I hear the animalese in the background. Delicate sounds like a lullaby. Soft sounds of a netherland. A frantic scrawling of a pen?

A music box?

A computer application?

A phone?

No it’s the sounds of animal crossing.

What is the terrible secret of animal crossing?

I’ve documented the journey of Billy, a young, happy lad who believes he’s going off to have fantastic adventures at summer camp.

This is the true story of Billy.

“I noticed that there was a late fee on my account. Is it possible to waive the fee?” I asked politely and braced myself for the worst.

“Let me take a look here,” she said in her friendly quiet voice. “Looks like you’re a great cardmember…sure I can do that for you.”

I mentioned a few other requests and they were nicely fulfilled. A surprise for the phone call I had been dreading to make all weeklong.

In the last few days, I had read up on the 10 confessions of a chase customer service rep and its followup. I have always found it amazing that such companies have so much power. That I almost find that CSRs often just can’t do anything. Or is it because I haven’t requested it?

To this day, the worst customer service I ever experienced was a phone call to a government agency. Where I was admonished for spelling each letter of my name and address (I thought he didn’t know especially since my last name is obscure as is the street). I was just trying to be helpful. And other sorts of unsavory feelings.

At the end of the call, he mechanically said, “Have a good day, m’aam.”

To which I automatically I replied, “You too!”

It’s the 6th anniversary of my blog (almost) and so a reflection of my blog of 2007. The first entry for the past year.

January:

One last memory of 2006

“So…which boyfriend are you?” a friend asked the guy standing next to me.

Embarrassed, my face was as pink as the rosé champagne I brought to the holiday party earlier in the month, sitting on the counter nearby.

February:

Returning to a place I once loved and hated

When I first arrived to Pittsburgh more than 2 years ago, I was naïve, bright-eyed and bushy tailed. I was leaving a place that offered little to me and embarking a journey to really seek what I wanted to do. And Pittsburgh was a city that was different to me—my first chance at real independence, connecting with people, and interestingly a self-discovery.

March:

It grows bigger!

I’ll probably never finish this burger. Like I never did for this.

April:

Candied Walnuts

I never have candied something today until today. Earlier in the week at a friend’s dinner party, I was intrigued by the candied walnuts his sister made.

May:

Caltrain < BART

When we have to sit closer and make conversation, it’s not for me.

June:

Free Panty Coupon

“I don’t know you now,” I said in embarrassment but with a slight tilt of amusement.

July:

In iPhone glory

Today. I touched 3 iphones and entered my phone number in.

August:

A personalized tea concoction

A few months ago, Chris and I stopped by Teavana (due to my demand) in Valley Fair.

September:

Lesson from TV

Felicity taught me to believe that time is never the test of friendship. It’s often the bond and loyalty that matters than the length.

October:

In Chicago…

I learned:
• Koreans really believed that blood type determines personality

November:

It’s faux reality!

It’s the return of the guilty indulgence. After all, it’s the day after Halloween.

December:

Parking in San Francisco Part II

In any urban city whenever you park outside (which is typical in San Francisco), there’s always a part of you that’s worrying whether your car is ok.

It was late. My first day to work after the holidays and I meandered bleary-eyed to the BART station.

The chunk-chink of the faregates greeted me. I took out a BART farecard with $1.60 because I hadn’t left my apartment early enough to buy the January fast pass.

As I walked toward the stairs, I heard the whish of a train just leaving. Did I miss one? I’ll catch the next one. But when I walked down the stairs, I was greeted by a huge mass of people. All with impatient faces. I heard a gasp and then a grunt of someone behind me.

OH MY GOD, someone said aloud.

I circled around the platform.

20 minute delay. We are experiencing… the loudspeaker said. Almost an attempt to calm the discontent of the crowd.

I instantly thought of my $1.60 BART ticket and cursed myself for not buying the fast pass earlier. I walked upstairs and went to see the station agent to see if I could get the money back. Unlike the people who needed to get to the east bay, I only needed to go 4 stops to get to work. But I didn’t want to forfeit my $1.50.

The station agent waved the crowd away gathering near her door. She was on the phone, attempting to deal with the emergency.

I don’t have time to deal with this now, she said bluntly and then turned away from us. I walked through the exit gate.

And took the 14 to work. All 20 minutes of its misery. Listening to people talk on their cellphones. And sitting on plastic seats.

After work, I went to the station agent at the BART station and explained my situation. He looked at me quizically and took my ticket.

“There’s nothing on it,” he said and handed me a dime. “That’s all that’s left.”

I pushed the dime back and said that I was unable to take the BART this morning. Because of an incident. I repeated myself. INCIDENT. THE TRAIN WAS NOT MOVING SO I HAD TO TAKE THE BUS.

I wasn’t expecting him to acquiesce for the measly $1.50, but I knew that I would start feeling negative if I didn’t resolve it. Right now.

After a minute of raising my voice to a near argument and squawking, he handed me my ticket back. Fixed.

There’s spam. And then there’s the bacon.

Back in the early day of the Internet, I used to subscribe to a weekly mailing newsletter. It contained jokes and other funny material. And when I first got my cellphone, I used to receive a word of the day by txt message.

Now I could never endure that kind of information overload. I would ignore the messages. I receive monthly credit card bill reminders, but I nearly disregard them because I also get weekly yelp newsletters, ticketmaster updates, facebook notifications, friendster notifications, all my airlines updates, other credit card updates, my websites notifications, Cal Athletics newsletters, CMU alumni reminders, Amazon advertisements, Meetup.com reminders, my photo sites advertisements…

All in addition to personal email.

One new year’s resolution is to reduce the amount of bacon I receive.

At least I don’t use a RSS reader where it’s filled with many random feeds that I may or may not read.

As we walked toward the brightly lit pho restaurant, two Asian guys outside said, “It’s closed.”

“Oh ok,” I said.

My sister and I looked toward each other. Pausing and thinking of where we would go. We started to retreat back to the car.

Then one of the guys said, “Oh, it’s not.”

My sister and I stopped, confused.

The other guy chimed in, “We were only joking. You know, just kidding!”

“Oh,” we said and went inside the restaurant. It turned out later they were our servers.

To lose whether by damage, an accidental gift, misplacement, falling out…which of the following are replaceable?

Several years ago, I lost my Canon S30 digital camera. Fortunately I had just copied all my pictures right before. And I remember someone telling me to put the camera into my bag because I might forget it. And I did. At that point, I had despised the camera since I had it for 3 years and it was bulky by the day’s standards.

In some way, I was looking for an excuse to get a new camera, but when I lost it. It was at first painful to lose. It took me about 3 months to replace.

Perhaps it’s to always prepare for the loss. A backup. An acceptance of the price. Creating an everpresent value. Or simply…insurance?

So for these simple superficial items…
1. cell phone
2. the high scores on a game that took forever to reach
3. data on the hard drive
4. digital camera
5. keys
6. sunglasses
7. shoes

In my sister’s room in her quaint townhouse, I sleep. On the floor. On a fancy sleeping bag. Next to my sister’s smelly lotion.

Her room is neater than mine even though she is related to me.

A few days ago, I uttered words that I shouldn’t have been caught saying.

I am tired of living in the city.

And with holidays approaching, I happily retreated to my parents’ abode in the suburbs of San Francisco. As days passed, I stared in blankness at the television, yearning for something to really be good on On Demand.

“Go out,” they said, tired of the sudden appearance of a couch potato.

But to where? I thought. Bed, Bath and Beyond? Costco? Safeway? The starbucks? To waste gas and pollute the earth?

And instead, I sat trying to finish a stack of DVDs and watching romantic comedies that Chris normally would never let me watch (Prime, Just Like Heaven, My Super Ex-Girlfriend, Poseidon, Imagine Me and You)…and the entire second season of Entourage.

And there it was. I missed living in the city where I could go downtown without guilt of environmental pollution and still happily window shopped…to entertain myself. Or I could walk down Mission fingering the cheap plastic cups and the faux jewelery proudly displayed on matching tables. And even then, I could hold Valencia oranges and sometimes even Meyer lemons and think about how organic I wanted to be that day.

But in Lafayette, I was 2 miles away from things. And those things were simply nearly like strip malls. So instead, I played Yoshi Touch N Go, my current DS game of choice.