Monday, November 10, 2008
Crazy Energy Revisited: "peacocking"
The strange coincidences started to fade away.. that.. or I haven't been paying as much attention lately. Work's been getting busier and with the Election and Nanowrimo converging at the same time, life's been more of an afterthought.
Maybe October was just - self-indulgence month. Food, beer, psuedo-drama, hopeful things, and whatnot. That meant understanding myself and the world around me were priorities number one and one-a. With the other parts of life becoming the forefront, all of the esoteric hippie shit gets pushed in the back-burner. (Not completely though.)
So, lately, I've been thinking of the idea of "peacocking" a bit more. As you know, the peacocks have the beautiful feather patterns and they expose them as a mating ritual. (Or so I assume). So, peacocking means "getting your game on" or "showin' out". It means.. digging out of this desired hole of anonymity that I've somehow grown into. It means.. stop feeling wrong for trying to self-advocate. It means.. being out there in the world showing folks that I'm worth knowing and that it's your loss if you don't know me. Of course.. not in a cocky, a-holeish way.
I joked on FB on Friday that I would be peacocking in the city while I would be watching Cal play (aka get their ass handed to them by) USC. (They fought valiantly, actually - but just overmatched). So, it was just another same old-same old at Yancy's. Nothing wrong with that. Football, beer, friends, scrabble, cards, silliness, and all that.
Hung out at C-mo's former crib with former roomie.
Watched a few episodes for The Fresh Prince of Bel Air. Saw that the school, the phony University of LA, had a mascot of PEACOCKS. I'm sure it had to do with the show being on NBC, but I thought it was funny. I didn't intend to be out that late. I never thought I'd EVER EVER EVER be in that house again. I MEAN.. EVER! And, there I was.. 2am in the morning seeing a random "peacock" reference after supposedly "peacocking" earlier in the night.
Neither had much weight though since there wasn't much to peacock for, but I thought it was funny.
So, maybe the great energy came in the expected (and LONG) path of changes our world will be undergoing.. and how much this feeling is different from 4 years ago.. wasn't what that energy was alluding to. The good energy moves on.. even in spurts.. but it goes on. Just not sure what all that means.
As usual.
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
Getting over you..
Funny the songs we use to get over people.. here we go. In the vain of the stages of grief or something.. (This is more of my younger self.. but I thought it was funny what I've used to "get over people").
Stage 1: Denial.
The denial here is that she doesn't mean anything to me and that it's lighthearted enough because.. I'm in denial that I don't like her all that much.
Song: "You're Not the 1" - The Grouch
Honorable Mention: "Big Pimpin'" Jay-Z
Stage 2: Anger.
I realize that I have deeper rooted feelings for her. I realize that there was an opportunity that something could've happened. I realize that I'm tired of her bullshit games.
Song: "Sic Wit Tis" - Mac Mall
Honorable Mention: "Your Gyrlfriend" - Kurupt
Stage 3: Bargaining
I realize that I'm less angry at her than I am at the situation. I sulk sulk sulk thinking that I have control of the situation. Not her. I pretend I have control. I pretend that I'm leaving her behind. I pretend that it's better for her.. and me.
Song: "Do What I Gotta Do" - Ralph Tresvant
Stage 4: Depression
I realize that all I can do is sulk. I realize that I'll be single forever. I realize that all this sadness just makes me respond with negativity. I am spiteful.
Song: "Superman" - Eminem
Stage 5: Acceptance
I realize that.. FUCK IT.. life is good. I realize that the sulking from the days before was just all silly. What's the best thing to do? Start the cycle over again.. find someone to crush on.
Song? No song.
MOVIE: "SWINGERS"
"I don't want you to be the guy in the PG-13 movie everyone's *really* hoping makes it happen. I want you to be like the guy in the rated R movie, you know, the guy you're not sure whether or not you like yet. You're not sure where he's coming from. Okay? You're a bad man. You're a bad man. You're a bad man, bad man."
- Trent
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
6:28PM Election Day 2008
4 years ago I was naïve.
I chose to believe.
I acted on conviction,
Represented my heart with full distinction.
Sick of the world. Fighting for change.
Got caught up in hope
I couldn’t maintain
Levity in an unfair world,
I begged for folks to be heard,
The injustices would stop,
I thought… we were smarter than not.
But with electronic machines
And without paper trails,
The momentum prevailed.
The wrongness prevailed.
Repeated mistakes by the people
Fighting for decreased rights of the people
Does it ever.. change – whatever the face?
Whoever it is that wins this race?
Is there reason for me to believe,
Beyond thundersticks or magic tricks revealed,
That democracy prevails in the face of
Tyrannical hail,
The oppression from fear…
What do they matter, the numbers we near
If Wednesday’s just like Monday
Without the bickering ads or
the pundits’ play-by-play?
Presidents have come, and presidents have left,
But the same suspects are the same victims
Victimizing ourselves in rhythm,
And propositions and legislation
Keep passing in the eyes of the constitution’s devastation.
4 years ago, we fought for the same,
The economy, the war, the shame
Of democracy’s endorsement of the dissolution
Of civil right,
The same old fight. The same old fight.
4 years ago is 4 years fast foward,
4 years ago is today. It’s Tuesday,
And to what do what to look toward?
Today is a new day of the same old,
Same old struggles with the future of the people sold,
To the same 5% who have controlled the world,
The ones with the money and agendas unfurled.
So tell me, again, why my anxiety
should be anything but given their puppetry
given that society
keeps telling we,
that only certain people, with certain ideas
and certain bank accounts
deserve equality
in our mythical land of liberty.
Tell me what stones we have left to throw
At the folks we don’t want to know
And want to keep swept into a corner
Adept in the corner so we continue not to know
Or to understand or to bestow
Rudimentary human decency
Because today, like 4 years ago, we don’t know what that means.
There are the faces, the ages, the situations
The bad choices, the lack of atonement, the insinuations
The grieving, the leaving,
The heartbeats lost to the sheathing
Of swords fought in modern day crusades,
Why decide to pray if you’re just hoping for hate today?
The hearts broken, the hope taken, the children left sick,
Because their parents are given tricks.
Criminalization and fingers pointed.
It’s not us. It’s them. We say. With their guiltiness anointed.
They’re wrong. We’re right. Is that right?
Why are we so eager to incite instead of pushing for insight?
Is this what is supposed to excite me?
4 years after I hoped upon hope for the best in society.
And got the least.
Should I expect more than another defeat?
Because 4 years from now, is there any proof
That all this, just won’t
Repeat?
Thursday, October 23, 2008
more great energy..
It's weird what our decisions lead us to.. in timing and subsequent things that unravel. More crazy energy.
On Saturday, I went to Razelle's place to celebrate Nathan's 4th birthday. I bought him a reversible hoodie from Old Navy. I didn't get a gift receipt. I made a mental note that I'd tell Razelle that I had the receipt if she wanted to exchange it.
Fast forward to today. Randomly, I found out that Fable 2 was released and that it came with a $15 itunes gift card at Circuit City. Stayed a bit later at work. While driving home decided to pass by Circuit City though didn't officially make the choice until I got off the freeway. Went to Circuit City.. as usual, they didn't have any stock. Roamed around for a few more minutes. Then left.
Went across the street to Target because I needed shaving gel.
So as I was walking to the entrance, there was a dude outside and mumbled as i walked by if I listened to rap. I think he was trying to sell his cd. But it was dark. And hollering it like that wasn't very comforting.
I went straight to the shaving gel and picked up a canister. Went to the video games and checked out some stuff. Roamed around a bit in the dvds. Decided I wanted to stock up on deodorant. Got some. Then, as I was walking towards the registers, I saw some polos on sale. Checked them out. Flipped around to the other side and then I found a transformers t-shirt on sale for $7! (Optimus, Hot Rod, Bumblebee and Jazz. The originals.) Lolly gagged a bit. Walked around the the fitness clothing looking for new pants for nighttime athletics. Then, I was done. At some point, I reminded myself that I had to tell Razelle that I had a receipt.
Had the choice of 4 or 5 different registers. Chose one. Paid. Left. I decided to go straight out the exit and go a meandering way to my car to avoid the dude selling CDs and as I was on my way, I looked up and saw a familiar silhouette (it was the walk). I ran into Razelle and Nathan! Now, it's not such a big deal I guess since I run into people at times at Target, but I was just thinking of them and I also spent much much more time there than I expected to. It's not like the few other times that I saw people right when I entered.
Anyway, the funniest part was that Nathan showed off his shirt to me.. a Transformers t-shirt! So, I showed him what I just bought. By chance, I saw that Transformers shirt.. on sale.. and there were NO other Transformer shirts when I saw it.
So. The crazy weird vibe continues.
Goodness coming. I know it.
Friday, October 17, 2008
The Energies: Something's Coming
Preface: A Quote from The Alchemist: "When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it."
Part 1: Thursday Evening Work
I was in my office barely after 5pm lollygagging. I was planning to leave at least 5-10 minutes earlier, but for some reason I was just lounging around as I sometimes do. One of our youth strolls in looking for a training my coworker was leading at a different office. Good thing I was there so I could drop him off.
At the training, I stayed for a few minutes longer than I had expected just to talk and to eat some pizza. I was craving pizza the day before and earlier in the day. I also provided paper towels and plastic utensils from my car that I hadn't removed in months. I always intended to bring them into the office.
I was outside of the room when a lady came in looking for a graduation ceremony for a mentoring program run by the County. I knew two of the people in the room should've known something about it, but I couldn't interrupt them. I tried to help the lady as much as I could - which wasn't much. She was still gracious and left. Eventually, during an activity, I found out where the graduation probably was being held.
As I was leaving, I saw the lady still walking around outside and grabbed her attention. I told her the bank building she was looking for was across the street (there were 3 bank buildings at a major intersection). She was very gracious.
SO.. it all works out. Me not leaving earlier.. our YC being dropped off at the wrong place.. me bringing him to the training.. us needing plastic utensils and more napkins.. lady getting lost.. me staying and leaving at the right time to see her walking around and giving her directions on where to go. It all works out.
Part 2: Counselor Breakfast
I went to a High School Counselor breakfast this morning at Skyline College moreso as a sign of good will for the future collaborations I was hoping to engage the outreach team in. I arrived a bit late after sleeping through BOTH of my alarms. Arriving late allowed me to scan the room and see the people I somehow knew. It also allowed me to meet others who I've emailed in the past.
Anyhow, the breakfast was great. It was so inspiring to see what innovative outreach and retention strategies they were employing through hip hop, ethnic studies, and concurrent enrollment with high schools around the area. It brought me back to what I was writing yesterday about learning.. how a major piece of my heart and soul thrives in the identity of an educator. Even sending out texts and posts and IMs about Dictionary.com got my brain stirring. I thought, yesterday, that maybe I still do have the fire to be a teacher... someday.
So, as I was driving to the office, I decided to get some Hawaiian Drive-Inn. After getting my order, I set out onto El Camino Real to get onto 380 and some pop song by Robyn from the 90s was on the XM channel "The 90's". I didn't pay it much attention, but it somehow got my mind meandering to Vitamin C who sang some graduation song. I never listened to it much, but I thought it would be funny to post the video on FB.
On 101 South, Jason Mraz' "I'm Yours" came on again. Then, I noticed a car drive past me with a personalized license plate essentially reading: "Vitamin C". It was spelled differently. I forgot the exact lettering, but it did read "Vitamin C".
****
I feel like something's happening. Something good. Not sure. But I did appreciate some of the Mraz song's lyrics (because I really didn't listen to them much except for the hook) - basically saying that time's short and why keep putting off what you've wanted any longer. Yes, it was much more sappy, rhymed, and about love.. but I'm hearing it for the big picture.
Even when Lisa pointed out earlier this week on her status that she felt something big was coming.. I was thinking of posting a similar status earlier in the day.
Something big's coming.
Something good's coming.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Learning.. movement.. and another tattoo origin story
One of the larger Youth Development influences here in the Bay Area is the John W. Gardner Center based in Stanford University. I work in Youth Development. It's more than what the "name" may say. If you ever wanted to know.. let's go get coffee. But, I just wanted to share quote..
"“The ultimate goal of the educational system is to shift to the individual the burden of pursing his own education. This will not be a widely shared pursuit until we get over our odd conviction that education is what goes on in school buildings and nowhere else.”"
I love y'all teachers.. and you, my dear friends, know that what you do in the classroom reaches full potential when the students have supplementary education outside of the classroom.. the school yard.. even the world of "academics".
A love of math can come from a love of sports.. and stats.. and fantasy football.
A love of reading can come from sports.. again.. through the sports page and the various websites.
A love of science can come from watching a documentary on surfing or skateboarding.
A love of history can come from talking about the music industry and hip hop.
Anyway. This is a wonderful quote that helps to explain another one of my tattoos. There's a piece that says "philosopher" - obviously because of my pensiveness, enjoyment in reflection, but it's also about the idea of a LOVE for LEARNING. When I was getting it, I was weighing Philosopher versus Creator. I chose philosopher because of the value of a personal love of learning. I got it from my parents. I got it from my mom rarely giving me an answer straight up and instead sending me to a dictionary to find the meanings of the words I asked her for. I got it from my dad because of his inquisitiveness. If we learn to stop asking questions, then we learn to stop learning.
Yet, learning only begins with asking and finding answers. Learning continues with action. And that is why I surrounded the "philosopher" characters with a horse and the character for "destiny". Horses represent movement and action since before cars they were obviously used as transportation and social and communal evolution. What I wanted the combined pieces to say was that my life will only reach its full potential if I, not only keep thinking, analyzing, deciding, and learning, but also take action on the things that matter. That is how I should reach my destiny.
But. But.. as John W. Gardner also stated..
“One of the reasons mature people stop learning is that they become less and less willing to risk failure.”
I get complacent. Comfortable. Cynical. Shut off. Fearful. A cog of the system versus a catalyst for the system.
I always was energized by the ideal of "no day, but today". But there's a major disparity between living for the now and getting caught up in it.
Sometimes it takes a while to process the challenges of our daily lives, transitions in life, loss of connection, and idleness, among many other things, but I'm thankful for them. Once the processing is done, the movement happens.
And, for all the various reasons for me to spur movement, I will.
Monday, October 13, 2008
peace by piece... and it all makes sense
PART 1: Peace by Piece
Oct. 11th was locked down a few weeks ago as a meaningful day. I didn't realize the whole weekend would've added to the whole aura.
Woah. Peace by piece. I didn't initially see a title or a post reflecting on that concept, but it totally makes sense. It does.
For a while, I've had that concept of "peace by piece" in my mind as the governing theme of the next tattoo I would get. I've played around with various ideas - never settling on any soso forced imagery that I wouldn't have been happy with. In August, the desire to get one kicked back in and I researched more on symbols of peace. And I found some interesting ideas.. finally deciding on a the Barn Owl.
Why the Barn Owl? Well, the first part came with this article about how for two farming towns in Israel and Jordan the barn owl is a symbol of peace. So, as I researched more on how the barn owl looked and other info on it, I found that it was a very common bird that lived in all continents except for Antarctica. It was a solitary animal that often built homes in established buildings/spaces. Then, the owl in general, has various interpretations across cultures from being mysterious and "deathful" because of its nocturnal nature to being wise and observant. Plus, as the article on the farms evidences, the owl is a crucial part of the ecosystem.
So, in essence, the barn owl is a symbol of peace but is also a piece of numerous natural systems.
The clinchers, obviously coincidental but cool nonetheless, were...
1) as I was biking with Nico back home from Coyote Hills I swear I saw a barn owl fly right in front of us maybe 65-80 yards away. Maybe it wasn't a barn owl. But I swear it was an owl.. light brown.. flat face. I had never seen an owl fly in front of me before and I've biked to that area many times in my life (albeit most when I was a kid). I checked online to see if barn owls were native to Coyote Hills and though rare they do inhabit this area. The other, more common, owl looked nothing like the one that flew in front of us.
2) the next morning, when Nico was in San Diego in a cab going to an interview, the radio talk show was talking about barn owls. He told me about it because of the conversation from the day before.
and...
3) something else that leaned towards it.. but I don't remember.
So, as I researched artists online, I found one that seemed cool. Eventually consulted with her and set the date.. for Oct. 11. As we talked yesterday, she also informed me that she's been looking for a taxidermied owl. So, it seemed to all make sense.
And, the end product, what's living on my arm now, is damn beautiful. I'll show it when it has settled in.
Now.. WHY Peace by Piece? That concept, obviously not coined originally by me, still means something to me. My first domain named "blog" supergaling.com was themed: Peace by Piece. World peace, inner peace, any kind of peace. Piece as in poetry, comments, observations, photos, creation. Piece as in a layout gimmick called an "online quilt" of my thoughts and snapshots into my soul. Peace by piece. I wanted it on my arm, also, because my hands are what I use to physically create as a writer, typer, drawer, photoshopper, publisher, sports player, etc. Peace. By. Piece.
PART 2: the weekend
Before the weekend came a emotionally draining week of moping, weakness, and silly self perpetuated angst.
Friday night, dedicated to a night of hanging out with high school friends, was also the target for some angst-driven drowning. As Mon and I went there, lots of memories were spurred by the neighborhoods and streets we drove to. Since San Jose has many landmarks of my life in them (post college and pre-current life) I was remembering a lot. First street exit on 880. Downtown San Jose. San Pedro. Santa Clara. San Salvador. South First Billiards.
We gabbed about the updates on our lives, differing opinions on "kids these days", and set up a group birthday party for everyone's birthday near or way past gone targeted for December in Vegas. Thanks, Estee, for letting us invite ourselves to party.
Then, as I was slightly enhanced, I talked about, among other things, one of my favorite people, Katie.
Saturday morning was a strange and long familiar feeling of dread, apprehension, dehydration, exhaustion, and relief (that I was more fatigued than anything else). I got ready to go, jumped on Bart, grabbed some cash, had brunch with Claudia, and headed up to the tattoo shop. Oh, driving to Bart included hearing Jason Mraz' "I'm Yours" - and that always reminds me now of Katie because of a cool story she shared with me about a friend of hers who was proposed to with that song as the preface. Oh, and on my way to the city on Bart, I finally listened to Nas' latest album. As usual, it was full of words to make you think (and unfortunately some songs that were cool in concept by corny in execution... I'd like to start a college and make Nas our first professor, though).
During the process, the artist and I had some cool discussions about politics, San Francisco, art, humanity, and other stuff. She finished with everything by 2:45. Earlier in the week, I talked to various people about meeting up in the city. The earliest any of my good friends could meet up was 5. Any other prospects were busy or in other parts of the city (I was in the Mission). I decided to take a walk on 16th from Valencia towards Guerrero. Once I got to Guerrero, I crossed 16th, and walked back to Valencia on the opposite side of the street. As I got closer, I saw a face that looked like Katie's. As I took more steps, I realized it WAS Katie with her friend and her super cool dogs.
So, from that point til around 5:15, I hung out with Katie and company as we sat down for some light food, got up and walked to Dolores Park, I dog sat for 5 minutes and was sufficiently UNprepared, drank out of a paper bag, and chilled as I looked out at parts of the clear skyscape of downtown San Francisco.
The funny coincidence is that Katie and I had talked through some texts about her possibly coming with me when I got my tattoo. Obviously, it didn't happen, but we serendipitously ended up hanging out that day anyway.
At 5:20, I got up to go meet up with Anne - my former supervisor, still current mentor and friend - at Blondie's for a quick "thirst quencher". It was really great to be able to sit down and talk with her especially since last year at work, my first without her guiding and inspiring me, our conversations were buried in work drama and me still, unintentionally, asking her for support. This conversation though was just about life, faith, hope, peace, Jesus the badass, and how all that stuff is converging upon her as she and her partner are planning their wedding. She really is a great person and I'm extremely lucky to have been of thought well enough by her (and the youth who interviewed me.. and Marb and Maria) for her to hire me and really develop my professionally for the two very big transition years after grad school. As she talked about lots of crazy beautiful and crazy crazy things experienced by her recently, she discussed how the aura of this time of the season was making her sixth senses jump - basically about how coincidences were making connections with each other.
After our beverages, we had to part ways and move on to whatever else. I jumped on Bart (after getting to the deck right in time for the direct line to Fremont to arrive) and went home. I passed the Oakland Coliseum in time to watch the Warrior game, but I decided to not watch it and instead JUST go home. I already had plans to go to Sacramento on Sunday morning.. early.
While on Bart, Art and I exchanged texts and decided that I'd come up to meet them for the regular... conversations on the patio, 49er football on Sunday afternoon, and lots of Madden.
When I got to Sacramento, not only were Art, Melinda, and Hum there, but Alex and Barb were there also. I haven't hung out with them for a long, long, long time. They talked shop (aka parenting) and again there were lots of fun moments in the conversation that varied in subjects and varied in place and time - like in college, to childhood shenanigans, to life now as adults. Again, this was just like old times when the guys all lived together at Adams.. and then when Art lived with Alex and Barb in Sacramento and Hum and I would drive up from the Bay.
Saturday fused into Sunday while were still gabbing away. Once Alex and Barb left, Melinda went to sleep, and the rest of us extended our discussion to the patio (in the freakin' coldness and mostly talking about the ills of the niners and some possible solutions) then moved inside to play some Madden until we all were way past ready to sleep.
Once we all woke up for Sunday, it was more of the same. Madden. Niners loss. good times. And we ate Dos for lunch.
PART 3: when it all makes sense
Then I drove home to take the whole weekend in while I flipping through 14+ channels on XM to capture a good song, a good mood, a good groove, and whatever. One of the last songs to play: Jason Mraz, "I'm Yours". Last song to play: Survivor, "The Search is Over".
I thought of how cool the whole weekend was - how serendipitous lots of things were from the high levels of Katie-centric things happening (especially with the Jason Mraz starter and capper).
I thought of how major moments of my life were all represented this weekend: high school, Davis, AARS, and my life right now at yfeezey.
I thought of how much I've changed, evolved, progressed, digressed, and just constantly kept adding more to my existence through each step of the way.
I thought of why I consistently disqualify myself from the idea that I could in fact be the apple of someone wonderful woman's eye.
I thought of why I was in such a funk last week (and basically for the past few weeks or months).. but particularly last week because of the same old BS about unrequited romantic opportunities - of the various ways of rejection I experienced... or at least perceived to be rejected.
I thought of how I may have wrongly assessed the rejections.. if they were rejections at all.
I thought of why they mattered in the first place and why I let things like that get into my head instead of constantly eating up and thriving off of the good times like what this weekend provided.
I thought what it was that made this weekend so special - the conversations, the world conspiring to bring long distanced friends into my physical sphere, the meaningful talks, the hope through change, the laughs, the smiles, the real - deeper leveled connection.
I thought of how this was the 10 year anniversary of the Best Summer Ever and this summer was probably one of my most isolated physically and more importantly emotionally and soulfully from most of my friends.
I thought of how the void was real and how deeply affected I was by it.
I thought of "The Search is Over" and how, when taking out the cheesy romantic part, the song really spoke to why I've been who I've been for such a long time: the pickiness and sometimes pettiness, the singlehood, the lone wolfing, the self-sabotaging. Since I've been so rich with friendship, investing time in other (new) people (yes, in that way) seemed unnecessary.
I thought of all this and knew I had to write about it. So, when I started to type..
I thought of how my quest for a beautiful tattoo that represented the "Peace by Piece" theme, that physically ended yesterday once the tattoo was finished, really represented this whole weekend.
I thought how that was so cool - how the energies of the world - were truly conspiring together to make it a reality - and now how I've once again found some uplifting spiritual roots from The Alchemist.
I thought of how it all makes sense, how I've been complacent in many matter, and how that's gotta change.
Peace. By. Piece.
Tuesday, October 07, 2008
A real fan letter!
In response to this Outside the Lines: Manny Ramirez on ESPN.com by Bill Simmons the Sports Guy.
I wrote this to Bill Simmons:
"Hey Bill,
The first piece of yours I ever read was about Paul Pierce and it inspired me to write sports columns (albeit, at the time, about wrestling).
So, since then, I've religiously flocked to your picks, your mailbags, your, Curious Guys, and anything else. Now, while the mailbags when you're on fire have given me some of the most entertainment, I always referred back to the first piece about Paul Pierce as the most meaningful I guess. It brought me back to my senior year English teacher who tried to hammer in us the "show don't tell" type of writing, and I thought she was nuts because I couldn't figure it out. Eventually, I must've learned because I passed the class, went on to college, graduated and did all that wonderful stuff. But, what really grabbed my attention was how, in that article referring to a dinner you had with him, you showed us how he LOVED basketball. You didn't tell us. You proved it. As a person who loves the craft of writing, I totally appreciated it on multiple levels.
Anyway, this is going longer than I expected. I've sometimes attempted to contact you to respond directly to your columns, but usually to and unsuccessfully be witty enough to land on a mailbag. Actually, I did.. in dubious distinction. I was the numbnuts that kept referring to David Stern as "Daniel" Stern.
But, I'm writing this because I just decided to end any productivity here at work, the final 15-45 minutes of my day, and read your OTL article on Manny. I just want to thank you for writing it because it was pretty damn exquisite. I don't think I've ever used that word before, but it was. Aside from the truisms, like Manny always working out his slumps in a very well timed extended at bat. Being an A's fan, I've seen it.. a lot. He's killed our hopes more often than I'd like to count, but I love that guy. Like you said, baseball's extremely individual - and that's what he was. He WAS baseball because he wasn't BASEBALL. Does that make sense? It does to me. (To steal a line from you.)
Aside from the truisms, I just appreciate the way you were able to write about the pathology of an aching sports fan. Others have done it, like some article I just found online by some professor who's a cubs fan, but I was completely engrossed by your exploration of Manny, the situation, and your "showing not telling" of the conundrum he creates in you as a real fan.
Alright. I hope you read this despite its length. Thank you, sir. Great job!"
Friday, September 26, 2008
11 Years-Plus
11 years ago
came the day
the last time
i was important to someone.
11 years ago,
i shared a love,
a love like woah,
that swiftly left
as we outgrew each other.
11 years ago,
she was lost
to be found once again,
as a friend,
but only to be lost
once more.
Each time gashed an everpresent scar
in their unique ways.
11 years ago
came our time.
And it was love while it lasted.
And happily left
in the past.
Lamented is shared love,
the vacancy of symbiosis
where my nerdy, liberal, psuedo-artistic self
met her intelligent, quirky, hyper-brilliant essence.
Because there was no her.
Or if there was,
there was no me.
Or if there was,
the seasons were gravely different
on our planets.
11 years of a beautiful life
experienced primarily primary.
Solitude was champion
in the tournament of wilted roses.
A man emerged from the garden
comfortable in his own glory -
no matter how self-indulgent it was.
Content. 10 years and months to spare
equate contentment.
But 11 years plus does not.
11 years-plus means that
the man knows nothing of love -
at least the love transcribed in adulthood.
Thus.
The void.
Where basks the sincerity of companionship,
of the connection of two souls,
felt in the romantic sense?
stomach problems
day one had the stench
of fresh, organic
peaches -
sitting in the heat.
the aching discomfort
sucked.
day two may still have had remnants
of the peaches.
maybe the mints that soothed my mouth
cast battles against
the sanctity of
the easy-feasy daily stat. quo.
day three and four
still had inklings of the nasty feelings -
maybe more peaches. maybe a few day old beans.
but day five had a different ill will.
the empty stomach and
and the triple dosage of caffeine
and parmesan cheese contributed for the physical.
but the sad songs, the yearning for connection,
the hope of the "finally, this time"
with you,
with you again
leaves my stomach the most disturbed,
the most discontent -
from you again,
for the same reasons, again.
I'm sick.
I feel sick.
You.
make me sick.
sleep deprived, worst way to end a good day,
can't fall into slumber
due to disappointment.
avoidance of the next day
when i have to deal with you -
and your mixed messages -
and my illogical decoding -
for a full day.
and another.
accepting hope
meant the barriers were weakened.
this week i saw your eyes.
i saw your happiness.
i saw you vulnerability.
i emerged. i emerged from my shell.
the cheesey, stupid, disgustingly
sentimental
and foolishly hopeful,
charmingly cavalier me
said hello to the world
because i thought you were ready to say
hello back.
finally.
but not.
not. again.
and now i'm sick.
over you.
because of you,
because i can't get over.
you.
WTF?
Is the internet crashing or is there something wrong with my computer or internet connection?
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
floating
*** floating ***
I.
listlessly aimless
drifting in the dreaded
darkness,
the purgatory for the
once hopeful,
for the once unrestrained
pursuit of happiness,
for the once believed
happy ever after
to this common story.
said in jest, the ideal of contentment,
maintain sincerity.
it's difficult to believe
in rays of hope
when the sun shines brightest
on all planets but yours.
or at least, it seems that way
from the audience's side
of life's cinema.
but when asked to confront
the realities of a spirit without its compliment,
without its guidance,
without its motivation
to be something to someone for eternity,
this beat,
this heart,
this man
is substantially
incomplete -
a crossword puzzle
with no clue
or space to fill.
this man,
like the words of the puzzle
eager to make its home
on the paper,
is floating -
listlessly aimless,
drifting on a sea of
dark-directionless-dread.
when once, this man
flowed like his verses,
is now -
incoherent fragments,
so much so that poems speak to him less
than elusive romances do.
II.
but there is one poem. this one.
this current amalgamation of lost thoughts
of being lost in world gone undetectable
by a monochromatic soul.
the dark shades hiding my iris fear
the sight.
she smiles.
dark brown illuminates the eyes,
the dull, dreary gaze diminished
with the polish of her pleasantness,
the zeal of her encouragement
bring shine back allowing clearer vision.
she smiles.
the frozen gray and purple lips,
thaw and feel warm -
and come alive achieving their natural
mixture of brown skin tone and human flesh -
like moth
eagerly wanting to land
on the fiery life force of the thriving flush
of her
living lips.
she smiles.
the dry, arid contours of his cheeks
like the Badlands,
so thirsty for nourishment,
get fed.
moisture replenishes like her lips
were the first rain filling thirsty marshlands
welcoming back the season of life.
she smiles.
melting the hardened clay of a mask
worn on escapades unfinished
and journeys never launched,
the glimmer of possibility,
of an opportune glance returned,
of a deep breath taken and held
hoping that it was aimed at his spirit,
reflects on his newly freed face.
he floats.
he smiles.
- r4 09.16.08
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.
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
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!
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.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Homemade 30th Birthday Wrapping paper for KDilla
The wrapping paper consisted of images that reflect "30"
1. 30 inch rims
2. 30th anniversary apple
3. 30 cats collage
4. 30th anniversary star wars
5. 30th anniversary superman
6. 30 story building
7. 30 watt amp
8. happy 30th birthday sign
9. $20 and $10
10. 30 degrees – heat
11. 30 degrees – angle
12. 30 cent stamp – german (cats)
13. 30 cent stamp – us (ben franklin)
14. Dane Eveland: Current #30 on the A’s
15. 1930 World Series Champions – Philadelphia Athletics
16. 30th anniversary Space Invaders
17. Calvin Coolidge Portrait Photo
18. Wisconsin – Smell the Dairy Air T-shirt Design
19. Pearl Jam Rolling Stones Cover
20. “over 30” mpg GM cars ad
21. Beatles – the White Album record cover
22. Elv1s CD – 30 #1 hits CD
23. Speed Limit 30 Sign
24. 30th Anniversary Cosmic Ray Convention
25. UN 30 Articles - #30
26. 30 Rock
27. 30 Stockton Muni bus picture
28. US Flag with 30 Stars
29. 30th Ave and Grand Station Sign
30. Ken Griffey Jr #30 Cincinnati Reds
Some are a bit more subtle than others.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
10 Years Ago...
10 years ago... any night of the week was laser tag night.
Any night was - "hey, let's go to sleep early so we can go fishing at the butt crack of dawn" night - and we'd end up not sleeping early, but still getting up in time to see the fog roll off the surface of Lake Berryesa, to see the fish jump, and to finish with no bites but enough time to hit up IHOP for breakfast with lots of ketchup and tobasco.
10 years ago... any afternoon was perfectly meant for a painting session.
10 years ago... stats class in the summer was all good because there were at least 2 cute girls in it. And it was easier than the original stats class that I sorta took but definitely failed.
10 years ago... jumping off trees, crawling through high weeds, crawling under trees, crawling on an open field, crawling on anything, climbing apartment buildings, and all that was just the norm - and it wasn't dangerous - not THAT dangerous.
10 years ago... I was pretty much broke, but it was cool. It was easy to have fun with the folks.
10 years ago... I was developing some lifelong friendships that have given me lots of good times and memories.
That was what the weekend camping trip celebrated. Well, sorta celebrated. When Dar mentioned, before they left, that this trip "was planned for something", it really didn't hit me. It me when I got home after driving from San Jose when I re-realized that the camping trip WAS about something. It was about the 10 Year Anniversary of the BEST SUMMER EVER. I mean,I knew that. I planned the darn thing and that was what was at the root of planning it. But as the days went on with planning, and being busy with numerous things like work, life, softball, AIDS Walk, family visiting from the Philippines, partying, beer, and all that stuff, I sort of forgot. The technical part of the weekend became my main concern: having enough food, having enough equipment, making sure who was going and who wasn't, and all that. In them midst of that, I lost sight of the soul of the trip.
It didn't help that our guestlist started to dwindle as life started getting in the way of the fleeting nostalgia. Seeing as how busy everyone is nowadays, this trip really began to feel more like a chore for people to attend than it was something that had organic energy revolving around it. That's not a judgment. That's an observation. Because, as it shows from my list of what 10 Years Ago meant, our lives aren't as carefree and fleeting as they were back then. And that, in no way, is wrong. We're all approaching (or already are at) our early 30s. Less important is the number, but the landmark where our lives are currently steering towards. Yes, 30 nowadays is younger than it was in the past, but being an adult is still the same wonderful mix of evolution and the anchors of responsibilities.
The way the camping trip evolved is a direct reflection of where we're at now versus where we were at back then. Life, for all it's blessings, does get in the way a lot now. And no, again, that's not a judgment or something wrong. It's just what it is - and life, as we should recognize, is beautiful in its developing challenges.
Life nowadays isn't about sneaking into an open field, strapping on beeping sensors, and going buck wild on your friends with infrared guns. It's not about wood-tipped Swishers while fishing illegally (no licenses) and pretty badly (no real strategy). It's not about sitting on a random curb somewhere near midnight with a still-warm light breeze (farm scents in tow) talking about life as we knew it back then.
It's not about the pulls of fleeting-maybe-real romances. Oh wait. Yes it is. At least for me. And I guess there's the divide between myself and many of my best friends - especially the ones that were integral parts of the summer of 1998. (Why do I feel like I'm writing my own version of the introductory narrative of Stand By Me?)
Let me look through the list.. they're all married. The key players. All married. Two have a child. The others probably have some coming soon.
Me? I have a blogger. A burgeoning Made Man on MobWars on Facebook. I desire to play softball with friends whenever I can. Freedom. Except for a small student loan here, and a few bills there - I am free from anything really hefty that folks would call an adult anchor. Am I complaining? No way. I love my freedom.
I love the opportunity for fleeting moments.
But fleeting doesn't last. And that's the point for those types of experiences. I think I'm getting to the end of fleeting moments. And I think that the era of this particular era of my social life is coming to an end. No, I'm not losing my friendships. No, I'm not rushing off to find me a wife. No, that's not what I mean.
I think this summer - maybe starting in May when we went to Hawaii and ending anywhere now and the end of August - has been the transition point. Not sure where I'm headed now - socially. And that, more than anything, has me more frustrated (or lamenting?) than anything else. I have my best friends. And I love them all. They'll still be there. And I'll still be with them as well as the rest of the barrelfolks crew, but the fleeting fun may have run its course... because... well, it just feels that way.
I'm not looking backwards. That's not at all why I'm feeling like this. This weekend's camping trip wasn't about basking in the past. It was about remembering the fun times and realizing how far we've come, as friends, since then. And we really have come far.
Individually, we've evolved so much.
As friends, we've done the same.
Maybe my lamentations are really just deep-rooted happy thoughts oozing out in a conflicted expression. I'm content and happy with where I'm at individually, professionally, socially, and as a member of a social group. I'm so happy for my friends and because of my friends.
Maybe I just don't feel anchored to anyone, in particular, or to anything - other than work. And, while I could say I was anchored to the greatness of our friendships just a few years ago, I can't say that my friends feel the same. And they shouldn't. Not at all. So, maybe I'm just feeling a bit detached. Maybe I'm just feeling unimportant. And a busybody (and pleaser) like me needs to feel important - needs to feel needed.
Maybe I'm just lost. Since I'm free, I have to be lost a bit.
Maybe I just feel lonely, as I'm prone to feel when I'm not feeling suffocated by my own indecision and squirminess.
Geez, Life. What a flippin' journey.
Friday, July 18, 2008
Dear Diary.. Dear Diarya.. Dear Diarrhea
Holy ugly bags under my eyes, Batman! This week's been tiring!
I don't think I've slept earlier than 1:45pm since last Wednesday night/Thursday morning?
th - mission, got home at 2.
fri - dc, got home at 1:45.
sat - got home at 12:30ish. slept at 3.
sun - maybe slept at 1:30.
mon - game, eats, poker. slept at 3. ($30 "richer")
tues - biking, all-star game marathon, slept at 1:45ish.
wed - city, got home at 1:45.
th - city, got home at 1:45.
Thank goodness it's Summer. Well, I wouldn't be doing this if it wasn't summer.
Jen's bday.
My silly games.
Fun. Fun. Fun.
Too much beer.
and fun.
I'm effing tired.
But, in the past few days, with alcohol, deteriorating minds, and maybe a harkien-back to younger, more silly times:
Horatio Hornblower's been transformed to Philatio Hornblower.
Coit Tower or the Tower of Coit has been transformed to Coitus Tower... and has derivatives like: "Show me the pictures of Post Coitus Tower." Meaning.. the pictures taken after passing Coit Tower, geographically.
Prince Charming's a sleaze (but he is also in Fables by Bill Willingham, Vertigo/DC Comics). And, I suggested that Prince Charming's first name be: Bastosbut (because he peeked under Cinderella's dress... and whilst dancing with her, asked her if she was on the pill).
There was a Sin-derella.. or just plain old Cinda-fuckin-rella (Pretty Woman)
The Fairy Godmother asking, "HAH! Who needs a man?!?!" whilst waving her magic "wand".
Wonderful things on the cusp of people's 30th birthdays.
So lovely.
So, so lovely.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Day with Katie... AND.. Campfire Storytelling - Silent Movie Style
