random acts of blog
"The Things We Think, But Do Not Say"
Saturday, August 31, 2002 ::: compassion
The following was in an email my brother sent me. He didn't write it, nor do I know if it's true. But it has one of my favorite quotes at the bottom, so here goes:
"Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living. When I arrived at 2:30 a.m., the building was dark except for a single light in a ground floor window.
Under these circumstances, many drivers would just honk once or twice, wait a minute, then drive away.
But, I had seen too many impoverished people who depended on taxis as their only means of transportation. Unless a situation smelled of danger, I always went to the door. This passenger might be someone who needs my assistance, I reasoned to myself.
So I walked to the door and knocked. "Just a minute", answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.
After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 80's stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940s movie. By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets. There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.
Would you carry my bag out to the car?" she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman. She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb. She kept thanking me for my kindness.
"It's nothing", I told her. "I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother treated". "Oh, you're such a good boy", she said.
When we got in the cab, she gave me an address, then asked, "Could you drive through downtown?" "It's not the shortest way," I answered quickly. "Oh, I don't mind," she said. "I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice".
I looked in the rearview mirror. Her eyes were glistening with tears. "I don't have any family left," she continued. "The doctor says I don't have very long." I quietly reached over and shut off the meter. "What route would you like me to take?" I asked.
For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator. We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl. Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.
As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, "I'm tired. Let's go now."
We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico. Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up.
They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her. I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair. "How much do I owe you?" she asked, reaching into her purse.
"Nothing," I said.
"You have to make a living," she answered. "There are other passengers," I responded. Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly.
"You gave an old woman a little moment of joy," she said. "Thank you."
I squeezed her hand, then walked into the dim morning light. Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life. I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly, lost in thought. For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk.
What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?
On a quick review, I don't think that I have done anything more important in my life. We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments. But great moments often catch us unaware--beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.
PEOPLE MAY NOT REMEMBER EXACTLY WHAT YOU DID, OR WHAT YOU SAID,
~ BUT ~
THEY WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER HOW YOU MADE THEM FEEL."
Seems like lately I'm being asked more and more where the whole "sugar cookie" thing came from. Let's see...
The sugar part is pretty simple. Not that I'm one of those sHuGaHsWeEtPnAi type of girls, although some are friends of mine. But "awhh you're so sweet!" is a common phrase i get, so hey, might as well represent right?
The cookie has a double meaning. If you've ever seen Men of Honor (great movie!!) with Cuba Gooding, Jr. and Tommy Lee Jones, Cuba's character is referred to as "Cookie" because he started out as a cook in the Navy mess hall. He later became the first minority Master Diver. I'd like to believe that I'm a pretty damn good cook, so maybe if I take the same name...I'll end up working in the Navy mess hall!! (SO kidding.) Or at the restaurant whose name has yet to be copywrited. (eek)
Plus, my Bowlapalooza name is Cookie. It just kinda stuck. Hey Cherry-pop, we gotta have another one soon, girl!! Maybe for my birthday again?
Sorry, readers, I needed to vent just then. Despite what the blog represents, things are going pretty well right now. Just busy.
Not to be crass, but the current stage of my job search is like...blue balls. A tease. Everyone's got a "great lead" and evervyone "can't wait for this paperwork to go through so that we can start working together." Uh huh, yeah. And I have to stay home and wash my hair tonight. You try to take matters into your own hands with a follow up call, and you hear the schpeel about "we'll call you." *sigh*
I'm *happy* because my dear sweet Lexi (old school readers will remember my blog about her) is coming to see me next weekend!! YAY!! We're going to take STREET SCENE by storm, baby, YEAH! She's bringing a Mango with her, King Derrick to be exact. It'll be nice to have a breeze coming in from the Bay. :-) Blog to follow. ;-)
What on earth am I gonna do today? Laundry would be good...I guess. Hee hee.
People who do not listen to what I say and instead craft it into what the THINK they heard. Or they did hear what I said, except they still expect things to remain the same even though THEY changed the details on THEIR END?
How can I do a publicity trade with someone if they're giving me nothing?
How can I trade someone a press/information table when we're not going to be at any of their events this year? That leads me to believe that they want me to GIVE them one of my tables for FREE. Uhhm....how bout...NO.
Errrr...
Also, if we're not friends, if we're doing business, don't send me emails with big bold colored font like Arial 14. I can read, asshole.
And don't name drop someone who you might remotely suspect as someone that could badmouth you and your shady ways. Guess what - HE DID.
Have your desk cleared out by the end of the hour please. Thank you. And while you're at it, QUIT CALLING MY CEL PHONE.
Friday, August 30, 2002 ::: *&^%$#@! TELEMARKETERS
Is it LEGAL for them to call me at 7:10 AM????????????????
I suppose I should be happy because this one spoke slower and repeated herself often. It was this this that allowed me to realize that the first guy (who spoke 3 times as fast), was so FUBAR in terms of what he told me.
What started out as $3.39 for 48 months, consolidated into 12 (which is like $12), became $58 a month for 12 months. WTF?! SQUASH THAT PLEASE! Jigga what?
Ironically, they never get the credit card number wrong. But they managed to believe that "single" means "put me down as married so we can ask for your husband's name tomorrow." I shoulda just said "Mark Vincent. But did you want his stage name? Vin Diesel. Oops no, sorry did you want my first husband's name? Ben Affleck?"
Shiiiiieeeeet.
So now here I am, blogging way too early on an unusually cold morning. (Well actually, I originally posted this at 7:30 but got a flippin' server error.)
Cold feet, wearing a sweater for the first morning in MONTHS.
woke up on the other side today. that was weird. i can't even remember doing that...ever. (ever since it became the other side.) and not just my head or something but i was fully on the other side. that was nice. good sign.
some days, someone else's words are just plain better.
the following is an oldie but very goodie...
I am sitting here wanting memories to teach me
To see the beauty in the world through my own eyes
I am sitting here wanting memories to teach me
To see the beauty in the world through my own eyes
You used to rock me in the cradle of your arms
You used to hold me til the pains of life were gone
You said you’d comfort me in times like these
And now I need you
Now I need you…….and you are gone
I am sitting here wanting memories to teach me
To see the beauty in the world through my own eyes
Since you've gone and left me, there's been so little beauty
But I know I saw it clearly through your own eyes.
Now the world outside is such a cold and bitter place
Here inside I have few things that will console
And when I try to hear your voice above the storms of life
Then I remember……all the things that I was told
I am sitting here wanting memories to teach me
To see the beauty in the world through my own eyes
I am sitting here wanting memories to teach me
To see the beauty in the world through my own eyes
I know a “please” and “thank-you” and a smile will take me far
I know that I am you and you are me and we are one
I know that who I am is numbered in each grain of sand
I know that I’ve been blessed……again, and over again
I am sitting here wanting memories to teach me
To see the beauty in the world through my own eyes
I am sitting here wanting memories to teach me
To see the beauty in the world through my own eyes
"Wanting Memories" written by Ysaye Maria Barnwell, Sweet Honey In The Rock
I can't even find the words right now to do this song justice. I'll have to borrow someone else's:
"In a song such as Wanting Memories (which, if you listened to it for an eternity you'd still want to hear more), the sentiment expressed is about a world in which we dream of what should be rather than what is. It is the song of a daughter reflecting on the death of her father and "wanting memories to teach me to see the beauty of the world through my own eyes". Written by long-time member Ysaye Maria Barnwell, it is so deeply infused with emotion that it is quite impossible not to be swept away by its power."
from this article.
I took another one of those quizzes again, this time the question was "What Pulp Fiction Character Are You?"
I got Esmerelda the cab driver (after Butch/Bruce Willis escapes the boxing match). The photo link is all whack but here's the "verdict":
You're a hardworking individual enshrouded by an overwhelming sense of mystery, beauty, and intrigue. Though always on the go, you keep focused, helping - often rapturing - those you meet.
I'll buy that. (Wondering when she ever "raptured" someone...)
If I were a guy, the quiz concludes I'd be Marsellis Wallace. "You ain't got no problems. I'm on the muthaf*cker." Dunno how I feel about that, considering what happened to him towards the end of the film. *shudders* I was kinda expecting to get The Wolf, since he can be a real smart ass that you don't wanna mess with. He's an operator. Yet he's a classy guy. Nice car, nice tux.
What the hell, 2:42 AM already?! And why the hell do I keep hearing the upstairs neighbors opening and closing the closet doors?! (Feeling of guilt sinks in as she realizes she put the old downstairs neighbors through that same question.)
Thursday, August 22, 2002 ::: "Here's where the story ends."
Ok so the check arrived today. The student loan Powers That Be have been pacified.
The Verizon screening is going to the next level.
Hell has frozen over. Pigs can fly. The Turtle has a girlfriend. (Michelle Branch knows way too much about my life.) "Goodbye To You." [Gentle readers, please let this lie. This is simply a declaration of the facts.]
Got a phone number at the bus stop, too. That was fun. Life is interesting...
What a sorry SOB. Let's just say, karma is going to get him hardcore. (Sentencing is the next step.) And let's be thankful he didn't have a Dream Team like O.J.
I hope that the Van Dam family will be able to feel some level of comfort now.
Jenny said I have freckles in my hair. *People's Eyebrow*
My new upstairs neighbors have heavy feet.
I think that the State of California's Employment Development Department is out to get me. They keep messing with my benefit checks on purpose, I think. WTF?! I'm following their rules but the system is turning against me. Maybe this is their way of trying to get me out of the system, since I've been filing claims since March. (Although I've been jacked on claims a few times.) I think a revolution is in order! *rubs hands together*
I know I've said it before and I'm sorry to say I'll say it again...if I don't get a job soon I'm going to go postal. Or worse...I'll start working 3 jobs at $5 an hour so I can make the money I need to get on with my life. I'm thankful for the roof over my head and the food in the fridge, partially subsidized by the roomies. But when you mess with a woman's independance...that's a dangerous thing.
On the way home this afternoon I passed a P.E. class playing in the park on 70th street. The kids, I'm guessing age 5-7, were each throwing a ball up in the air as high as they could and (trying to) catch it. I caught a glance at one in particular, who used all of his strength to launch that ball in the air, and threw his head back up at the sky while he waited for the chance to catch it in his arms. It gave me a funny feeling inside to see that for some reason. I'll have to revist this.
I was raised in a Filipino household that just happened to be in America, and with my parents working so much, she became the Lady of the House so to speak. Ruling over things with my brother. She did the bookkeeping, ran errands for my parents and kept my ass in check. She was my second mom. Made sure I did my homework and knew my place in the household. (At the bottom of the food chain.) She was there to yell at me when my grades slipped, and my shoulder to cry on when my so-called friends at school were making life difficult for me. She helped me get my first job, and even now is the one I turn to for professional advice.
I thank God and every other Higher Power that saved her life on 9/11/01. She was so close...yet didn't end up at the WTC that fateful morning.
I know that many people have heard enough of things related to that day, but I think for my own sake I need to blog this one out. Especially because she lived to have another birthday when many did not. If one day she ever finds this site, it'll be another reminder of how much I care. It is something that she doesn't like to talk about, for understandable reasons. But from the calamity our relationship was strengthened, and that of the entire family as well. And from that angle I am forever grateful for having our eyes opened.
During that time, I was still working at ASH. I woke up in the middle of the night feeling not very good at all...around 5:30am. But knowing that I had a long day ahead at the office, I forced myself back to sleep. Didn't work. Felt compelled to turn on the TV, which until that day was something I never did in the morning. I had the TV on MTV or something, where there was no news yet. Then my cel phone rings. It was James. He said "Dood turn on your TV, there's a plane that crashed into the WTC." I turn to Channel 10 (ABC) and there's the North Tower on fire. Then, right in front of me, I see the second plane crash into the South Tower. As James and I are piecing together what the hell is going on, I hear the echo of my mother's voice saying "Your sister is going back to New York again." At that moment I felt a panic that haunts me even now, because I didn't know if she was there that day, and if so, where in Manhattan she was supposed to be.
"Holy shiet. I gotta call you back. My sister is there." *click*
I called my Dad, and when he picked up the phone, I couldn't tell if he'd been sleeping or the tone in his voice was from distress.
[me] "Where is she??"
[Dad] "Who?"
[me] "Anna. Is she there? In New York? Are you watching the news? Have you talked to her?!"
[Dad] "Yes she's there. We haven't heard from her yet."
[me] "Oh God. Oh dear God. THE MINUTE YOU HEAR FROM HER PLEASE CALL ME."
[Dad] "Okay...bye."
I hung up the phone and just sat on the bed with the TV going...white noise. Staring into space. I lost it. I started to pray and weep at the same time. My mind raced to whatever conversation we had the last time I talked to her. Trying to remember anything that would make me believe that she was nowhere near there and ok. And then came that whole montage of images and voices of everything that was our relationship, with the fear that there would be no new chapters to add to this story.
[I had enough sense to call the office at that moment. There was no way in hell that I could manage to work, and I knew it. Kristin (Jaggard, who I miss dearly now that she's retired) was the only one there that early, and she advised that in light of what was happening, the office would probably be shut down anyway...but call back in a few hours. And yes, people who did go in to work were eventually sent home.]
I didn't hear any news for HOURS. Between 6am - about 1pm I was just unable to function. I had the TV going and was constantly surfing the internet for any new information. I was glued to that screen, I tell you. During those hours, watching everything that was going on and those horrific replays, not knowing what had happened to her...that was the worst for me. I couldn't imagine if she was afraid or if she was alone or if she was in pain or WTF-ever. No answer on the cel phone, and text messages were futile. Whatever cel sites there were in the area were probably jammed to hell and back with emergency calls.
This was one of those times where I really wanted to be home. I was scared to call my mom because I didn't want to lose it in front of her. She's much more emotional than I am and I didn't want to provoke her.
While I'd always known, and had learned through other experiences the power behind the "Around The Corner (I have a friend....)" poem, it meant the world to me -- a new world if I was allowed to have it -- that day. I prayed with every living part of me that she would be spared and make it home safely. Mercifully, my mom called and told me that my sister had called, saying that she was being kept at her hotel (The Plaza) and the place had been secured. She was unharmed. I was so grateful, but at that time the big question was "Is it over?"
We exchanged text messages and eventually IMs over the next several days. I was not doing well during that time, concentrating on anything other than the news was difficult. We kept shutting down the office in response to threats and warnings being received, which was even worse. Finally, more than 2 weeks after the incident, the day came where my sister and some of her co-workers were going to drive to Philadelphia and catch a flight back to SFO. I was terrified of the idea of her flying again, I couldn't help it.
I remember actually calling her on her cel phone when she told me she was going home that day. I went into an empty office, shut the door and asked her to tell me every detail of her itinerary so I could trace her back. And, for the first time in as long as I can remember, I let my voice crack while talking to her. I said, "Just please come home now. Come home safely." I started to cry, I couldn't hold it in anymore. I was tired of acting strong and didn't care that I hadn't shown any emotion towards her in God knows how long. I thought to myself, I only get one sister, please God don't take her away from me. Regardless of our many many MANY feuds (including one that kept me from speaking more than absolutely necessary for like a year), she was my rock. She used her head as often as I use my heart. She may not know all my secrets, but she still knew me better than anyone. I knew in my heart that she would never ever forsake me. For a blink I was ashamed of myself for some reason for crying. Just a blink. After a pause, in her (famous) calm, matter-of-fact way, she said, "I'll be fine. Don't worry about me."
She sent text messages to me at different points in her trip. "Leaving Manhattan finally." "I'm in Philly now." "We're getting ready to take off soon." "We've landed."
That Christmas was the best. I took a ton of pictures of her, and of everyone. It was like the old days where everyone got together at the Liberty Ct. house (SSF)...big Christmas tree in that living room that no one goes into. Tons of food and people and presents. Everything seemed so much MORE that year. Colors seemed brighter, music louder, food was better, jokes were funnier, presents were amazing. Seeing my dad and my sister talking was priceless. They hadn't really done that in years. My brother was around...another miracle.
So anyway to wrap up (I think this is my longest blog ever), I will say this...she can be very difficult at times because she's a Leo and has to have things her way. Even if she compromises, you'll be sure to feel that she allowed the compromise (LOL). She is this crazy workaholic career woman but she's also great with children. She has a love for Tar-zhay that I think is unmatched by anyone I know. She taught me to love modern rock and how to act like a lady. She may be anal and some can find her bitchy/intimidating, she has this ability to open her heart in ways that many people never could. She has a laugh that you can hear from a mile away, and at its best it's contagious. At its worst, you want to throw something at her. She has this *&^%$# habit of not having anything to say to me until I'm on the phone...THEN she decides to try and have a conversation with me. (WTF?!) (It the funniest, most frustrating thing!) She and I have this funny sort of language/slang that we still use, and I can't imagine sharing with anyone else. Our pictures as small children, put side by side, look almost exactly the same. Etc. ...
...for better or for worse, we were chosen to be sisters. And for better or for worse, I love her.
Monday, August 19, 2002 ::: another reason why John Mayer is the man.
The following is taken from a live show, his intro to "Your Body Is A Wonderland". He's talking about how he could improve the song by starting it out like an old Bobby Brown song...with the phone call intro...
"Yo baby what's up girl
Yknow i was thinking i come over
And we take our relationship to the next level
And in the morning...girl....
I'm gonna pour you a bowl of Count Chocula
And i'm gonna take out some of the oat pieces out
So it tastes like there's more marshmallow
Cuz that's how much i care about you girl!
Girl..i would change up the marshmallow to oat ratio for you..."
This is what all women should look for in a man. Someone that understands the relationship between love and cereal. [hehe]
The past 24 hours ended on a pretty good note...after a good helping of challenging situations. Explanations will follow, but now it is off to bed. :-)
Saturday, August 17, 2002 ::: Another schizophrenic episode of Winamp...
Timberland and Magoo - "Luv 2 Luv U"
Nine Days - "Nine Days (Story of Girl)"
Boyz II Men - "Color of Love"
Prodigy - "Firestarter (instrumental)"
Fatboy Slim - "Right Here, Right Now"
Simple Minds - "Don't You (Forget About Me)"
The Police - "Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic"
Van Morrison - "Brown Eyed Girl"
Ariel Rivera - "Photograph"
Iio - "Rapture"
Redman - "Let's Get Dirty"
Jocelyn Enriquez - "Even If (Freestyle Mix)"
Earth Wind and Fire - "Shining Star"
Sergio Mendes and Brazil '66 - "Mais Que Nada"
Sergio Mendes and Brazil '66 - "Look of Love"
Coco Lee - "The Best Love"
OK, not that I'm a complete masochist, but I'd love feedback about this b-spot from the wide world...(although if it's about the Foolish/Red Red Wine blog, please handle with care...)
Ironically, people are more inclined to go the Hot or Not route (see left-hand side of the screen) as opposed to the Blog Hop route (see above top left-hand corner with the different emoticon/smiley things). Thanks to my friends who have supported this and given their honest opinions. :-)
This is for you as well as me. Although I think that some are a little...distanced and scurred by my candor/bluntness, and others suffer from ADD attacks due to my lack of photos and cool HTML. But either way, this is my way of combining therapy with art/expression/entertainment.
Turtle is under attack! Little chickens are throwing evol four letter words. Will he survive?
Red Red Wine
The Turtle stood me up again for the 2nd day in a row. So being that it was Friday night, I decided to take matters into my own hands, and watch the TBS double feature (Sleepless In Seattle and The Breakfast Club) with my last bottle of Western Cape Reserve Cabernet. Yes, Earth, the one that is hella smooth and got you extremely faded at the last party. Sorry it's all gone. Don't freak out, the Roomie had some too. Anyhoo...
At almost 11, the Turtle goes online and tells me he's going to call me. Not to apologize, but to explain that he's having a dilemma between two girls. Great. He went so far as to ask what I was doing and why I was drinking my best wine, and then asked if I could give him advice on his problem. I said I would love to, except I was still pretty hurt and annoyed that he managed to dis me two nights in a row with no remorse. Then he says "there's a call on other line, I'd better go." "Great." *click* by me.
A few more glasses and several hours later, I've fallen asleep...and sometime after I'm jolted awake by the house phone ringing. (Note to self: turn the volume down on the ringer.) I have no clue what time it is since I didn't set my clocks yet. But it's him again, wanting to talk. Since my heart is pounding because I'm that whole startled-awake, I knew that going back to sleep was a pointless effort.
I have no idea how long this conversation lasted, but I know that it ended at 2:34 am. (According to the computer clock that I checked as I sat here.) I can't recount everything that was said, but I remember saying out loud that I said too much. Although he claims that it was stuff he already knew. Right.
Yesterday I was asked if I still had feelings. (Note: not by Turtle.) The thing of it is, I will always have "feelings." L*ve is evol that way. The difference between then and now is learning to transform them into something else that you can live with as an adult. And what's even better, I'm finally at a point where I've been able to open up to people, which is a big deal to me. "It's Been A While." [Staind] "you live, You Learn." [Alanis Morrisette] "A New Day Has Come." [Celine Dion] "That's The Way It Is." [Celine Dion again, don't ask.] "Back To Life, back to reality." [Soul 2 Soul]
[OMG, wait til I tell the Pumpkin this story later on today. If I can remember it that is.]
I explained to him why he's the Turtle. How he makes himself a walking contradiction by the things he says and does to those around him. How all of his clever lines and sweet gestures and confidence have become second nature without him realizing it, which is a big factor in his current problem. I said a great deal of things, and for once he seemed to listen. Oh gracious.
I saw the last 3 years of my life flash before my eyes.
I told him that if it strikes him inside to do so, he should finally, once and for all, bite the bullet and open his heart. Stop being a chicken shit.
As Louis Armstrong once said, ``There's some folks, that, if they don't know, you can't tell 'em.''
More conversation occurs after this. Eventually it ends. And me and my second wind sit here now, perhaps blogging too much but hey I'm on a roll in the TMI department. Maybe I'll dump this post someday and maybe I'll leave it up forever. Who knows?
This is dedicated to those who have been there for me when this situation had me totally twisted. To my dear friends who accepted him even though they thought he was a terrible choice, but knew that I saw good in him. To my shining stars who loved me enough to know when to give me advice and when to let me learn my own lesson. To my most patient of friends that actually listened to me work this out, and who now tell me how far I've come. I LOVE you guys more than you'll ever know.
if you notice that whatever you're blogging is getting longer than you thought, copy and paste it into another document and finish it there. because you don't want that feeling of AAAAH when you click post and your IE crashes.
shhhiiiiieeeeet.
it's like when you're in the middle of a heart to heart conversation and your phone dies. by the time you get reconnected you practically want to squash the whole thing. *sigh*
Damn, if you haven't seen the new Linkin Park video for "Pts. of Authority" [a remix of Hybrid Theory's "Points of Authority"]...you're missing out!! It's this super dope fresh (original??) anime clip tied to one of their best songs.
I guess with their latest album being called Reanimation, they're gonna have a bunch of videos lookin like Robotech and shiz. Not that I'm complaining! Wouldn't it be great to be watching MTV and all of a sudden you see Rick Hunter?
my Asian Ave page, which I rarely visit anymore thanks to my crackhead blogging habits, broke 1000 hits sometime today. woo hoo!
ironically, i only have 4 guestbook entries and rarely any notes.
i'm willing to bet that this is because i have no pictures on that page.
yknow, i knew there were a lot of AA-type pages out there...the whole community/meat market/journal-like Asian American genre...but man there's way more than i originally thought!
think about it...there's AA (OG with a crappy server and bad java scripts), AsianConneXions (which recently went defunct due to "high hosting fees" or something), Click2Asia, MeSoAsian (seriously!! LOL), FindAPix (seemingly tailor made for the under 21), Mixture (great over 21 crowd and an almost scary number of people i know or have less than Six Degrees of Separation with), Blogger (gotta plug!), Xanga (feels like the AOL of blog sites/servers), and many more. Each of them have links to OTHER sites that are similar or related.
meanwhile, i'm trying to compensate for the fact that i have no tag board or comment script on my b-spot (can you believe that YACCS pulled its availability to new signups AGAIN?!!?!) so I added the BlogHop ratings code and the HOT or NOT code. naturally, i had to get things started and gave myself a "Loved it!" and 10 rating. hey c'mon, if you run for President you can vote for yourself, right? same concept! *wink*
Saw the latest and greatest Margaret Cho concert film tonight. HILARIOUS!! Laughed so hard I was in tears. Almost forgot how it felt to laugh that much.
If you haven't heard of her, I will relieve you from whatever rock you were hiding under and give you the skinny...
She's the first (successful) Asian American female in stand-up comedy. She's infamous (and "notorious") for doing bits on her Korean mother, on growing up surrounded by the San Francisco gay community, et al, and most especially for her BIG ASS MOUTH!! She will talk about anyone and anything, any time and any place. She says the things that most people think about and don't say. I know people who don't like her for this. Their opinion, and their loss I think.
An interesting example from the film goes something like this (gahd there are so many to choose from!)...if you don't want a "spoiler" then scroll on...
Right off the bat, she starts making small talk and it starts moving towards the Sept. 11th attack...then she says that she was in New York City, and she was "at ground zero day after day after day....giving blow jobs to rescue workers....*pause*.....And you really learn a lot about yourself in a time like this. And I learned that I had conquered my gag reflex."
See what I mean? And that was only the first of many great jokes. I won't even get into the cartoon they showed in the intro. Actually I will save my breath and just say GO SEE THE MOVIE if it's playing in your area. And if it isn't, keep an eye out on Amazon for the DVD release.
From what the world would be like if men had periods, to S&M and sexuality...I think that anyone with a sense of humor and a strong stomach would get a good laugh out of it. I just wish that I had been able to see it live!!
I met Margaret very briefly 2 years ago, at the first San Diego Asian Film Festival. She had her own little reception/performance/panel that day, to help promote I'm The One That I Want, but I couldn't go because I was assigned as a PA to some woman I'd never heard of named Karyn Kusama.
Apparantly Karyn had completed a film about a female boxer called Girlfight that was all the rage at Cannes and Sundance. So part of me was pretty bummed that I had to be this woman's gopher while everyone else got to laugh at Margaret's jokes. I saw Margaret in the hall and said hello and some other b.s. and that was it. Karyn was going to introduce Girlfight right after Margaret's time slot and wanted to be alone to rest and stuff. I had overheard that her agent had specific requests for Karyn to have her own green room and all this jazz, so I had no idea if I was getting a diva or what. I had been assigned to her primarily because they figured I could handle whatever she had to dish out.
To my surprise, and I will forever regret judging the situation the way I had initially, I came to realize that KARYN KUSAMA ROCKS! What had been perceived as a diva complex was more like shyness and perhaps even anxiety, but more than anything a sort of insular feeling. She didn't want to have to play up to the various Hollywood and NY celebs that had come out to our festival that year, she just wanted some peace and quiet. After a few nervous (for me) minutes of silence, I ventured into a discussion with her about the film, her influences and how she got started with writing and directing, her feelings about the press that she and her film were getting...and I feel forever lucky to have been in that position. She even posed some questions for me about myself, my artistic interests and my goals.
I remember feeling silly at the time, but before she left I asked her to autograph my badge that year. I found it during the move last weekend and was like "awh" :-). I had more than just a celebrity sighting. I shared a great conversation with an Asian American female artist.
Girlfight is a great film. Go rent it, go buy it, just watch it. Hell, I bought the DVD primarily because I wanted Karyn to get some royalties out of me.
And here's some trivia: that was the first film that Michelle Rodriguez (think Fast and the Furious or Blue Crush) had ever made. She'd never even acted before! But man, her other movies are fluff compared to the first one.
Don't get me wrong, I say that having her 2nd role be as Vin Diesel's girlfriend is pretty fucking cool!!!!! Shiiiiieeeeeet.
This might come out garbled, but i need to work this one out. It will probably only make sense to 3 people, max. Anyway here goes.
Push and pull. Pull and push.
If Anon is bringing me smiles and butterflies for breakfast every day, why does it matter that the Turtle has a new guardian angel? One should balance out the other.
Why was i never able to close the door? Or so it seems, otherwise this blog wouldn't exist.
How can i break the curse? There is but one way. Yet I'm lame and can't find a way to do it. To simply slam that door shut.
Earth says these are the thoughts of anyone but me, typically. And deep down I know he's right. He also theorizes that my unsolicited change of lifestyle contributes to these uncharacteristic thoughts. Also pretty valid.
...paging the love doctor...please dial extension 1018...thank you...
i found this amongst the files. not sure when i wrote this, sometime in the last year. i think i left it unfinished because the story is also unfinished. figured i'd post it so i don't lose it.
just like me...a work in progress.
have we met before?
eyes that have seen life in its many colors;
two lips drop their guard to reveal a sparkling smile.
behind them is a strong yet soft voice and a laugh as inviting as a warm embrace.
skin is soft yet reassuring in its imperfection;
the rough spots serve as a reminder that certain details of life can be let go.
so last night/this morning, i said that there were two dilemmas...
a have a friend that is...a little different than most people. he's lived a life with a lot of ups and downs, and lived through things that most people only read about or see on TV. the past year or so he's really come a long way to making his life work for him...good job, been seeing a nice girl, cleaned up his act for the most part...he and the girl decided to find a house together, which is a bonus for his two (hellasupaflycool) daughters.
anyway, to make a long story shorter and to spare him, she wigged out and initiated an argument that made a mountain out of a molehill...she tells everyone her side of the story, including her family, friends, coworkers and cops.
yet by the grace of God, he wants to reconcile with her. even though he did nothing wrong.
i can see his thought pattern on this one. he's thinking of his job/income/his home/and above all, his children. he needs to keep the home, maintain the job, and keep things good with the kids. and there's that part of him that believes that she's still The One deep down.
so he calls me and asks for my input and advice about the letter he's going to give her. for an hour we're going over drafts, and i can hear in his voice how much he cares and that he wants to just get through this and everything. and meanwhile i'm sitting here wanting to kill her for being so...argh. i hope that everything works out for him.
stumbled upon junglista's blog as i logged in today. it was on the list of "newly updated" on the blogger main page, entitled "how to talk dirty and influence people." i think he's a good blogger.
i thought today's thought was timely, so here it is:
"It still amazes me how one single person can have the power to suck the air from your chest and make your stomach feel like it's full of butterflies on meth and just having that person's mere presence can completely change your whole life in a matter of minutes.
And then you remember that you can't and you shouldn't act upon all of this and your heart is rebroken once again." --junglista
[the apt upstairs is officially empty and clean. in 8 hours we're giving the keys back.]
i disappointed a friend today. the only saving grace is that she lives on the east coast and i only have to imagine the disappointed look she must have on her face. not very happy about it because it was unintentional, but it happened regardless and that's all i'm going to say about that.
in the true spirit of karma, a different friend disappointed me earlier. and that's all i'm going to say about that.
***the "dilemma" that was previously posted here has been solved. yay! rather than leave the story here for posterity i'm taking it out.***
Saturday, August 10, 2002 ::: childish moment, followed by a strange metaphor
i know that it's childish, but i shall revel in this moment anyway. i apologize in advance to the blog-readers out there for this embarassing shift of character.
now that he has a social life again, he doesn't need me anymore. there are resurfaced friends and potential FTFs to fill up his calendar. i'm now an afterthought, a charity case because he knows i can still use his help for things. person to call when there's no one else to call. a sidekick when the other girls are at work or on other dates. a person to test run new movies and books with so he can amaze her with his wit and intelligence. anger and irritation come more quickly. impatience, probably thinking that his time could be better spent pursuing new...pursuits.
i've become obsolete.
actually no, that implies that i've done nothing to upgrade on my end. it's more like...a macintosh. even the newest ones, no matter how nice they get and new features and all...PCs are still faster, easier to find, and more in demand over all.
[james] sent me a forwarded email yesterday, which begins as an essay of how life in the Philippines used to be many years ago (good gracious, it was P7 to a dollar back then!). It then compares yesterday and today, the sense of pride and awareness that is seemingly lost in the current society. At the end, it is signed "Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo", who happens to be the current President of the Philippines. For those who have never heard of her, here's a nibble from her biography:
The President, born in April 5, 1947, is the daughter of the late President Diosdado Macapagal, a descendant of Lakandula and fondly known as the "poor boy from Lubao" in the province of Pampanga; and Dr. Evangelina Macaraeg-Macapagal of Binalonan, Pangasinan, who were well known for their integrity and simple but dignified lifestyle. During the Presidency of Diosdado Macapagal, the Philippines was second only to Japan in economic progress in Asia.
(She did exceptionally well in school, even spending two years at Georgetown the same time Bill Clinton was there (was this meant to be a claim to fame?). Graduated top of her class, honors, yadda yadda, has all kinds of degrees.)
Seeing as I'm no longer a resident or a citizen of the Philippines, why does any of this matter to me? I'm not 100% certain. But I found it interesting that an email is being circulated with her name at the bottom. I mean, c'mon, I used to get emails with a signed assurance that the author was Bill Gates. Rrriiiiiiiiiiiiiiight.
The call for action, or at least recognition of the problems being faced right now made me wonder if for once this was the real thing. I'll probably never know. For what it's worth, this is what I do know: there is a country across the Pacific, made up for over 7000 islands and islets, where my family has its roots and the hospital where I was born still stands. I do care about the many loved ones I have there, and their future. I can only hope that my future will bring me back there someday to bring it all together full-circle. I also recognize that there is so much *stuff* going on there that might make the country wait for generations for any widespread changes to occur. We'll just have to wait and see. (If you'd like to see the "essay/letter" email me and I'll forward you a copy.)
I got my first email account when I was 14. Good gracious, AOL in the old days. When A/S/L, BRB, and LOL were just letters. Most of my friends weren't online yet, so it was all about pen pals.
But *ARGH* those damn forwarded emails! Chain letters like no tomorrow!
Little Jimmy needs a quadruple organ transplant and the hospital is tracking how many email signatures you can get. They'll give him 2cents for every name...and he needs a million bucks!
The forwarded prayers were sticky, since I'm a person of faith. The emails would talk about how you MUST spread the good word and save your friends or whatevers....so I didn't want to have God pissed off at me if I deleted the email. I'd say a couple of words to Him before I did.
"Make A Wish! If you forward this to 20 people your wish will come true! It can happen to you!"
Then there were the quiz ones...the ones where you have to fill out all kinds of information about you, including whether you prefer bacon bits or croutons. (I just got that same one AGAIN last week. Too funny!)
And the quote ones. The ones that either have a story or a ton of quotes regarding a single topic. I don't know if I have some form of ADD, but after reading 25 quotes on love (for the million-teenth time) and survival...I'm starting to wonder if I'm being cursed for not forwarding it to 12 friends 4 years ago.
I always wondered, how on earth did someone do those forwards that look like they're animated when you scroll them?
You know you're getting old when a 14 year old sends you an email you got almost 10 years ago. *eek*
At this point, looking for a job feels like the (dating game).
Interviews (first dates)...you show up wondering if you're dressed correctly but you're almost always over dressed. Being late is a no-no. Smiles seem generally fake, questions are usually the same. After several of these, you have to pretend that the answers aren't canned and that you weren't expecting to describe "your favorite working environment".
Rejections...talking about being overqualified (they don't want you to make them feel dumb) or underqualified (looking for bigger boobs and a smaller waist). I do much better with the up-front methods...where you know that this meeting is the first and last. And if it isn't the last...woo hoo! Things get interesting.
Offers...you have to assess whether you're willing to accept a salary that isn't necessarily what you're worth. (Sorta like when you meet a great guy with overactive-wandering eyes or that tells bad jokes all the time...even though we're not talking forever, can we tolerate this for a while?) ***Friendly clarification: There isn't necessarily anything wrong with a wandering eye. As long as there is no malice involved, and that enough time had already been spent in the past establishing where the eyes end up after they wander.***
It's not all bad. But the thing is, you can take a break from the dating game and still go on with your life. Can't treat a job hunt like that or else...you'll end up depending on rich dates to survive!
I was on the 5 with a friend, who was speeding as usual. Then I hear this skid, and a loud noise...turn around and see a 4-runner hit the center divider, flip over, and drift from lane 1 to 4.
Daaayyyyyyymmmmnnnnnn!
If we'd been going any slower, I don't even want to imagine what might have happened.
So those of you that have those theories that the Audi TT, S2000s, MR2 Spyders...all those little cars are death traps...get the facts right--
If ya can't pay attention while you drive and do it safely, you've inadvertently chosen your hearse.
Went on yet another job interview this morning. I had medium hopes, since it was a for a nice hotel and I had a contact there that's management level.
I get to the place and ask where HR was...in all the visits I've made there, I'd never seen the HR offices. Let me tell you why:
THEY'RE IN THE FRIGGIN' BASEMENT!
You have to go down these back stairs, and as you descend you can sense the temperature and humidity rising. At the foot of the stairs is the beginning of a long, narrow hallway. I saw the sign hanging down that said "Human Resources" and walked towards the door beneath it. There I found a group of girls, being told by a very *snappish* (think Lucy Liu during her first episodes of Ally McBeal) woman that this is not where they needed to be and that they had to wait down the hall. Meanwhile there's housekeeping staff running around, maintenance folks staring at me, and the hum of large machinery.
So I, sweating in my best suit, approached that woman because her name tag matched the name of the person who called me for the interview. I tried to make some sort of hello happen, or even a sense of recognition from her, but all I got was a blank look and another snappy line about waiting down the hall. "You try to be nice..."
Since the room was already full, I decided to set up camp outside where I could fill out my application on a counter affixed to the wall. *irk moment* - I don't like the fact that I bust my ass crafting my resume, only to rewrite everything on a stupid form.
So the eventually the prescreening interview commences...the usual blah blah blah questions about your favorite job, your least favorite job, your most challenging situation with a co-worker, a customer...blah blah blah. Afterwards I find out that 1) you can only apply for one position (I was considering three initially), and 2) they don't pay sh*t. Even for the highest position I was eligible for...I'm making a little less than that collecting unemployment from the state. That's just ASS. *sigh*
I was having a serving of spicy noodles when I discovered a software package called Manila.
How weird is that? The folks at Userland explain it this way: "Manila is an Internet server application that allows groups of writers, designers and graphics people to manage full-featured, high performance Web sites through an easy-to-use browser interface."
Uhhhhhhhh....yeah.
I feel generally irked about the name. The packaging features a red, sunset-like backdrop, with the silhouette of some palm trees. But here's the kicker. In the forefront is a green catcus. I suppose that the cactus is a reference to the Frontier software company, but it makes me laugh because I didn't realize that you could associate cacti with a the capital of a tropical country.
I mean, my uncle had a prize winning horse named Manila. And if you're creative enough, you could probably think of a reason why that bothers you too. But seeing the city of my birth with a "tm" sign attached to is really just supergrossannoyingweird.
And now...off to the Coronado to have a great day!
Sometimes it amazes me what I see in my dreams...until I realize that most human beings only use a small percentage of that 8-pound thing on top of my neck.
I've been awake too long to remember why I saw it, but the image that remains on my mind is a lake. A lake with mountains sloping into it on the left and right side. The peach/amber/purple sky, and it's reflection on the lake suggests that the sun has either arriving soon or has just left. Directly in front of me is a railing so that I can't get any closer than I am. The water is calm and there is no breeze, until a flock of birds takes flight and begins flying a pattern above the lake. Synchronized...undulating...amazing. I berated myself for not having a camera in hand, and began capturing frames in my own mind. Their feathers caught various points of light on the water and made them sparkle. Eventually the flock tired of their surroundings and flew off in another direction.
I'm not trying to analyze what I saw, I just thought it looked pretty groovy.
I was talking to [james] just now about a previous blog, and we began exploring the following thought:
Do you remember a time in your life when the prospect and act of *making out* was just so damn cool?
There are many levels to this....they can occur over a period of years or perhaps even hours, with a single person or with several single people.
Level One: "I'm-new-at-this-and-wow-it's-cool-but-I-can't-let-on-that-I'm-new-at-this. Man, wait til I tell my friends! I hope I'm doing this right?"
Level Two: "OK, I think I've got it down now, we're not hitting noses or teeth and we've found places to practice. Hell yeah! Geez, I wish he wouldn't have gotten onions earlier.."
Level Three: Hickeys. Damnnit.
Level Four: You're kissing at every opportunity, (kinda like what you're going to do when you first start having sex) and you're making everyone around you nuts.
Level Five: "the runner advances to Second and Third..."
Level Six: the score.
This is a generalization, absolutely. But the moral of the blog is that for many, it's a lost art. It becomes a quick intro to what most people consider the Main Event. (And hey for the record, I'm a big fan of the main event too!)
Being a good kisser is like being a good conversationalist. It's such an expressive thing to do. It can speak so much about your thoughts and yourself...yet some people take their perceptions too far (as is the case in conversation as well). Like speech, a kiss can be simply an act or a manipulation. Or it can be this amazing non-verbal conversation.
Before "love" and "marriage" and "the baby in the baby carriage", there was K-I-S-S-I-N-G.
Saturday, August 03, 2002 ::: ...notable...quotable...love it...live it...
"Be courteous to all, but intimate with few, and let those few be well tried before you give them your confidence. True friendship is a plant of slow grow, and must undergo and withstand the shocks of adversity before it is entitled to the appellation."
-George Washington
"May you live every day of your life."
-Jonathan Swift
I really am one of the luckiest people in the world. Despite all of the drama from all parts of life, despite the fact that we haven't seen each other in about a year, I just finished a 2.5 hour conversation with an old dear friend from the Bay Area.
One of the things I love most about Lexi is the fact that, even though we hardly see each other, we never miss a beat when we're reunited. Even when you have to do that quick introduction of who you're talking about. We've both grown and changed so much ever since I moved away. Good lawd, almost 4 years ago now. But none of that matters because we're still essentially the same people deep down. And Lex is one of the few people that sees that.
I still remember the first day we met. College of San Mateo, Spring 96 semester. She was one of those faces that I knew was my age, we had like 4 degrees of separation at the time. Barely out of high school, I was trying to make up for the fact that I'd taken too many classes in the fall and didn't really make any friends. She was in the caf, stressin over a book that I'd already read the semester before. I asked her about it, and she kinda gave me this shy reception. But she seemed really cool... Everything else after that is a blur. Lots of laughing, trips in her parents MPV (I owe you like a million dollars in gas money huh), listening to the Fugees, Cafe International, Roach Coach, long conversations about guys, long conversations about our parents, long conversations about guys, mobbin over to SF State, TGIF, two circles of friends become one. Did I mention long conversations about guys? Hahaha, I distinctly remember Lex being the first person I told when *something* really amazing/important happened. And I remember telling her first because I felt safe doing so.
But yeah eventually our lives went in sorta different directions. She to San Jose and I to San Diego. But I love that I can wake up on a random Saturday morning, realize how much I miss her and give her a call. And that it might have been months since I've talked to her, and when I see her name on the caller ID I know I gotta get comfortable. She has her "best friends" and I have mine. But it's all good in the neighborhood.
When the time came to honor the life of a friend that went on to Heaven, ***RIP Pia K. Manio***, Lex had me stay with her and we (along with the rest of our "family") pulled it together to say goodbye. Even knowing that many of us couldn't remember the last time that we'd all been in a room together. The love was there, the support was there.
Anyway, I could go on and on about how she can always make me laugh, how we love the same kinda men and even the dull moments are good. But when she reads this she's prolly gonna be embarassed and make me delete this blog. Haha, mahals, think again. Mad love to you.
Follow your heart and happiness will follow in good time. You are one of my shining stars! *MUAH* *HUGS*
"Drop Some Drums" - Fatboy Slim
"Sometimes" - Britney Spears (...yeah yeah yeah...i know.)
"Papercut" - Linkin Park
"Weekend" - Kenny Lattimore
"Clair de Lune" - Claude Debussy
"If You Leave Me Now" - Jaya
"Legend" - Nelly Furtado
"Guillotine (Swords)" - Raekwon the Chef
"Love Rain (remix)" - Jill Scott and Mos Def
"Things I'll Never Say" - Avril Lavigne
"Try A Little Tenderness" - Otis Redding
"Amber" - 311
Friday, August 02, 2002 ::: Attack of the Nerds...Redux
What's a schoolgirl costume without a teddy bear backpack?
Gotta be there in an hour. A whole convention full of uberdorks.
I'm excited! Goin back to my roots.
Most of my friends that everyone said were "dorks" all did whatever they could to move far far away from where we came from. MIT, Harvard, Cornell...and as far as I know never came back. Maybe I'll see some old friends today.
What I miss the most is, not their twisted sense of humor, not their ability to speak Klingon, but their sincerity. Their sense of community and care towards one another. And of course, the academic advice!
I'm going to be working at the ComicCon in the morning, promoting the San Diego Asian Film Festival. I've been asked to bust out my infamous "school girl" outfit from a past Pimp 'n' Ho party. I have never been to a ComicCon in San Diego, which I've been told is unlike any other. So perhaps I have yet to realize how wearing my hair in pigtails and a short plaid skirt will help promote the festival. I don't think anyone there will be admiring my platform loafers.
Oh that's right! Because I'm competing for attention against the porn stars and gorgeous models. My bad!
I'm gonna work the whole "exotic angle." *wink*
silly banter Friends: "No offense, but doesn't that undermine the integrity of the Film Fest by you guys doing that? You're playing up to the Asian stereotypes and fetishes."
Me: "Actually, I'm kinda proving that we do educate ourselves. Hence the SCHOOLgirl outfits. And look at Halle Berry. Do you really think she was thinking about art when she went topless in Swordfish for those 2 gratuitous seconds? But she's still a respectable actress."
Friends: "Dood, you're gonna go topless? We got your back, aight? Or actually the front. Hehehehe..."
ok, for a hot minute i thought that my comment script issues have been solved. NOT. there's an error in the script supposedly, but i don't know how that happened if i didn't make any changes. does that make it a server side error?!!?!?!
Got out of a late meeting/interview, and after it was over, the discussion moved towards where to have an overdue dinner. At 11:30pm on weeknight with a shoestring budget...the majority proclaimed "In-and-Out Burger!"
Me, my buddies Acid Reflux and Diet were very much against this idea. Yet I couldn't fight the peer pressure and gave in to a cheeseburger combo. My two friends are now furious with me.
