I don't expect anyone to really pay attention to this, but if you all have any suggestions for good DS games, please chime in!

- Phantom Hourglass
- My Japanese Coach
- Cooking Mama
- Iron Chef America (maybe)
- Infinite Space (maybe)
- Elite Beat Agents
- Henry Hatsworth and the Puzzling Adventure
- The World Ends With You
- Professor Layton and the Diabolical Box

I sat inside my mother's SUV in the middle of an empty parking lot of a large Korean grocery store at about midnight. It was a cold night but it was too warm inside of the car, so I kept fluctuating between windows open and heater on while loosing horribly in Solitaire on my iPod. After some time when I thought I found that perfect balance, I got too cold so I closed the windows. Finding that balance between the two was inevitable.

After waiting about an hour, a large white van parks right next to me, and a face in the driver's side stares at me for a second, confirming who I am. The figure steps out as well as I. The man steps out and gives me a long hug while what seemed like faint weeping.

The last time I saw this man, my father, was my high school graduation. June 2007. About two-and-a-half years ago.

That familiar scent of alcohol permeated through his breath. How usual of him. Wasn't surprised. Found it nostalgic, in fact.

We talked for a bit in his van. Talked a little about life. Asked me questions about how I am now. How my studies are. My friends in life. My future plans. Through all this I see that he hasn't changed much. He's still that subtly selfish man who I always grew up with. It's not how he acts that shows it. It's what he says and the ideologies of how to best live your life. His mentality is one of selfishness. Putting the needs and welfare of yourself first. Course, I never expected him to think or say otherwise. He hasn't changed at all save for the extra spots of gray in his hair. He still likes to make himself presentable, even if he's living without much.

After a few more hugs and taking a photo of us on his phone, we parted. For almost three years I haven't seen this man... and it was surreal to see him again. To hear him give a faint weep. I'm not sure how to exactly take that.

So I see this man and I look at myself. I then tell myself that I aim to be the man and hopefully father who I would have liked to have, but never had the privilege of having.

One day... one day.

One day maybe I can find that perfect balance between hot and cold and simply be perfectly comfortable. Be perfectly content.

But that's highly unlikely. For when things seem perfect, you begin to feel a little too hot or too cold. Then fiddle with the windows or the AC again. Rinse. Repeat.

Rinse. Repeat.

"Man is asked to make of himself what he is supposed to become to fulfill his destiny."
-Paul Tillich

So if you missed my euphoric babbling Christmas Eve, I happened to find myself happily in possession of a brand new metallic rose Nintendo DS (how I will ever get anything done, including reading, is beyond me) and a copy of Spirit Tracks.

I had seen the trailer and thought it looked interesting, but considering my chances of getting a DS were slim to none, I wrote it off as "cool but I'll never play it" (also in this category: Oracle of Ages, Oracle of Seasons, and Phantom Hourglass). So, I didn't have strong feelings about it.

So far, however, it has been fantastic. I loved WindWaker, especially the art style, so I very much dig the aesthetics of it. I also think driving the train is cool, and a heck of a lot more fun than the boat in Windwaker, which always felt very passive to me. Most of all, though, I like playing Zelda on a handheld. I like the tag-team style of puzzle-solving in the Tower with Zelda. I liked how in the Forest Dungeon (which I know, is the first and easiest one), I could see the whole map and it was more like a labyrinth than a series of increasingly confusing rooms and hubs. I always walked onto the floor and thought "hmm, ok, here's the problem...oh, I wonder if this will work..." just like in Windwaker, which I loved partly for the story but mostly because the difficulty was just right for me: not too hard, but not too easy.

I also have to say that this is the game that, in my humble Zelda opinion, makes the most of its system. You use the stylus to control the train. You use the microphone to play the flute and blow the wind-blower. That kind of creativity really impresses me, so I hope to see a lot more of it in the future--of the game, and of the franchise. Speaking of which, I know there's another Zelda game in the works for the Wii, but does anyone know if there is another one for the DS besides Phantom Hourglass? I do plan on getting the Oracles when I can, but still, I'd look forward to more.

I've already started looking at more DS games to get, but I have to admit, I'm a little scared of letting my DS library get like my book library: overrun with titles I've yet to finish.

At first I was all like "man Christmas sucks - my friend is stuck here and can't go home, my brother is stuck in the snow, my husband has to work, and my croquembouche was a major pain and also kind of a flop."

But then I was like "well, hanging out with Annette is cool. And Home Alone is a great movie."

But then I was like "OMG MY PARENTS BOUGHT ME A PINK DS AND A CASE AND ZELDA SPIRIT TRACKS OMG!!!"

And then Nick was like "O hei I'm taking you to Austin for your Christmas gift!"

Thank you, baby Jesus, for being born. And also for allowing us to celebrate your birthday by getting awesome gifts from people who love us.

I'm sitting by my gate at Tampa International Airport flight from Tampa to Baltimore (aka Get-Shot-Ville)... and my flight is delayed from 5:10 to 5:45, lol.

I've been reflecting to how this year has been. It started well, then took a total dive towards what may have been emotional hell, and by the grace of God I was able to barely crawl back up by the tip of my fingers. Many of my inner iniquities were faced, and now I stand higher than I originally had been.

In retrospect, I see that I developed a lot throughout this year. I think the one thing I grew the most was discovering what love truly means... and I think it all began with reading The Kite Runner... which to me was a further reflection of the love of God and its application to humans, despite their total brokenness. I've never encountered such a beautiful character like Hassan. Never have I quite fallen in love with a fictional character until then.

So I see myself where I am now, and for the first time in maybe my whole life... I'm happy and content. I'm happy with who I am and how I have developed. I have plenty of room for more growth, but I'm liking the direction I'm heading. I'm happy knowing that regardless of what may happen, I'm going to succeed.

So while 2009 may have been disastrous, it has left much room for 2010. I think 2010 will be challenging, difficult, but through it all: Glorious.

I once asked a friend if she believed that dreams ever came true. She simply replied "Ryan, I graduated college." So I wonder what happens when you succeed in what you not too long ago believed you could never accomplish?

Maybe you become overwhelmed with tears. Stricken with emotion. Humbled knowing that for some reason, you were able to win despite all the odds.

So I will continually dream. Continually hope. But above all that: Continue to love.

And that being said, I love you all. Oh so very much. I am everlastingly appreciative of all of those who has poured into me as well as I have been able to pour into.

I have a philosophy that we as humans are deserving (perhaps entitled is a better word) of nothing. Absolutely nothing. As such, everything we have is a blessing.

And you, my friends, are all blessings to me. I deserve none of you.

Thank you. =)

I only meant to pick up one or two, maybe three tops, I swear! But as soon as I walked in I started remembering titles and well...there you have it.

I'm thinking of making this a regular feature either here on LJ or at Shelf Life - taking a picture of my weekly Saturday run to the library and posting it. Trendy/cool, or yet another sad example of the narcissism of our age?

I saw we had ended up on a rutted dirt road near Isteqlal Middle School. There was a field on one side where lettuce grew in the summer, and a row of sour cherry trees on the other. I found Hassan sitting cross-legged at the foot of one of the trees, eating from a fistful of dried mulberries.

"What are we doing here?" I panted, my stomach foiling with nausea.

He smiled. "Sit with me, Amir agha."

I dropped next to him, lay on a thin patch of snow, wheezing. "You're wasting our time. It was going the other way, didn't you see?"

Hassan popped a mulberry in his mouth. "It's coming," he said. I could hardly breathe and he didn't even sound tired.

"How do you know?" I said.

"I know."

"How can you know?"

He turned to me. A few sweat beads rolled from his bald scalp. "Would I ever lie to you, Amir agha?"

Suddenly I decided to toy with him a little. "I don't know. Would you?"

"I'd sooner eat dirt," he said with a look of indignation.

"Really? You'd do that?"

He threw me a puzzled look. "Do what?"

"Eat dirt if I told you to," I said. I knew I was being cruel, like when I'd taunt him if he didn't know some big word. But there was something fascinating--albeit in a sick way--about teasing Hassan. Kind of like when we used to play insect torture. Except now, he was the ant and I was holding the magnifying glass.

His eyes searched my face for a long time. We sat there, two boys under a sour cherry tree, suddenly looking, really looking, at each other. That's when it happened again: Hassan's face changed. Maybe not changed, not really, but suddenly I had the feeling I was looking at two faces, the one I knew, the one that was my first memory, and another, a second face, this one lurking just beneath the surface. I'd seen it happen before--it always shook me up a little. It just appeared, this other face, for a fraction of a moment, long enough to leave me with the unsettling feeling that maybe I'd seen it someplace before. Then Hassan blinked and it was just him again. Just Hassan.

"If you asked, I would," he finally said, looking right at me. I dropped my eyes. To this day, I find it hard to gaze directly at people like Hassan, people who mean every word they say.

"But I wonder," he added. "Would you ever ask me to do such a thing, Amir agha?" And, just like that, he had thrown at me his own little test. If I was going to toy with him and challenge his loyalty, he'd toy with me, test my integrity.

I wish I hadn't started this conversation. I forced a smile. "Don't be stupid, Hassan. You know I wouldn't."

Hassan returned the smile. Except his didn't look forced. "I know," he said. And that's the thing about people who mean everything they say. They think everyone else does too.

"Here it comes," Hassan said, pointing to the sky. He rose to his feet and walked a few paces to his left. I looked up, saw the kite plummeting toward us. I feard footfalls, shouts, and approaching melee of kite runners. But they were wasting their time. Because Hassan stood with his arms wide open, smiling, waiting for the kite. And may God--if He exists, that is--strike me blind if the kite didn't just drop into his outstretched arms.

-The Kite Runner