the tide is high 

i've chosen this time and this day to say "good bye" to this blog. so, good bye. for those who've read this over the years (enter smattering chirp of crickets), thanks for caring, or for serendipitously stumbling upon this site.


the dirt 

with odoggg's help, i've been able to wipe out years of LA soot from around the house. now, i'm getting into tinkering around the house and rearranging things here and there. my landlord better watch out. he may really need to carry my cold, dead, body out before he can jack up the rent. but, perhaps he's already working on that.

if the authorities come around sniffing for clues... you read it here first.



i threw my back out 

and this is what i can contribute to the blogosphere:

Your #1 Match: INFP

The Idealist

You are creative with a great imagination, living in your own inner world.
Open minded and accepting, you strive for harmony in your important relationships.
It takes a long time for people to get to know you. You are hesitant to let people get close.
But once you care for someone, you do everything you can to help them grow and develop.

You would make an excellent writer, psychologist, or artist.

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obvious from the obvious 

"what is that?"

"a toilet paper holder." not the kind you hang on a wall; this was some "modern" thingamajig made of zig zag lines reaching (with toilet paper rolls) for the sky.

"good invention."

i give a half-assed acknowledgment smirk to his comment. meanwhile, i'm creeped out because he keeps following me through the aisles of the store.

later at the check-out counter:

"oh, you got some bathroom stuff."

"yeah." i'm pretty sparse with words when it comes to responding to comments of the obvious from the obvious creepy person tailing me throughout the store. i conveniently pull out my phone and listen to all-ready-listened-to-messages. i think of how the toilet paper holder can easily be re-purposed for self-defense. then, i make an exit.



turn me off 

i don't know why i'm always drawn to seemingly "off" personalities, but they always fascinate me. i hope it's not because i, too, am "off." well, hell. if i'm off... at least it could be a turn on for someone like me with the same fascination in some way.

for the last two weeks in my writing class, there's been a cartoonish drawing on one of the chalkboards (see my rendition of exhibit A) of a mustachioed man (who oddly looks like a well-kempt einstein) smoking a cigarette with a speech bubble coming out of his mouth saying, "Make me young!" well, tonight out of nowhere, this one classmate of mine who i also had in class last semester, entered the room and--without provocation--went up to the chalkboard and erased the "make me young" speech bubble. i had only seen him do this from the corner of my eye, so i had to turn to my other classmate and ask her what he just erased:

"what did it say?" i asked.

"it just said, 'make me young.'"

i immediately dropped my head down and started laughing. what was the motivation for this?! when he erased it, i remember hearing a "tsk!" of disgust, as if he had just "had enough." enough of what? i started to wonder what electrical connections were being made in his brain. what did those words trigger in him? coming from him, his behavior tonight struck me as a continuation of other idiosyncratic behavior i had seen before. last semester, whenever he would present his story ideas, he was always a bit too prematurely belligerent. one could just be asking him for the time and he would scoff at you like you were some scrub trying to mooch off his leftovers or the last person to insist on squeezing into an overstuffed elevator. i found it such a treat to watch him present. it was like watching a time bomb.

then i started worrying.

as class progressed, another classmate went before everyone to present his story idea. simply put, it was about a priest who's brother and nephew are killed in a hit and run accident. this forces the priest to doubt his faith, and in doing so, he gives bad advice during confessionals. i chuckled when i heard his quick synopsis. however, when he finished telling the entire story--a story that ends with two of the priest's parishioners involved in a murder-suicide where one guy has half his brain blown off--i thought, "what the hell was wrong with me? was i the only one who initially thought this was going to be a comedy? what the hell was firing in my brain? but, maybe... that's just it... there's comedy in everything... even in the most tragic or the most banal situation.

ha ha ha...



i need shades for the winter olympics 

reihan salam really struck a chord with me as i waste a few precious hours a day getting lost in the human drama of athletic competition for the 2006 torino winter olympics. already, the comments to his article have solicited responses from white readers that show that they just don't get it when it comes to racial politics from a person of color perspective. but then again, should i ever have high expectations for that? one reader wonders why reihan would feel a kinship for a latino pugilist at the "multi culti summer olympics" in atlanta, or for the jamaican bobsled team from those winter olympics years ago. why? well, i for one, growing up would practically drool whenever i saw people of color on TV, because it was such a rarity. i didn't care what ethnicity/race they were. i was missing me some melanin. as for the jamaican bobsled team... now really... does "derek" from his upper middle-class connecticut family really need my support as he tests his wits on the giant slalom? or, should i root for fellow third worlders who had to brave a colonial hijacked economy in their home country, in order for them to even overcome the hardship of just getting a plane ticket to the olympics? i think i'll go root for the roots from jamaica. in other words...the winter olympics are still so white... i gotta wear shades.



don't speak ill of the dead... 

but the verdict is out. i prefer frank mill's version of "music box dancer" much better than liberace's. i don't care for the sped up tempo of liberace's version. it doesn't throw me back 25 years into childish giddiness like the former's version.

that song used to drive me crazy when i was little.

well... i'm still crazy. thanks, frank.