And onto the next chapter..

I’m at a coffee shop right now with my headphones on and typing on my laptop.  I feel like a total douche.  What do people do here all day?  Who are these people and where do they get the time?  Oh well, I love being a douche.  There are also money chicks here.

It’s the most bittersweet feeling to be having right now.  As some of you know, this will be my last week in Chicago.  I’ll be moving back to the bay area as of Friday and working at Pandora.  On friday, we had one last going away event and about 25 people showed up.  I couldn’t believe how many people decided to come out and it got slightly emotional to say the least.  I’ve been pending this post for awhile since I haven’t had the time to really ground myself and explain how much Chicago has impacted my life in the past 6 years.  I don’t even know where to begin.  This post will be very long so I decided to break it up in milestones of my experiences.

Cultureshock

I remember the months leading up to moving to Chicago.  I had asked myself why I decided to choose DePaul.  The truth was, I had no choice.  Many people around me had a bevy of choices of where to go for school.  I ended up sitting in the midst of B to C-list schools that were all out of state.  The UC’s weren’t kind to me to say the least.  I knew this forged a change for me in my life.  I didn’t get into the out of state schools I wanted to like NYU or BU.  I was easily rejected based on my inability to draw geometric shapes and know the exact speed of light.  Instead, I had to be judged on lesser important things like, art, literature, and extra curriculers.  Either way, out of my list of “red headed step children,” DePaul was the closest I could get to an urban lifestyle.  I accepted before I even visited.  Once again, I had no choice.  I tried to deter myself from ever visiting schools.  Who am I (cum. gpa of 2.8) to tour a school that would never consider me?  I never understood the concept of touring schools.  I think they should do background checks (like approving your credit line for a card) before they let you tour.  I digress.  So I landed in Chicago with my dad to visit.  The city seemed pretty normal.  It was like San Fran, but cleaner, bigger, and wider roads.  I was somewhat intrigued.  First things first, I forced my dad to get chicago dogs with me.  We stopped by Demon Dogs next to my school before we started our tour.  The tour guide asks us “So are you guys considering DePaul?”  I answered, “No, I actually already accepted.  So…blow me away!”  We walked around the campus.  It was nice, small, somewhat modern, and well…White.  Of course, growing up in Fremont, where white people are the minority, and going to a high school where Indians ruled all, I was a bit culture shocked.

Everyone was white.  I walked around the campus subconsciously noticing non-white signals such as a poster for the annual “Asian Culture Exchange Open Mic.”  These small signals comforted me in the most bizarre way possible.  It wasn’t until then I realized how sheltered I was.  The next day was our orientation.  My dad had dropped me off in the morning to a slew of kids that looked like they were kids from summer camp on Disney Channel shows.  White, midwestern, scrubby hair, abercrombie, rugby shirts, etc.  The first girl I met was this gal from Wisconsin who still used AOL email addresses.  We actually ended up getting along very well and kept a solid back and forth email convo for the next 2 months before starting at DePaul.  I learned a lot from her.  I learned that Wisconsin is on top of Illinois.  Pretty cool huh?  The orientation lasted a day with an overnight stay and I was ready to bounce.  I wanted to get back to Cali as fast as possible. I got home and let out a sigh of relief that I was back in my comfortable setting not realizing that I’d spend the next 6 years of my life in Chicago.

One thing I realized into my first year of College is that people don’t lie when they say the nicest people are from the Midwest.  I have never met so many nice people.  Albeit some were ignorant, but they were always willing to learn.  Moving into my dorm, I befriended someone from Minnesota, Wisconsin, Indiana, Ohio, and Iowa.  Each person brought something new to the table.  I haven’t met anyone, however, that was from California.  Trust me; I looked.  It was a pain.  I couldn’t really relate with anyone.  I realized until I got to DePaul that this school was a gem in the Midwest, but unheard of outside the boundaries of Ohio and Iowa.  This sunk in.  I knew that moving forward, I had to adapt completely to this lifestyle.  I couldn’t be a transplant because there wasn’t a group I could find that even remotely remind me of home.  This was it, I had to become a Chicaaaaagoan. Owned.

Miami Dolphins Cheerleader

By my sophomore year, Diana and I had broken up.  The distance between Chicago and LA was unbearable to continue.  It was inevitable at the time.  We both knew it, but I didn’t want to admit to it.  The breakup was hard.  She was definetely quite the gem.  The way we met was great; last summer outing with my best friends in LA and there she was, this beautiful vietnamese girl (owned) with southern california style and an amazing tan.  I was struck immediately and had to have her.  Things worked out well but in result, it was a fling that went way past its expiration date.  We broke up in December and it hit hard.  I knew I had to get out of the slump because the cold ass fucking winter didn’t help.  That night, my roommates brought Red Stripe to my dorm and I ended up getting plastered.  It was well deserved.  I had realized I might have wasted a lot of valuable time in Chicago since I was always on the phone with my girlfriend.  This was the time to really open up and start enjoying the city.

When February rolled around, I was re-energized.  I had snagged an internship at MTV and started living it up by using the fake ID of Mr. Joe Laxamana, a 28 year old Filipino man living in Des Plaines, Illinois.  Shockingly, it worked.  I was close with my buddy Mike, who had a girlfriend that used to dance a lot.  Her best friend, low and behold, was currently a Miami Dolphina cheerleader.  This sparked my interest immediately.  Whenever she was in town, we would hang out and she was by far, the ultimate cheerleader.  The DSP Formal was coming up and I decided to ask her to join me.  She accepted.  I was ecstatic.  How many people can say they brought a Dolphins cheerleader to a formal?  We had a blast.  We went BIG that night.  That was when I began coining the phrase “Go Big or Go Home,” (Gucciman of course brought it back for me recently).

We met up with the Soxs General Managers son and hit up one of the hottest clubs in Chicago, Le Passage.  It was my first time walking through the kitchen to our table.  I remember feeling like a rockstar.  I know, i’m a total feag.  We hung out with Sox players of whom I have no clue who they were.  Anyways, we killed it on the dance floor and got wasted until they finally had to close down.  I was totally cuppin her ass the whole time we were dancing.  Money in the bank.  I had Lovelyn and Alfredo with me too and we always bring up this story.  It was one of the most surreal nights of my life.

We never talked much as I think she’s working at hooters or something at this point, but I will never forget how money it was.

Hype

Hype was a concept me and a friend felt we should start in Chicago.  We came up with this idea when we noticed everyone in SoCal was obsessed with syncronized dancing.  Think America’s Best Dance Crew.  So by my sophomore year, I was tasked in my frat to put together a huge event.  My minimal knowledge of dancing and the philino culture didn’t help, but as a marketer, I indulged myself into the “dance community.”  It was a pretty incredible part of my life.  The first Hype we put together, we ended up filling up the whole student center.  We had about 400 in attendence and 5-6 dance groups.  I remember that day, I was exhausted.  I hadn’t eaten all day and I was trying to rile up a shitload of dancers.  It was like a zoo; these people could give 2 shits about anything.  Once the event ended, we got huge press and raised almost a grand for the darfur coalition.

The next year, we threw Hype 2 in our schools Athletic Center, and over a thousand people showed up.  It was incredible.  By far, one of the coolest things that has happened to me in my life.  We had Crazy Legs show up and RedBull sponsored it.  At that time, I worked for MTV, so MTVU came along and did a short interview with me.  I had a great time putting this together and consider it as one of my greatest accomplishments (so far).  Overall, I don’t think I could’ve done enough for the Filipino community, LOL I kid I kid.  We’re at our 5th year now and I’ve passed it along to minions to take it over.  I hope it continues (as long as asians/blacks keep dancing).

Mexicans

Coming from California, who would’ve thought I’d befriend Mexicans in Chicago.  My first 3 best friends here were Mexican.  That was poor grammer, they are still mexican and still my best friends.  Sorry.  Anyway, my first roommate was Adam; this cracka ass white kid from some wonky ass town in Illinois.  He was nice as fuck but also lame and boring.  2 months into our stay, he ended up deciding to move in with our gay suite mate.  Weird.  Everytime I walked into my room, he would be huddled on the floor with Dan (gay suitemate) and wrestling.  It was fucking weird shit.  But whatever.  I also walked in on him with a girl on my bed.  The girl was disgusting too.  So things were’nt going to work out.  That’s where Esteban (or Steve) came into this picture.  This guy was a total thug.  He wore doorags, baggy clothes, and was woken up with a stereo alarm play Tupac’s Makiavelli every fucking morning.  However, beyond all his thug-ness, he was one of the sweetest and funniest guys ever.  Steve’s one line would always be “Shuttup, Cal!” and “Cal, I don’t buy it.”  “I don’t buy it,” was easily my favorite.  The guy never believed anything that came out of my mouth.  Hence, I would think to this day that he was right because I’m still full of shit.

Steve and I hit up my first real party in college.  He forced me out while I was on the phone with my gf, and told be me to “grow a set.”  Funny thing was that he also had a gf but tended to enjoy cheating on her with fat chicks in my hall.  We went to this party where I got sloshed and basically got to make out with a tall curly haired white chick.  Her favorite show was Trading Spaces and said she had a crush  on Verne Yip.  Just a few perks for being Asian; you can attract girls that happen to be into gay Asian interior designers.  FUUUCK.  Anyways, I turn around, Steve’s rap battling with some gringo and they are getting into it.  Next thing you know, a fight breaks out, and I quickly jump to pull him out of it.  The cops come, and since we were both freshmen, we ended up having to climb over a wall and jump off of it to escape.  I nearly sprained my ankle.  We ran, well I ran, Steve huffed and puffed to the nearest gas station to hide.  We then got 2 personal sized microwave garlic bread pizzas and called it a night.  One of the best/funniest nights ever.  Steve’s now in Afghanistan fighting for us.  Bless him.  That guy was all about the military (I’d be woken up in the middle of the night cause he would play Halo and yell at the TV thinking he was IN the game.)  One night I will always remember was when I was woken up by his laughter at 3AM cause he was reading “100 things to do at Walmart to piss off the workers.”  I wanted to kill him.  OH yeah, and like true mexican fashion, he’s also married and has a kid now.

Cesar, who I don’t talk to much anymore was a great friend; except he always did drugs and had to drink and smoke weed in order to fall asleep.  Obviously our lifestyles were very different, but he was hilarious.  There was a time where we hung out almost everyday and he introduced me to taking aderol for the first time.  Good times.  I ended up not being able to sleep for like 2 days so we just walked around the city for a full day doing nothing.

Alfredo, currently one of my closest friends, is one of the greatest guys I have met; ever.  He’s a stand up guy and I’ve mentioned him alot in my entries.  The first time we met was when we joined DSP.  He was tall and lanky and had a great sense of humor.  Him and I would dick around during meetings.  Alfredo used to be a party animal.  He would basically force me to use my fake ID on Thursday nights.  He also taught me how to Salsa dance.  We practiced in the kitchen like two gaylords.  It was awesome.  Alfredo also always listened to my bullshit when I was pursuing Maddison.  Everyday I got an email from her, I would ask him to help me dissect him.  Poor Alfredo.  This man will be at my wedding; that is how high I rank him in my life.

It was because of these Mexicans that I became “Chino” in Chicago.  One time, in Lisle, Illinois at a Marriot, some mexican kid walked by and said “Papa, that’s a Chinito!”  At that point Alfredo almost fell over laughing.  I asked him what a fucking Chinito was and he told me it was a Chinese person.  Ever since then, I’ve been known as the Chinito.  Whenever I go to his family parties, they call me Chino and make fun of me.  Whenever I went to our local Taqueria “Taco and Burrito Palace,” the workers would fuck with me and only ask me questions about my ordere in spanish while calling me Chino.  Owned.

Maddison

Maddison was my first real girlfriend in Chicago.  She was also might first real white girlfriend.  I learned a lot from her and her family.  I learned a lot of white things that I didn’t know before.  I really enjoyed this relationship.  Unforuntately, it had to end, but I pursued her for awhile.  It was one of my greatest challenges and quite the accomplishment.  We had some really good times together.  She really loved me.  I also really loved her.  However, after awhile, there’s only so much you can take from a republican.  There’s not much to say about her besides the fact that…she stopped my vietnamese streak.  Thank god. (sorry darla)

Dickin Around

Dickin around in Chicago has been great.  Where do I begin….  In Chicago, the lack of Asians make you quite the novelty.  I will miss this because when I move to SF, I will be owned.  Either way, the first girl I landed was Diabeties girl.  Long story short;  I hooked up with her one night thanks to my friend and went back to her place.  While making out, I felt some kind of fucking machine in her back.  Thinking it was a microphone thing, I asked her if I was on a reality show.  She then went into some detail about it being for her diabetes, I don’t know, I wasn’t listening.  To get her to shut up, I said something like “You’re a bigger woman for this,” or some bullshit.  It ended up working cause I planted her.  Then I woke up at 4am realizing I just planted a diabetic, and got out of there.  I stepped on her curling iron while running and got lost in her building.  What a night.

Then there was this girl I met at Soundbar.  I pulled off the whole “dance with your friend that’s a girl (brynn) while eye fucking another, then when she eye fucks you, you make the switch thus making her feel that you dropped another girl for her”  Money.  It totally worked.  We started dancing and making out.  I got her liquored up, we ended up going to McD’s and I saw her face in the light.  It was not as good as I expected, but fuck it.  She was 23, I was 19, I lied that I was 25, and went back to her place.  Done deal.  Good times.

I’ll just bring up one more that was my 3rd favorite.  This was my first non-white.  Unfortunately, a Filipino.  She was Love’s cousin.  As soon as we met up, Love told me she had a thing for me.  I ignored her the WHOLE night.  Didn’t even give her a chance.  Then once she got a bit more drunk, I went up to her, challenged her to 2 tequila shotsin a row.  Of course, when girls get drunk they get really fucking competitive (money) so she downed it.  Then I got an AMF to sip on all night (how Davis of me..) and ended up landing her.  It has been awhile since I got with an Asian and it felt nice cause she was more petit.

God, I feel dirty, but whatever.  These are only 3 of my top favorites.  Trust me, the majority of the time, I FAIL.  However, there was this one time (my finest moment) in SD that I planted in a girl in literally 10 minutes.  I think it was pre-defined at that point thanks to my girlfriend telling her about me in the beginning.  She was Fug but it was def $ in the bank.

Shady Entreprenuers

As a big BS-er, I’ve built a thicker skin in Chicago due to shady businessmen.  I’ve been fucked over atleast 3 times.  Good times.  First was some greek guy.  He wanted me to help him start a design conference in partnership with top interior designers.  This was a great opportunity for me at the time cause I was only a freshmen.  He didn’t pay me but he bought me lunch or dinner everytime we met.  He was a nice guy at the time.  When the world’s biggest interior design expo, NeoCon, came to Chicago he told me he wanted to bring me there.  I showed up that day at Navy Pier and met up with him.  Tickets are usually like 2 grand each.  I was like, damn, this is going to be great.  He ended up sneaking me in.  This should’ve been the first sign of his shadiness.  The next 3 months, I had helped him design business cards and do some cold calling.  It was a good experience until he all of a sudden disappeared.  I have no clue where he is now, maybe somewhere in Greece.  A few years later I saw a logo I designed for him on a site and I believe he’s now working at some interior design firm.  I contacted him but he never got back to me.  I got fucked.

The next shadefest guy was mr. denim.  This guy was a jew (should’ve known better) and approached me because he was starting his own denim line called BYA (billions of years ago).  I got stoked being young and naive.  I designed half of his shit, including tags, logos, overal pocket design, etc.  I built a site for him too.  He ended up not dropping a dime for me.  When it got to the point where he asked me to sign a non disclosure agreement, I had declined because I didn’t feel comfortable signing my name on anything.  We then got into a falling out situation when one of my emails saying that “I’m looking forward to work on this more since It’s getting more serious than I thought” rubbed him the wrong way.  He got mad and we never talked again.  Thank god that denim company went nowhere.  What an idiot.  Fuck, I was the idiot to helping him out.

Lesson learned; bullshitters come dime a dozen.  Be careful of people who talk a lot.  One of my favorite quotes from the movie, Hustle & Flow:

There are two types of people: those that talk the talk and those that walk the walk. People who walk the walk sometimes talk the talk but most times they don’t talk at all, ’cause they walkin’. Now, people who talk the talk, when it comes time for them to walk the walk, you know what they do? They talk people like me into walkin’ for them.

Don’t Stop, Believin’

One thing I will never miss is how many times I have heard this song.  I hope that moving out of Chicago will end this horrible tradition where every bar plays this song at the end of the night.  This song and anything Bon Jovi should die a slow death and never be brought up again.

Finally, I’d like to end my post with a list of go-to restaurants that have captured my heart and soul here in Chicago:

Cafe BaBa Reeba (or Cafe Eberico)

Tango Sur

Lou Malnatis (best deep dish…ever..get the Lou with sausage)

Noodles in the Pot (Money Thai)

Billy Goats Tavern (Money Burgers)

Allende (Mexican, best Salsa EVER)

Taco and Burrito Palace (Best Tacos…and Burritos..who would’ve thought)

Branko’s (Money burgers, brats, dogs, gyros – they pack the meat in)

Athenian Room (Get their greek fries…sooo money)

House of Sushi and Noodles (Money all you can eat sushi for 15 bones)

Noodles & Company (franchise but haven’t seen it in Cali yet, great great fast food noodles from all over the world)

Jimmy Johns (Money sandwiches)

Potbelly’s (Even more money toasted sandwiches)

Mr. Beef (Best italian beef sandwiches, a chicago staple)

Wiener Circle (Money fries and classic chicago char dog, you will get yelled at by the workers as well if you don’t tip)

Coco Pazzo (MOOOONEY Italian cuisine, great outdoor seating)

Ian’s Pizza (Amazing pizza selections that are out of this world ie. mac and cheese, taco, etc)

Las Tablas (Columbian Steakhouse, A-Mazing and affordable.  I took busdriver to this one)

Publican (Beers from all over the world and money peasant food)

Avec, Blackbird (Chicago owned fine dining)

TABLE 52 (AMAZING.  Oprah’s personal chef Art Smith’s restaurant)

Bin 36 (Must go for wine and cheese flight)

MOTO (Expensive but weird food, menu is eadible)

Gene & Georgetties (Best steak, hands down)

Okay, that’s enough for now.