As I am reaching the end of my 30s, my body has switched the maintenance mode. My hair is not growing back; my gut is not getting smaller; my teeth are not getting any whiter until I get complete dentures; and my keloids are not fading away. Everything goes downhill from here.

The good thing is that my wife accepts me for who I am. Not that I have a low self-esteem, but who wants to be with this piece of shit unless they want something else? I am almost forty now and I might be a piece of shit, but I am not a fucking dumbass. I have a strong, independent, and beautiful wife who had chosen me for who the fuck I am. I have three wonderful kids that will always be a part of my life. The chance of me fucking all that up is nonexistence.

Will Schwalbe, Books for Living, (p.14):

We over schedule our days and complain constantly about being too busy; we shop endlessly for stuff we don’t need and then feel oppressed by the clutter that surrounds us; we rarely sleep well or enough; we compare our bodies to the artificial ones we see on television; we watch cooking shows and then eat fast food; we worry ourselves sick and join gyms we don’t visit; we keep up with hundreds of acquaintances but rarely see our best friends; we bombard ourselves with video clips and emails and instant messages; we even interrupt our interruptions.

When it comes time for us to decide what we should buy and how we should spend our free time, we expect ever more choice. And in order to try to make our way through all of the options we’ve created for ourselves, we’ve turned the whole world into an endless catalog of “picks and pans,” in which anything that isn’t deemed to be mind-blowing is regarded as useless. We no longer damn things with faint praise—we damn them with any praise that is less than ecstatic. Loving or loathing are the defaults—five stars or one.

And at the heart of it, for so many, is fear—fear that we are missing out on something. Wherever we are, there’s someone somewhere doing or seeing or eating or listening to something better.

This week I will be attending Computer in Libraries 2017, a three-day conference, and my damn gout flared up. I suspect saké is the culprit. I had been drinking soy milk as well, but I am not sure if it caused the flare up. My diet has been terrible. I ate pretty what I wanted except for beef. I haven’t been walking or jogging for a while. I need to get back to exercise and eating right. I am not good at self-disciplined.

Life is good, but stressful as usual, particularly work, which has an effect on me. The good side is that I no longer have the time to give a fuck about the incompetent president. That puppet motherfucker is going down. The healthcare bill is the first major sign of failure. I still can’t believe that son of a bitch is our president.

I haven’t blog much because I have ran out of shit to say. I want to get back to just writing without thinking or editing. Lately I have come to realize that I am so damn awkward in socializing. I hardly have anything to say to people because I don’t want to get into their space. I also fear of sounding stupid. I have been observing my kids to see how they do it and I think I can learn from them. With Xuân, he just smiles and touches people. He could get away with it because he is so damn adorable. It would be too creepy for for and I might even get in trouble. Đạo is very natural when approach others, especially his peers. He could easily make friends. I don’t have that friendliness in me. Đán is fascinating to watch. He can talk to anyone about the things that he is into. He doesn’t care who he’s talking to or if that person has any interest in what he’s talking about. He would talk about a video game that he played and than that person would be interested in his subject. Imagine if I come up to someone and talk about web typography. They would look at me and be like, “What the fuck are you talking about?” That’s what I think anyway.

What if I don’t give a fuck what people think? Just say whatever the fuck I think just like what I do on this blog? If I just have half of the courage I have for my blog in real life, I would not be so social awkward.

Last Saturday evening, I had the pleasure of attending Jim Van Meer’s exhibition for his MFA in graphic design. In his final project and thesis, he uses graphic design to send a powerful message on gun violence, a serious issue that we are still facing today in America. He writes:

My final project and thesis are an attempt to allow people to see the cold-hard facts of gun violence in America and let them ponder the effects that guns have on this country. Through the use of interpretive graphics, storytelling, and experiential methods, it is my intent to further the dialogue about guns and gun violence through a thoughtful perspective.

Based on the success of the exhibition and the book he has written, Jim will have my full support if he ever decided to run for office. We need more people like Jim to tackle this issue. If you want to read his thesis, download the PDF copy.

Vài tuần trước tôi tình cờ nghe được một đoạn radio nói về bài “Phố Buồn” của Phạm Duy do Vĩnh Lạc Đoàn Thế Ngữ thực hiện qua chương trình “Âm Thanh và Ngôn Từ.” Thế Ngữ phân tích nhạc và lời rất thú vị. Chê hay khen, Thế Ngữ trình bài rất chân thật. Tuy những chương trình này thu âm đã khá lâu nhưng tôi chỉ mới phát hiện. Những bạn nào chưa nghe, những đề tài nói về nhạc Trịnh Công Sơn, Phạm Duy, và Từ Công Phụng nên nghe cho vui. Tất cả các bài có thể nghe hoặc tải xuống ở đây.

After a decade on hiatus, Chappelle returns to the stage with two Netflix’s specials. From OJ to Cosby, race to rape, and genders to generations, Chappelle lands a wide range of provocative punches, and yet the two Ps that stand out are police and pussy. Glad he’s back and can’t wait for more.

Last night, Đạo dropped the H-word. “I hate you,” he said. I schooled him, “This is how you repay for all things that I had done for you. I fed you. I brushed your teeth and gave you a bath every night. I wiped your butt.” Đán added, “He let you play with the iPad and played chess with you.” Đạo broke down, “You’re making me feel bad.” I replied, “But you hurt me.” He apologized, “I am so sorry, daddy. I will remember you forever.” I said, “I forgive you, but you need to think before you say things like that.” Đán asked, “What does forgive mean?”

I had avoided House of Cards for a while now, but gave in after a colleague persuaded me. On Saturday evening, I started watching the first episode after the kids fastened asleep. I ended up watching it until 2:30 in the morning. I can’t escape politic. Since I don’t want to keep up with the real one, my alternative solution is to follow the fake one.

Through the arrangement of simple shapes, Bang brilliantly explains our emotional response to the visual abstraction. The principles she had uncovered and shared are a required read for anyone who wants to get into graphic design. The revised and expanded 25^th anniversary edition makes a special gift for new design students.

When I came to pick Đán up, he proudly showed me his self portrait and said, “Daddy, do you know what I am going to do with the picture? I am going to stare at it because I look so handsome.”