Very clean person. Good roomie to have. Before coming to UCLA, I wasn't exposed to many white people, so I found them quite intimidating. Before the school year started, I was terrified because both my roommates were white! Turns out, Andy is harmless. The only difference is that he's 2 feet taller than me. Thanks Andy, if it weren't for you, I never would've gotten over this little fear of mine.

Here's Phil. He's a pretty cool guy, but, like any other person, has a couple of flaws. When you sign up for roommate preferences, there's a section about your cleanliness.

Cleaning Habits: How would you rate your cleanliness?

Very neat

Moderately neat

Moderately Messy

No preference

You see, UCLA forgot to add a FILTHY Messy button, because that's where he would be rated.

Other than the countless sexiles this year, the cum/sweat smell, beer and alcohol spills, messiness, vomit stains, uninvited guests, dust bunnies the size of real bunnies, multicellular organisms/eukaryotes/fungi growing on Phil's desk, bras and shit-stained thongs on the ground, and fruit flies everywhere, my first year with these guys was fun. Thanks room 644!

After living with Phil and Caitlin for so long, Andy and I actually got to know what it would have been like if they weren't there. It was the last week of school, and Phil and Caitlin left early.

So what do you get when Phil and Caitlin move out and only John and Andy are left?

You could actually see our floor!

-Average John.

p.s. Though I may seem bitter, I do love all my roommates.

Average Look

2010-05-06T00:31:00.000-07:00

Everyone comes out of high school knowing what looks "good" and what doesn't, what's in and what's not.
Coming from the Bay Area, I've noticed that the style in Los Angeles (LA) is a little different from back home. Sadly, what I've come to think looks "good" is unfortunately no longer in style in LA.
So the Great debate arises...
So-Cal.....................................................or........................................................... Nor-Cal?

(Photos courtesy of Maki Productions!)

For some reason, polos aren't very fashionable in Los Angeles, so I'm forced to leave my polos at home. I also found out about another fashionable clothing article in Los Angeles: flip-flops. Back in San Jose, I never wore sandals or flip-flops. If I was caught wearing sandals or flip-flops, then I was probably wearing socks too. My white feet were never, and I mean never, in sight. EVER. That is, until I moved to Los Angeles. Suddenly, I had the confidence to share my feet with the rest of the world. Enjoy my smelly feet while you can, all you So-Calians out there.

Average Misconception!

2010-05-05T18:03:00.001-07:00

Funny thing happened to me this year.
My friend, A-Fro, decided to look up the word "metrosexual" on www.urbandictionary.com one day and he immediately thought of me.

Ever since that day, my floormates have acknowledged me as "metro John." It's honestly pretty funny, but I have a feeling that this name is going to stick for as long as I'm in college. Great.
Here's what urbandictionary said:

Going by these rules, I technically don't break any of these.
1. You just can't walk past a Banana Republic store without making a purchase. +.25/1

-I only own one article of clothing from this store. (No, it's not a man-purse; it's a polo).

2. You own 20 pairs of shoes, half a dozen pairs of sunglasses, just as many watches and you carry a man-purse. +.5/1

-I own about 10 pairs of shoes (basically all vans) because my friend, BK, hooked it up with 50% discount when he used to work there. Whoot whoot!

3. You see a stylist instead of a barber, because barbers don't do highlights.

-I've been getting haircuts from my friend, Nielsen, in his bathroom since 10th grade (pretty ghetto if you ask me).

4. You can make her lamb shanks and risotto for dinner and Eggs Benedict for breakfast... all from scratch.
-I can make scrambled eggs. That's about it.

5. You only wear Calvin Klein boxer-briefs.

-I do wear boxer-briefs, but the Hanes brand.

6. You shave more than just your face. You also exfoliate and moisturize. +1/1

-Okay. You got me here. What's 1 of out 6?

7. You would never, ever own a pickup truck. +1/1

-Fine. 2 out of 7 isn't too bad. Got me here again.

8. You can't imagine a day without hair styling products.

-I have gone many, many days without wax. More than I can count.

9. You'd rather drink wine than beer... but you'll find out what estate and vintage first.

-I hate wine.

10. Despite being flattered (even proud) that gay guys hit on you, you still find the thought of actually getting intimate with another man truly repulsive.
-Funny requirement, but this would definitely have to be a no.

2.75 out of 10? I think it's safe to say that I do not fall under the category of being "metrosexual." Tell me what you think. Remember, my reputation is on the line here, so please help me turn this average misconception into a BIG misconception!

Average Friend

2010-04-24T17:34:00.000-07:00

There are 2 types of friends you make: the whatever "friend" and the friend friend.
First off, there's "the whatever friend." Simply stated, these people come and go. Here's a list of a couple you might run into.

1. The Hit-and-Run Friend
You meet this person once. You guys click....but you never see them ever again. Just a one-night stand type of thing.

2. The "Hi, How Are You" Friend.
You make a lot of small talk with this person, but after a while, you guys run out of things to say. The "Hi, How Are You" Friend turns into someone you wave to and smile at when you awkwardly run into each other.

3. The Facebook Friend.
You meet this person and add him/her on facebook. You comment their facebook wall once or twice and never think of them ever again. They're just good for uping your friend count and making you look cool once you hit the 1000-friend mark, unlike our old buddy Tom here...
>

4. The Acquaintance.
This person was in your class. You use him for notes and he uses you for notes. End of story.

Now there's the real friend friend. These people mean something to you because after all, they are your friends right?

1. The Psychiatrist.
You have problems, but luckily, this friend is always there to hear you out and make you feel better.

2. The Floormate.
You see them everyday.You can't help but get to know them on a more personal level.

3. The Freeloader.
I've heard once before that a true friend isn't someone that is afraid of eating your food; they're the reason why you don't have food in the first place. You feel so comfortable with this person that you guys don't care what about what the other person thinks.

4. Stated VERY Simply, The Friend.
They can be completely different from you. They can be exactly the same as you. You could've known them from as long as 10 years to as little as 6 months. None of it matters, because in the end, they'll always be there

Now take a look at your friends. It doesn't matter how many friends you have. What really matters is who your friends are. You don't want the average friend. What you should strive for is the exceptional friend, so get out there and get to know your "Hi, how are you" and facebook friends and become friend friends with them.

I will do the same.
-Wish me luck on my quest on going from average John to popular John.

Average Name

2010-04-23T23:38:00.000-07:00

JT.
Type this on Google. Or even better, walk up to someone and say JT. Just like Google, that person will think of Justin Timberlake. After all, he is Justin Timberlake, the one and only. Adored by many in the 90's. An N'sync icon. 6 Grammys, 2 Emmys.

I am John Tran, one of many. 6 billion people in the world. 196 million Johns. 10 million with the surname Tran. Born in the 90's. No awards. A high school diploma. (One thing in common with the other JT). How else can I say this? I'm like Shia Labeouf in Even Stevens. I'm like a unicorn without a horn. I'm like a Metapod who knows how to harden.

So what? I'm not telling you this so that you could pity me. I'm telling you so that you could know where I'm coming from. So that you could know that I'm not someone great. I'm average. I'm not the six foot NBA point guard that I want to be. Everything may seem a little exaggerated, but the point I'm trying to make is this: instead of moping over your failed attempts, keep trying until you get something going for you.

Take it from someone who knows his stuff. As the great JT once said, "Cry me a River." You could sit at home and mope about how average you are, cry about what you could have done, live your life based on regrets, but in the end, you did not get anything done. Your tears don't mean anything to Justin Timberlake. He's telling you to get out there and keep trying until you make it big.

My name is JT. I am not Justin Timberlake, but I made it to college. And soon enough, I will not be your average John.