Prologue

Before I start to share my experiences and thoughts from my lifetime, I thought I best begin with an introduction of some type. As the section title implies, this is an online autobiography. I am sure some of you are wondering by now, what is so interesting about my life that other people would want to read about it? That is a very fair question, but it has a rather oblique answer. To put it simply, most people are fascinated with other people's lives. It is this sense of "voyerism" to which I am enticing you, the reader, to delve into my past experiences, and perhaps even use this as a guide for your future actions. Human beings learn from making mistakes, and chances are most people rather learn from the mistakes of others than to make those mistakes themselves. This infringes slightly on the "not-in-my-backyard" mentality which I shall address at a later date, since it has no relevance whatsoever to this piece of literature.

First there was darkness.

And then a spark. . . of life. . . of thought. . . of being. . .

Born in the military hospital in Fung Shan, and raised on the tiny island nation of Taiwan (affectionately known as the Republic of China, and don't you dare mistake it with the People's Republic of China. . . those are fighting words. . .) I have been imbued with a relatively good upbringing, taught the basic values of good vs evil, honor vs dishonor, and loyalty vs cowardice. I'll be the first to admit that the fact of both my grandfathers were high ranking officers in the Taiwanese armed forces (active during the World War II and the subsequent Chinese Civil War) had something to reinforce those ideals. Armed with these standards, I was set loose upon the world, and fared pretty well.

One little detail that should be mentioned now, was a certain little purchase my father made on the day I was born. It was a certain little electronics device made by a company many confused with a fruit back then. The little name tag on it proudly displayed the words "Apple II", and if anything had a profound impact on my life, it would have been that little machine. Needless to say mother was not at all pleased with his impulsive purchase, but the deed was done. Life goes on.

And life went on it did. I proceeded to attend school at an exceptionally early age, even by the high standards prevalent in Asian countries. My early progress showed great potential (started programming in BASIC when I was three), or so I was told several times by my teachers. This I did not heed, and proceeded to become a major pain in the ass for them during the time I was in their care. The numerous parent-teacher meetings regarding my misbehavior should be proof enough. Ironically, it was because of my lack-luster behavior that I was demoted to second-place of my class, instead of taking the top title. My excuse? None. Although I'm sure me dancing in the rain a few months after the Chernobyl nuclear meltdown has something to do with it (teacher said something to the effect of radiation poisoning my law-abiding sensibilities). Unfortunately, I never did regain my academic greatness, as I succumbed to a serious case of laziness, one which is in a continuous state of relapse.

Academics aside, I was not a easy child to take care of. I'm about as rambunctious as they come, and then some. Every time there is a meeting of relatives, tales of my misadventures are regaled all around, and somehow I would have to graciously bow out of the room. For instance, one time my grandmother (may she rest in eternal peace) was visiting, and fought my mom for the privilege to take me to school. I did not understand the importance of this at the time, as it simply did not register in my mind that grandmother might not know the surrounding area. So I blissfully walked/jogged/jumped/hopped my way into class, leaving my poor grandmother panting behind me all the way. The obvious result of this was she became lost in the city, and worse yet, she thought she had lost me in the city. Somehow she made her way back to my home, tearily explained how she lost sight of me in the streets to my mother. A quick phone call to the school cleared everything up, and I went home to play the home edition of Smackdown! Needless to say I did not win in these matches. Another time was when we went to visit my aunt in Taipei, and mother decided to take me for a walk. She became engrossed at a strip mall, and told me to stay put while she went inside to check things out. Once again I blissfully ignored these orders, and began wondering around. In the big city. Full of bad people. By my lonesome five year old self. After trekking through several blocks of the city, I got bored and decided to work my way back to my aunt's office to see what she was doing. Now understand I've only been to her office once, previously on the same day. I was not exactly paying attention when going to and coming from her office, so I decided to wing it and see where it took me. Wing it I did, and about an hour later I walked pass an extremely surprised security guard at the front door, called for an elevator, and walked in on my aunt who was bewildered at my presence. Sure enough, five minutes later mother was calling her asking if she had seen me. Consequently, I got to play Smackdown! Home Edition again. Ahh. . . those were the days. . .

While many other children were preoccupied with the idea of cooties and other gender specific bad things during that age, I never did develope them. To me, girls/women were always mystical, yet beautiful and enticing. They had this mysteriousness about them that I could never quite understand, and I'm admitting to the fact that no matter how hard I try, I probably never will understand them. But that does not mean I don't want to be around them. Its quite the opposite, actually. There were a couple of instances in which I became involved (in a completely innocent kind of way) with several girls, but all of them were stomped out by my parents in their ever watchful guard mode.

Yet it never dawned on me why so much attention and care was expended on my behalf. Apparently, I am the first son of the second son of a traditional Asian family. However, as luck would have it the elder son (my father's older brother, and the only other son in the family) did not have a son until years after my birth. While that might have solved the problem of designating the proper "heir" in most cases, ours proved to be the exception: my cousin experienced difficulties during his birth, and suffered irreversible brain damage. Rather than dooming the family line to an abrupt end, the decision was made to make me the designated heir. I did not know this at the time, nor would I have cared. Even now, I would rather not have the honor of such a position, because it demands a responsibility I am not sure I can properly carry out. But, one does not shirk from one's duties. So carry it I must, even if I complain incessently about it. In case anybody cares, the cousin I "usurped" the coveted position from is doing well. My uncle's health (mental and physical) deterriorated significantly after his birth, mainly because of having to accept the fact that my cousin cannot lead a normal life. Both he and his wife embarked on a long and tortuous emotional journey (and a circuitous one at that) to come to grips with dealing with their son, but I think they've finally found some kind of peace at last. My cousin even made a trip across the Pacific Ocean to visit us back in the summer of 2000.

As the title suggests, the years spanning my teenage years were spent in the rather inhospitable area known as "The Valley" at the southernmost point of Texas. Personally, I'd term it "The Valley of DOOM", but that's just me. Needless to say the time I spent there were rather ignomious. . . being a part of the small fraction of the population which were not hispanic (I daresay that area sported 99.999% hispanic population; Mexico didn't need to invade, they had already annexed, colonized, and built up that entire region) did not help me any.

The family's arrival in that hellish place was rather anticlimatic, and the subsequent months found me adjusting to the new environment, learning a new language (English, not Spanish), and just generally exploring this new world with my childish eyes. That went only so far. My innoncent ideals of honor, loyalty, and the ubiquitousness of "fairness" were proven wrong time and again. Backstabbings, conspiracies, and favoritism were a constant affair during my time there, and more often than not, I'm the target of those activities or biased against when decisions were made. It was not until years after my arrival did I actually maintain relationships that could be termed "friendships" loosely, but even then such alliances proved to be untrustworthy in times of need. Any attempts of me to defend myself, or better yet, venture into a counterattack, met with dismal failures or vicious reprisals, or both. It was a true demonstration of quantity overwhelming quality, and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it. Did I mention all this occured in a private/Cathloic school, where God's word was suppose to prevent this kind of thing?

But there was hope. Eventually I met a near-kindred soul. She was also ostracized by the many just because she was part of the (very very) few. We got along fairly well, and I admit I developed some sort of a crush on her. But that's youth for you. Time and age has tempered that into a somewhat stable friendship, and we still keep in touch (you know who you are. :) ). We'll call her Ann for now, because she's a recurring character in this story. Our meeting was not exactly a smooth one. Word got around to my classmates that I did indeed have a crush, and sure enough, junior high students began gossiping left and right, hanging me out to dry. Ironically, when she was finally informed of this damning piece of information, she said, and I quote, "Oh really? That's sweet." Upon learning her reaction, I summoned every ounce of nerve I had (was even tempted to borrow some from elsewhere), and formally introduced myself. For a short period of time I found some solistice in spending time with her. We did not do anything outside of school really, but at least she does not backstab like some others I know of.

During my period of damnation I was introduced to a certain organization known as the Boy Scouts of America. Within that organization I was relieved to find that the simple values that I held dear, which was threatened with annihilation every day of my existence up to that point, were still revered by the Scoutmaster. I cannot say the same for the rest of the scouts in my troop, unfortunately, although there were a few that came close to meeting my stamp of approval, and only one of them that did. Sadly, I lost contact with that single scout, but I'm sure he's somewhere in Utah now, doing fairly well. During this time, the Scoutmaster became the father figure for my life, mainly because my real father was enslaved by his own company (more about that later). He exhibited the values we were suppose to learn as scouts, and he did it with a flair in both his professional and personal life. He was definitely a role model material, and everyday I still remind myself of his examples in life. Likewise, I have lost contact with him over the years, and I am currently planning an expedition back to Hell to regain that contact. He's a good man, and I hope I still have time to thank him.

Overall, I was pretty much on my own. I spent the days traversing through the city on my trusty bicycle, or stayed indoors and let my imagination run wild (its amazing what one can create with a large Legos set). Sometimes father might even have a spare weekend, and we spent that time carousing through gunshows, or target practice with his prized M-14 semi-automatic assault rifle (7.62mm rounds). At night I either wasted time doing homework or engrossed myself in a good book until two or three in the morning. I even began dabbling in Role Playing Games, especially in the Rifts and Mechwarrior universe.

I had become completely entrapped in the science fiction genre by then, and was further encouraged to do so by my math tutors. They were not remedial tutors, but instead they taught me advanced mathematics. For example, I was doing high-school level geometry and algebra while puttering through pre-algebra in junior high. I guess they saw something in me that I didn't, and pushed my mental capabilities to the limits. In the process I befriended the husband and wife team (they're both college teachers in UT Pan Am), and luckily we still maintain contact to this day.

My parents were very engrossed in my father's career throughout all of this. He gave up so much of his time, his life, and his family, only to be shafted in the end by the very company he gave up everthing for. We came to the states originally because the company needed to start a manufacturing plant here. The plot of land was already bought, but workers, machines, and most importantly business contacts were severely lacking. So during the six years of our stay, father literally built the whole thing from the ground up with his own sweat and blood. What once was a paltry office with only five 10-ton plastic injection molders turned into a bustling industrial plant with three 50-ton molders, seven 10-ton molders, a Quality Assurance inspection checkpoint, and three crews of workers working around the clock. Father learned english as he went along, and even though it was not spectacular, it was enough to ensure continued business from other companies. Apparently the whole affair attracted enough attention for the local TV station to visit and do an interview with my father, which in turn prompted a dinner invitation from the city mayor.

Our evacuation to Plano, Texas, was almost biblical in nature (not that I'm religious, in fact I'm on the border of atheism/agnostic). We made several convoys between the two cities, relying on my aunt's family, who resided in Plano at the time, for guidance. The final trip found us in two vehicles, father piloting the U-Haul solo, mother commanding the Ford extended cab Aerostar, and me in charge of my sister, 13 years my junior. Both parents were sullen and depressed, me not caring about anything, and sis being her noisy self. It was an exodus I care not to repeat again.

However, it was an exodus that was long overdue. For the first time in the past decade I was no longer hiding in the shadows, fearing the next attack or ambush. I was regaining the self-confidence that I had once before, and started to make friendships that would stand the test of time. I was making accomplishments and being justly rewarded for my efforts. I was valued and respected as a person by my peers, no longer prematurely judged based on my race. I was comfortable with being me.

My circle of buddies and friends waxed and waned, until it settle into a relatively close-knit group. I had reached a stable point between introvert and extrovert. Those I kept around me came from completely different circles, which included a ROTC marine (who's currently stationed on a amphibious assault ship somewhere), a theatre technician (yes, as in broadway-style theaters), a couple of band people, and a couple of computer techies like myself. Most of them I still keep in touch with, and some of them are in the North Texas Freelancers outfit. A select few are even in RPM Freelancers, for that matter. Hell, I even managed to find myself an evil twin (aka Grumpy, or Bitter). He's not necessarily evil as per se, but we have enough in common that its unnatural. We have gotten into enough arguements about why he is the evil twin and I'm the good twin, or why I couldn't have been the evil twin (who's read an autobiography in which the evil twin was the main character anyway?) Either way, I love him like a brother.

Academically I toiled through my classes, not doing outstanding, but not failing miserably either. The only class I excelled at was Computer Drafting. It became a class in which I could do whatever I wanted with a computer, and my teacher (I still visit him at the school every now and then) recognized that. All the computer generated images in the "Stuff" section of this site should attest to my amatuer abilities. Keep in mind those were done in a matter of days. Usually what would happen is I would finish an assignment within five minutes of recieving it, even though I had two weeks to do it. I'd then turn on my CD player, close my eyes, and let my mind grasp a design. As soon as a shape begins to form, I gently isolate it to see if it is desireable. If it is, I'll start peeling away layers and refine it until it is crystal clear in my mind. At that point I confirm that into memory, and fire up 3D Studios and let my hands do the rest of the work. The entire design process lasts about fifteen to thirty minutes, and the rendering takes up the rest of the day. It was a time when I felt I could do anything I wanted, and the computer would help make me realize those dreams. And because of my technological capabilities, I managed to shirk the bulk of my academic duties during senior year. This resulted in me going to class in the mornings (relatively difficult classes, mind you), and going to work right after lunch. Life was pretty good.

This was when life threw a curve-ball at me, in the form of a human female. The first time I noticed her was when she was sitting outside of my Physics class, and instead of paying attention to the process of electro-magnetism, I was intrigued with her existence. Very intrigued. For now we'll name her Leva Hexi, even though she's not a recurring character (not yet, at least). For the better part of the semester I was mystified by her existence, until a classmate who knew her explained her presence to me. I was astounded, but at the same time I developed a respect for her capabilities: she was taking a upper-division class even though she was suppose to take lower-division classes. It may be a small thing to some, but at that point in time I was the only person I knew of who attempted something like that. The same classmate then introduced us finally, near the end of the semester, and I felt as if I was standing next to a great ball of fire.

In effect I was. . . being with her was akin to playing with fire. It'll feel nice and warm, but you never know when you will get burned. Unfortunately for me, I found that out the hard way. Because in the following year we found ourselves classmates, taking a college level calculus course while we're finishing high school. We got along fairly well, and helped each other out when we could, but mostly enjoyed each other's company before and after class. I finally worked up enough of a nerve to ask her out on a date, and it sort of worked out. There were things I should've done at the time, but too confused to do so, and if given a chance to go through it again, I think I'd still be too confused. But inevitably, high school Prom rolled around, and I was faced with the dilemma most guys find themselves in their senior year: dare I ask her?

Remember the last-minute date that was arranged for me for Prom night? We'll call her Zhu, for various reasons. Well, it turns out that we had such a great time during the dance, we eventually got together and started dating. It was near the end of our senior year, and we both knew that we were headed to different colleges. Nonetheless we were determined to make the relationship last (all ye who say nay to long-distance relationships, keep reading). Graduation rolled around, and she graduated in the top ten (individuals, not percentile), while I puttered along with a Honors mention even though I lagged behind in the top twenty-five ( percentile, not individuals). Odd thing is, of our graduating class of nearly 1500 studnets (biggest graduating class at that time), the majority decided to enroll in the University of Texas at Austin, which is where I wound up. She went to University of Houston instead, where she was awarded full scholarship.

We spent the summer in relative bliss, enjoying each other's company as much as we could, sometimes a little too much, sometimes not enough. Now that I think back on it, we probably weren't taking the whole relationship seriously enough. Both of us admitted it to each other that it was our first time in a relationship, so I took the "wherever it will take us" attitude. Since that attitude worked so far for me in life, I figured why can't it work in a relationship? It did for a little while. But summer ended, and we went to our respective colleges. I began my studies in Computer Science, while she waddled a bit in trying to decide what she wanted to major in. We managed to squeeze in a few visits with each other (either she took the Greyhound to Austin, or I drove to Houston), but the bulk of our time were spent talking to each other, either online or on the phone. This posed a few problems. One, I definitely was not getting as much studying done as I should. Two, neither of us had much free time left to explore our respective surroundings. Three, there was only so much we could talk about, and at the rate we were talking, the reservoir of ideas was rapidly running dry. Four, when we did visit, we spent too much time indoors and not enough time outdoors. While each of these problems may not seem like much, combined together it spelled disaster. Funny how I did not realize this back then, but only now in retrospect. I guess that's how hindsight works. . .

So life went on more or less. We ran into some serious trouble that caused us to separate shortly after college began, but we managed to patch things back together somehow. Winter break came and went, and then Spring Break rolled right on by without as much as a blink, and summer dawned on us again. I returned home to Plano and worked at the same place I did during my senior year in high school. Unfortunately times were a-changing, and I realized that the company was headed in the wrong direction. Because of that, I abandoned ship when summer drew to a close. We still did stuff every now and then, but since she decided to transfer to UT after one year at UH, things were settling down some.

Or so we thought. Ann, the kindred soul back from McAllen, also decided to transfer to UT the same year Zhu did. This brought back a flood of thoughts and memories, causing temporary mental instability within me. So it was great foolishness (determined by hindsight, of course) that I separated from Zhu in an attempt to pursue Ann in a more meaningful manner. This turned out to be quite detrimental to me, as I had built up Ann's image over the years to the point of fantastical with little or no ties to reality. Sometimes imagination is a good thing, sometimes it is not; this is one of those times that it is not. So after a few months, I finally realized the mistake I had made, and began trying to patch things up in earnest with Zhu. Obviously she had her reservations about the whole affair, and I had a long way to go to regain her trust.

And so time flew by some more. . . Zhu decided to major in MIS, warning me all the way not to try and compete with her in the professional world, never mind that I had already years of working experience on her. Ann changed her mind from a Pre-Med to History, saying that she could easily get a Physician's Assistant's license as opposed to slugging her way through all those years in med-school. I had lost contact with Evil Twin for almost a year by this time, and I spent a few months doing damage control since he had suffered some drastic changes in his family that left him in a smoldering state. Me. . . I stuck by my CS program, except I decided to slack off some because I landed myself in a Systems Administrator job at Design Edge, a industrial design firm filled with bright engineers and talented designers that is often visited by various celebrities due to the newly created web-design division (I claim the honor of fixing Billy Gibbons', of ZZ Top, palmtop computer), which in my opinion was one of the best companies I've ever worked for. The owner actually placed the employee's welfare above the bottom line, which is something that is rather unusual in the business world. I am definitely not complaining. I had a great co-worker (the Network Administrator) who taught me many a great things about the whole IT process, and learned them I did, and then began improving on that knowledge on my own. I began focusing more on work than I did on school or Zhu, and the obvious consequences showed. She began complaining that I was not spending enough time with her, and my grades during that time weren't exactly stellar either.

Summer came around, and I decided to skip summer school this time (took summer classes the year before) and work full time at DE. Zhu found a position at TNRCC (Texas Natural Resource Conservation Council) which kept both of us relatively busy. Her parents also decided to move down to Austin to keep an eye on her (and me), so that ruled out taking long road trips or anything of the sort. We tried to keep the relationship going as best we can, and as much as I want to say that we succeeded to an extent, I cannot. I do not want to point any fingers at this point in time (nor do I know where to point them accurately), but something was not working correctly. It could have been that her parents were rather strict about her movements, or that I was working way too much, or that we were moving a bit fast, or that the planets were not aligned in a specific pattern. Either way, while the relationship may have looked stable from a certain perspective, something was eating it away.

Year Three in college began in earnest, but I was too engrossed in my work to properly appreciate the sudden increase in difficulty. So I stumbled and slid a bit academically, with Zhu scolding me all the way. But I cleaned up my act by the end of year three, and I was ready for the final stretch through year four. I continued to work in Austin during the summer, but she decided to take an internship in Colorado (Denver, to be exact). So once again we found ourselves in a long-distance relationship situation, and managed as best we could (lots and lots of long-distance phone calls again). Unfortunately it was also during this time that my position in the company was being affected by the failing economy. With much regret I voluntarily left DE to start work at Imports by Four Hands, a furniture import company with a manufacturing facility in India. Another complication was that I found myself assuming the role of protetctor for the daughter of one of my family's friends. This produced a rather omnious reaction from Zhu, one which I tried to reassure her that it was quite uncalled for. Whether I succeeded or not, I do not know. The only bright spot of that summer was when I took a much needed vacation up in Denver with Zhu while she wrapped up her internship there. We explored the area outside of Denver, even camped out at the Continental Divide.

I take that back. There was another bright spot. By this time I had completed my motorcycle training, and begun taking the newly acquired Suszki SV650 out for rides. I derived great pleasure from riding that steel beast, and it provided decent amounts of relaxation from hours and hours of coding. I had more or less been dragged into the motorcyclists culture, and there was no going back.

With Zhu no longer in the picture, I concentrated on completing the rest of my academic career. This proved to be somewhat difficult with the sudden increase in demand of my responsibilites at Four Hands. That and also I decided to become more active in the UT chapter of the ACM (Association of Computing Machinery) which I had joined in previous years, but had not been overtly active in. For a while there I even worked a second job as an IT consultant, which taxed my resources even more. Try juggling nine hours of classes, twenty to thirty hours a week working as a SysAdmin, and another ten to fifteen hours working as a consultant (sometimes even pulling all-nighters). My sanity almost went out the window.

Soon I realized that I was reaching my physical limits, so I decided to throttle back a bit. As soon as the small start-up which I was consulting for was up and running, I took a step back and devoted that time to school and hanging out with the ACM. Once Four Hands reached a relatively stabled condition, I withdrew from them as well in the form of a Leave of Absence. With the sudden abundance of time, I spent prepping for class or relaxing with friends. It was the calm before the storm.

Zhu meanwhile, had begun to settle down in Denver. She linked up with some of the other interns she used to work with, and began hanging out with them. She also started taking up Tae Kwon Do lessons, something we were going to begin together, but I guess somewhere along the line that idea went out the window. By the end of spring semester, she informed me that she had developed a "crush" on one of her masters. This resulted in a flurry of phone calls and emails between the two of us: me trying to understand what's going on, she becoming even more confused with the bigger picture day by day. Ultimately I decided to go up to Denver and determine the situation for myself. What I had hoped to be a easily solvable problem, it was not. She was happy to see me there, but there was noticeable friction during my stay there. Even though she took some vacation time as well (we went white-water rafting; quite fun, I'd highly recommend it, just without the whole relationship messiness), we weren't exactly blissful during the whole time. As soon as I left, things deterriorated even further.

In a final push to finish my degree in a reasonable amount of time, I decided to take the last few classes (which happened to be the last upper division classes in my sequence of studies). Those who knew me well questioned my sanity (which in and of itself is questionable, I'll admit). Those who didn't know me quite as well declared me to be certifiably insane. Nonetheless I pushed onward, determined to achieve my goals. During the summer I also took up the intensive Navy SEALs physical training program. This proved to be quite useful, as I paced myself between working on school and working out. Zhu made a quick visit half-way through summer, at which point we discussed her confusion further. Somehow I managed to convince myself more than I convinced her that things would work out. Obviously they did not. A few weeks after she went back to Denver, we agreed to be adults and go our separate ways. So basically after a bumpy ride lasting a little over four years, the relationship was over.

Honestly, this left me quite numb throughout. My decision then, which lasts to this day, was that if I don't have to deal with it, I won't be affected by it. So instead I turned all my remaining energy into dealing with school (tried using it during workout, didn't work). This I did, and the final result was me graduating in the summer of 2002, after four full years in college. My friends congratulated me. My ex-coworkers celebrated for me. My parents were ecstatic (I was the first college graduate in the family). But I was still. . . numb. What's the point of victory when you have no one close to share it with? (One could extend that question further into the meaning of life, but that is beyond the scope of this autobiography). Nonetheless, the only task left for me to do was to return to the motherland and give my regards to my deceased grandparents, especially to my grandfather, and report to him that the mission he assigned me was finally accomplished. Unfortunately, this task was going to have to be postponed indefinitely, as the then-current economy proved to be less than favorable.

Post graduation, I found myself without a job, as the executives from Four Hands did not respond to an inquiry regarding the feasibility of me returning from my Leave of Absence. So I decided to drop the matter, turned in my resignation letter, and began searching for a new path. Except while searching for that new path, I managed to get into a motorcycle accident and broke my collarbone. This set me back several weeks in terms of my short-term plans. But this mattered not, as without a job, I was unable to set any type of long-term goals. So I bade my time and recuperated at home, strengthened the friendships I had developed with those in the ACM, and tried making new ones when fall semester started.

It was roughly around this time that I became completely and utterly addicted to a certain arcade game called "Dance Dance Revolution". I became almost obsessive about it, going as far as building home-made pads for me to play at home on the Playstation 2. It got to the point where I was seeing arrows moving in front of my eyelids when I try to sleep at night. This might have continued on further, had not my legs began to buckle whenever I start bouncing on the pads, and blisters began to form on the bottom of my feet. But I have to admit, I still had fun playing the game. . . getting up to five and six footers before I retired.

More Coming Soon. . .