My past...part one

I wanted to write you about my past. I want you to know everything
about me, where I came from, the things I have experienced, the
mistakes I have made in my life, my small successes. This is by no
means a complete record, and there will be many blanks left to fill
in, many experiences that I have had that I will skip. If you thought
your last letter was "messy", this one will strive to define that
term. Anyway, here goes nothing…prepare to be bored.

I was born into a hardworking, lower middle class, Irish Catholic
family. The only thing that was Catholic about it was that my parent's
lineage was Irish, and my mother came from a devout Catholic
upbringing. I was baptized, as was my older sister and younger
brother. My sister and I went through Catechism, my brother was
fortunate not to have to endure that aspect of religion.

I was born in Mountain View, California, on September 20th, 1974.  The
first house I remember living in was not far from here, and I lived
there until I was four, when we moved not far from there, into a brand
new house my father worked many hours, days and nights to afford. My
mother stayed home and cooked, cleaned, and raised her children, not
unlike the life she knew already, growing up without her mother and
having too many siblings for her own father to take care of.

I started school when I was four years old.  That may not sound out of
the ordinary, but at the time I was growing up, most of my friends
were always at least a year older than me. This drove me early on to
compete harder than most of my peers, a trait that followed me through
all of my schooling. I was placed in GATE (Gifted And Talented
Education) in the second grade, and most of my peers were three to
four years older than me. I had a drive to excel further than my
parents. My father graduated high school and went to Vietnam, my
mother dropped out of high school to start her family. Even before
leaving grade school, I wanted to attend the US Naval Academy and
become an officer, or more precisely, an "educated version" of my
father, and his father before him. (I have a lineage of enlisted naval
men in my family…more on that later.)

An unfortunate byproduct of being the youngest of my peers while
growing up was a need to impress people. Academically, I was usually
in the top five students through grade school, but I was also sent
home and disciplined more than most. This was a trait that caused my
parents confusion and grief, if not embarrassment, for sure. I had an
active mind, and desired experience over anything else. I learned
early on my limitations, and pressed them, many times to the point of
getting into things over my head.  My actions perplexed my teachers,
and they strived to keep me occupied.  When I entered junior high, I
was called in the first week to sit with the Principal, who had been
warned by my grade school Principal that I was a discipline issue.
When I entered high school, again I was called in to the Principals
office, who was warned by my junior high school Principle that I was a
discipline issue. Looking back, I think it is funny that there was
that much interest, and I still wonder why anyone cared. The only
thing I can think of was that I was in honors classes, and the
administration didn't want to see me squander my education. The fact
that I was an honor student with behavioral issues was probably
strange to my teachers.

Throughout grade school, most of the discipline issues were due to a
violent trait that I exhibited when dealing with other children.  I
was very defensive, and didn't take to bullying like other kids. That
meant that I got into a lot of fights, and being smaller than most
children, I was very temperamental. That temperament extended to my
teachers as well. I was always talking back, and challenged authority.
My father was very much a disciplinarian, and I got punished often for
my actions. Still, I persisted, and that began to strain my home life.
My father was a very physical man, and would beat me with his belt.
When I got older, he would grab me by my throat and pin me to the
wall. I feared him more than any other person. More on that later…

I remember once in the fourth grade, some boys from school came to my
house to fight me. My dad was home, and knew immediately what their
aim was. He sat on the front patio to watch me, and told the other
kids that it was a one-on-one fight only. He instructed me and the
other boy to fight on the lawn, and to fight fair. I was doubly
scared, not only because I had five or six enemies watching, but
because I didn't want to let my father down. In the Navy, the most
common pastime among sailors was boxing. My father was a very good
boxer, and I was hoping to impress him by winning. When the fight
started, I gained the upper hand and knocked my opponent down. When he
was on the ground, I began kicking him in the head, and in the groin.
I didn't even see my Dad come up from behind and throw me to the
ground. He hit me in front of the other children for not fighting
"fair".  I still don't believe in his definition for fighting fair.
Every fight I have ever been in was either "winning or losing", no
matter how that happened, "fair" or not.

When I was in the seventh grade, I began smoking, and even
experimented with drugs and especially alcohol. I spent almost every
weekend sleeping at my friend Ian's house, and we would sneak out at
nights.  Ian enjoyed a good family life, and though his father was
also strict, he cared little about what we did. His mother was an
alcoholic, his father was too lazy to do much about our behavior. Ian
and I would do everything together, and we had been best friends since
the sixth grade. We competed with each other often, and he was usually
the one to come up with crazy ideas. We did everything together.
Drinking, drugs, thievery, etc.  I started becoming the voice of
reason, and was his anchor to staying within the envelope of our
limitations, though even I felt the pressure to do whatever he would
do. Peer pressure to the extreme. By the time I was in my sophomore
year in high school, my limitations were becoming non-existent, and I
would do almost anything that we could come up with. I began doing
more dangerous drugs, things like LSD, cocaine, methamphetamines. We
would finance our experimentation by acting as small time
"pharmaceutical distributors", as well as robbing local grocery stores
of CD's, cigarettes, alcohol, which we would sell to our classmates. I
was living a double life, and while Ian went headlong into that
lifestyle, I still tried (unsuccessfully at times) to maintain good
marks, and relationships with kids who were rooted into the pursuit of
their fruitful futures. My GPA slipped dramatically my sophomore year.
I also ran away after a terrible fight with my Dad, who had pinned me
to the wall by my throat for the last time.  That was the first time I
hit back. My father had a bridge of three teeth, and I hit him as hard
as I could, knocking the bridge out. He dropped me, shocked, and I
ran. I made a mistake of talking to a teacher that I was close to, and
he reported that and other incidents to the authorities. The remainder
of the year I had to sit once a week, with a psychologist whose mind
was more messed up than mine.

To make up for some failing marks due to my youthful transgressions, I
took night classes during high school. (I only failed two semesters
growing up, but I continued taking as many night courses as I could,
as well as summer school my freshman year). By my senior year, I had
one elective left to take, one semester of English, and one semester
of Government/Economics.  I got out of school at 10:30 am, and I
worked part time at a flower shop, folding boxes and delivering
arrangements.

I was very depressed in those years, even suicidal at times. I am not
even sure how serious I was about ending my life, but I had come
dangerously close when I was sixteen. By that time, I had moved into
Ian's house essentially, and I became involved in a musical group (I
will write more on this organization later) that toured cross country
during summers. (During the summer of 1991, I was in Marion, Ohio, and
I took a full bottle of Tylenol and drank a fifth of vodka. I woke up
in an emergency room. More on that later, as well…)

I am not sure why I thought that way back then. I was always
depressed, never happy, and I starved for attention, usually of the
worst kind. Thankfully, that part of my life lasted only through high
school. After I graduated, I quit everything, except cigarettes. I
begged Ian to do the same, and he would not, unfortunately. I will
expand on Ian at a later time, since he was an instrumental character.

Anyway, I mentioned earlier that I wanted to go to the Naval Academy.
I had written many letters seeking endorsement, and I probably could
have made it in, had it not been for some failing marks I had incurred
due to troubles I was having outside of school, as well as the fact
that my eyes would not pass the physical exam. When I was born, I had
very little muscular control over my eyes, necessitating two
surgeries, one at age two, the other at age four. (In retrospect, I
still don't know how my father was able to afford it all.) I wore
glasses during my whole childhood, until the taunting from other kids
was too much for me. I was never that good looking anyway, and wearing
glasses was only one more symbol of the distaste for my physical
attributes. I grew my hair long, always wore sunglasses, and tried
other ways to make myself more attractive…this became the basis for my
over-confidence, arrogance, my nature to try anything no matter how
dangerous.

Part of the attention I sought was of the female kind, and my
sexuality developed at an earlier age than most of my friends. I had
lost my virginity in the eighth grade, and by my freshman year, I
sought to feed my ego by having as many girlfriends as I could. The
girls I dated were attracted to my cockiness, my problematic attitude,
and the fact that I was at least marginally smarter than most other
kids who I hung out with. (I was always the guy people went to; I
would write papers, do other kids' homework, etc.)  In all honesty, I
had at least ten girlfriends by the time I was a senior. I would get
bored very easily, and tried hard not to attach my emotions to any one
person too strongly. I enjoyed female companionship though, and it was
much easier for me to bear my emotional side to girls than to the guys
I used to associate with. That was a trait that I developed for fear
of showing weakness to my father.

Anyway, going into the Navy was a dream I had since I could
remember…my Grandfather was a lifetime Navy man, and had the tattoos
and scars to prove it. He was like "Popeye" to me when I was a young
boy…a tattoo of an anchor on one arm, with the names of his ships, and
a tattoo of the American Eagle holding an American flag on the other,
with the name of my Grandmother. I idolized him, and even my father,
for their service to  this country. They had both served on aircraft
carriers, and I wanted to do them both one better, to be a pilot.  I
discovered before graduating high school that it was an impossible
dream, and I abandoned the idea for something more realistic, like
making money.

I had started my first real serious relationship late in 1991. Her
name was Robin, and she and I stayed together for almost two years.
Her mother hired me at the company she worked for (Ultratech), and I
felt a need to stay with Robin because of that. She was not my type,
(yes, I had a type back then!). Fortunately, Robin broke up with me
after a while, I had transferred to a different area of the company,
and her mother left that place soon after anyway. By this time, I had
my own place, my own cars, and some expendable income. I still aspired
to go into the Officer pool in the USN, and I wanted to go to school,
beyond junior college.

Berkeley. Throughout all of my years growing up, I had this dichotomy
about me. I was smarter than most of my peers, as long as I was
applying myself. There were two students that I grew up with that I
always competed with academically. One was female, named Nayana. She
was exceptional academically, if not defunct socially. The other
student was male (incidentally, Chinese as well,) and was the person
who most accurately represented the "left-side" of my intellect. Robin
was the second closest friend I had growing up (Ian being the first,)
and is the most intelligent person I have ever known, to this day, at
least as far as scholastic aptitude is concerned.  After scoring a
1590 on the SAT, he took the test again to attain a perfect 1600.
Robin graduated as Valedictorian in high school, an honor he shared
with Nayana. After high school, he attended UC Berkeley, then went on
to Yale.

Robin could never grasp my desire to stay on the fringe of social
acceptance and he never really excelled on a social level. He knew my
intellect was far beyond what I showed, and pushed and prodded me to
go to the university, even as far as much as taking me to his classes,
and introducing me to the university NROTC commanders. I used to go to
political science lecture series' on campus, and was told that by
joining the NROTC, I could still go into the Navy as an officer. The
idea appealed to me, and I began studying in earnest for the admission
test to the University.

I never took the test.

The truth is, I DID enroll in the extension courses. I did NOT take
any courses, however.

I am sorry I misrepresented myself to you. No, I am sorry because I
let a misunderstanding develop into a lie. I lied to you. I did indeed
go to classes on campus, though only as an observer, and aspired to be
a student there, even going as far as spending spare time on campus
studying and reading in the stacks.

 I think I wanted you to know that I am more than I appear to be,
that I would want for my own children to reach a standard that I had
not attained.  I also know how serious education at the university
level is to Chinese people. Truth is, I remember telling you that I
had gone to classes, which I had.  When you called me and asked if I
had indeed been a student, I felt ambushed, confused, and responded
quickly without thinking. Do not take that as an excuse for my lying
to you, it is not. I do have transcripts that show that I had passed
admission for the UC Extension program though.  I am really very
sorry, I never meant to propagate that lie.  I feel terrible the way
that happened, and when you asked me, I immediately felt that I was
losing your friendship anyway, so I didn't care what I said after. I
know how sensitive you are to that, and I hope I can rebuild that
trust with you. I hope someday I can talk to you about this, and I
pray that you will forgive me for my dishonesty.

At any rate, the prospect of working two jobs (I began bar tending,
and worked daily overtime for my company in another department) became
more appealing, and I stopped going to school all together.

I began working for Ultratech right out of high school.

(I will continuing writing this, but I just got off the phone with
you, and I want to e-mail you what I have written so far.)