Thursday, August 21, 2008

Lola and Papa and Me
I went to the airport yesterday to pick up Lola. I parked in the wrong garage because I didn't realize JetBlue was in the International Terminal. So, I ran around, lost and feverishly looking for her gate. I got there. Sweaty. She still wasn't there. I saw a lady at a baggage claim station and asked her what arrival she was waiting for and she said New York. Right flight. So I stood there for a few minutes unsure where the passengers would be coming. I was feverish because I didn't want Lola to wait. I was feverish because I was worried she was going to be carrying her baggage. It's been two years since I last saw her. Maybe 4 years since I actually was hanging out with her. So, as I was pacing, I turned around and saw her being pushed on a wheelchair.

I was taken aback because I didn't realize how much she aged. She wasn't just on a wheelchair, but she looked smaller. She looked more frail. As we talked, she revealed to me that she had recently been sick and that she now couldn't eat as much - hence the dramatic weight loss. When we talked, there was a distance. She doesn't hear as well as she used to. She doesn't respond as coherently as she once did. She's still the same with charm and faults. She's Lola. But age has caught up to her. Even hearing her talk and seeing her move - the physical frailty is evident. She's still strong willed as ever, but she's definitely physically slowed down.

Papa and I dropped her off at the airport tonight. She was on a 1-night stopover before she was headed for a month-long trip to the Philippines. We spent about an hour and a half sitting with her and talking. Me, I was mostly listening actually. They both apparently are quite worried that I'm headed towards a life without love and full of loneliness. It was funny actually.

When it came time to see her off, we talked with her as she was pushed on her wheelchiar (there were many lolas riding wheelchairs to their flight). Once she entered the security area, Papa asked me, when I last saw her, if she looked as thin as she does now. I said no. He said it surprised him. She told him on the phone in the past months that she was getting sick and couldn't eat, but seeing it with his eyes also took him aback. He said he almost cried. I told him I felt the same.

As we were driving home, he started sharing stories about how giving and selfless Lola was as a mother and wife. He talked about how he saw the ills of his home life as a kid once he grew up. He talked about the sacrifices that she continually made. He also talked about some of those "bad parts" of her - not in judgment or resignation, but contentment that she, like any other person, was afforded those "shortcomings" and you take it with loving good parts she offered. He said that she also was able to live - she was a leader, she was matapang, she worked her way up in the Philippines until politics screwed her over and opened the door for her to emotionally move on to the United States. He just talked about her and his life with her through his now ever aging eyes and was beaming.

I think he's scared. I know he's sad. I hope he's content. It sounded like he was preparing for the inevitable. She's his mother. She's his hero. He's never opened up like that before. He shared stories in the past, but even slightly stepping into the real darkness of his life as a son within that family atmosphere rarely ever happened. Mama's told me more about that than he has. It was endearing him share. So endearing, in fact, that I almost started crying. And it was also deeply saddening.

He also talked a little about our relationship and talked, without pleading, about the desired bettering of it. He talked about his lack of a relationship with his father due to that experience as a child. He talked about the lack of sacrifices - lack of fatherhood that his father performed. (And of course, I've already known about that. Mama's told me a lot. She first told me in high school when our relationship was even worse. I'm pretty sure she was trying to be the mediator without taking sides. She was trying to lecture me about my bad attitude without just telling me why it was wrong. She was proving to me why I was wrong.)

I sat frozen. I was nodding and listening. I was providing the space for him to share because that's what he obviously was hoping for. But, the one thing I wanted to say, if nothing at all, remained unsaid. All I wanted to say was, "you're nothing like him." He's worked hard not to be him. And, like Lola, like myself, like you, like anyone, Papa's not perfect, but he's wonderful. He's courageous. He could have easily regurgitated the same grave mistakes that his father made, but he didn't. Did he make his own mistakes? Definitely. And, I know he's conscious of it - and, sadly, I think he may regret those mistakes moreso because he may feel he let us down. That, maybe, it's primarily his fault for the strained relationships he has with my sister and me. And that, like once every few months, is what kills me. That and how I froze. That and how I haven't yet learned how to tear down this wall that I've built between us.

When he was talking about Lola's selflessness - her hardheaded selflessness, I wanted to tell him that I recognized that he learned his hardheaded generosity from her. I wanted to tell him he was nothing like the self-indulgent non-father figure he sadly had to experience his whole life. But I didn't. And that, until fixed, will always be my greatest fault.

Ulam cooked @ 12:34 AM

 0 of the headscratch variety

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

16 blocks
(I saw Dr. Char post this and I'm gonna do it.) (Facebook Note Post. Just ignore me.)

Directions:
Once you’ve been tagged, you have to write a note with 16 random things, facts, habits or goals about you. At the end choose 10 people to be tagged, listing their names and why you chose them. Don’t forget to leave them a comment (”you’re it”) and to read your blog. You can’t tag the person who tagged you.

16. I'm currently greatly offended at myself for making such a poor cup of coffee. (And, yes, I miss my 2 lbs of fresh 100% Kona Coffee beans straight from the island.)

15. My two favorite characters in Juno are the her two parents played by Alison Janney and J.K. Simmons. I particularly love the scene when Juno tells her she's pregnant and they wax on about how they were hoping it was something criminal or drug related. It's funny, but so sad that I think people really think like that.. like a pregnant teenager's the end of the world.

14. Evidence of my non-committal self: anytime someone asks me if I have plans, I always say: "Umm. Maybe." Because it'll give me a chance to back out if I don't really want to go.

13. I want to go to a dermatologist because I'm getting irritated by the chronically dry skin under my eyes.

12. I thought the 10 year anniversary of the best summer ever started our strongly and is screeching to one of my least favorite ever. (I mean, that's relative since I have nothing to complain about in life. Not when given perspective.)

11. I'm emotionally enigmatic. I think I trip out when I realize most of the people surrounding me are nowhere near my atmosphere. And I'm not saying my "atmosphere" is better. But, deep inside, I think I'm vastly different than most of the people I spend most of my time with.

10. I was a bit taken aback to see my Lola yesterday at the airport. She's aged a lot in the year that I haven't seen her. It was really nice to spend time talking to her, but it also made me sad.

9. I'm technically the "last" of the YAP men (since Carlo's going to carry a different last name) and it does supply me some pressure regarding our familial name and extending our (name) genealogy.

8. Any Smallville fans out there should be concerned about Season 9 even moreso now that the 2nd of two baddies is named "Maxima". She's really pretty, the actress playing her. But, uh, weren't the Nissan Versa cameos already enough product placement let alone naming one of the main antagonists the flagship CAR of Nissan? Geez. Oh, a fact about me? Well, I'm worried.

7. I'm still hopeful that one day Nas and The Game will do a collabo that is fully produced by Kanye West and that Kanye West never raps again.

6. Like Dr. Char, I have a questionable gut reaction when I read/hear Filipinos claiming the Pacific Islander tag since I feel like a majority of our genealogy (and original language) comes from the original Malaysians. Yet, I feel them since the first outrightly racist "abuse" I ever experienced as an adult was by Asian American folks on an asian IRC chat room. Really.

5. Although I pined over many of them with wonderfully tragic (aka O.A.) poems, I'm super glad none of the relationships I wish had happened never actually did. So, I'm saying "Thank You" to the lovely women in my past who have rejected me.

4. I like this line from Gilson Hubin a Canadian comedian who appeared on Def Comedy Jam: "I don't care what anyone says. Racism isn't over until they change the flavor of black licorice."

3. I'm putting way too much thought into this pretty innocuous "Note". I have also been using "innocuous" a lot lately and I'm pretty sure I've been using it incorrectly at least 40% of the time. 60% of the time, it works every time. Roar.

2. I also hate Anchroman the movie. I also sometimes lie about the amount that I love the movie Anchorman... People call me the Bry man; I'm the stylish one of the group. I know what you're asking yourself and the answer is yes. I have a nick name for my penis. Its called the Octagon, but I also nick named my testes - my left one is James Westfall and my right one is Doctor Kenneth Noisewater. You ladies play your cards right you just might get to meet the whole gang.

1. I cringe every time an adverb is used incorrect. *Cringe*

NOW, for the 10 Taggerrees:

1. Joyce - because she's going to do it, because she loves facebook.
2. Fina - because she's going to do it, because she loves facebook.
3. Nico - because he's going... umm. Because he has free time.
4. Rob - because he's a good writer and people should read more of it.
5. Larrah - because 1 interesting fact about Lars is interesting - think about how much it'll be too much on a 16th degree.
6. Joy - because I think she'll have a good time doing this.
7. Michele - because (I hope) she has a few more days to procrastinate and she might have fun procrastinating with this.
8. Lisa - because I'm sure there are 16 new facts about her just after experiencing her own personal "Supernanny" moments.
9. Jen - because she's ignored KAPOW for a few weeks, and we need to get some new Jen Kpaowisms.
10. Jay - because he's my hero. Haha

Ulam cooked @ 12:07 PM

 0 of the headscratch variety

Monday, August 11, 2008

Weekend and other wonderful and silly shit.
Softball Weekend Part 2
This past weekend saw me participate for the 2nd year in a row in the San Mateo County annual softball tournament. And, like last year (as I blogged on August 12th, 2007), it was a fun weekend with playing on hot rubber field turf, being a needed asset on a team, and playing for the Championship.

This year, there were only two divisions: Competitive and Rec. I guess they mixed in the higher-level rec teams with the competitive division (aka Probation and Sheriff's Dept.)

In the championship game (that we had to play ourselves into since we had a tie with the Sheriff's dept) we got down early, but unlike last year, we had no comeback in store. We got ripped 20+-4 or 5. Nonetheless, I think we all felt we gave it our all and succumbed to just a far superior team.

Interestingly, other than Tim our captain and my coworker, all the guys that played were best in the infield. So, for the most part, I played LF and LC. Two prime outfield positions and I wasn't all that bad. I wasn't great. I misread a balls but for the most part didn't hurt us. So, once again, it felt nice being expected to do well and also producing. Yes, level of play was lower, but I'll take it.

Like last year, my tournament crush was there playing for her team (our "rivals") and still caught my attention.

Last week, starting Monday, I played softball 5 of 7 days, and I'm playing tonight and tomorrow. I would hope the repetition pays off. Unfortunately, with the BMen team, I'm still not much of a real asset and that sucks.

Random stuff....

- I hope the "salad" I just ate wasn't made of bad lettuce and tomato.

- I gotta give it up to my new Garmin nuvi 200. I've been testing it since Friday when it arrived. I've played around with directions, Points of Interest, waypoints (like Zachary's Pizza), and even checked the ETA this morning. It added to my delays and as I got closer said I would arrive at 9:10. And, sure enough, I got to the parking lot at 9:10. Cool! Right now, I'll probably use it more for POI and ETA, but it'll be fun to get lost and fine my way out with that... say instead of calling Rob and asking for directions from mapquest like I did in 2002 when I was driving around aimlessly in Marin and Solano counties.

- How could I run around, sweat, and do all that so much this weekend and gain weight?!?! I feel slimmer. It would be nice if it was retained water weight and muscle gain. But if not, what the eff?!

- I have this annoying patch of hair next to my right ear that accentuates a need for a trim.. or a shave.. or a.. wait for it. Secret!

Ulam cooked @ 1:26 PM

 0 of the headscratch variety

twitter.com/writingprompt: Lost at Sea
We got to Alhambra.
Washed in fresh water.
The baths cleansed
Our achingly bitter souls.
We sand in unison
with the song of the streams.
Sweetness caressed
the subtlty of our
modest convictions.

Ally was the spring
rising earlier than
my mother's son.
She was realization
in a stream.
Of.
Unconsciousness.
And again I was overcome
by her undertowing
presence.

But she was an enigma.
An aura of a ghost
gone in the midst
of glance given elsewhere.

So we left Alhambra
for the Burgandy shore.

Bells rang in the bastion
of benevolence.
The mystery of burnt umber
resonated as we bathed,
yes, once again,
in a stream of
brilliant disorder
and blissful blessings.

Bella spoke strongly
in eloquent staccato.
Her verses flirting on the 1s and 2s
like drum n' bass.
I could only listen
in amazement as my ears,
left defenseless,
fell deeper and deeper
rushing swiftly from the delta
to the outpouring rush
of serenity,
like the aftermath
of a violent massage.

But then Bella flew.
Flew away from the shore to
the horizon.
Flew from combative compassion
past the crashing waves
and into the abyss of
confusion.

And our journey is left
idly swaying in a contorting sea.

A conflicted sea.

In cryptic seas.

Ulam cooked @ 10:36 AM

 0 of the headscratch variety