I was looking up possible job opportunities online when I got an urgent visit from my mom this morning. She hurriedly told me to get dressed for work at my dad's plant. Of course, I didn't mind at first. "I guess he's moving product today." But something didn't feel right about how rushed my mom was to get moving. I asked her if everything was OK, and she waited to tell me until we got into the car.

Yohan left for Arizona this morning without telling anyone he was going. My parents found out through a friend of his that he was having family problems, so he simply picked up and left. There is a small chance he may never come back, and at least for the time being, I have to be an extra body at the plant. Of course, Yohan leaving throws a wrench into the gears of my dad's fledgling business; nobody else at the place knows every aspect of the job like he does, and he would be the one to inherit the business once my dad retires. So that leaves me to cover for him, but this time it's different. He's asked me to work at least until grad school regardless of whether Yohan returns, and to get a feel for his own duties in case he doesn't. This puts me next in line to take over the company, and I'm scared shitless but not in the way you might expect.

I don't want any part of my dad's work. I'd decided that years ago, watching him come home late all the time. His hair got whiter, the haggard look hardened, and his attention for anything not work-related dwindled. The arguments with my mom about the checks and the accounts receivables and the odd hours of working the phone and such were becoming more frequent and more heated. He wasn't happy. He still isn't, but he's too full of his own pride to admit it. Not to mention that he's reached that age when business ventures like this one is all he knows how to do. Now it looks like I may get dragged into the same route he went, yet another parental decision for me in which I have a grim choice to make - be a good son and respect my parents' wishes, or do what I want to do for myself.

I'm determined to go to school and find a public service job. It's not that I think international business like my dad's is bogus. I have great respect for fishermen, who've made the ocean their home and their way of life. International businesspeople are great communicators. And of course, the plant wouldn't run without the Mexican dudes who do much of the dirty work, work that most people would shy away from. It's just that the work wouldn't be satisfying for me. I don't have any problem shutting my mouth, getting dirty and working hard, and I plan to prove it again to my dad during my time there, as I have every time there. But all the grandiose plans my dad has for me as the new head of the company reeks of his own personal pride, his condescending attitude toward me, and a complete (willful?) ignorance of his own child's interests, dreams and aspirations. He's already guilt-tripped me into going to UCLA and working even for the short time in Yohan's absence, but I fucking refuse to bend on this matter. I've done that way too many times so far in my short life and had to deal with the feelings of regret and self-blame for not growing a pair. I'm not going to "give it a chance" because way too many times with my parents it's gone against my instincts and just makes me vulnerable to manipulation using the you're-our-son card.

I don't understand why it always has to be a decision like this when it comes to my dad. Why do I always have to choose between filial duties and my own goals? I just wish for once that I could please my dad without compromising myself, even though that's near impossible because the man has no respect for my opinions and is pretty much opposed to every idea I hold dear. I can handle the two-hour lectures in which I don't get to say a word. I can handle not being able to connect with him over anything. I can handle his bitterness and scorn for my not living up to his ideal. What I can't handle is his notion that respect is a one-way street thanks solely to the fact that I'm his son. Even in the 80-minute lecture he gave me at the office today, he talked about how turning down this "opportunity" basically means I'm afraid to be a leader, I have no work ethic, I have no drive to make something of myself (i.e. become rich), etc. Of course I felt insulted because he doesn't even know me, but once again I kept my mouth shut. He may always get my best behavior, but after everything that happened today, it'll be a long time before he gets my respect back.

In the meantime, a promise is a promise. Only because it is still my dad asking, I told him I would work until Yohan comes back (hopefully by the end of this week) but not a day more. In case he doesn't return, I told him I would stay until he found a viable replacement. I don't care about inheriting the place, maintaining a second-generation Korean business, or all the money that could potentially come from it. All I want is for this gig to end quickly and for my dad to settle all his problems so I don't have to come in anymore, so he stops looking at me like I'm going to fulfill some grand legacy of his. The money, the company legacy, the first-born's duties - I just want to throw it all out the fucking window. The sooner he accepts all that, the less painful this whole mess will be for both of us.

Beerowitz was crazy. I knew it would be pretty epic beforehand, but I don't think I was totally prepared for it. Maybe it was just not having DJed a party in a while, but I had a blast regardless. It also felt really good to have another gig, especially now that the GRE is an afterthought. Some highlights/notables from the night:

-Arnold stole the show with his homemade Bender (from Futurama) costume. He ended up bouncing early, but I got to talk with him for a bit and even got to spin with his head on for a while. Pictures on the way if I can get a hold of Jenny the camera lady.
-Girls who dance all by themselves in front of the booth are HOT. Not to mention they're the ones that spark the party when everyone is still sober and feeling self-conscious.
-The costumes pretty much made the party. Team USA went the easy route with flag capes and Uncle Sam hats, but others were really well done. Team Israel dressed like shepherds/wise men. Team Canada sent a couple lumberjacks, and Team Tuvalu rocked some hardcore tribal body paint. Spanish flamenco dancers, Italian footballers, Egyptian royalty, Chinese pandas, and many more gathered to play some pong. Amazing.
-I'm officially in need of new needles after last night. Drunk people are not the best ones to have around expensive equipment, and I'll just leave it at that.
-The really flamboyant gay guy at LMU parties may have a doppelganger at UCLA. A tall and skinny black dude with a feathery boa and no shirt was getting ill right in front of my booth, and I could've swore it was him. I didn't really get a chance to confirm because another shirtless Filipino guy wearing booty shorts, heavy makeup, and a ribbon choker was getting even crazier even closer to my booth. It was like they were having a competition to see who could dance crazier and get away with dry-humping more people.
-I got a request for Miley Cyrus. Um...
-A girl was making a request but I couldn't hear her, so she leaned over my decks to tell me. Her boobs lifted my tonearm and cut off the music. Counterweights, indeed. (DJ joke, sorry)
-No more jumping and/or stomping songs (e.g. Jump On It, Cha Cha Slide, Jump Around) until I get some flight cases for my decks, or those Ortofon needles I've been eyeing for a while. The skippage last night was totally unacceptable. I'm just lucky the people there were drunk as hell and couldn't really tell the difference.
-Eric and A-Rodge spent around $700 on alcohol that night. There were four kegs and maybe twenty handles of liquor. There wasn't a drop left by the end of the night. They did make an effort to collect money from guests, but there's no chance they made it all back. Attendance was at around 150 at the peak of the night - no way they could possibly check with all those people.
-The South American rapper/producer duo that I met at the gig last June showed up again last night. After the party was over, we had a little freestyle/cut session. I had no idea what the guy was saying (it was in Spanish), but it sounded pretty sick.
-I got thanked A LOT last night, even more so than usual. People gave me pounds and shakes as they left the floor, on my way to the bathroom, after it was all over and I was chilling out with a beer, even out on the street as I was getting to my car. I got compliments from several guys for not spinning only the club stuff, and from girls who were surprised that a Korean DJ was familiar with Elvis Crespo. Watching people get down is thanks enough for me, but damn... that felt really good.
-I handed out all of the remaining copies of my mixtape.
-I got another invitation to UCLA Radio, and I'm actually considering it now that I have some free time. Also, Manny (who lives at the apartment) turned out to be on the committee for Dance Marathon 2009. He liked my stuff, and invited me to interview/try out for a guest set on the big day. It might even pay, but that kind of experience would be priceless.
-I was asked to do two other parties in the future as a direct result of people hearing me last night. Hopefully, the money will start coming in; I'm in dire need at this point.

In sum, Beerowitz was an epic success. Girls, drinks, music, what more do you want?

Unforgettable - that's what you are. Unforgettable, though near or far. Like a song of love that clings to me, how the thought of you does things to me. Never before has someone been more unforgettable, in every way. And forevermore, that's how you'll stay. That's why, darling, it's incredible that someone so unforgettable thinks that I'm unforgettable too.