Monday,
March 31 7:23
PM :
: the thing about reading a
book outside is that it never lasts very long. you plan to be out there
for an hour or two. you bring a towel, a drink, some cigarettes, sunglasses,
a cell phone perhaps. you settle in and remark to yourself how wonderful
the weather is. how jealous all the people you know working must be.
and you start to read. and you start to really enjoy yourself.
but then the wind starts to pickup. the sun starts to dart in and out
between clouds, messing up your reading pattern. a blue kite is flapping
in the breeze, stuck high up in a green tree. delinquent kids start
their daily wanderings about on the streets. footballs and screams fill
the air. a concerned mother lectures her three year olds on the importance
of not going to the pool without her. i can sense her fear from here.
"don't you ever ever go in there without me. don't follow any
of the other kids, don't go in even if the gate is unlocked." she glances
accusingly at me as if it was i who left the gate unlocked. which i
did.
all this makes you lose your concentration. your ralphs receipt bookmark
has blown away, the bugs are starting to get to you, and you are getting
sleepy. and hungry. reading outside is overrated. napping outside however,
is always appreciated.
Sunday, March 30 5:14
PM :
: cigaweed. i am drug
free. d.a.r.e. is
me. however, if there was ever an opportunity, i would think about taking
hallucinogens. say shrooms. or maybe acid. i am starting to think that
it would be an experience. i am so tightly wrapped up in me, so sure
of who i am, that it would be very interesting to see what things might
result out of some experimentation. i want to open myself up to the
nether world. converse with my subconscious, let down some walls, see
what is really hiding behind my cranium. would i have visions? would
i be paranoid? would i have an ephipany? would it change me? i want
to know.
weed has lost most if it's curiosity for me (not that it had much to
begin with). e was kind of exciting for a second. i wonder what those
druggy sensations must feel like, but i know that they won't bring me
anything but short term pleasure. hallucinogens however, are a different
story. i feel like they might open me up to something. allow escape
into another dimension, another plane of existence. or perhaps i'm romanticizing
what the effects might be. how do i know? i've never tried it. maybe
i'm hoping it would allow me to be uber creative. or give me some insight
into myself. someone told me this weekend that tripping on acid made
all the difference. allowed them to open their eyes. i want to know
if my eyes are open or closed. please, no small eyes jokes.
this is not of course, something i'm dying to learn about right away.
given the ideal surroundings, with the perfect set of people around,
i would be willing and curious. but mostly it's just a thought going
through my head.
Saturday, March 29 11:18
PM :
: holy calamity screaming
insanity. this week has been some straight craziness. so crazy i
haven't been able to touch my computer for a whole three days. *shock*
yes, it's true. i was away from my computer for more than seventy two
hours and yet here i sit, still alive. how can this be you ask? the
secret of my success is dependent upon sleeping ten hours a day, preferably
from dawn till sundown. if you can't swing fit that into your schedule,
sorry can't help you.
starting with bep tuesdays, i was up in long beach for a second on wednesday
to pick up elisa, then back down, to do the usual wednesday night (fumaris
followed by martini ranch). some dj from the beat junkies was there
and he was spinning some crazy good hip hop. it was five dollar cover
though. places are starting to charge for cover even on the weekdays.
wacka wacka. thursday was spent out in the gorgeous weather, bouncing
around san diego looking for places to eat and sit and smoke. there
is nothing that makes me happier than driving around on a sunny day,
with jamba juice and cigarette in hand, with hip hop and a friend blasting
nearby. some of my favorite moments come exactly packaged like that.
windows down, smoke and beats pouring out, cruising in search of everything
and nothing.
on the flip side, friday was mainly five hours in traffic from sd to
la. my neck, my back, it all hurt-ed just like that. gosh. okay, so
it doesn't sound like i did alot. but let me assure you, it was a looong
week. a very good week, a week that felt timeless and never-ending.
oh, and how could i forget the weed fun we had on thursday nite. i personally
did not partake in any of the weed, but without naming names, some people
were hella funny high. if i ever smoke up, well, let's not go there
because i won't ever smoke up.
anyway, i feel like i've been gone so long from my computer. my love.
my sweet. my one and only. mon petit chou-chou. man, i make me sick.
especially since i realized it's only technically been two days away.
is there a twelve step program for computer addiction? i hope not because
i never want to be sent there.
Wednesday, March 26 2:27
AM :
: i like to hear my favorite
song on the radio
so i called and requested on the radio
tell the dj spin it on the mix show
make a brother feel like i'm down at the disco
and we gonna keep it going like crisco
cuz the dj grab the record by the fist full
by the crate full, and we greatful
when you hear the stuff of records get a tasteful
(last night the dj saved my life)
cuz of the collection of the records he saved
to the direction of the record we swayed
and all night through the session we stayed -black
eyed peas, request line-
nothing happens on tuesdays nights. except this tuesday. when we ended
up waiting in line at ole madrid and then walking in to an impromptu
bep performance
and seeing b
babb on stage with taboo and the rest of the gang. whut?!?
there isn't much else to say on the matter. seeing a puma rocking, dread
knocking, one arm broken babbs on stage was enough to put excitement
into my night. not to mention the energy put forth by the entire peas
empire. and some chick who could sing and wear very very low pants.
oh, and did i mention free?
Monday, March 24 9:47
PM :
: took this test
to determine if i had any personality disorders. negatory. well, they
did say that i was anti-social and narcissistic, and that i was moderately
schizotypal and histrionic. which to me, discredits the whole thing.
because really, i'm very well narcissistic but anti-social, schizotypal
and histrionic are not me. so obviously the results
are bunk and i am still a normal perfect person. go me.
and then we have this from eharmony,
a service that helps you find a life partner, the twenty
nine dimensions of compatibility. the twenty nine are: good character,
dominance vs submissiveness, curiosity, industry, vitality & security,
intellect, appearance, sexual passion, artistic passion, adaptability,
obstreperousness, sense of humor, sociability, energy, ambition, emotional
health, anger management, quality of self conception, mood management,
communication, conflict resolution, kindness, autonomy vs closeness,
feelings about children, family background, education, spirituality,
traditionalism, values orientation.
whew. quite a list eh? i'm gonna try to think about what all these things
mean and if indeed it is the most important twenty nine things to look
for. and no, i had no idea what the hell obstreperousness
was either.
Sunday, March 23 8:45
PM :
: adjust the bass and let
the alpine blast. so i am graduated. or perhaps the past tense is
not correct. i am graduating. as in, by my very poor and meager calculations,
i have enough credits to graduate. finally. i will no longer be taking
any classes at the undergraduate level. barring of course, my not actually
graduating. i need to figure out some paperwork, work through some transfers,
email here, snail mail there, be responsible everywhere, and then i
think i will have a degree. a little piece of a paper that announces
my ability to accomplish something in life. i, jonathan yang, will have
a college degree. three years "late", but i will have one. then again,
i could be totally wrong and my credits could be all fucked up and i
may actually not be graduating. which would seem par for the course
because there must be something wrong with my calculations.
i think i'll actually miss taking classes. at least at the leisurely
two classes per week pace i've been taking them. with that kind of academic
schedule, there is very little stress and very little pressure (not
that i had much of it beforehand). i actually get to learn things and
feel like i'm taking something out of a classroom. and the classes i've
been taking at ucsd
have been fun. and i have a friend in most of my classes, which helps
for motivation to actually attend classes. i don't think i've missed
more than two classes this entire quarter. and people say old dogs can't
learn new tricks...
i'm also thinking about taking some classes just for kicks. to extend
my education. because learning does not stop outside the classroom kids.
learning is a life long journey. sounds like some hokey slogan
they made up in middle school for us impressionable kids to remember
doesn't it? for now however, i will be undertaking the enormous responsibility
of working the computer full time for our company. i'll have set hours
and a salary and everything. our boy's all growns up, he's all growns
up! not quite. this is only temporary for a month or two. then we'll
see what happens. but for the moment, so long school, hello nine in
the morning.
Saturday, March 22 11:00
PM :
: listen, here's the thing.
if you can't spot the sucker in your first half-hour at the table, then
you are the sucker. last night, and into the wee hours of this morning,
we got our poker on. texas hold'em, no limit, high stakes poker among
friends. well actually, there were some limits. lots of limits. the
limits of our cash flow for instance. but we were doing the poker thing
with quarters and dollars. we played for a good six or seven hours.
the juice kept on flowing and the fun wouldn't quit.
the house is in absolute disarray after some alchohol on friday and
some poker today, but it's a good kind of disarray. there is so much
busting that goes on at a poker table. actually, if you get a couple
of guys (plus a few chillgirls) anywhere,
there is always busting to be done. halo,
poker, it's all about competition, friendly and fierce. in lieu of actually
doing anything on the weekends, i think we should just do lots more
poker night-ish things. we may as well spread the wealth among ourselves,
as opposed to throwing it away to some random establishment.
quoting rounders
is hilariously fun. we've never done poker before as a group. and now
i'm sure we'll continue to set up some sort of poker event. i'm in it
for the thrills of talking a lot and smacking my gums. the winning or
losing is really just a bonus. of course it's nice to win, but it's
far nicer to just sit there and talk shit about each other, and see
how much fun you can make of everybody as you're taking their money.
or losing it like i initially did.
hanging arrround, hanging arrround, kids got alligator blood, can't
get rrrid of him.
maybe it'll be like the last time i stick it in you... (said while humping
the air).
just like a young man in for a quickie. i feel so unsatisfied.
Friday, March 21 10:47
PM :
: absolut los angeles.
rolled up yesterday to la, mainly to catch amit
while he's on his west coast swing. drove up with babbs
and some friends of his from arizona. it felt like a whirlwind of a
trip. we were always moving. always going somewhere. up to venice beach
(closed). up to santa monica (open). over to victor's
to change. back down to santa monica to hit up a lounge/club (a very
decent time). a little bit of mexican food (very necessary). and then
ass out. we picked up random individuals and groups of people at everywhere
and our numbers shifted up and down. making me feel like we were constantly
planning and waiting and gathering. but in a good way of course. the
more the merrier, as always.
traveling up to LA used to be a routine, so every weekend-ish. but it's
been awhile and now it's a semi-production. you should see the amount
of crap i bring for a one night stay. blankets, clothing, shoes, black
socks, towel, sleep clothes, bum clothes, clean clothes. of course i
had to get some cookies from diddy riese. like always. that's the capper.
when i know my trip is done, when i have some white chocolate macadamian
cookies in hand.
we were talking on the drive home, about the feeling that the city of
angels gives you. the traffic, the congestion, the wide open streets,
the type of houses, the telephone wires stretched everywhere. it's a
very unique feeling. we don't really have that type of atmosphere in
san diego. sd is very suburban and filled with little clumps of things
stuck together to form a city. la is a megatropolis that just flows,
tied together by streets that strech on for miles and miles. i guess
you really need to drive it, to understand what i'm talking about it.
either way, i really enjoy cruising the streets of la.
this week has been so long. each day has been an adventure in and of
itself. from coming back from vegas, to ending school, to meeting up
with people, to LA and now back to san diego. the memories of vegas
are already that, memories. still fresh in pictures but mentally so
far away and in the past. and now it's barely friday, and a whole weekend
lies empty before me.
Thursday, March 20 3:51
AM :
: i have discovered that honey
bunches of oats is still fabulous even sans milk. which is fortunate
because i am definitely sans milk.
Wednesday, March 19 10:24
PM :
: inter-national, underground
thunder pounds when i stomp the ground
like a million elephants with silverback orangutans
you can't stop a train
who want some? don't come un-pre-pared
i'll be there, but when i leave there
better be a household name
don't pull the thang out, unless you plan to bang
bombs over baghdad!
don't even bang unless you plan to hit something
bombs over baghdad!
so war has started today. before i even had really decided if i was
anti-war or pro-war. not that my opinions on the matter were heavily
anticipated by g dub or anything. i guess one could still be anti-war
in the middle of an ongoing war so my education on world events can
still continue. i was gone all weekend so i had no knowledge of bush's
declaration of "forty eight hours or we're coming in" thing. that seems
absurd to me. why would saddam just jet out of iraq suddenly because
of a forty eight hour time limit? i suppose george did it to give him
a chance. and that's all we need isn't it? a chance?
watching the initial
bombing on tv is very weird. first of all, the live video feed is
very strange. it's live. we are watching war happen. not on tape delay,
not on re-enactment. it's happening. the streets of baghdad look very
peaceful in the morning. lonely cars were trucking around on the roads.
i wonder where they were going. who was in them. why they were on the
road when their city was about to get bombed on. but i suppose people
need to get places, war or no war. mcdonald's after all, is getting
ready to serve breakfast around that time.
they interviewed some captain or something. the reporter asked him the
most inane questions. stuff like "so what do you expect out there? how
much force are you guys bringing in? have you been given any commands?
where are you most likely to hit first? what is your quest? what is
your favorite color?" why are we interviewing soldiers about what they're
gonna do? watching the telecast, i felt like it was the moments before
a big sporting event. "what do you guys have to do to win tonight? are
you motivated by saddam's comments? how excited are you to finally reach
the big dance?" it's just ridiculous, watching reality tv war. i'm waiting
for them to break out the play by play. direct hit baybee!
i know everyone wants to know everything that's going on but do we really
need to tell the other side exactly what our weapons are? what plans
and strategies we are planning to employ? did we ask george washington
what he was planning to do to defeat the english? was custer made aware
of the whoop ass that was coming to bear on him? war is ridiculous enough
as it is, without all this tele-drama and live video action.
Tuesday, March 18 8:29
PM :
: lions and tigers and peacocks
oh my. the question i had looking at the white tigers of the
mirage was "why are there white tigers?" they certainly shouldn't
occur naturally in the wild, because their coloring would make for poor
camouflage (they live in the jungles and not the artic), and that should
be enough to eventually kill off all white tigers. white tigers were
obviously not albino either so the question remained in everybody's
mind. possible answers were that the white tigers could camouflage just
as well, because the stripes were still there. or that white tigers
were localized in a certain area so that although they were at a disadvantage,
they could still exist. some of these ideas were right. some of these
ideas were wrong.
but allow the guessing to cease. the answers are now clear. thanks to
a bit of reading on this
site, i have been opened up to the world of white tigers and i am
armed with words like melanism, chinchilla albinistic, and leucism to
explain to you gentle reader, why there are white tigers.
the simple answer to the "why are there white tigers?" question is that
"they are all sick and twisted and mutated and in-bred and sleep with
each other even though they are related." ewwww. yes. most white tigers
are in-bred. oedipus was apparently a white tiger in man's clothing.
the longer answer is that the white coloration is the result of a recessive
gene. as is everything cool. if levi's ever came out with a recessive
jean, i'm buying it, no questions asked. anyhow. the white tiger is
rare because both the mother and the father need to have the white recessive
gene. most white tigers have blue eyes although sometimes they can be
a golden or green color. all white tigers are from the same species
of tiger, a bengalese tiger. but you knew all this already of course.
on to the cool stuff.
all the excessive in-breeding causes white tigers to exhibit signs of
how-you-say, weird shit. weird shit like abortions, stillbirths, unexplained
mortalities, crossed eyes, curvature of the spine, twisted necks, shortened
tendons and in the case of white lions, missing manes. it's a curse
to be a white tiger. so the white tiger that we saw, the one that looked
like it was about to puke? it was probably okay. it was just in-bred,
it's not gonna puke, he's supposed to look like that.
wild white tigers are considered to be extinct in the wild. and white
tigers aren't even endangered because technically they are not a separate
species and thus not eligible for endangerment. tell that to your girlfriend.
"we are technically still the same species so thus ineligible for endangerment
or break up." white tigers did once exist in the wild and litters of
normal and white colored tigers have been reported and documented. however,
white tiger and lions are now only bred in captivity and the philosophy
of in-breeding to create a "non-natural" animal is up for some debate.
there a possible fourteen possible color combinations in a tiger. who
knew? the site covers nine of them. check it out man. fascinating stuff.
nature is so damn cool. there are so many weird aberrant creatures.
i'm stunned that me, an animal lover and collector, did not know there
were white elephants, alligators
or peacocks. geez. i have so much to learn and so little time. you can
cross breed lions and tigers to produce tigons and ligers! how dope
is that? and let's not even get started on how cool fish are. the animal
kingdom is undoubtably the greatest kingdom of all.
in the manly kingdom of assam, the belief existed that anyone sighting
a white tiger would soon die. which does not bode well for the millions
of people who pass through vegas yearly. although this does prove that
siegfried
and roy really are out to to get us. the lesson we have learned
today is that you can mix your lions and tigers but never ever mix one
-er with the other because then you might get weirdo results like white,
cross eyed, short tendoned offspring.
6:54
PM :
: i just finished my paper.
there's this thing on word after you spell and grammar check that tells
you what level your writing is. my paper was written at a tenth grade
level. what the hell? i write like i'm in tenth grade? let's hope i
don't get graded with this system.
this feature being so amusing, i decided to run my last post through
it. that vegas post was 528 words long and contained 2390 characters.
i averaged 11.2 words per sentence and 4.3 characters per word. 12%
of my sentences were passive (is that good or bad?). the ease at which
you read it was probably 73.4. the flesch-kincaid reading grade level?
5.7. i have apparently just discovered the reason for my middle school
mentality. it all makes so much sense now.
Monday, March 17 1:32
AM :
: leaving las vegas.
there is now a sense that there will always be another day. there used
to be a panic attached to leaving. a "when will i see you again" type
of moment. but after a few dozen rounds of goodbyes, in locales all
around the globe, you start to get the reassuring feeling that you will
see people again. the people you want to see will eventually come back
around into your life. even if it's only for one or two week stints.
this is just a very general rule of thumb though. because there are
many people that i wish i could see more, but just don't get the opportunity
to.
but the best thing about getting these opportunities to re-unite is
the little moments and memories that are created. and then remembered,
and then re-told. a little story to be pulled out three hours later,
five days later, three years later. who could forget ameer
cruising the public streets of vegas with a glass and flask of crown
perpetually in hand. who could forget mental images of the bellagio
fountains? who could forget the system (more on that later)? every new
trip, every new group of people, creates a web of memories and images
that binds them together.
what happens when those memories are old? when all the creation of new
memories is gone and all you are left with are fumes from the "good
old days?" is there still a bond? is there still something to be held
onto? or is it simply that? memories? luckily, i may not know anytime
soon because new memories with old people are being created at a fast
and furious pace.
like for example. vegas and the system. when james
and eric and
michiganunited
came up with a system of craps in december, they really came up with
a system. they weren't fooling around. eric wasn't fooling around. he
came with sheets prepared. we analyzed and looked at those sheets even
though we had all just arrived in vegas and many of us were hungry.
we luxuriated around in our venetian
suite and pontificated on "what the hell are all these numbers?"
no details will be revealed. no numbers exposed. but suffice to say,
the system worked. we all won. together. like a team. we all essentially
spent a weekend in vegas for free (unless you lost money, in which case,
you just feel a little better). that my friends, is a system.
the other thing i've taken out of the weekend is exactly how gigantically
dorky we are. porta and louis
were cranking out a C++ program to figure out the possible numercial
success of our system. there was much discussion of things related to
blogs and the internet. there was "it's saturday in vegas and we're
sitting here watching alot of television" moments. out of fifteen people,
ten of us were engineers or computer science majors. do we sound boring?
i assure you we're not. no clubs, no alchohol, just lots of hanging
out with a vegas backdrop. and of course, about a bajillion cameras
to document everything that twitched or moved. [pictures][louis'
pictures]
Friday, March 14 2:48
AM :
: sometimes i wouldn'ta made
it if it wasn't for you
when i was handlin the shit i had to do
it was all for you, from the door for you
speak through you, gettin paper on tour for you
from the start, thought was down by law for you
used to hit up every corner store wall for you
we ripped shit, and kept it hardcore for you
i remember late nights, steady rockin the mic
i remember lots of times i wouldn'ta made it if it wasn't for you
hip-hop, you the love of my life and that's true -the
roots, act too.. the love of my life-
hip hop. i love it. i appreciate it. i feel it. but do i own it? is
it me? do i have any ownership of the music, the movement, the culture,
the history? to me those answers are a resounding "no." i don't own
hip hop. i am not hip hop. my persona, my being, is not hip hop. one
can be infused with hip hop, to have a deep appreciation for all that
true hip hop stands for, yet still be not hip hop. i do not mc. i do
not break. i do not write. i do not dj. i do not partake of the culture
any more than the average person on the street. i buy (download) the
music. i respect the art form. but because of that respect, i cannot
say that i am a part of hip hop.
but what then is ownership of something? do you have to be a part of
something to own it? if i rock phat farm and fubu, am i hip hop? if
i dance to hip hop, am i hip hop? if i know every little minute detail
of the history of hip hop, am i hip hop? if i can sing along to the
lyrics, am i hip hop? i don't think so. some people think you can buy
ownership of hip hop. some people think that you can just pick it up
like the latest fashion. but i think to be a part of something, to say
that you have ownership and possession of something, you need to be
a part of its creation. not just a bystander, not just someone looking
from the outside in. you have to be, if not a part of that community,
then somewhere uplifting it and representing it.
hip hop is more than just music. it's a culture. it's a culture that
i have not grown up with, that i have not actively participated in,
that i have not in any way shape or form advanced. i can breathe eat
and sleep hip hop but i still would not feel right saying that "yes,
i am hip hop." because i come from a place where i only adopted hip
hop because i felt like it was right for me. because i initially felt
the music. i love hip hop, but at this point, i hesitate to say that
it is me. because it's not me. you can dress hip hop, talk hip hop,
appreciate hip hop but unless you create hip hop, i don't feel like
you have any right to ownership of it. i can say that hip hop is a part
of me, but not vice verse. people sometimes confuse the two. they are
not to be confused.
i am however sure that i own something. i own filet
o fish fridays. one dollar for a filet. one dollar people. this
is not a game. this is not a joke. this is not a warning in the event
of an emergency. this is real. one dollar. fillet o fish. this is the
great social equalizer. this is a public service announcement. go get
that filet on friday.
and also. with any luck, i will own vegas by the end of this weekend.
double down. yo.
Thursday, March 13 11:05
PM :
: all i do, man, is stare
at their mouths and wrinkle my eyebrows, and somehow i turn out to be
a big sweetie, okay? so are you a listener or a talker? i'm generally
a listener. i think. some people say that i talk alot but i think i
only talk alot when i need to. i'll turn it on when it's supposed to
be me talking. i'm efficient like a sprinkler. this is not to say that
i'm a quiet person however. but the art form of listening has been apparently
broken down into five levels (courtesy of the
seven habits of highly effective people), let's take a gander shall
we?
(1) ignoring - not really listening at all.
(2) pretending - make believe listening filled with "yeah, uh-huh,
right".
(3) selective listening - hearing only certain parts of the conversation,
like when we're listening to the constant chatter of a preschool child.
(4) attentive listening - paying attention and focusing energy
on the words being said.
(5) empathic listening - listening with the intent to really
understand what a person is saying by getting inside their frame of
reference.
now this seems to make pretending listening and selective listening
pretty bad. ignoring isn't so bad. if you're ignoring someone you're
trying to show them that you have no interest whatsoever. at least that's
honest. pretend listening. ooooh. now that's bad. nobody likes to be
pretend listened to. that just plain sucks. i think i come off alot
at number two and three. mainly because i feel like i'm nodding alot
and making alot of "um-hums." but i'm listening, really. i just want
to reinforce the person speaking to me, but sometimes i feel like a
bobble head doll. nod nod smile nod.
i try to be at level four most of the time. if people want to sit me
down to have a conversation, i'll try to be engaging and attentive,
keeping the most salient points in mind. i like people. people like
listeners. people like people who are actively truly listening. now
level five, can we say that we do that all the time? in my conceit i
would like to say that i do. but i'll have to think about it some more.
"listening with the intent to really understand what a person is saying
by getting inside their frame of reference." hum, that sounds like quite
a bit of work. are number five listeners pretty rare do you think?
i have to say though, there are many times when i really am pretending
and selective listening. how do you tell? hell if i know.
2:18
AM :
: how does this this
work? i had serenity
explain it to me. buuut. it makes no sense. and don't be using words
like "math" and "equation" and "formulas." that arithmetic stuff is
all fake. i want the real psychic answer.
update: two minutes later. shit. i feel dumb as shit. no, dumber
than shit. i just figured it out. or had it explained to me. man, i
hate feeling stupid. i did go to kindergarten twice so i'm a little
slower than you. ms cleo is salivating over my stupidity. oh man. hit
me over the head and call me brain dead.
Wednesday, March 12 1:52
PM :
: larry legend.james
just called to say that he ran into larry
bird in an elevator at vegas. larry freakin bird! james got to shake
his hand. the field report said that his hand was "very large." james
didn't have a camera though so he didn't get a picture. but that's okay,
because i will be stalking larry bird (he's staying on the twenty fifth
floor) from the moment i touch down in vegas. man, larry bird, the best
player to ever put on little tight green shorts. larry bird, the most
clutch player ever. larry bird, the man i tried to pattern my own game
after (so far i've only got the too slow, non-athletic part down, the
shooting and skills will follow). larry bird was drafted by the celtics
in 1978. i was born in 1978. coincidence? i think not. i wonder if mr
bird will sign my celtics jersey, the one with his number and my last
name.
and in an unrelated yet related to testosterone thing. is there anything
that makes you feel more manly than picking up your very own dry cleaning?
i know you females out there won't understand this, but when a guy has
to go get something dry cleaned it's a sure sign that they've reached
adulthood. those of us in the white t-shirt jeans bum set don't often
have very many articles of clothing to dry clean, but when we do, wow,
how masculating. it ranks right up there with popping those giant packing
bubbles. aargh. feel the power.
3:05
AM :
: a key principle in realizing
our oneness with the tao is that of wu-wei, or "non-doing." wu-wei refers
to behavior that arises from a sense of oneself as connected to others
and to one's environment. it is not motivated by a sense of separateness.
it is action that is spontaneous and effortless. at the same time it
is not to be considered inertia, laziness, or mere passivity. rather,
it is the experience of going with the grain or swimming with the current.
our contemporary expression, "going with the flow," is a direct expression
of this fundamental taoist principle, which in its most basic form refers
to behavior occurring in response to the flow of the tao.
we watched a video today in taoism
class. about tai-chi and chinese calligraphy and the tao and the wu-wei.
it's such a beautiful way of thinking and interpreting the world around
us. to draw power and energy from the earth, from the trees, from nature.
the tao can be simply explained: taoism's central principle is that
all life, all manifestation, is part of an inseparable whole, an interconnected
organic unity which arises from a deep, mysterious, and essentially
unexplainable source which is the tao itself. the philosophy and
world view that arises from these simple principles is so beautiful.
i watch the tai-chi movements and can't help but wonder what i could
get from learning about this ancient philosophy. would it open doors
to myself? to the world? to a place where i can gain an understanding
of life? the awesomeness of nature and the purpose of duality all expose
themselves through the motions and the thought processes of the tao.
i believe so much in participating with the flow, in not interfering
with life (which is not inaction), not fighting the natural current
of things. this, in a way, helps to explain to me the way i am, the
way i react to things, the way i function. the duality of objectivism
and relativism seems not so much a struggle anymore, but more like opposite
forces working together harmoniously. i want to experience the tao.
i want to tap into spiritual strength. take the knowledge of a thousands
year old philosophy and see what i can glean from it. i've seen tai-chi
many times and never really got a good grasp of the meanings involved
in the motions. i want to know. i want to open those doors and see what
i can find.
it's very hard to put into words the sense of awe i feel at exploring
taoism and eastern philosophy. it feels very right. like when i read
rand. it feels like i belong to this, and it belongs to me. my modern
day interpretation of the tao is summed up thusly, "chill out."
Tuesday, March 11 5:59
PM :
: the future is a stereo that
eats your favorite tapes
the soundtrack to your youth that cannot be replaced
so hold on to every song before they disappear
your future almost here -josh
joplin group, siddhartha's of suburbia-
and it starts like this we crave to be kissed
by a moment complete in its happiness
far away from the things we wish to escape
that lead us to think we are not awake
we are ourselves despite ourselves
this place gets smaller as the universe swells
we come to terms eventually, eventually, eventually
i am not the only cowboy in this one horse metaphor -josh
joplin group, i am not the only cowboy-
i think therefore, i think i am
i can’t make my mind up and i can’t make you understand
how i get distracted, how i search for things to say
how i let myself get myself into my way
i love to hear you talk, it’s funny but it’s true
what gets into me must be you
what gets into me must be you
i’m always late but it’s really not my fault
time just hates me, that’s why it made me an adult
if wisdom comes with age then i haven’t got a clue -josh
joplin group, must be you-
12:19
AM :
: how can you not love a wizard
of oz toy line that comes with the "not for children under seventeen"
warning? craziness. and it's todd mcfarlane. obviously. it's a little
sick, a little grotesque. but i love the wizard of oz so maybe i'll
have to get it. what will the neighbors think?
and also, we've all seen contenders for the world's smallest cheeto
but here is the
world's largest cheeto. i hate cheetos but this is just too amusing.
Monday, March 10 7:20
PM :
: another gripe spawned at
the bookstore. so i flipped around some various music magazines
while i was doing the dinosaur/scantily clad women thing. hip hop has
come to the brink and everyone
is coming up with "the top ten ways to fix hip hop." and related shit
like that (although one particular article was penned by the esteemable
common).
vibe was featuring something about the hip hop hollywood phenomenon.
the source was
featuring some hip hop article too. as it should, since it is a hip
hop magazine (i had no clue benzino was a co-owner of the source).
anyhoo. the main source article was not about naked dinosaurs hip hopping
around but rather the way records are only getting radio play nowadays
based on kickbacks and greased palms. the clipse couldn't find any radio
play for their hit single, grindin,
in their very own hometown because they weren't well connected enough.
they had to do some grass roots touring to get the radio punks to play
their music. and that song is a butt moving classic. the conglomerating
and consolidating of radio stations has led to a very difficult environment
for up-and-coming artists to break into. many radio djs and owners are
getting paid to play singles and sometimes won't play tracks without
some payola. this means that however hard you might struggle, however
good your music might be, you might never get that breakthrough moment
due to twisted shady economics. one agent even said that he could hardly
get any love for a guru/premier/krumb
snatcher track. not that gangstarr ever gets radio play anyway. but
the fact of the matter is that radio is soon (if not already) becoming
as homogenized as your local starbucks (not to drag them into it, i
actually like starbucks). the little people get left starving on the
sidelines while the crap gets distributed. i hate capitalism. oh wait,
no i don't. i'm randian. whatever.
does this whole thing not make you outraged? does this not make you
wonder how you'll ever make it in this big bad noon to five world? yeah
okay. me neither. but seriously, this ain't funny so don't ya dare laugh.
just another case about the wrong path, straight and narrow, or your
soul gets cast. good night.
6:21
PM :
: sex (and dinosaurs) sell.
is it not disgusting that you have to pander to the masses when selling
magazines? when national geographic has to resort to putting out a swimsuit
issue, you know something's wrong. and don't be telling me we need
to see "one hundred years of swimsuit pictures." it's all for marketing
purposes, these scantifly clad national geographic women. nothing redeeming
or inventive about a retrospective of swimsuits. and not nearly enough
skin either. if you're gonna do a swimsuit issue, do it right. forego
classiness and education. go for crass and botox and silicon. sheesh.
i was about to grab a national geographic to read when i looked at the
cover and was revolted by some half naked seductive female on the cover.
oh whoops, that was a maxim.
national geographic actually had a
cover about dinosaurs.
as did scientific
american. which brings me to a sudden startling realization. magazines
are putting dinosaurs on their covers because they know i like dinosaurs
and want me to buy the issue! the article is barely anything news worthy
or revolutionary. dinosaurs just appear on science magazines so that
they can keep circulation up! whoa now conspiracy theory. whoa now nelly.
this is despicable. i refuse to be led around by my single celled brain
and buy magazines just because they have a dinosaur story as a "feature."
they know i like dinosaurs. i know i like dinosaurs. and they know that
you like dinosaurs. so they put dinosaurs on the cover to fool us into
buying a magazine. luckily i circument the whole buyer-seller
relationship by camping out at the bookstore to just read and re-rack.
i will show you, the man, that i will not be coerced into buying your
damn magazine. but i will read your interesting, informative and thought-provoking
article. thank you for keeping me abone of dinosaur happenings.
i could never work for a magazine company. having to continually put
half naked women and dinosaurs on my covers just to make money. how
shameful. but then again, it's not like i'm adverse to half-naked women
and dinosaurs. they are probably both up in my list of top one hundred
favorite things. so i guess the system is alright. don't you hate it
when you go to the bookstore and get all activist and bitter about the
world? just read man. it's fundamental.
on a side note. does putting sex and dinosaurs as my blog title totally
discredit my gripe? does it make you want to send me money or just read
and re-rack this post? i'd prefer if you sent money. vegas calls this
weekend. i promise profits from all contributions.
Sunday, March 9 3:21
AM :
: to the extreme i rock a
mic like a vandal. rolled up to the studio
this afternoon. i just like saying that. combining "rolled up" and "studio"
in the same sentence makes me feel important. like i'm an artist creating
stuff for mass consumption. like, "i rolled up in the studio today
and knocked out a few tracks. kicked back, relaxed a little bit, worked
some, sipped on a keg of lemon water. the album'll be out in june. holla."
and then go get in my limo and cruise away into the sunrise.
but alas, i was only in the studio to witness the decimating talents
of my friends. the studio was somewhere in el cajon and it was typical
studio stuff. big warehouse building with aluminum siding and cars parked
all about. i mean, nothing big. so blase, this studio stuff. you've
seen one recording studio you've seen them all. ha. totally not. being
in the studio was really cool. i like looking at all the machinery.
i am mesmerized by all the blinking lights and the pushy button things.
i like thinking, "stuff is made here." it's obviously incomparable to
being in a flute factory but it's very cool nonetheless.
victor was
crooning away when we first got into the recording lab and we could
see him through the glass and communicate via microphones and speakers.
i wanted to take a picture of me, all serious-like, sitting at the boards
but i figured that would be disrespectful to the real sound engineer.
anyhow, hung out at the studio for a couple hours, watching and listening
to gene
and james do
some singing and guitaring. it's damn neat to see your friends shine.
whether it be on stage or in a little two by two hot box.
i don't get tired of listening to the same thing over and over again.
especially if it's good stuff like gene's got. instead of getting sick
of something due to immense repetition, i learn to appreciate more when
i can see the whole creation process. it's a neat feeling. whether you're
sitting down to video edit, write something, create something, if you're
there during the whole process you can marvel at how a project got from
a to b to c. i wish i could of captured my feelings in some sort of
written form. but instead i just read magazines and tried to soak the
atmosphere in. i did of course dust off my trusty camcorder to get some
footage. so look for that on some bootleg business someday when everybody's
famous. if you can't make money off your friends' talents what good
are they anyway?
i am also amazed at the musical technical expertise of the people in
that studio. "that bar there, that something something there." they
have to repeat and do takes over and over and correct tiny little things
each time. for me, i can appreciate the medium of music but i don't
know enough about it to be breaking it down. so watching and learning
how a group of people work with each other to pick out little nuances
and details is pretty amazing. because of my lack of knowledge, everything
seems so magical. vagical even. that's the new word from today. if it's
better than magical, it's vagical. sick and stupid. but hey. you reap
what you sow. peace.
Saturday, March 8 6:55
PM :
: so our new dryer came today.
apparently our old dryer was off protesting. anti-spinning rally i believe.
because i am the man of the house, and because nobody else is home,
i had to wait for the burly dryer men to come. they came. and delivered
our new dryer. normally a totally un-blogworthy event. but this dryer
is craziness. it's so new it smells like fresh bounce.
it's got a plastic shoe rack for drying shoes. it's got two buttons
and four dials- one dial is to set the finishing beep volume, i hope
we didn't pay extra for that feature. it's an extra large dryer, for
extra wide loads. there's a little light inside the dryer, undoubtably
a close kinsman of the oven light, so that you can check on your clothing
mid-cycle. my clothes have never been dryer. it's great. you should
come over. we can dry stuff together. even shoes.
on a sidenote, i think that "your dryer so big" jokes would be way more
pc and humane than "your momma so fat jokes." your dryer so big the
last time she saw 90210 was on the scale! um, but not nearly as
funny.
6:23
PM :
: guacamole. it's not as
easy as it looks. have you seen this ad? the one for the new carl's
junior guacamole
bacon six dollar burger? a guy gets an avocado out of the refrigerator
and attempts to make guacamole (you knew guacamole came from avocadoes
right? right?) by putting the avocado in a blender. the avocado bounces
uncut in the cylinder and the tag line comes up. "guacamole. it's not
as easy as it looks." hilarious man. hilarious.
so i'm trying to write an article for tien and victor's web thing. my
article is supposed to be about babbs.
about his work, about him, about something. but the problem is i'm having
a terrible time getting started. i want to do something good. i want
to do something that reveals a part of him, that reflects his work.
and i want it to be good. oh wait, i said that already. but anyway,
i've decided that attempting to write something about someone you know
is extremely hard. because you already know them, those initial impression
feelings are gone, they've been replaced by memories and opinions. it
would be so much easier to just interview some random person. because
then everything you feel in that encounter can be noted and written
about.
but in the case of trying to write about a good friend of yours, it's
difficult. i don't want to have an interview with him that's just straight
forward and relatively boring. or maybe it should be that way, so that
i can't mess up. but i would like to engage the reader as well as highlight
some aspect of the artist. so basically i'm blogging instead of brainstorming.
that's been proven to solve many a problem. blogging. it's as easy as
it looks.
Friday, March 7 11:46
AM :
: don't be fooled by the
rocks that i got. this jenny working the block business has got
to go. i'm past the point of trying to hate the song for good reasons,
ie. her bling bling image contrasted with her keep it real lyrics. now
i just hate the song. the beat is stolen from a far superior track,
the lyrics are terrible, the radio keeps playing it over and over. and
over. doesn't she have a new single by now? dang-o. i think it's partly
because of this very song that i don't listen to the radio anymore.
and look at how seamlessly she went from jennifer lopez to j-lo. so
easy, so febreezy. just like when puff daddy became the p diddy, and
mc hammer became just hammer. i choose to disregard the initial skepticism
and mockery. nobody likes change. nobody likes initials. this smooth
as butter transformation does make me believe that i too could be monikered
anything i want with a little public support. so when i decide on a
new name for myself, i expect your support okay? okay.
this is in no way hating on jennifer lopez. she's great. i'm a great
admirer of her multimedia mogulship. anyone who can successfully transition
between three careers is to be applauded. plus, any woman who needs
to insure her ass is pretty much golden in my book. btw, her j-lo clothing
line sells plus
sizes. interesting. i'm not sure if i should be all like go girl
or if it's just funny. in a twist of irony with a hint of lime way of
course.
Thursday, March 6 11:47
PM :
: you (sdg&e)
light up my life. the electricity just went out. my first panicky
thought was that someone cut the lights and was about to come breaking
in. but keep it real. if somebody wanted to come in and jack me and
my home, i doubt they would need to clip the lights first. i mean, i'm
intimidating and all but we're talking professionals here. i am but
an amateur screamer. my initial secondary thought was that the fbi was
putting some moves on. but once again, the same irrefutable logic lead
me to the conclusion that this was just a power outtage. and seriously,
i live in del mar, the bastion of upper middle class suburbia. nothing
crazy goes on here.
where is that prometheus guy when you need him? i dug around for a lighter
or matches to light my candle. i couldn't find any. ironic no? i am
a smoker who can't find a damn light when absolutely necessary. i should
be shunned. i was using the fluorescent light from my cell phone to
find my way around. ghetto.
the lights are on now. obviously. no need to get freaked out for me
here. i'm a-ok. check your pulse, hitch up your belt, bunch up your
panties, life can go on. it occured to me that if the lights went off
when i was all alone at home i might just be forced to cower. but let's
hope it never gets to that. suburbia man, it's not the inner city but
its got its hazards.
[update 12:21am] the lights went off again. if this isn't a reason
to buy more glow in the dark stuff i don't know what is.
10:50
PM :
: upside down and inside
out.do you know someone who needs hours alone every day? who
loves quiet conversations about feelings or ideas, and can give a dynamite
presentation to a big audience, but seems awkward in groups and maladroit
at small talk? who has to be dragged to parties and then needs the rest
of the day to recuperate? who growls or scowls or grunts or winces when
accosted with pleasantries by people who are just trying to be nice?
this
article calls these people "introverts." i just say they're anti-social.
but hey, i'm quick to judge. but since i was speaking of introspection
the other day, this article is about introverts. wheee.
the quintessential hard-core smoker, according to eysenck, is an
extrovert, the kind of person who: is sociable, likes parties, has many
friends, needs to have people to talk to....he craves excitement, takes
chances, acts on the spur of the moment and is generally an impulsive
individual....he prefers to keep moving and doing things, tends to be
aggressive and loses his temper quickly; his feelings are not kept under
tight control and he is not always a reliable person. heavy smokers
have been shown to have a much greater sex drive than nonsmokers.
i can't decide if this makes me want to smoke more or less. not that
i'm a hard-core smoker by any means. but not being a hard-core smoker
doesn't mean i don't like parties. in related news, i'm free friday.
Wednesday, March 5 2:10
AM :
: chimerical. in adaptation,
charlie kaufman asks his brother how he can ignore what everyone thinks
of him and be such a total dolt. david/daniel/d-something replies that
he decided long ago "you are what you love, not what loves you."
deep. who writes this stuff? oh right, charlie kaufman. anyway. after
thinking about this one for a bit of time now, i've decided that not
only is this absolutely right, it's absolutely confusing. (it's also
against the grain of what we are taught in our daily interactions.)
i agree with it very much because in principle it means that you are
who you want to be. you get to decide what you love and thus who you
are. the opinions of others don't matter in the slightest. the issue
here of course, is that it's pretty easy to end up with a pretty unrealistic
vision of yourself. if everyone else says that you're a fool but you
don't think so, chances are, you're a fool. power to the little people
and fight the power but four out of five dentists can't be wrong.
so what to do with this "you are what you love" phrase? define yourself
on your own terms and decide what makes you tick or take a slightly
more realistic view and figure out how people actually perceive you?
do people's perceptions matter? it does to an extent, but it's far more
empowering to say that people's views don't matter. it makes us all
stand grandly like oak trees, to say that we are unaffected by the perceptions
and misconceptions of others. i like to say this to myself all the time.
"i don't care what anybody else thinks, i'm me regardless of people's
perceptions." this is mostly true when i speak it but even i understand
that i can only say this after many years of affirmations and friendly
support.
nobody comes out of the womb confident by nature. some people never
gain that inner confidence, but for most of us, we are emerging or fully
in it right now. we have friends who accept us for who we are, we have
left the stifling social circles of institutionalized education, we
are stable solid and aware. we know what we like and why we like it.
i think it would be extremely interesting to chronicle the steps and
the events that lead to someone's state of self assurance.
wouldn't it be a shocking thing to be told that your version of you
is totally different than everybody else's version of you? would that
be merely interesting or more along the lines of earth shattering?
1:55
AM :
: at one point in the orchid
thief, ms. orlean asks a park ranger named tony why he thinks people
find orchids so seductive. his answer matches both the nonchalance and
the insight of this remarkable, impossible film:
"oh, mystery, beauty, unknowability, i suppose. besides, i think the
real reason is that life has no meaning. i mean, no obvious meaning.
you wake up, you go to work, you do stuff. i think everybody's always
looking for something a little unusual that can preoccupy them and help
pass the time."
for susan orlean
(the character), the flower is literally and figuratively a drug. she
desires desire itself. in a world of convenience and leisure, can one
want something so thoroughly as to make oneself vulnerable to it? this
is a major modern conundrum. but the addict will give you a quick answer.
Tuesday, March 4 10:02
PM :
: intro to the spective.
i used to say that i really liked people who were introspective. this
is until recently when i realized "hey, everyone is introspective."
who doesn't like to think about themselves? shit, if you can't think
about yourself what else are you gonna think about? introspectioin is
perhaps a little deeper than just thinking about yourself but anyone
who doesn't contemplate their own thoughts and feelings probably ain't
doing too much anyway. we're all trying to figure ourselves out as we
figure out the rest of the world. so thus i've concluded that introspection
is going right up on the shelf with "nice" as an attribute. everyone's
"nice." everyone's "introspective."
not everyone however, is interesting. some people are quite frankly
boring. or trite. or boring. or have a lot to say but you've heard it
all before. this is of course based on my own personal observations.
and my biases play strongly in this particular opinion. actually my
biases play strongly in all my opinions.
i've been told that maybe sometimes people just don't open up to everyone
and so they appear shallow or boring on the surface. but no. i hold
strongly to the opinion that while god may have made men equal, he did
not make them all equally interesting. you don't have to entertain me
or be interesting to me right off the bat but honestly, aren't there
many times when you meet people and you go "oh, i've seen this before.
let's mosey on out of this conversation..." giddy yap.
1:31
AM :
: astra
starfallen. for our final children's story we had to take one
of our previous
stories and flip it and reverse it. changing the tone or the characters
and totally ignoring all the things we've learned about plot, setting,
character and resolution. so pretty much we could write however the
hell we wanted. that's my kind of assignment.
Monday, March 3 8:57
PM :
: il postino. have you
ever tried to track down the mailman while he's working the route? it's
like finding a cop, there's always two when you don't need them but
never one when you do. ms pamela left her wallet up in LA a few days
back and she had it express mailed to her friend's house but the mailman
never dropped it off as requested. so pam had to delay her return trip
for a day in an attempt to get her wallet back this morning. but we
woke up a little too late and the postman had already left on his deliveries
and there was no way to contact him. in this day and age of cell phones
and electronic gadgets and the mailman don't got no communication? that's
taking snail mail to the extreme don't you think?
so we cruised the twenty two hundred through twenty five hundred block
of carmel valley road and amazingly enough, found the damn guy. as soon
as pam got her mouth open to say we were looking for a package, he was
like "oh, twenty five oh five right? yeah, i just dropped it off." the
larger gentleman then said something about not noticing the waiver to
drop off the package on saturday. but we were happy. our mission was
at an apparent end and we cruised two streets over to grab the package.
duuuude. the mailbox had a lock on it. and it was one of those security
mailboxes where you can drop stuff in but a metal plate prevented you
from pulling stuff out. we borrowed a construction worker's tool thingy
and started to yank stuff out of the mailbox using our arms to reach
into the locked part. pam yanked out some catalogs and some junk mail.
i tried and actually pulled out a small package. i thought i was gonna
be a big hero and save the day but naw, it was the wrong package. snikes.
after a few more failed attempts and one instance of trying to fish
something out with gum, we decided to give up in order to get her to
the airport on time. in short, we had quite an adventure trying to find
the postman and the package but in the end, was totally unsuccessful.
but mondays like this are far and few between. and now i know what to
do when trying to recover a package from the postman. i know how to
track him down and get him to spill his guts. well, either that or we
could just wake up earlier.
12:43
AM :
: bein my bloodline is one with
the divine
in time brotha, you will discover the light
some say that god is black and the devil's white
well, the devil is wrong and god is what's right
i fight, with myself in the ring of doubt and fear
the rain ain't gone, but i can still see clear
as a child, given religion with no answer to why
just told believe in jesus cuz for me he did die
curiosity killed the catechism
understanding and wisdom became the rhythm that i played to
and became a slave to master self
a rich man is one with knowledge, happiness and his health
my mind had dealt with the books of zen, tao the lessons
koran and the bible, to me they all vital
and got truth within'em, gotta read them boys
you just can't skim'em, different branches of belief
but one root that stem'em, but people of the venom try to trim'em
and use religion as an emblem
when it should be a natural way of life
who am i or they to say to whom you pray ain't right
that's who got you doin right and got you this far
whether you say "in jesus name" or "al hum du'allah"
long as you know it's a bein' that's supreme to you
you let that show towards others in the things you do
cuz when the trumpets blowin, 24 elders surround the throne
only 144,000 gon get home
i've lived and i've learned
i have taken and i've earned
i have laughed, i've cried
i have failed and i have tried
sunshine, pouring rain
found joy through all my pain
i just wanna be happy with being me -common,
g.o.d (gaining one's definition)-
Saturday, March 1 10:31
PM :
: it hurts to laugh. any clenching
of any muscle hurts. this makes getting out of bed, getting into and
out of the car, a little slow. i walk very gingerly. this is the result
of a day's worth of football. not even tackle football mind you, it
was a day's worth of flag football. i haven't been this sore
in awhile. i don't work out (duh), i don't run, i don't exercise except
when i play basketball, and i expect to never get sore. this is when
i'm supposed to be reaching my athletic peak. if i were in the
league, my age would bring me heightened expectations and fatty
contracts. instead i'm sore as all hell from a day of flag football.
but it was well worth it. we, a ragtag bunch from cbc,
put up a good fight and only really lost due to our inexperience and
lack of practice. when we first got to the field we were staring at
the other teams --all korean churches, stocked with large korean male
specimens-- running pass drills. the quarterback would take the snap,
whip out a laser and the receivers would catch that thing in stride.
well actually, some of the receivers really sucked but the team uniforms
they sported were slightly intimidating. needless to say we were not
half that organized. but we put on a good show. after giving up five
touchdowns to none the first half of our first game, we only allowed
three more touchdowns the rest of the way. we lost all three games,
34-10, 12-10 and 2-0. we gave up like four safeties in total. but we
were bringing these organized teams to their knees with our studlly
defense. a moral victory is just as good as a real victory, especially
when your body is breaking down. half our squad had rebuilt knees, tweaked
ankles, torn muscles, and we had more strappable gear than a s&m convention.
why are korean guys so damn big? that was a problem, the huge offensive
and defensive linemen trying to truck us little chinese guys. but our
d-line was outstanding. i don't even know why i'm sore. i didn't really
get hit that much, outside of one huge guy killing me on a block. i
knocked off his glasses, he knocked me on my ass with my legs facing
the sky. fair tradeoff i'd say. but today was more fun than i've had
in quite awhile. we need some more participation in organized sports.
1:50
AM :
: fireman: one. financial analyst: zero. ok ok,
i'm a little slow on this bachelorette
dealy. shame shame you know my name, blah blah. i caught the back three
episodes though, in tonight's marathon, but i forced myself to turn
it off before the last "giveaway" episode. (instead i called george
for the answer to "who did trista pick?" because i figured she would
know.) i didn't want to stick around for the final "heavily edited,
sure to be heart wrenching" ending because (a) dude it's saturday night,
i'm single and in my house alone, and i'm watching a bachelorette marathon.
if that doesn't spell loser i must be using a different alphabet than
you. and (b) i can't stand to watch a grown ass man get his little heart
broken. sure, it's kind of okay to see girls cry on tv, it happens all
the time. trista was rejected? whoever whoever was rejected? boohoo,
i've seen girls cry. but dang man, to see one of these studmuffins break
down in tears after a rejection? that my friend is too much for me.
there's no crying in baseball!
but i realize the entire appeal of these reality dating/marrying shows
is to see the rejection. do you really care who ends up with whom? it
never lasts anyway. the thing to watch is people handling rejection.
i'm not a raiderette?
i'm not a laker
girl? i'm not tough
enough? i'm not the
one?!? oh the pain and the agony. i've never gotten flat out rejected
like that, to my face, in front of tv cameras. how do you react to something
like that? most of my rejections have come slowly and ubiquitously.
there's a sudden aha moment when i realize "hey, i'm a reject."
but to have someone just tell you that to your face. dang man. hurts
hurts. that's why i try not to overextend myself and expect acceptance
into anything. clubs, girls, basketball games, social functions. set
those bars low and keep that attitude nonchalant, it may not make for
a great tv show but it certainly causes less drama. and it keeps the
tears away, you know how important that is for big men like us. i mean,
you.
another thing i've learned with ryan taking trista home. chicks dig
poetry
eh? or was it the hunky fireman thing?
