So guys, I’m back in the Bay Area, and here are some updates about my life at the moment.
I work in San Francisco, room in Berkeley, party like it’s 1920s because it was the Prohibition period and I don’t drink.
I live in a beautiful house on top of a hill, overlooking the bay and several of its bridges. My three roommates are all competitive chess players–they became grandmasters in their early teens and naturally all they ever talk about is chess. They refer to me as their “non chess player friend” in the same loving manner the Malfoys do when they talk about the Muggles.
Continue reading “[Day 66] Living that Bae Life”
Disclaimer: I live in Palo Alto and even though I make frequent trips to San Francisco, San Jose, Berkeley, and the surrounding cities, a lot of things I mention below might only apply to Palo Alto.
It’s always fascinating for me to get out of Silicon Valley. I have been there for so long that I have almost forgotten how ridiculous it must be like to people outside the bubble. Even though both London and Silicon Valley are multiracial, they are like two different worlds.
Continue reading “[Day 32] London vs Silicon Valley”
I have two friends who do the same personal project: actively trying to be a better person every day. Let’s call these two friends Marie and Paul. They are both college students living in the Bay Area. They reflect a lot on what they do, how it affects other people and sometimes seek other people’s opinions as well. They have a list of things they want to improve about themselves and practice these every day. I was having dinner with Marie the other day when the waiter asked us if he could take our plates away. We hadn’t finished our meal yet. It was a busy night at the restaurant and we had been sitting there for a while. Continue reading “[Day 18] How to become a better person”
Last weekend, we drove to Half Moon Bay because my idiot of a friend suddenly had that burning desire to see a big body of water. Down at the harbor, we chatted up two fishermen. The captain was a tall, blond, skinny man in his early twenties. He was the youngest captain around so people called him Captain Kid. He was a sweetheart, smiled an I-made-it smile and walked on shore with the same instability he would have on water. Half way into the conversation, we realized he was stoned out of his mind. “Marijuana oil from Oregon guys, the best,” he told us. Continue reading “[Day 4] Why Stanford students are embarrassed of the school they go to”