three broad goals for 2010
1/ follow bliss: be less hindered in the search for ecstatic moments. doing so requires the realization of: "any commitment, that is, any progression from a state of perfect balance, must create, a vulnerability."
2/ be more peaceful: "it does not mean to be in a place where there is no noise, trouble or hard work. it means to be in the midst of those things and still be calm in your heart."
3/ reduce the moobs a little: seriously. or get a manssiere.

Today, my professor was telling us about this one case where state police towed and impounded this car, whose owner hadn't put coins in the meter. The court found such seizure to be unreasonable b/c the car owner came running out, as the car was being towed, and offered to pay not only the meter, but the cost of towing and inconvenience, as long as they just didn't take his car away. The reason? Apparently, he had a bag full of rubber penises in his trunk, which apparently is illegal in Texas to have.

Anyway, this story made me think of you. Well, you and one of the quotes on your page.

Hope all is going well for you...

Jess
[04/2005]

this is a short piece I wrote for the ADHS website in 2005 regarding events of December 2003. the non-profit I was working for at the time was contracted by the Roman Catholic Diocese of Phoenix to give "Safe Environment" and sexual assault / abuse prevention workshops to all Catholic schools in the area. given that the POWER program was delivered to 7th through 12th graders, the junior high and elementary schools would often invite parents to an "information session" about a week before we would present to each school. through some fluke of scheduling, I was sent to this parent night pretty much by myself before I had ever delivered or even seen the entire program. (the other presenter mentioned is not Tom, but someone who presented another program and couldn't help answer any questions about mine.)

This "baptism by fire" will be funny in hindsight, I tell myself.

I barely stifle a smirk. I doubt that the men and women glaring at me would share my amusement. Surprisingly enough, even the nicest of people completely lose their sense of humor when perceiving a threat to their children. There is a moment of silence as I look down at the wilting piece of notebook paper my mentor had scrawled a very rough outline on. The answer isn't there, but even if it was, I wouldn't realize it because in this magical moment, I manage to forget what was asked of me.

Welcome to my first parent night ever.

Raymundo
how you been? i'm in a very dark place...seriously, lots of clouds. there's a really cool coffee shop in walking distance. owned by a woodcarver, it's part art gallery part place to ingest caffeine while sitting on 60s? 70s? furniture of hues born of a color wheel that doesn't exist in college art courses (and perhaps with good reason). It's got a co-op vibe--when employee steps out for a smoke, customers take over barista responsibilities, which is ok bc there's no formal menu and Boss is an arthritic border collie, and she just don't give a shit. With dog hair on the couches and a fly in my steamed milk, i'm just waiting for the hint of a social cue to strip of my clothes and sip my java the way nature intended. i'll keep you posted on that front. anyway, this place naturally made me think of you. hope all is well.
Brien

for speaking at a conference, I received a gift bag that included a matching "padfolio" and lunch cooler. I felt my bpa-free stainless steel adult thermos filled with red kool-aid would go well with my adult trapper keeper* and my adult lunch box. despite having all this neat stuff, however, I'm still not (yet) invited to eat at the cool kids' table in the cafeteria. perhaps I should find an adult equivalent to the slap bracelet.

*as if I needed further verification that I'm getting old, I asked a student worker if she knew what a trapper keeper was and she said, "isn't it just a folder?" is it possible to explain how many nascent nerds felt that their entire social status hinged on acquiring one of these "just a folders?"

being Chinese-American and mistaken for "Harold" on a regular basis, I have, as many would expect, sort of a soft spot for Panda Express. any time I'm in the mood to forget nostalgic notions of savory home-cooked meals, I can always trust in Panda Express to offer tender, delicious, bowel-convulsing cuisine that reminds me nothing of the comfort foods mom (or in my people's native tongue: "ma") used to slave away for hours in the hot kitchen to stuff our bratty, ungrateful mouths full of.

most people may not know this, but ironically (or "cleverly") "Panda Express" is actually a Chinese phrase. an allusion to exquisite tea houses and fine restaurants of the Qing dynasty, the phrase translates roughly to "Glorious House of Succulent Temptations and Unending Flatulence." even as I toured several in the area (side note: outstanding romantic evening out for the more adventurous of you lovebirds out there) these "Glorious Houses" indeed never failed to live up to their name. each place created a unique evocative atmosphere exactly like the one before it.

if I were to impart only one of the countless touching memories I amassed during these visits, I think it'd have to be one from College Avenue and University. I found a choice seat in the corner and had my book open to indicate that even though I was eating alone, I was still busy and therefore important. I had my gwailo-impressing chopsticks at the ready and the scents of orange- like- flavoring- on- chicken were already making my mouth water and my stomach nervous. as I sat with twitchy anticipation, not unlike a heroin addict, preparing myself for instants of delicious bounty and hours of regret, I paused for a moment. I found myself marveling in awe at the wall-hangings of Chinese calligraphy. words cannot describe the beauty and poignancy of a language that has characters that can mean either "tasty" or "gaseous" depending on the pronunciation. my joyous appreciation would later manifest itself in an extra-loud burp.

I once had to put up with this tool who couldn't string together coherent sentences because he didn't have coherent thoughts. instead, he spoke in sentiments suggesting depth and followed a schema of behavior that he must've modeled after that creepy kid in American Beauty. (you know, the "everything is so goddamn beautiful I just can't take it I'm gonna vomit everywhere unless you take off all your clothes so we make the nookie" kid.) this particular smacktard wrote awful poetry that suggested deeper melancholy, hunched over his guitar while listlessly strumming it and engaged awestruck women hunting for passion in conversations about "the nature of... things."

the worst were his quotes. I like quotes and aphorisms as much as the next guy and I don't mind when people whip some juicy ones out as appropriate. this assclown kept a little book of quotes with him at all times, but the quotes were all sort that uncreative people used to start or end shitty speeches and shitty essays. you know, quotes by kennedy, gandhi, lincoln, martin luther king and dr. fucking seuss. I may just be speculating, but it seemed to me that he'd memorize a few the night before just to throw them down in the middle of conversations about passion, connectedness / brotherhood or social change. the funny thing is that it's possible to maneuver just about any conversation to revolve around one of these subjects. the sad thing is that none of his quotes ever came close to fitting.

examples:
"if you really work hard, you could achieve your dreams."
"yeah and martin luther king once said, 'I have a dream.'"

or "shit! something's in my eye!"
"gandhi once said, 'an eye for an eye leaves everyone blind.'"

don't get me wrong, I actually have little problem with plain stupidity. I am not the quickest of cats and I appreciate the consideration of those more brilliant than I, so I do my best not to be too much of a bastard to those less fortunate. I could understand if he was just learning to play guitar and played it shittily every chance he got in order to improve. I could accept that he might not have read as much on the philosophy of mind or obscure topics in psychology. unlike some nerds, I understand that to be a nerd is a choice and other people might choose to spend their time around real people.

the bottom line is I can accept earnest naivete and obliviousness. this isn't a matter of intellectual elitism though. there was something else going on. call it the difference between being multi-faceted and being a chameleon.

most of us have a tendency to embellish our stories a little. we pretend to be a little smarter, a little tougher, a little more unfazed, a little more knowledgeable than we actually are. we highlight and exaggerate and minimize for dramatic effect. I can accept harmless story manipulation even to the point of blatant white lies. still, there was something insidious about this particular guy. something about him gave those in the know the distinct feeling that things would be bad if someone fell for his ruse.

[this is something I rarely do; I'm not actually finished writing this article yet. I've been sketching some ideas out for awhile and just felt like publishing what I had so far.]

"you can sometimes look at a 12-year old and see the obnoxious idiot they could one day become. they aren't bad in that 'grow up and sell crack to preschoolers' kind of way. more the type that will drive a hummer with a 'save the planet' bumper sticker."
--geoff trenchard
on def poetry jam

I'm glad the holidays are over. being the procrastinator that I am, I waited until the season's feeding frenzy was in full effect before getting my own ass started on my christmas shopping. I was confronted by the standard hordes of people all dragging themselves out of their homes for charity, peace and love. crowds of people, sub-speed-limit traffic, stores running out of pretty much everything interesting, the works. but this year more than other years, I was surprised by how douchey people were. maybe not the level of douchiness (though the level this year seemed much higher than I can remember from previous years), more the combination of the level with the context: people were out buying gifts to demonstrate how caring they are, but were being absolutely horrendous to everyone around them in the process. the day after thanksgiving was an especially strange sight: people swarming with elbows out; pushing and shoving in the spirit of graciousness and generosity.

Wir müssen durch viel Trübsal in das Reich Gottes eingehen.
We must enter the Kingdom of God through much sorrow.
(Acts 14:22)

about twelve years ago, I attended a fairly rigorous music camp. by rigorous, I mean that every student had a three hour mandatory practice session scheduled every day. in addition to that, there were other blocks of optional practice time which *limited* students to a total of 7-8 hours a day. at the end of the optional evening practice times, the camp counselors would have to go door to door to remove students from the practice rooms 1/ for legal supervision reasons but primarily 2/ to keep the students from practicing so much that they injured themselves.

"fairly" rigorous.