Yet another Online Profile

And In The End

2008-10-01T14:15:00.003-04:00

There is the beginning.

This here is the curtain call for Yet another Online Profile.

You saw it coming. You've been watching those pretty burgundy drapes fall for months now and so it will be that you won't be grieving for this place for very long, will you?

That's good to hear, because this pot of ashes gives way to this kindling fire:

air.castle.invention

Update your feeds and your bookmarks if you want to continue read what I write on the intertube. Give me some time and I won't just be blogging over at aic, just for your information.

It's been good here. It's been really bad here. I'm glad to have started this and I am very happy to move on to something new. Ciao bellas.

I'm Just a Meme, Living in Captivity

2008-09-15T11:17:00.006-04:00

Andy tagged me, as did Ki, previously.

The Rules:
• Link the person who tagged you.
• Mention the rules on your blog.
• Tell about 6 unspectacular quirks of yours.
• Tag a fellow blogger by linking.

Quirk 1 - I love to write, draw, sing, play most musical instruments, act, and sink into a very quiet introversion.

Quirk 2 - I enjoy stillness when it suits me, and I don't stop moving when I'm idly watching a movie or having conversation.

Quirk 3 - My sexuality is not a main identifier of my personality and is not easily labeled (such as, heterosexual, homosexual, bisexual and so on and so on)

Quirk 4 - I'm a nerd and I LOVE athletics.

Quirk 5 - When entering a new group, I stay introverted for (some interminable amound of time) a while before feeling comfortable revealing myself and loosening up. Not sure how quirky that really is, actually.

Quirk 6 - I hear music. All the time.

I tag - Margot

They Say I'm Just A Clown

2008-09-12T13:59:00.005-04:00

Just because I love it here, doesn't mean I would stay here forever. I could leave as easily as I came. Marie and I sometimes hang a question in the air, like "what do you think of North Carolina?" or "Do you think Portland ould be a nice place?" We'll stand in front of the dangling sentence and fold our arms or one of us will thoughtfully pinch their chin and we'll contemplate the intent of the question's creator.

We really don't know what's next for us. That's familiar territory for me and since our stability in New York is an unknown, I've really got to milk everyday for what it's worth while we're still here. Unless, of course, we stay. There really isn't much of a downside to doing my thang like we're going to be leaving, even if we decide to stay. Whatever the case, we're going to make it the best we can.

I wonder how much longer my job is going to continue to need me. We're getting a new database at the beginning of next year, which is when my latest contract is up. They'll need some serious help moving everything into the new system, so, it's likely they'll still need me for that. When the new DB is up and running though, how much of my position is really going to be required? The program will take care of most of what I do, which is really great. There's a lot of human energy spent on managing information because our more modern office programs don't play well with our DB, because it was built before the new programs. Maybe the web development side of my job will start to grow as the DB maintenance position begins to wither and shrink.

On Monday, I will be starting another class at the SVA. I know I promised to put up the stuff I was doing in my summer classes. I will. My excuse would be that the office has been really busy and I still don't have the scanner drivers for my linux box which is where the printer is hooked-up. This new class is based more of the language of comics storytelling, panel usage and utilizing the tools of communicating for the effect of the story. This probably means I'll actually be READING some comics for a change and that'll be nice. There will still be a lot of drawing. A lot of drawing. Maybe since it's just this one class, instead of two, I'll get more of my work done.

Marshalled the NYC Century on Sunday. I was supposed to cover about one-hundred miles and wound up modifying my route after finding my rear axle was bent where the quick-release met the frame, forcing my chain off the drive train every time a butterfly flapped its wings in china. And they flap their wings often. The handy dandy guys at the free bike repair tent in Prospect Park (set-up specifically for this ride), were kind enough to let me know there was nothing they could do and that axles were the one and only part they forgot at their shop that day. No worries. I met up with my rocktastic riding buddy, and let her down gently. No one-hundred today. We moseyed over to the TA info table and filled in for Mattio when he had to bail. After giving out two boxes of water-bottles and getting dirty looks from every person who couldn't print out their own damn cue sheets at home expecting us to have OVER SEVEN THOUSAND stapled cue sheet packets (four sheets per packet, who do they think we are?), I was offered a bicycle by one really great guy from the office. Riding Buddy and I took off to his place -- kicking my chain three times on the way, finally coasting to his building's door -- and swapped the bikes with his girlfriend.

The ride was really great: 60 miles. We rode the 35 mile route and the tail end of the one-hundred route in the Bronx. I'll have to write it out a little later. Sorry to get your hopes up, I've got work to be doing. This past week was hard, personally. I was a failboat. Now, I'm resurfacing, and trying to get my bearings and coarse headings set so I can get going again. Time to say goodbye to a fellow fringe friend. Salut.

Where Dylan Lived

2008-09-11T22:53:00.003-04:00

I love New York City. There isn't a t-shirt I could wear, or a sticker I could stick which would fully describe the relationship I enjoy with the capital of the world. Not even the iconic [heart] is symbolic enough to represent the experience of sleeping in The Bronx and working in the neighborhood of Chelsea, near what used to be called "Hell's Kitchen", on the island of Manhattan. I bike under the elevated tracks on Westchester Avenue as the trains thunder above, clicking and clacking express into the city and making all stops to Baychester.

When I'm on my bike and navigating the concrete runs of New York City, every moving vehicle becomes predatory. The cabs, cops, and bmws are all sharks silently moving in and out of the lanes and through the intersections. They don't seem hungry now, but they could lash out and snap or bite at any moment. I sharpen my eyes and stay on my toes, devouring the tiny organisms living on the belly of these beasts. I ride close so they know I exist. I ride fast so they know I exist. I stay on my toes.

Riding my bicycle doesn't have to take place in the oceanic depths. I could ride on less crowded roads where the trail is protected by long strips of green and grey and the pedestrians run and walk and the other cyclists ring their bells in gratitude. The thing is: I enjoy Sixth Avenue in between twenty-sixth street and fifty-ninth. It's cliff diving, BASE jumping, sky-diving. It's my brothers' tyranny of the local police department just for the thrill of the chase. I do love the chase and this city offers me all sorts of different ways to chase and be chased.

I love the people, here. There are so many! Every one of them has a story and probably wants for you to listen to what they have to say. I don't know how many times I've sat down with a complete stranger and talked for an hour or so about ideas, people, life, love, family, and everything else that falls into the cracks so that the regulars in your world don't ever get a chance to know. Like the woman I met who defied her family's wish for her to marry a man whom didn't want to marry her either, then moved to New York City from India and was only in the city for two weeks before I crossed her path. She cried with me at a table in Starbucks on 42nd St.

Most of the people I already know and love are very far away and I think this colors everything that happens here with a certain shade of loneliness. I'd tell you which shade, however, I'm colorblind. Seriously.

There is so much to say about what I love that is New York City, even those things which are terrible (e.g. Educational Infrastructure, Political Corruption, Gentrification of Cultural Communities, et cetera) are still part of my love for this town. Such stories! So many lifelines entangled and untangled and broken and tied! I really do feel like I am apart of it, here in old New York. And yet, it does seem too big to touch. A lifeline unto itself.

(last year's 9/11 post: I Said I'm All Alone)

Blow-up the Outside World

2008-09-08T13:58:00.002-04:00

Dicovery Channel's Simulation of a Large Scale Asteroid Impact with Earth

Oil!

2008-08-04T10:46:00.000-04:00

Nothing Much Really. I'm Sure To Inspire Readership With This Title, Which Is Also The Longest I've Ever Used.

2008-07-26T00:24:00.005-04:00

Marie and I have made it down to DC (speaking of DC) with ourselves intact. Her sister looks to have adapted to her new life here on the east coast and we had a great time eating sandwiches at Potbelly's (I also had an ice cream cone), lazying about in MSister's (still trying to think of a better psuedonym) apartment before venturing out for falafel at Falafel and Fries. SO. Good.

Talked with Bullfrog--who's attending the San Diego ComiCon--and we're scheming some upcoming projects to build up our portfolios for other future projects even further down the line (hopefully with some very large companies that produce comics and characters and stories that are loved by one, the other, or both of us). I'm going to be taking a project oriented intermiedate-ish comics class this fall and bullfrog believes he'll have something ready for us at that time. THEN we'll high tail it to SDComiCon (next year, of course). I think he should come out for the New York ComiCon next year, though that might break his poor starving artist bank account. We'll see.

It's late here, we just watched Thank You For Smoking. Highly entertaining.

We're going to get to X-Files the movie this weekend (HOLY CRAP!) and maybe we'll get to see a few cousins while we're here. For now, goodnight and goodluck.

Good For Your Soul

2008-07-24T14:26:00.002-04:00

Dear Nina's father has moved on, so it goes. Will you go give her some love?

Reflections in DC, Marvel

2008-07-23T21:45:00.002-04:00

Andy, over at Luminary Impressions, is one of my oldest and dearest friends. We seemed to grow up in a tangled mess of fantasy and reality, trying to navigate through the hard and harrowing years of our adolescence by constantly referring to the old comic book collection my brothers had left to me and the growing stack of new titles and stories his brother brought to their house. As tender, nearly unguided ten year olds we adopted attributes of the outcast heroes we wished to resemble to our personalities and, mostly in my case, our actual physical beings. In what ways did we hope to accomplish this transformation? Beyond the scope of imagination--which is a conundrum in and of itself--how the hell could these young true-believers become the incredible, amazing, uncanny, indelible UBER sapient (and in some cases alien or animal and so on)? We didn't have an answer, because we didn't have the question. We just did it. Done.

My new best-friend and partner in misfit mischeif and unreality, Andy, focused on personality enhancements and character development when he created The Freak. His costume was simple: a light-weight, Boy Scouts of America windbreaker and a nondescript ball cap with capital "F"s (created through the miracle of duct-tape: truly a versatile tool.) emblazoned proudly on his back, chest and head. His powers, basically, granted him invulnerability to the status games of the elementary social machine, of which we were superfluous screws. Either one of us could loosen and fall from the overall chassis and the integral structure would not falter. However, as we loosened ourselves from the elementary engineering entropy, we could make one hell of a rattle. The Freak wasn't antagonistic. He wasn't mean or snide or a bully. He wasn't ugly or even too far flung from the shared reality of our peers. The Freak was just willing to be himself. I would go so far to say that The Freak grew from the natural state of Andy's being and his complete lack of understanding on how to conform to the grade school status-quo.

We were natural allies.

Though Andy, a.k.a The Freak, and myself had very different childhoods, backgrounds, and influences, we became fast friends in our fifth grade class, each recognizing the immediate plight of our shared social status: Geek, Nerd, Freak, Weird, Strange, etc. Rather than cower in shame under the weight of the identities being thrust upon us, Andy embraced them and molded the shame into creativity and fun and pride. Strength and celebration in and of obvious individuality which took hold unwaveringly deep within the root of Andy's core. Catching the rocks viciously thrown at his head and sculpting a beautiful bust; The Freak was an emblem to creation.

I don't remember the name of my alter-ego. At least, not the one I created alongside Andy and The Freak when we were ten. My powers were imagined to create strength and ability where I believed I had none. To foster the secret belief of my personal greatness manifesting itself by enhancing my hearing, touch, strength, speed, agility, and healing ability. I could choose to feel pain at my own discretion and I was all too willing to show the unbelievers by growing my nails and clawing the insides of my forearms. I remember believing and embodying the powers I gave myself so faithfully that when the recess bell which hung just outside our classroom rang-out while I was walking by, I dropped to the ground and curled into a tight ball, clutching the sides of my head trying to protect my super-sensitive ears, screaming as high and loud as I possibly could, watching my classmates stare at me in confusion as they walked outside to the large playground. My powers confronted and accentuated the differences between myself and my peers. I became something beyond myself. I pushed the limitations of my own mind to include improbabilities bordering on impossibility. I willed my body to do more, run faster, and climb higher. I based my powers on fears and insecurities and a hint of truth.

The Freak and I didn't hold on to our augmented selves for very long. Andy hung up his windbreaker and ball cap for good and exclaimed in humility "What was I thinking?!" I gave up my super-sensitive hearing to opt for just sensitive hearing, somehow sustaining my ability to stand when I was next to unexpected, loud events. However, neither of us gave up on our belief in ourselves and the unlimited scope we could explore, if only we were to decide. To me, the evidence is far too great in favor of the awesome, rather than the bleak and I continue to believe this today.

Andy recently asked me who or what my favorite superhero is and I don't know that I have one anymore. Spiderman will always have a place in my heart for giving me an example of intelligence, wit, agility, and strength all in one spandex wearing, web-slinging package. I used to favor the characters who's powers hinted at the highest extreme in ability. Chamber, created by Scott Lobdell and Chris Bachalo, had powers which destroyed his upper-chest, throat and lower jaw. He didn't eat or drink and could only communicate non-verbally, which includes telepathy. It was believed that he is made up of pure psionic energy. He was sullen and moody and powerful: just my kind of guy. However, to be honest, I haven't followed superhero comics in a very long time and I am only recently throwing myself head first back into the culture of comic books, cartooning and graphic novels. I'm gaining more artistic influences every week and my own drawing style is adapting and changing and growing, too.

So really, with all humility, I'd like to say that I am my own favorite superhero. Or I'd like myself to be. Not to raise me above and beyond as better than anyone else in the world. I say this to embrace myself, just as Andy had done when he created his ill-fated Freak. I really have many, many superheroes and The Freak is right there near the top, for the reason of why I believe he was created and the purpose he served. Also, Marie, Opera Singer, Ki, Margot, My Mom, My Father, Mattio, Nina (though you'd probably deny it. Accept it and move on.), Nena, Markus Aurelius and SO MANY MANY more have all been heroic and maybe even antagonists in my life and I believe have interesting stories to be told, or kept. These days, my superhero is less and less like the same formula comic books have used for eighty years and much more outstanding and common than not. I know that's not necessarily what you were expecting, Andy. However, It is what I'm giving.

So, I'm Waiting

2008-07-23T13:27:00.003-04:00

Just sent off the email to Andy to get clearance on the latest post. It might get canned, though I hope it doesn't (even if it is an unrefined first-draft).

So, a couple of things:

Check out Al Gore's speech that is a half-an-hour long:

It's good, really.

We're going to DC this weekend to hang out at Marie's sister's place (my sister, too.. still a little strange. Not THAT strange. Anyway.) and probably go to the SPY MUSEUM SO COOL.

And I finally made it to the American Museum of Natural History last sunday with Marie. The Biodiversity Exhibit was really great and made me want to gouge out my heart with a spoon.

Just waiting on Andy, now. Drawing and doing laundry, soon. Tah.

Hot in Here

2008-07-22T16:18:00.004-04:00

Alright, alright. I'm comin' back. I've got a full page to ink and two more to tighten-up AND I'd say about 7 pages to rough on another project that is really the same project, just for a different class.

I just got a new computer. I have a new computer. Holy crap I have a new computer.

It's a linux box, too. I installed Ubuntu 2.something.or.other and did not partition a Windows OS, either. I'm swimming in greener pastures. However, the system has crashed a couple of times and that's annoying. I'm pretty sure I just need to get better acquainted with DOS and working inside the kernal in order to make the OS more stable.

And I need to get some working drivers for the NEW PRINTER/SCANNER/COPIER. Linux, of course. (CANON MP210, if anyone has any ideas...)

Anyway, the point is I've got more to say and I will be saying them soon. Cheers.

Hungry for a Good Block of Yarn

2008-07-13T13:39:00.002-04:00

What Can I Say?

2008-06-27T00:58:00.003-04:00

You are a five-legged spider.

I lean in until my nose is just a few inches from the wall and the tiny, translucent spider making its ascent. The not quite an insect, not quite a spider spider tensed all five of its remaining appendages and waited for the inevitable attack coming from whatever the hell it is that's breathing on it from a couple inches away. I move back and watch the spider waiting.

How did you get to be a five-legged spider?

There is no response to my line of internalized questioning. The five-legged spider simply decided there was no longer any danger and continued to climb the off-white wall of my living-room until it disappeared behind the conEd poster of a gloved hand giving a thumbs-up sign I stole from the subway.

You are a five-legged spider.

Genesis Rick(y) 20 12:2

2008-06-25T00:04:00.000-04:00

I was on a camping trip in the Uintahs when an idea formed within the elastic folds and wrinkles of my young mind. I was fumbling over some sticks and stones by the widening stream, accompanying an unexpectedly re-acquainted childhood friend, Sam, and her good friend, Marie. This was The Camping Trip. A lifetime of choices made and consequences avoided and faced culminating in this moment. Environments supportive and oppressive led Sam and Marie to go camping (Sam had never been), extending an invitation to me and several others a day or two before they left and myself deciding at the last second to join them. I quite literally ended my shift at the little grocery store I worked at, walked out to my car and pulled away from the curb, heading toward Parley's Canyon and beyond for a couple nights in the mountains.

I was ready for something to happen in my life; I was impatient waiting for everything to be in its right place for my life to work out. Hating the waist deep impulses to recoil, lie, and hide and perpetuate whatever bullshit I could manifest to keep people around whom I could love, whatever that meant and then maybe they would love me back. This was spontaineous. Fuck the consequences, I want out! That's partially what drove me to join Sam and Marie in their adventures in camping. Everything about that weekend was something new and I needed something new.

So, I was fumbling over some sticks and stones by the widening stream and Sam was talking about her options, her next steps after returning to home-base to recuperate after a difficult, tumultuous time away at university. She was thinking about attending art school in Boston. This simple thought cracked many fragile, winding tendrils in the off-white eggshell of protection with which I surrounded my world. A barrier I now held an intense awareness nearly resulting in a claustrophobic assault. The Shell consisted of family and friends and memories and nothing much new, never leaving the bottom of the lake, always fighting myself to be less than what I knew I could be, my story on every corner of every block, always on my back. I can leave. I can go, I don't have to stay here. These thoughts began to condense and attach to fibers of possibility and ideas, getting separated and pulled apart until each division made, growing exponentially, overshadowed every other process of thought. A developing zygote needing nourishment, a stable environment, careful handling, a little tenderness.

My newest hope was cradled in my head for a mere minute before I offered the tender-lumpling up--in order to test its durability--to the wolves of social interaction.

"Maybe that's what I need to do."
"What is what you need to do?"
"Chicago. Maybe I should just get up and move to Chicago."
"Chicago, huh?"
"What are you going to do there?"
"I don't know. Music. Whatever I need to do to get by."
"..."
"Why Chicago?"
"They've got the blues. I've got the blues... It'll work out."

I really had no idea why I said Chicago. What I found out, when I pressed my mind for answers, is that a)I'd never been to Chicago, b)it's somewhere the blues lives, c)it wasn't as big as New York City (which was too busy and peopled and it was much too high to reach.) The answers I gave myself seemed reasonable enough, so I set an evacuation date for six months in the future: February '06. Moving to Chicago in February seemed like a crazy enough idea even when you have resources for survival at your disposal and to be lumped in with the idea of getting out of Utah with just myself, my guitar(s) and a pack of clothes nesting on my back. In my mind, that only added to the adventure.

It Really Doesn't Matter

2008-06-24T00:53:00.003-04:00

If you would like an example of oppression, look no further than yours truly--beaten down court jester of the emotionally strangling majority.

The system of oppression is devious in construction, needing only the person(s) afflicted to accept their powerlessness to feed the cyclical operation. The oppressed can be the oppressed without the presence of an oppressor, aside from themselves. They can teach this way of living and believing and interacting with the world to their children and children's children and so on to enslave generations upon generations in the reality shaking tremors of self-shame and doubt.

I live with the shame of my progenitors several generations into the past. Secrets kept and violence dispensed to the young. Shame looming over the elders, like a cape and cowl to cover up and dull any experience(s) of joy they may aspire to reach. Their shame begat new shame as my life unfolded and spread out, revealing amidst the creases and folds where I've been, thinking and knowing that my existence, to me, wasn't accepted, and to where I may be heading.

These are core thought processes at the heart of my neural network. As much as I appreciate the assurances and reassurances from people in my life who care, or even just appear to care, I've been firing the neurons which activate shame for most of my life and it's going to continue to be a long battle, practicing over and over and over to be calm and claim myself as a powerful being. In order for this is stick, for me to win, I'll have to use the neural pathways that lead to shame less and less until they are eventually culled from my network. While at the same time using the pathways to those neurons that access the power I grant myself more and more, strengthening and prioritizing those ideas in my brain, therefor defeating several generation's worth of reality shaking tremors of shame.

Really, I've been fighting for and against myself for many years, now, and I think I'm starting to see an end to the madness I inflict on myself (and others) in this way. My days are often more productive than detrimental. I'm accepting myself, eccentricities and all, and gaining confidence in my ability to interact with others this way, as well.

Practice is emerging as an all around key action. It's so simple, I could nearly fall over and out of my chair just thinking it: Being yourself takes practice. I am floored. And it makes perfect sense! Some don't think too hard about being themselves and without noticing they practice nearly everyday. I am not one of those people. I've kept my abilities and attributes so flexible, so easy to fit to change that being myself can be excruciating, if I can even figure out what or who that could be. It goes the other way, too. Being someone you know is NOT yourself also takes practice, of which I am very painfully aware.

However, these flexibilities are all culminating nicely. The pot filled with everything I could find in the kitchen is beginning to smell like soup, or chili, or some sort of foodstuff cookin'. I've got some footing to work with and that's great because I'm taking on more challenging and risky ventures. Art is hard, again. Music is like nails on the chalk board, most of the time. Work is deciding to split my job-personality in two, giving me more responsibility and a pay-raise. Everything is getting harder and I consider this to be good. Which reminds me of a saying someone said sometime or another that goes something like, "Whether you're lazy, comfortable, a workhorse, poor, rich, a risk taker, dream chaser, whatever, whomever, et cetera... Life is going to be hard. So accept it and move on." Or something like that.

I'm a dream chaser. You can imagine what life must be like for the oppressed-oppressor that also must live for their dreams. If you can't imagine, I will attempt a simile: it's like drawing an invisible line on the ground and telling yourself that all you have to do is cross that line and you will be living a life you love. Then, you don't do it for no reason at all. And you hate yourself for it. Then you don't cross the line because you hate yourself for not crossing the line, which begins the cycle. That might not be much of simile, since it's actually pretty damn close to the real thing. Whatever.

Since I'm a dream chaser and an oppressed-oppressor and I would really rather drop the latter identity, I'm trying to do things that would reinforce my dream chasing inclinations. Something that is really giving me an edge in this is interacting with other people in my chosen areas of interest/love/obsession. This COULD backfire, however, I think well enough of myself that socializing is working for my efforts rather than against and I would never have thought this five years ago. I call this progress in a direction I would like to be heading. And really, all of my dreams could just blow up in my face and throw me all the way back to zero (or below) again. That's the risk, though. I gotta go for it anyway.

It Only Makes Me Laugh by Danny Elfman

George Carlin, So It Goes

2008-06-23T10:43:00.002-04:00

Not Safe For Work, Your Mom, Your Dad, Your Pastor, Your Government, Your God (although, I like to think that Your God would have the sense of humor to appreciate this), Your Oppressors, Your Language, Your Sensibilities, or Your Rights.

Spanish Bombs

2008-06-21T15:17:00.004-04:00

SO, I'm going to unplug for a week and actually journal on paper, write a couple songs, get away from the computer for a couple hundred hours. I will be back, I promise. However, I have more of life these days than I did a couple weeks ago and that life requires me to spend more time on paper than electronics.

[Raises a mug of coffee with a touch of cream and a pinch of sugar] Here's to resting and rejuvenating and recognizing when something different must be done and acting on that recognition. Cheers. [clinks mug against computer monitor, spilling coffee, cream and sugar all over the keyboard.] Gross.

Oh, hai-ku

2008-06-19T23:14:00.000-04:00

I am waiting for
sleep to come to sweep me up
into the starry sky

Oh. Muay. Thai. (and others)

2008-06-18T00:20:00.000-04:00

An Endorsement

2008-06-17T13:49:00.003-04:00

Okay. I don't think I properly conveyed my exuberance for Dino*Run on that last post. THIS GAME IS SO MUCH FUN YOU SHOULD ALL BE PLAYING IT RIGHT NOW WHAT YOU ARE WORKING WELL STOP THAT AND PLAY THIS GAME IT IS GREAT!

For you RPGers, you can save your dino and earn stat points! For you adrenaline junkies, you can try and doom surf through the level (though, you will probably exact some extinction on yourself if you attempt this). The controls and objectives are both simple, so: GO PLAY OMG.

Certain Doom

2008-06-16T22:04:00.000-04:00

Just closing a few tabs (to steal a line from Neil Gaiman's blog) Dino Run is a very fun, simple game. The name explains the action while leaving out the excitement of outrunning certain doom.

A trio of earth like planets as been discovered a mere 42 lightyears away. I wonder if the aliens we will uncover, much like the stroke of luck that unveils your most formidable opponent in a game of hide and seek, will breathe oxygen and expel cyanide gases... Only time will tell.

Having a surreal night experiencing the progression of my families' childhood WAY before I was in the works. Very weird.

Ready To Run

2008-06-15T21:34:00.004-04:00

It's all talk until you go out and do it. The precipice is really no place to be filibustering and you don't even know if taking a mile or two down that path is going to convince you it's the way to get down the mountain. Besides, you'll probably just get going down at a comfortable speed when before you know it, you've come to yet another climb to a completely different peak and the trails leading up are all just as haggard and overgrown as the last hike.

This isn't the time to be waiting around, either. Like I said, the precipice is really no place to be filibustering: the day is too hot, nightfall is coming too soon, the deliberation isn't between "should I stay?" or "should I go?", it's "Where to now?" Plan as much as you can, however, you must pass on some trails to get to where you think you want to go and you never know if, somehow, a trail you thought you had left behind will cross your path to give you the chance to go there--or not--once again. Remember: It's the 1)adventure that makes the 2)story.

A Little Bit Country

2008-06-14T23:41:00.000-04:00

Happy Sunday, folks!

But, You'll Never Hear Me Complain

2008-06-13T23:23:00.000-04:00

I'm pretty baked from that haiku I posted yesterday that came true today. Also, I'm exhausted from lifting hundreds of pounds of vinyl, gas-powered electrical generators, sand bags, and junk-food machines. Everyone seemed to have an enjoyable time, though, and that makes the heavy lifting and heat-stroke worth something. I'm going to scrape the filth from my hide in the shower and see about coaxing Marie to head to dreamland with me. Werd-up, yo.

OH YEAH, happy friday the thirteenth everyone. Even though you are probably reading this on saturday (or later).

Wrong Haiku

2008-06-12T23:50:00.000-04:00

the sun berates us
the children, the carnival
into having fun

Highway To Hell

2008-06-11T23:18:00.001-04:00

I promised an update and here I deliver:

The first three pages names the articles, so you have an idea of what you're getting into. Happy reading!

Kucinich brings thirty-five articles of impeachment against Pres. G.W. Bush:
http://chun.afterdowningstreet.org/amomentoftruth.pdf

Imma go sleep naked under a fan.

I Was Forty-Seven Inches High

2008-06-10T01:16:00.003-04:00

Looks like I'm a little late to the party on this one: Kucinich Brings 35 Articles of Impeachment Against President G.W. Bush

"Congressman Dennis Kucinich, of Ohio, (formerly a candidate for President) is reading aloud 35 articles of impeachment against President Bush on the House floor. They mainly highlight lies and faulty intelligence that Bush and his administration sold to the public in the lead-up to the Iraqi invasion, as well as information from the Valerie Plame leak."

It's about time someone with some clout decided to take a stand on this.

Here's some more light reading:

Articles of Impeachment
Drafted by Ramsey Clark, former U.S. Attorney General
The legal basis for impeachment
[taken directly from http://www.impeachbush.org]

Those aren't Dennis's articles, they are Ramsey Clark's. I'll be sure to post a link to Congressman Kucinich's articles for impeachment against G.W. Bush when I see they are available.

Too Hot

2008-06-09T22:49:00.001-04:00

STILL TOO HOT.

The World Has More For You

2008-06-08T23:59:00.000-04:00

The showers this evening brought sweet relief from the sauna we've been cooking in. The three of us, Mattio, Marie and Me, all stepped out to stand under the rain and lightning draining from the sky.

There were several times when the hairs on my arms would stand on end just before a flash would tear through the buildings and clouds. I felt the charges travel up my legs and arms. I hope the bedroom has cooled off some. No innuendo intended.

We Fail A Lot!

2008-06-07T11:06:00.003-04:00

Interesting videos I found at Olga Nunes place. She doesn't know that I'm really just re-posting a portion of what she posted earlier. That's because she doesn't know my blog, or I, exists and she has no reason to expect either TO exist. Anyway, they're both just a minute long and they both leave me time to do other more important things today, including, writing the new york narrative and attending the 116th Street Festival.

Well, now you just don't have any excuses, now do you?

And apparently waiting around for inspiration is ANOTHER excuse, so, get crackin' (as in crackin' corn)! Happy Saturday.

1000+ XP

2008-06-06T20:43:00.000-04:00

One of my favorite webcomics has just crossed its 1000th comic threshold. A few of you already know about 8-bit Theater and maybe you don't. It's context is Final Fantasy on the NES and its mission is hilarity.

Other news: I just spent a couple hours writing on the narrative. Looks like I'm going to be publishing it in parts, books, or chapters, if you will. The first is very aptly named Genesis and I think this is the most ambitious writing project I've ever attempted (apart from blogging everyday.) I think I can get the first part published tomorrow. No promises.

This Is The New Shit

2008-06-05T23:17:00.000-04:00

Today was a longish day at the office and when the time for me to leave and get to class came and went, I had forgotten to get up and go with it, as I was lost in a sea of numbers representing hours and wages ranging from late April until today. By the time I realized I had a class to attend, there were five minutes left before I was official retarded.

Scrambling, I tried to safely store the old lappy in its vinyl carrying case (I'm nearly certain the computer is safely intact... I really hope I'm right) and called up the School of Visual Arts info line:

"SVA, how can I help you?"
"Yes, My class is starting in five minutes and I don't know where it is. Can you tell me where Cartooning Basics is being held?"
"Ha,ha! Alright..."

My work is located somewhere around 7th Ave and 26th St.

View Larger Map

My class is located somewhere around 2nd Ave and 22nd St.

View Larger Map

For those Utahns (or Salt Lake City familiars), the long portion of a New York City block is slightly longer than those downtown city blocks, from which SLC is built. I hoofed it in thirteen minutes and was only twelve minutes late for class and right on time to start drawing with everybody else. Score. I already love where this class is heading and if you like, you'll be able to see the process as I go. I'm going to be drawing and inking a twelve page story with the intention of publishing (in the loosest sense) at the end of the course. I'll scan the stuff I did tonight and the homework I'm going to turn in next week on wednesday or thursday and put it online. It might be time to move over to air.castle.invention now that I have more content than just a blog. I'll let you know. Ciao.

The Leader Of The Pack

2008-06-04T22:39:00.003-04:00

The narrative is on its way and it may take writing out some sort of rough draft in the morning (of at least part one) and cleaning it up in the evening after I return from class (I'm taking classes. This is a bit strange.)

This evening, I went to my first session in the ink drawing class that I hope will balance out my illustrative skill sets. Our instructor wasn't there, so instead, the guy who's been teaching the class for the past seven years stood in for the night to give us our introduction to brushes, pens, nibs, and ink. My day struck a sore chord in regards to my nutritional intake and I achieved a minuscule amount of sleep the night before, so as we, all five of us, were listening intently to what our professor had to profess, I was watching the projected pictures on the wall lift and move as if it had no use for the wall and, really, very little to do with any hard physical structures to be found in the room. I took this as an early indication that I was completely exhausted and that an extra effort to perk up and stay engaged would be necessary to make it through this class without the added excitement and embarrassment of passing-out on the plain white drafting table in front of me.

The class was great, though. As a group, we were pretty quiet and just let the guy up front talk at us for a couple of hours with few unnecessary interjections. I hope we get more time to be social, or else I fear the feeling of awkwardness which pervaded tonight's class will become a chronic fixture of my wednesday evenings until august fourth.

In other news, I'm glad to hear Barack Hussein Obama is "the presumptive Democratic candidate." To quote Tank from The Matrix: "These are very exciting times! Very exciting!" Also, here's an article written by Frank Kaplan of which I recommend is read:

http://www.slate.com/id/2192940/pagenum/1/

Respect yourself, kids, and have some sweet dreams!

Sweep That Floor Kid

2008-06-03T23:02:00.000-04:00

It Takes Two

2008-06-02T19:39:00.003-04:00

I want to write something long-ish, today, it's just that the pollen count has had my body working overtime and I am exhausted. Tomorrow, I'll shove an elephant's share of generic-brand clariton: loritadon, into my esophagus and start workin' on a substantial narration of the journey across the country Marie and I ventured two years ago this past week.

Happy two years, New York City. Now, I'm looking forward to actually doing something while I'm still here. Ciao.

Pantoum (first draft): The Swarming Village

2008-06-01T21:28:00.004-04:00

You've watched this scene play out a thousand times
The people lining up like ants deconstructing a picnic
Holding out their hands, cupping their palms for dimes
And watching, one by one, as their faces turn from relief to panic

The people lining up like ants deconstructing a picnic
Slowly disintegrating as the colony senses danger
And watching, one by one, as their faces turn from relief to panic
Confusion coming to boil reducing friend to stranger

Disintegrating as the colony senses danger
Calm has taken flight like a shot through the trees
Confusion comes to boil reducing friend to stranger
The control swings its sticks at the swarming bees

Calm has taken flight like a shot through the trees
You've watched this scene play out a thousand times
The control swings its sticks at the swarming bees
Holding out their hands, cupping their palms for dimes

Haiku v05.30.08

2008-05-31T23:39:00.000-04:00

I am pulling teeth
out from my chest cavity
the bleeding is vast

Ain't Nothin' But Mammals

2008-05-30T21:37:00.002-04:00

The follow quote comes directly from THIS ARTICLE

Nigerian Tribune learnt that three cats were crossing the busy road when the okada ran over one of them which immediately turned into a woman. This strange occurrence quickly attracted people around who descended on the animals. One of them, it was learnt, was able to escape while the third one was beaten to death, still as a cat though.

Whoa. I want to believe. Maybe I already do. FASCINATING. Also, a little horrible, however, FASCINATING.

In other news. The music video you will find when you visit THIS LINK pretty much sums up what I want to be doing right now. Maybe sometime this summer we can arrange this. Running around the forest naked is pretty much the best thing ever. I've done this, I can tell you. I know.

But, I Did Not Shoot The Deputy

2008-05-30T20:40:00.006-04:00

Looks like I'm into posting videos for a few days. I found a much longer (and different) version of a video I posted BACK IN MARCH. I'll let you watch it without saying much more. It's tiny so go ahead and toggle the full-screen option at the bottom of the player.

Sorry!

2008-05-30T08:57:00.000-04:00

Haiku: sleepy v05.29.08

2008-05-29T23:39:00.001-04:00

doing doing do
I am now going to do
what I want to do

They Smile Never

2008-05-28T00:05:00.000-04:00

There may be someone out there who, like me, really hates most online dictionaries. Merriam-Webster's is a watering hole for advertisements and dictionary.com has me feeling like I'm wading through a pool of potential trojans and malware in the form of crumbled-up Styrofoam after thoroughly dragging my shoe-covered feet over a sturdy swath of shag carpeting.

However, someone decided to build an online dictionary modeled after one of my favorite role-models: The Ninja. Behold:

ninjawords.com

Make sure you visit the about page so as to get the most out of it's ninja-esque properties. Man, I haven't said "ninja-esque" in a long time. Too long.

Imma Do The Things That I Wanna Do

2008-05-27T08:14:00.005-04:00

Last night I just finished Batman: The Dark Knight Returns. I'm about twenty-three years late to the party on this one. Which is partly because the comic book collection I inherited from my brothers was entirely Marvel based, so I missed out on a lot of The Bat (besides the movies and the cartoons). X-men, X-force, Excalibur, Executioner's Song, X-tastic Four, and SpiderX, would call to me at night and I do believe they helped me to set the unofficial record for longest stretch of time taken to clean a bedroom. I can also thank any book that was on the floor of whatever I attempted to clean.

I started imitating Spiderman in fifth grade and I remember asking my mom for books on human anatomy so I would know what was inside and get better at drawing people. When I was twelve, I asked my brother Dave a hard question and I don't blame him for his response.

"I want to draw for Marvel comics when I grow up. Do you think I'm good enough now?"

"Uh.. Not quite."

Or something like that. Anyway, I don't think I worked quite as hard at my goal to draw comics in the gigantic corporate leagues after that. Which is okay, really, because I kept reading and drawing and stretching my base of influences to artists who are known in very small circles and I don't draw in the comic book hero style as much as I have in the past. That's good, in my opinion.

These days, I don't have to ask someone if I'm good enough to draw and write comics, I know I am. One way I know is that when I read Frank Miller, Klaus Janson, and Lynn Varley's Batman: TDKR I was thinking about technique and style and knowing that I have that. I can do that. Today. I have the skills today. I'm not trying to compare myself to Frank Miller, who has a hell of a lot of experience and self-driven tenacity and ambition and skill. He's one of my influences. I am saying I have everything I need to begin. Except a scanner. Though I think I have access to one at muh job, so that's okay.

I think the ambition and self-driven tenacity portion of the equation is something I need to employ if I'm going to make any of the hair-brained schemes I have cooking work out for me and Marie. Hey, if I can write in the damn blog everyday, and I can play the guitar and sing everyday. Then when I draw everyday, I can make some of those into stories. And before I know it, I'll be churning out tales of adventure, sadness, magic and hope. Hope's a good one.. idealism isn't fantasy. Idealism isn't dead.

Don't Let Your Life Pass

2008-05-26T21:41:00.006-04:00

That last post marks the three hundredth post hear [<---yep, that's a typo. This is me appreciating it. Also, winking] at YaOP (this is 301 for those keeping score). Most of them aren't very good--what with my learning how to write narrative and trying on voices and such--though, there are a few that I am a little proud of, or, other people liked them well enough.

Here are a few posts I like (and/or maybe other people, too) or carry a big fat solid mark on my timeline:

Old Love
I've linked to this one a couple of times, one was fairly recent considering the the time of year. I think what I'm proud of most with this letter is that I said what I wanted to say and the person whom I needed to have read it actually read the damn thing. Kudos, Nena.

All Dogs Go To Heaven
My dog Maggie died shortly after we moved to Brooklyn. Rereading this is and knowing that she left nearly two years ago feels strange, because, I could have sworn that she was around much more recently. Brighton's getting older (they were sisters) and my mom says her muzzle is greying. Can't wait for the winter holidays..

M.O.N.E.Y.
Marie had just joined a sonnet lovers group on LiveJournal and challenged me to write a sonnet for every sonnet she wrote. We didn't last very long.. actually, I think the ball's in my court now.. Huh. Guess I should get on that!

2005:01:10
This is one of my favorite pieces of creative non-fiction (of those I have written, of course). I was pretty much an emotional void and sometimes that can be an amazing place for creative output (if you can pull yourself out of your bed, turn on the lights, open the windows, turn off the track of Moonlight Sonata you've had going for eighteen hours straight for the fourth night in a row and sit yourself down to write.) This actually took me several days to write, like one or two paragraphs a night. Sometimes craziness can work. If you can make it work.

To Sleep.. to sleep... to sleep
I'm not always tired when I head to bed with Marie. Or sometimes I am tired and I don't sleep. When that happens, I usually end up dumping my brain onto the keyboard and when I heft it up and heave it back inside my skull, something like this post is what's left and I can usually crawl back into bed and the many many dreams that lie in wait.

down, down, up or down?
I think this still applies. Maybe it's always supposed to be there, above and behind me. Hanging from the rafters clawing at the backdrop. I dunno, really.

LOST: A Voice Which Was Mine And Yet Not
I fuckin' left my trumpet on the F train when I stepped off at York St. This was just after I had been promoted to Manager at the poster company and just before the shit hit the fan and I left the post company (after my obligatory three months, thank you). Sad day for music and me. Happy day for someone else?

This Is Something Near To My Heart
I left the poster company and all of the success I had built up over the winter. Major fall. For The Lose. Fail.

freewrite v32207
I do this thing, when I'm walking through my thoughts, where I have a conversation with a portion of myself I believe to be honest. I like the results and I like that the dialogue kind of makes me look like a crazy.

Get the Gears Going
This post, at seven comments, ties for second place for most comments ever on a post. I've never topped eight.

I Said I'm All Alone
Here's one for memorializing.

Don't Stop Believin'
(skipping ahead several months...)I've been working on this whole figuring out what it's like to be me thing for a long time. This is ongoing.

Well, I'd like to continue handing out archival material from my blog for everyone to read. However, I started writing everyday and there is just too much. I think there are some really good ones in there since the beginning of '08, I just wanted to take out a core sample so the few people who stumble upon Yet another Online Profile can get a glimpse at its humble, erratic beginnings. No worries, though.. I'm not doing a movie based on YaOP, now that I've crested the three hundred mark and I'm still going to be moving to a new blog in the very near future. I just need a scanner. Happy remembering, all; I remember you.

Time and Time Again

2008-05-25T22:18:00.003-04:00

Wrote everything I was writing on paper, yesterday. In case you were wondering.

Had a beautiful Saturday and a picnic in Central Park with Marie and one of our closer friends. I was mostly internalized throughout the day, having a difficult time getting outside of myself (I even journaled in a book and avoided throwing something on the old blog.) My mood wasn't sullen or depressed, although, I probably could have drifted into melancholy without much effort. I don't mean to offend our friend or Marie when I am disconnected and I think disconnection comes across as offense to most people. This is understandable, since social situations are often about relating and communicating and when I'm on the bridge of my submerged-humanable, observing the intense pressures of a world teaming with incredible creatures beyond my comprehension, I have a hell of a time interacting with someone other than me, while I am taking in the wonders abound.

I'm starting to accept that, sometimes, this is a way of being that I access.

The social disconnect has cultivated my artistic and overall creative sensibilities, a love of reading and an intense focus for subjects that interest me, even if, at the same time, separating me from my peers in school and work and even family. I really appreciate the advantages disconnecting affords me and I'm learning to practice the skills involved with socializing. I'm still not great at it. I'm definitely still learning.

I suspect that my limited application and understanding of social-behavior has led me to hobble along, crippled when I am posed to maintain even superficial relationships. Especially superficial! Which have the possibility to be the most important and useful connections I can make. When nurtured appropriately, the superficial relationship can be the seed waiting to grow into deep roots. I often forget to accept the possibility surrounding these shallow friendships and come off as aloof and closed.

I still have an issue with people who are willing to intimate friendship by only dealing with me in positive ways, forgoing any direct conversation of what I do that bothers them in our relationship and if I may be willing to address those issues. Allowing their thoughts about me to get more and more negative without working out their perceivable aggravation. How am I supposed to trust you if you don't trust me enough to talk? We have very different points of origin and very different paths to travel. I'm still working through the rocks in the gravel; I'm still working toward steady ground. Ground that I've got to give myself, over and over and over again and again until the neuro-pathways which remember positive ideas of myself are strong enough to outlive the connections which have kept me down since I was a wee tot and continue to keep me down.

I've Got Kitty Pride

2008-05-23T19:22:00.004-04:00

Pork and Beans by Weezer

I love Weezer.

One of my more salient memories of listening to Weezer is when our entire fifth grade (three classes) went out to rollarskate/blade. I remember keeping myself a little less than half the oval away from the girl I'd been crushing on since third grade. Undone was blasting on the speakers. I'm still undone.

I still love weezer.

Listening Post

2008-05-22T09:58:00.001-04:00

Sunburnt Hand (Original, Danny Tieger with Julia Nunes)

Orange Crush

2008-05-21T21:37:00.003-04:00

Had a few mimosas and some anti-pasti for lunch with my friend Piper, the recently arrived brooklynite from the SL-hood. We at this restaurant in the LES--whose name escapes me--on St Mark's just east of avenue A.

The free mimosa with lunch was definitely a deciding factor. Who needs a name when there are free mimosas?

It was cash only, so Piper left for an ATM. While she was gone, our server (Ani) asked me if we were over twenty-one.

"Yes. Although, if you want to see our IDs that okay, too. We're from Utah; We're used to getting carded."

"Utah? Right on! What part?"

This isn't the usual response I get when I mention my originating stomping grounds. She is immediately intriguing. Her ex-boyfriend went to Judge Memorial, class of '01, and she skied Snowbird back in two-thousand five. They ate lunch at Training Table and had breakfast at the restaurant inside the Salt Lake Regional Hospital.

Someone entered and presented herself and a résumé asking for work. Then, as the first left, a second also presented herself and a résumé asking for work. Piper hates her job, so as the second was leaving I whispered, "You should leave your number." Throughout the meal, we kept up the conversation with Ani. What is the pay like? What are you reading? She asked us what the lemon tart was like and when she was making another group's free mimosas, she made an extra and gave it to Piper on the house. I took it upon myself to drink most of this mimosa because I thought that Piper had had enough. I'm so noble.

Our tip was generous and Piper scrawled out her number and left it with the money on the table. Good times. We also wandered toward a bicycle shop where Piper purchased a red mixty cruiser from the eighties. She seems to like it. I wonder if she'll give it a name.. You hear that, Piper? What's the name, eh? Alright. Sleep is soon. G'night.

It's May Twenty Oh Eight

2008-05-20T23:02:00.004-04:00

So, I've been mostly successful with my latest commitments to myself: drawing and songwriting everyday. I find that I tend to have an easier time songwriting when I forget that there are other people around me and that when I draw, I have to forget there are other people around me to access all of the talent and experience I've garnered over the years.

Fascinating? Yes. To me.

I've also noticed that when I access that head-space (I can physically perceive a change in my head and body) and practice my photography gathering stock photos to draw from or just to have, the pictures I take then tend to be better than when I'm in a more social mood. I'm not really sure if that makes sense to anyone else but me. [I actually just shrugged.] Oh, well.

Yesterday, I had a wonderful bike-ride to work taking the west-side of Central Park's outer loop. The air was cool and fresh having just been cleansed by the rainstorm over the weekend; the pollen count was swirling into the sky since the rainstorm hydrated all of New York City's plants. Though My spring allergies were acting up--even through the screen of a generic Clariton--my ride was unencumbered and still very much enjoyable.

The loop was closed to car-traffic, opening-up the road to less crowded running, skating, walking, and cycling-traffic. There was a cycling pair which entered the park just after me who seemed to be training for a race or ride or something. They wore spandex and rode on carbon-frames with more than one gear to get them going. As we were climbing the hill, curving around a long bend in the road, one of them said, "Alright, I'll meet you at the bottom of the hill." I look to my right and see a very fit, older bicyclist downshift into a climbing gear and slowly, with steadily increasing pace, overtake me and then the hill. I could hear his riding partner pedaling behind me and so I decided I didn't want him to pass me, too, and pushed harder until I was catching my breath on the other side of the climb having kept him behind me.

It became a game to try to keep the slower guy--whom I perceived for the sake of this ride to be a less experienced rider than myself, whether he is or is not--behind me as we hit the next hill and the next. I love competition. I love competing with myself. I love competing with people even though they don't know I'm competing with them. I love competing with people who DO know I'm competing with them. I love being challenged and if it turns out that my skill/etc wasn't enough to top theirs/its, then I'm still happy for the experience. I love it.

This guy got ahead of me on the third incline. Not for very long, though, and I eventually left them behind for a new competitor who passed me on the left with very large thighs (actually, everything I could see was pretty muscular) and a fancy many-geared bicycle (for clarification, my bike has one gear). Turns out he had some really quick sprints and was then very slow up the remaining hill--I don't think he was very good at utilizing his energy. Of course, he may not have known we were racing and if he had known, then he may have decided to bike differently. Whatever, it's my fantasy. On that last stretch before my exodus from Central Park, I got ahead and stayed ahead (defeating him!) dismounting when I reached the pedestrian thoroughfare leading to Columbus Circle. Where they were holding a "Wii Fit!" demonstration. I was kind of late to work so I didn't stay to see what the hell these shiny people in white jogging-suits were up to playing games (and gettin' healthy!) on 59th St.

The rest of my ride in to work was quite pleasant and easy. My bike didn't throw it's chain once! Contrast that with the ride home, in which my chain was thrown four times in twenty short-blocks (gotta get that fixed somehow). Then, when I reached the northern portion of Central Park and the road exiting to Lennox Ave, I squeezed my front (one and only) brake and it very abruptly popped off of my bicycle frame to dangle haphazardly from my handlebars. It was a good thing that there was only one car around and it was ahead of me. I was already standing on the pedals, so I swung my right leg around the seat and wedged my foot between the frame and the tire as I steered myself to the sidewalk and grass away from the asphalt and cars.

Somehow, somewhere, I lost the bolt attaching the braking mechanism to the frame.

I sat down for a bit and enjoyed the pre-storm daylight as it began its decent into evening. Marie called and bragged a bit about how she was going to beat me home. I sulked. Just kidding. Then I picked up my bike and rolled it to the one hundred-tenth street stop on the two/three lines, shoved myself into a rush-hour traffic train car and made my way home. I've decided to just take the damn bike to a bikeshop, tell them I want brakes and then tell 'em to fix the bike so it doesn't throw the damn chain so easily! Dammit. Good riding, that was.

Everything

2008-05-19T23:49:00.000-04:00

Where has the time gone? Time doesn't go so much as it pulses... apparently through our cerebellum, which is where the tempo comes from... tap, tap, tap.

You May Be Right

2008-05-18T23:11:00.000-04:00

I wrote a letter on paper today. It's sitting enveloped and sealed in more paper, waiting to be sent with tomorrow's post. I really like getting mail and I suspect that there are other people who would like receiving mail through the US Post, too.

I'm going to buy some more stamps.

This will assist in alleviating the boredom I could suffer since I decided to draw everyday. I also decided to engage in the process of writing songs everyday. I may not finish a song everyday, I will, however, work on one. My day was full today and that's pretty cool. I am wiped out, though and really must get to sleep. Ciao

Rambling

2008-05-17T22:52:00.003-04:00

I expect to be distant. I expect to be vague. I expect to be insufficient as your friend or family member. I expect you to be wary of myself. I expect to be forgotten. I expect a very large and elaborate world domination plot to be known to the would be dominated world sometime soon. I expect the walls to bend in and out and swirl before my eyes. I expect the reality I live in my head to be not at all much different than the one I live with the rest of you.. (ooh, that's getting complicated.) I expect to be living that reality soon enough. I expect to be alone, even when I have everyone's attention. I am expecting sleep.

Fortune Cookie Say circa05.14.02

2008-05-16T23:09:00.000-04:00

Six years and a couple days ago I wrote this (still the first draft, too. I rarely reworked what I wrote back then. This one was much more of a monologue than a poem.)

[In the key of Tevia from Fiddler on the Roof]

Maybe, life is moving to fast?
Don't misunderstand me: I am very pleased with the way that life has blessed me; Happiness hasn't felt so good!
So, where is this going?
We don't want to move without direction,
or purpose...
Yet.
We may not want to think too far ahead,
but on the other hand
I have not been this excited about someone in a very long time! I can be offered a smile an accept it knowing that the smile is legitimate.
So, where is this going?
Life planted its seed of ideas:
"You and your spouse will be happy in your life together."
We shared a kiss... Well, a couple of times! [chuckles]
Now I am thinking, life cannot move too fast if you are working to grow with it.
So. Where is THIS going?
Wherever we take it... [shrugs]

All Dressed In White

2008-05-15T15:09:00.007-04:00

Except yesterday didn't go as planned. So, my expectations are rearranged and delayed a couple of weeks.

This is frustrating.

Since we were in Manhattan, Marie and I got some grub at bakery/deli/soup place on Astor next to Broadway and then hit up the St. Mark's Bookstore to ogle some radical books.

Woah, just flashbacked to TMNT for a second. I had no intention of doing that.

Seriously though, they sell a lot of books that aren't sold at your regular, safe, corporate (and some independent) bookstores. Great stuff. We actually bought something this time, which is rare for us. Unless you count that book buying escapade in New Hampshire.. where we brought home twelve or fifteen. Never mind that. [The sack of bookalicious booty from New Hampshire included Cryptonomicon by Neal Stephenson. go read now! St. Mark's Bookstore from yesterday included What It Is by Lynda Barry and some other book that Marie has in her possession right now so I can't reference the title or author.]

However, while the action was delayed, the ideas surrounding the action have grown stronger and are pushing me to act on other ideas, as well. I'll keep you posted.

Everything's Goin' My Way

2008-05-14T10:25:00.003-04:00

Gotta remember to drink lots of water today.. My head is clear.

I'm setting a course and checking my sails, the weather looks good and water is fine.

Gotta remember that suppressing myself is only stressing myself.

It's your thang. Do what you want to do.

Gotta shave. Heh. I amuse myself, this is a very good sign.

Alright, I can feel it. Perking up now. The day is here and the time has come. Talk about standing with your convictions, here I go.

And as far as I can tell, I'm not quiting the band.. I'd like to start one.

Blow Up The Outside World

2008-05-13T22:33:00.005-04:00

Tomorrow, I'm going to be closing a major life door. This is one of those things I never blog about (for the puffins who may want to know.) However, I've been conscious of this possible path for MANY years. It's a decision that is very much an adult (making decisions for the rest of my life) action.

I don't think I'm at all comfortable talking about this here. I've got family and friends who may never have known that this is something I've wanted or even considered doing.

I'm going to write about it, though. Maybe not here. Maybe just for myself... or on a new anonymous blog somewhere else. Maybe. I've also been less interested in blogging for the past week or so. I'm not pulling the plug, or taking a break (yet?). I'm just acknowledging that there are some aspects of blogging I do not enjoy at the moment.

Thanks for the kudos on the previous freewrite.. I think I'm going to try to put melody under those words.. and see if there are other words that would like to come and play. Goodnight all.

freewrite v1.11.08

2008-05-12T23:30:00.000-04:00

I've been foolish in serious situations
infatuated by a lonely heart in dreaming
wishing for a lover to return to me
and hold on so I can hold them back
meanwhile, I let my world escape the sun
forgetting all about the warmth I once felt
losing, bit by bit, the sweetness of a memory
as the roughened edges close in

DO IT!

2008-05-11T23:15:00.000-04:00

For no real reason at all. Enjoy!

ARGH

2008-05-10T23:51:00.000-04:00

My mom's in town and Marie and I just took her to The Chorus Line (with Mario Lopez) on Broadway (for cheap! Kinda...)

I'm really tired. Also, I was freakishly ill the past couple of days and I'm glad I posted that picture yesterday before I was really sick because I didn't consider my computer as a form of enjoyment at all. More writing later.

-Mario Lopez has really toned up, is hot, can dance, still overacts. His character's name is Zach. Slater's playin' Zach! Ha! Anyway.

-All of the dancing was really good. Strange show. Still good.

-restaurant after the show: Food, blech. Music, Great! Drinks, great!

I'm glad my mom's in town for mother's day. How cool is that? Much love.

Just Call Me 'Chip'

2008-05-09T00:24:00.003-04:00

MMMMMmmm-HHmm! Look at those young studs! Rarr! Oh, you bet I was underage! Jailbait, baby! Yeah! [sits down. Is done. Goodnight!]

If I Can Make It There

2008-05-08T08:17:00.005-04:00

Recounting my dreams is usually really difficult for me because I tend to have a slippery grasp on the timeline. It's like I get all of this fantastic imagery and dialog with possibly some amazing, complex arrangements of songs (I am literally composing in my sleep) and I forget all about time. Time flies when you're having a good time? Hey, that probably applies here! Only, I'm not always having a good time in my dreams. Anyway, it still applies.

A few snippets:

-Marie and I were walking together. Inside? The ceilings were very tall, the room was long and not very deep. Like a television studio. And its physical properties would change every so often (time!! sigh). R.E.M. started pouring out of a speaker somewhere and in a line of their lyrics I heard them mention Maxwell's Demon, which is mattio's band. Marie and I turned to each other and smiled.

-There was a really strange obstacle course involved with the room.. I don't really feel like trying to explain it.

-After the obstacle course, I found myself in UT somewhere and then I ran into my brother (because, logically, I had spoken with my brother last night about how I won't be seeing him again until December. He said that I shouldn't see any pictures of him until then because he started his weight-loss program right after I left and he should be at his ideal weight right at the next time we see eachother.) He looked great! He was a stick (like he was in highschool) and healthy looking. The side effect of being healthy, though, is growing back all of the hair he lost? At that point, he basically began to transform in front of my eyes. Really subtle changes, until he was seven feet tall, his neck was two feet long, his arms were half a foot smaller than they are now and all of his hair (now remaining, because he lost some after he grew it back.. in the dream) had turned white. He seemed self-assured that this is what he wanted and I was just trying to accept that he was making his own decisions about his health and how he wanted to be.

So, snippets. I get these dreams every night and everyone of them is as vibrant as the one(s) I had the previous night. They don't always involve mutant brothers, however, they can't all be incredible. Oh, wait. They can. Because they're dreams and no one else has my dreams but me. Yoga. Then cleaning. Momma-C is arriving tomorrow and just wants to be a part of it, in old New York.

Whatever Will Be

2008-05-07T23:25:00.005-04:00

I've still got lots to write about, I just don't feel like it at all. My head implode. Seriously.

I'll probably tackle one of the Meme posts tomorrow after I clean the entire house to prepare for my mother's arrival on Friday morning.

Also, I should probably go run a special errand tomorrow and get an external harddrive to back-up the contents of THE MACHINE so that when the fan gives out and my computer fries, I'll have content to transfer to the new amazing Machine I'll be putting together soon after its predecessor kicks the bucket. Which is soon. Five years old, this machine is.

Bleh. The household feels like bleh, today. That sucks.

OH yeah. Go read these excellent questions.. There are many.

Sleep Now, Please

2008-05-06T23:40:00.002-04:00

I've really got to head to bed.

with slight of thought
where insight is lost
I watch you barrel through
nearly, everything you do.

I Knew That Red Awning Looked Familiar!

2008-05-05T18:22:00.003-04:00

Looks like our dentist's building is a really exciting place to be sometimes:

http://gothamist.com/2008/05/05/man_killed_by_o.php

Yes, my dentist is okay. His practice is on the ground floor and not in the elevator mechanical room. Yes, I still have to schedule a routine check-up aside from all of the work that's been done on my teeth in the recent months. Give me a break, eh?

Yes It Goes On And On My Friend

2008-05-01T15:19:00.003-04:00

Now Marie and I are onward toward the city of that statue that kinda says "love." We got pictures of it last time and I'll link to them when we get back from THIS trip to Philly.

I'm really busy getting things together to get out the door so this is going to continue to be a short post. Also, I'm back to paper blogging, only this time I'll fill up the space here with some of the stuff I write there. or not, because what I write might be songs and you'll have to wait longer to hear them. Ciao!

I Love You So Much

2008-04-30T09:11:00.005-04:00

There Must Be An Angel

Chasetopher, will you move to NYC and be my drag queen? I'm serious. Hell, you don't even have to be MY drag queen. You could just stand on stage in a pretty, slinky, sequined dress and sing pop-dance tunes. I know you've been dying to express yourself this way. I'll be your back up band! Please?

Also, Cats.

2008-04-30T08:59:00.000-04:00

It's ART, Dammit!

2008-04-30T00:46:00.002-04:00

Excuse me, THIS ONE is much much better. For seriously.

Uh, One More Thing

2008-04-30T00:00:00.000-04:00

I promised a video of silks in that last post. I forgot, so here it is:

CrazeeHorse: Rebecca and Donovan, performed to the 5th Element's Lucia di Lammermoor/The Diva Dance

You Could Be A Part-Time Model

2008-04-29T23:27:00.004-04:00

Today I:

-Went to work in the afternoon.

-Chatted on IM with -- dare I say? -- a friend from the RMO. She wanted my address so she could return my copy of the last Harry Potter book. Then she updated me on some interesting RMO drama that we've both stayed out of, which is good and a little sad for the people involved in the drama. I'm sure it wasn't half as serious as some of the drama I've been at the center of. Also, she might be interested in aerial silks with me! I think I'm getting closer to being able to play a little with the RMO again, I just don't think I'm there yet.

-Drooled over getting into aerial silks (there's video at the end of this post, don't you worry).

-Heard that I may be getting a much more substantial position at my awesome transportation organization job, due to my boss leaving in June. Crazy!

-Engaged in a comment/blog conversation on right and wrong with someone who believes in right and wrong. Ki: I'm not done, either, I just had to work today instead of thoughtfully write out my ideas into your comment space.

-Nearly busted a stereo at work by knocking it off a ledge. It should be fine.

-Had a footlong sandwich in Union Square. Mmmmmm, people watching. One thing I really love about Union Square is that people actually unite there! I watch them on their cell phones as their peeps get closer and then they smile really big and wave and then bounce off to see their friend! Gotta love people watching.

-Felt the tinge of stagnation burn-out. This is the same tinge that used to take-over after three months in jobs I had no love for. Let's hope this new thing with my boss leaving and me getting a more involved/higher paying (please?) position plays out so I can begin the process which will have me coasting on the crest of my dreams...

Burn, Baby, Burn

2008-04-28T22:48:00.006-04:00

Six years.

I wasn't even going to go to her birthday party. My social preference to be alone was running at its peak which usually makes me a mostly anti-fun person to be around. I consider my options. The envelope I was holding in my hand was very cleverly scrawled upon in dipping-ink, emulating the calligraphy styles of the Olde British Isles. I pulled a folded card from inside: an invitation to a Shakespearian murder-after-dinner party at an old friend's. I was to play Caliban.

Ugh, I really didn't want to go. I just wasn't in the mood for people.

I stood in front of my mother's vanity by the window and looked out at the fresh spring evening playing in our backyard. The air was clear, if not highly pollinated, and the sky was bubbling with leftover sunlight from afternoon and some straggling clouds, loafing over the avenues and foothills. My dogs are sleeping behind the rose bushes next to the fence, no doubt enjoying the cool dirt next to their thick northern winter-coats.

What's the big deal? It's Mary's birthday. She's turning eighteen and a lot of good people are going to be there. The event is mostly a gigantic improv-fest and you LOVE improv-fests! Come on, it's going to start in less than a half-hour, if you don't get moving now, you're going to be late.

At this point in my life, I had begun to experiment with changing my mind about the world. Things didn't have to be bad or good and I began to recognize that some seemingly horrible things have led to some incredible and mostly positive results. Everything was connected through "energy" and I was beginning to believe in the power of individual creatures. My internal reality was a constant hum of philosophical bickering between the sullen and the soulful. Looks like soulful was picking up its second wind in the third round and kicking ass Bruce Leroy style.

I think I took the bus up to capital. I'm pretty sure Alex and Andy arrived after I did.

Anyway, when I got there, Mary and Becky handed me a pair of tights and some Shakespearean garb borrowed from a local theater. Now, sullen (a.k.a. Sho'nuff) was still in the fight, keeping me down, however, this was so fucking cool I couldn't help but have a good time. The tights accentuated my thighs and calves, just like all of the comic book heroes I had been working so hard to become. I had pantaloons. Awesome.

It took some time, yet eventually everyone arrived and changed into their costumes and persona for the evening. The party was going well and I knew everyone there except Nena, whom Mary had met during Theatre Camp at the Shakespearean Festival in Ceder City. Nena had offered few words, however, she attracted my attention despite her quiet demeanor. Actually, Nena's shyness in the moment probably gave me more reason to like her immediately; I can relate to the comfort in remaining quite at social functions -- especially when I don't know anyone. Not to mention how very cute she was with her hair up in a bun, wire-rim glasses framing her eyes. Seriously.

Yet, I was decidedly single. So, all of the attraction to and noticing of this strange, beautiful girl wearing glasses wasn't going to poke any holes in my resolve to remain alone (so I could figure out this mess I had brewing about inside) getting me to make a pass or three. This resolve did allow me to secretly steal ~~long stares~~ glances in her direction whenever I thought no one else was noticing. How very coy.

The game was a lot of fun and the ending was quite ridiculous. Overall, I believe soulful/Bruce Leroy succeeded in their plot for me to have a good time. Reluctantly, the party trickled out and all of the weird people began to head for their homes. Andy and Alex seemed to have cornered Nena in the sitting room and had somehow gotten her to give them her hotmail address in exchange for their's. I was sure one of the two were going to try to get her to go on a date with them, the way they were going on about the email exchange. I figured it could be good to make a new friend, so I joined the three's information trade.

She had a really great email address, too.

I had no idea we would talk for hours and hours over instant messenger, or email back and forth with the frequency that we did. Which turned into our first date (I hardly recognized her with her hair down and contacts in. YOWZA. Also, when I met Carol who just visited), which turned into "I love you" which turned into our blossoming future, which (after a year and a half to the day) turned into the fiery end of our romance, WHICH has turned into an honest and amicable friendship.

Six years. Here's to everything that happens in six years.

For The Longest Time

2008-04-27T23:32:00.000-04:00

A friend made me feel pretty special last night by calling me right after she got engaged. We don't talk much and that's partially because I think there's still an emotional rift between us since we stopped dating each other. Even still, she called me to share in her moment and I felt honored.

Go read THIS because it still applies.

Also, I've been breaking things. I believe my breaking things and the official engagement of my ex-lover are related only because they share a time-line in my history. Apparently I'm not allowed to have nice things.

Paperback Writer

2008-04-26T23:50:00.001-04:00

"I think it would be cool to read about your morning routine." -Ki

See The Meme for a little context.

The first phonelarm-clock goes off around six thirty a.m. I usually grab the damn thing, shove it in Marie's direction, let her hit the snooze and then place the phonelarm-clock back on our make-shift nightstand.

The second phonelarm-clock goes off before the snooze finishes on the first one. Marie lazily sleeps through the first minute of beeping before sitting-up to hit the snooze function on this phone, too. I lay there waiting for the first phone to go off again, signaling that if we don't get Marie up and going for the day, she'll be out of a job and I'll have to get a regular forty-hour nine to five and neither of us really wants that.

Once I get up and leave Marie to her own conscience, I'll throw on some pants and hit the bathroom. Hey, you asked. Then I begin gathering Marie's lunch and possibly dinner if she has her evening classes to attend after being a teacher all day. Most of the time, we make just enough dinner for the household -- Me, Mattio, and Marie -- to be satisfied and for there to be a little left over for the next day. This is how we prefer to do things. If there isn't enough dinner left over, I'll see if there's any rice stored in the fridge and hope (on my life) that there are beans available. Let's say there are beans. I dig out a pan -- more likely I'll wash one -- and set it on the stove, turn up the flames on the front burner and throw a very large spoonful of margarine on to melt. Then I take the cold, cooked rice from its container and let it cook in the faux-butter. If we have the fixin's, I'll wash and cut up some snow mushrooms, half an onion, and mix the beans (usually black) in with the rice. Now, I sprinkle some powdered garlic over the whole mix and let it cook like that on a high heat for several minutes, while I fill her water bottle, put a two to three pieces of fruit in the lunch/dinner bag and, on rare occasions, a little bag of Cheese Nips or chocolate. We use glass pyrex containers to store our food now. These are much easier to clean when Marie forgets to take her empty lunch containers from her bag before the next day. The plastic is porous and holds the tastes and smells that are augmented by being sealed up at room temperature or hotter all day. Glass is forgiving.

Marie's lunch gets put into a sack inside her shoulder-bag and we push her out the door and into the world. We make really goofy faces and hand signals (like, longhorns while saying "Shmoo" at eachother. Don't ask) until the doors shut and I can see her walking by our window toward the elevated tracks.

At this point, I consider what I'm doing for the day. If it's Monday or Tuesday, I'll get myself something small to eat, either cream cheese and jelly on toast with second round grounds (or if I'm feeling REALLY ambitious, I'll clean out the french press and let some fresh grounds steep) and count the minutes before I have to leave to get to work on time. If a book I'm reading has it's papier claws around my throat, I'll probably settle into a book coma until I stumble back into the ebb and flow of the interactive reality(s). Otherwise, I'll catch-up on blogs, news, or comics to whittle away the time.

I have a new morning routine that I'd like to start. First, I'll stretch like I used to do when I was practicing martial arts everyday. Second, I'll do some strength training using my body weight (e.g. sit-ups, push-ups, hand-stand push-ups, dips, one-legged squats, wall sits, deep horse-stance, etc) and cool off with some minor stretches. Third, a bike ride around the neighborhood. Fourth, music or art warm-ups. Guitar notation study and sketching. Then songwriting and comic work.

Yeah, this is what I'd like to be doing. I like being a ninja and I'd like to be a useful ninja as the years go on. So, that's my usual morning routine. Yep.

Justice, My Ass.

2008-04-25T11:52:00.002-04:00

This pisses me off.

"Three detectives were found not guilty Friday morning on all charges in the shooting death of Sean Bell, who died in a hail of 50 police bullets outside a club in Jamaica, Queens."

Fifty bullets in an innocent and no charge? Bullshit.

3 Detectives Acquitted in Bell Shooting

Note To Self: Guinness Doesn't Fix Everything

2008-04-24T23:52:00.001-04:00

I'm heading back from Brooklyn -- no sleep 'til -- stalking through the underground passages of Fourteenth Street Union Square toward the 4, 5, and 6 platform with trains headed north-ish to the Bronx. The tunnels are warm and I'm glad I pulled on a sleeveless shirt before I left six hours ago with Piper and her things.

Spring is here. My right eye is itching underneath my contact lens. For a Thursday night, there are a lot of people on the platform. My stalking turns to evasive action while scanning the openings between the people for a place to roost while I wait for the five.

There are a pair of skinny, pale legs stretched out over the ground and a torso wearing a light jacket and a skirt propped up against one of the dirtiest and grimiest pylons in the world. They are obviously drunk, though awake and disoriented. There are three people hovering, seemingly making sure everything is okay.

I alight on a perch several feet from the scene so as to give the players enough room to continue the drama.

A scruffy looking fellow wearing a tophat, a t-shirt, blue jeans and an over-coat attended to the drunkard for just a few minutes before exiting up the stairs. The poor soul suffering in the midst of alcohol poisoning somehow lost what little color there was left of their pallor, very much to the dismay of the person standing behind them, and expelled a fair amount of fluid from their stomach and onto the front of their blouse. The attendant quickly tried to salvage the once clean blonde locks of hair while the sickness continued to rage on just slightly away and onto the floor.

Attndnt A "Is there a someone around that can help you out?"
Poor Soul "My boyfriend was around..."
Attndnt B "Good, call the boyfriend."

Let me remind everyone that we are underground. You cell phones are less phone-like here.

Attndnt A "Maybe we can get you out of here."
Attndnt B "We can take her up that way [gesturing toward the stairs our player with a top-hat used to exit]"
Attndnt A "No, there are a couple of cops that way."

As if on queue, two NYC police officers enter from stage left.

PO 1 "Are all of you together?"
Attndnts A, B "No, no, no."
Attndnt A "No, we're not together. She says her boyfriend was around somewhere... we're just trying to help."
Attndnt B "You have some water! [noticing the water bottle in PO 2's hand]"
PO 2 "It's just ice."

End scene. Well, at least, I mean, this is where I walked away.

Welcome back to New York City. Hi guys. It's been a few days. Some of you might be wondering about the whole Blog365 thing. Yeah, well according to the rules, I can journal on paper and still be counted. In any case, it counts in my book. Marie and I just spent several days in Philly (during the democratic primaries), and there really wasn't the option of the internet. I don't think I'll be putting what I wrote over those days up here, for now. I'll just start from right now and go from here.

Yeah, welcome back to NYC. When Marie and I got back to Port Authority, we both walked by a big guy sitting on some stairs, his face completely bloodied. A police officer was dabbing at the wound without latex gloves. Welcome back!

Philly was great. I'm going to go to bed, now, though. Bon Nuit!

Systems Short and Other Delays

2008-04-19T16:47:00.003-04:00

Had even more fun last night and didn't get back to the UBER ritzy hotel on Park Ave the three of us were staying in the for the night until five a.m. I am exhausted and will have to type later. This next week I'll be in Philly with Marie, kickin' it old school just like Rocky Balboa and Ben Franklin. Don't know how much computer access I'll have, however, I'll write every day on paper and I'll post the date of the paper entry in the title of the blog post. As per usual.

Much love, gots packing and dinner to go do et cetera.

Quick Update

2008-04-18T13:45:00.001-04:00

Having fun in Manhattan with friends! Be well, all.

Mischief v.o4.17.o8

2008-04-17T19:38:00.000-04:00

Written by me in my visiting -- now transplanting to NY -- friend's journal:

[at the end of a long list of To Acquire]

- Shackles for the bedroom wall.

Sigh, no time for substance.

Filthy Haiku

2008-04-16T23:41:00.001-04:00

Guests arriving soon
The apartment is not clean
No time for blogging

Listen for the Green Tamberine Riff in 'Hello and Goodbye'

2008-04-15T22:44:00.003-04:00

Marie and I listened through the entire Evita movie soundtrack on saturday and I still have it stuck in my head. The current occupier of me -- the people -- is this song.

I'm really tired due to the amazing amount of time I've spent on a computer today. Goodnight!

Freewrite On The Train v.o4.14.o8

2008-04-14T21:58:00.002-04:00

Take your time.

Cut away the excess and trim down your probability. That's exactly the line of thinking which will get you killed. Believe the world's too much and you just don't give enough. this belief will eat through you. I won't give! Suck what you need from me through the tubes you put inside me. Pull the person from the bleeding heart which pumps arhythmically into you ahnds and wait for me -- an empty shell -- to crumble. To disappear as if nothing was all I ever was in the first place.

Just take your time.

This isn't the caterpillar's chrysalis I'm working my way through the sticks and thorns and leaves to the fertile soil where I will bury my head seventy-two inches down. I can't wait to blot the sunshine from my sight. The shadows cast from such explosive light swear to me I will be swallowed and then I will be all alone.

The Obligatory Post

2008-04-13T18:43:00.004-04:00

I have a couple errands to run tonight, like shopping and laundry, so let's keep this short.

Thanks to everyone who has responded to The Meme thus far! I now have seven long posts in the works that I plan to put up in the next couple of weeks. If you still have something you would like to add to The Meme, then comment on any post. Just make sure I know what you're talking about.

Don't worry about whether someone else has already mentioned whatever it is you would like to hear about, because, I'll just add you to the list of requests for any recurring topic or theme. Also, feel free to mention more than one topic.

Ciao!

And There She Is

2008-04-12T00:37:00.002-04:00

The world is very strange.

Childhood was also strange. Adulthood isn't much different.

Did I mention the world being strange?

Get Up Off Of That Thing!

2008-04-11T23:22:00.006-04:00

Tagged by Ki.

1. 10 years ago:

That would be April 11, 1998. I was finishing up the eighth grade. I was about as awkward as anyone can be without having actually lived in a hole or a closet for their entire lives. I might have relinquished my five year crush on the pretty girl I've been going to school with for about the same amount of time and traded it for what would be my first outright romantic rejection at the end of that summer. Ms. Jones went off to a summer camp right before I sent my confessional email. She invited me to see the movie 'Armageddon' with -- and a friend -- before logging in and opening up the bleeding_heart.exe I had attached. The movie was really just two-hours of torture because I didn't understand how to operate the drama level knobs of my world. Afterward, she got home and checked her inbox and didn't call me back.

Three or four years later, we talked about this instance and that's when I found out about the whole of the story in the above paragraph. Marie never liked her. Ever.

I turned fourteen over the summer and spent my first few months at the high school rival of the high school I actually wanted to attend. My own personal enemy -- a relationship which was established when we were twelve -- also attended this high school and three of my five classes. Three years of simulated military at my high school of choice was definitely worth changing schools. I love you Andy and Ki. I enjoyed NJROTC, mostly. I also enjoy every minute I am a civilian rather than a grunt, maggot, flyboy, or other.

The fall beginning my eighth grade year I met the girl I asked the next fall if she'd like to go out with me. My first reciprocated romantic relationship. My first day at my high school of choice, the NJROTC group was attending a field day at one of the local military training grounds. I think we faked my permission slip because of such short notice (my mom didn't sign a single permission slip in high school. It's not like she was mean. I just didn't tell her about those things) and we all crammed into the yellow bus headed for sweet repelling action. Since I knew like three people in the group, I wasn't smart enough to sit with one of them before they found their one people to sit with and that got me a seat with The First (Hi!). We didn't know it yet, but, we would become inexplicably intertwined.

We were rehearsing for a fund raiser in the form of a murder after dinner -- written and directed in house by one amazing personality I am proud to know today -- when ML began doing what she did best at the time: instigation. ML told me that The First (Hi! Is that a good name? Or would you rather I use something else?) thought I was cute. Writer/Director's boyfriend was an asshole and tried to buy her love with some flowers. She wouldn't have it and gave them to me when I decided to ask The First out. That night(?), all of us walked up just a few blocks to the cemetery (gorgeous place!) and I very awkwardly asked if she would go out with me.

What a year. Ten years... Also, that was when I lost touch with one of my very favorite cousins until this last summer when she came to mine and Marie's wedding. The First is now (happily, yes?) married to one of my best friends from high school and I'm still waiting for Writer/Director to admit that she's going to just buckle down and be a writer even though she's a mom, too. I love you!

2. 5 things on my to-do list today:

-~~Wake-up.~~ No, seriously, I got like four hours of sleep.
-Eat. I'm still working on this one.
-~~Wait for word from Marie that she's completed and handed-in her master's project~~ (GO YOU!!)
-~~Work for eight and a half hours building a website and getting paid to do so.~~
-~~Blog.~~ (Damn you Blog365!)

3. Snacks I enjoy:

-Quesadillas
-Cheese Nips
-Tortillas rolled up with cream cheese and hot sauce with a side of plain yogurt I can dip them into.
-Burrito! 14 burritos! 72 burritos!
-rice and beans cooked in butter.

4. What I would do if I were suddenly made a billionaire:

I'd lament at the incredibly irresponsible actions taken by our federal government and (more importantly) the Federal Reserve (a private corporation) which would result in the changing of our currency to reflect the grossly inflated relationship to other more prosperous economic systems of the world. Or, I'd keep five hundred million to take care of my life and donate the rest to an organization, program, person, whatever, that I believe would do some real good.

5. 5 places I have lived:

-Salt Lake City, Utah
-Santa Clara, Utah
-Sandy, Utah (I'm pushing it because I don't have five)
-Brooklyn, NY
-Bronx, NY

6. 5 jobs that I have had:

How's about I skip this one because I've had somewhere along the lines of twenty-five jobs since I was sixteen. I will say that I loved being a stagehand, a barista, a floral delivery driver, a carpenter in the Catskills, a music store clerk (instruments), a do-all grunt for an organization I respect (still work there!), and a martial arts instructor. Plumbing was interesting. I still work for the Inflatable Circus and that isn't half-bad. I'd like to live from what I create: art, music, and writing. AND looks like I didn't skip that one. Oh, well.

7. 5 Things people don't know about me:

-My (frequent?) gory, violent dreams don't bother me.

-I wish I was naked all the time. No joke. And I know there are places for people "like me" and that's just missing the point entirely.

-When you prick me I bleed.

-I used to believe I had super powers (e.g. heightened senses, a la Daredevil) and totally broke down and screamed when the bell went off as our class was heading out to recess.

-I secretly still believe I have super powers. No joke.

Tag! (without obligation or expectation): Reader, Marie, The Pope, and Your Mom.

PS
Don't forget about this other more important Meme"

By the Moon and the Stars in the Sky

2008-04-10T21:28:00.004-04:00

I swear. If the weather is great tomorrow, then I am riding my bike. I will wear my lycra biking shorts and a tank-top. I squandered my biking opportunity today and this was just too disappointing. Vive la Velo!

P.S

Don't forget about the Meme.

I'm Drawing A Blank

2008-04-09T23:44:00.003-04:00

Thanks Ki and Lovesuddenly for biting on the meme. However, I haven't given up on the rest of you who have yet to respond. Even if you tend to lurk here undetected (that is, until you admit to my mother at your fiancée's bridal shower that you read my blog all the time. Jake. You guys look great together in your engagement photos, by the way. Congratulations!), my comments section allows even people who have chosen to live a life without a gmail or blogger account to remark on something witty or enriching I have scribbled onto the page here at YaOP.

So, feel free to speak up! Doing so gives me fodder for writing and encourages me to produce more engaging, illustrative, and lengthier stories. This takes a village. If you have something for the meme, post your response in the comments section on that post.

Marie has become quite dependent on giving my computer love and affection and will continue to ~~monopolize~~ diligently complete the appalling amount of work required for the final project of her Master's degree. Saturday is the beginning of a new era of low-stress related happiness.

Oh, here she is now. Kicking me off. Goodnight all.

This One Requires Reader Participation

2008-04-08T21:39:00.004-04:00

Seriously, guys. Don't disappoint.

"Meme

Everyone has things they blog about. Everyone has things they don't blog about. Challenge me out of my comfort zone by telling me something I don't blog about, but you'd like to hear about, and I'll write a post or comment about it. Ask for anything: latest movie watched, last book read, political leanings, ~~thoughts on yaoi~~, favorite type of underwear, graphic techniques, etc. Repost in your own journal so that we can all learn more about each other.

Ask away!"

Okay, so do this now. Don't procrastinate! If you wait 'til later to come back to this, you'll just forget and then lose interest. Or maybe vice versa. Aaaand... begin.

Congestion Pricing: What's Next? I Don't Know.

2008-04-08T12:18:00.003-04:00

Old and mean Shelly "Oy beuh Poyret" Silver might say that, as it stands, congestion pricing in New York City is dead. However, I believe that the proponents and supporters of creating a healthier and safer city through charging tolls for those who decide to drive on the short, thin streets of Manhattan are already working on plans to adjust the current proposed congestion pricing legislation and try again.

Congestion pricing is still being experimented with -- London seems to have the highest visibility and (no surprise here) the most controversy -- as a workable way to reduce traffic and the affects thereof (e.g. car pollution, idling traffic, automobile related deaths, crowded city and highway streets). I think one of the reasons London's congestion charge is so controversial is because cameras are being used to enforce the charge and fines incurred if a driver entering the congested zone refuses to pay or hasn't registered their vehicle with the CC system.

This was a sticking point for many during the first few incarnations of the CP proposal in NYC and when this was changed to an E-ZPay system (a form of electronic toll collection).

There are many ways of taxing -- or charging -- the individuals who would be driving in and out of the congestion zone(s) and there will be many more developed as public awareness of the affects of widespread automobile usage increases and urban development and planning continues to build on the knowledge that is being gained by these semi-early stages of sustainable urban architecture. (See Jan Gehl for more info)

Gothamist just put out a great postmortem response on the recently deceased CP and the players involved:

http://gothamist.com/2008/04/08/congestion_pric_9.php

I'm sure this isn't the last we've seen or heard of Congestion Pricing. My hope is that the evolution of CP can keep up with the political and media machines that are tugging and pulling to meet with the standards of their own agendas. If the plan presented is anything other than solid (unbiased research backed by people and institutions who live eat and breath current urban planning and developement) then it will fail, once again. I believe a paradigm shift is on the horizon and time will tell what that shift will bring.

I Ain't Heard No Fat Lady, Just Fat Cats

2008-04-07T15:30:00.003-04:00

"...congestion pricing died on Tuesday in a private conference room on the third floor of the state Capitol.

It was there that Democratic members of the State Assembly, who control the chamber, held one final meeting to debate the merit’s of Mr. Bloomberg’s plan, ultimately voting—in secret—against the idea. The opposition was so overwhelming, said Sheldon Silver, the Assembly speaker, that he would not hold an open vote of the full Assembly, though many Republicans were supportive of Mr. Bloomberg.

“The congestion pricing bill did not have anywhere near a majority of the Democratic conference, and will not be on the floor of the Assembly,” Mr. Silver said following his meeting with fellow Democrats.

Today was the deadline for the Legislature to approve a congestion pricing plan so that the city could qualify for $354 million in federal grants for traffic mitigation and mass transit aid."

[Sigh]

My favorite part is when Sheldon Silver decided that Congestion Pricing wouldn't even make it to the floor of the Assembly. Democracy. Right.

Privilege Meme

2008-04-06T23:50:00.002-04:00

1. Father went to college
2. Father finished college
3. Mother went to college
4. Mother finished college
5. Have any relative who is an attorney, physician, or professor
6. Were the same or higher [socio-economic] class than your high school teachers
7. Had more than 50 books in your childhood home
8. Had more than 500 books in your childhood home
9. Were read children's books by a parent
10. Took lessons of any kind before you turned 18
11. Took more than two kinds of lessons before you turned 18
12. The people in the media who dress and talk like you are portrayed positively
13. Had a credit card with your name on it before you turned 18 [but I had a debit card]
14. Your parents (or a trust) paid for the majority of your college costs
15. Your parents (or a trust) paid for all of your college costs
16. Went to a private high school
17. Went to summer camp

18. Had a private tutor before you turned 18
19. Family vacations involved staying at hotels

20. Your clothing was all bought new before you turned 18.
21. Your parents bought you a car that was not a hand-me-down from them
22. There was original art in your house when you were a child [we were the artists]
23. You and your family lived in a single-family house [eventually]
24. Your parent(s) owned their own house or apartment before you left [still paying mortgage]
25. You had your own room as a child [eventually]
26. You had a phone in your room before you turned 18 [bought myself a cell phone]
27. Participated in a SAT/ACT prep course
28. Had your own TV in your room in high school
29. Owned a mutual fund or IRA in high school or college
30. Flew anywhere on a commercial airline before you turned 16 [age 15—bought my own ticket for school trip]
31. Went on a cruise with your family.
32. Went on more than one cruise with your family.
33. Your parents took you to museums and art galleries as you grew up
34. You were unaware of how much heating bills were for your family

South Bronx

2008-04-05T20:26:00.001-04:00

This is my neighborhood, peeps. These kids are bright and interested in the world and believe in possibility. They are the change they want to see in the world. Take thirteen minutes and have a listen.

Feelin' Stronger Every Day

2008-04-04T01:19:00.001-04:00

Today, I took the 7 to Flushing/Main Street in Queens, passing Shae Stadium and the site of the 1939 and 1964 world fairs. I don't know if a 1989 world fair was held there.

Apparently, I landed smack-dab in the middle of Little Korea. This is partly familiar, having grown up studying Taekwondo from several Koreans and partially learning to speak Korean (translated e.g. "Side-kick Board Break", or "Single Knife-hand Board Break") and writing "Ricky" in Korean lettering on my dobok (martial arts uniform). However, there were also lots of Chinese, Japanese, Italian, Latino, and English all over the Roosevelt and Main intersection I was standing at, waiting for my ride and part-time employer to take me to the Inflatable Circus's prospected location.

The Inflatable Circus is back for another season of letting children run through a short, filthy obstacle course and then jumping--flipping whenever they think they can get away with it. Lil' bastards--inside a very tiny castle. I will prowl the grounds as the Fun Sentry, making sure the tender lumplings are having more fun than injury and also more life than death.

[I was going to link to other blog posts about The Inflatable Circus (aptly named by Marie just yesterday) and found that I have neglected to write about my involvement with this inflatable children's carnival. Must have been while I wasn't blogging much. Huh, I just double checked to be sure.]

Our set-up area is in the gymnasium located on the third floor. There are stairs. Notice how I didn't say 'elevators'. The inflatables weigh one hundred-seventy and three hundred-fifty and are stored for travel in rolls about five feet high. We have a hand-truck. It is old. The task of bringing the games and toys up to the third floor is actually a lot of fun and I tend to look forward to the exercise. When it comes to lugging the heavy rolls of mesh and vinyl up the stairs, I try not to think about whether the task is daunting or feasible. Let's just get it done, shall we?

The smaller roll is actually fairly easy and barely gets my heart rate up to a cardio worthy rate. The Ringleader pulled up-top on the dolly while I pushed up from the bottom and together we made short work of Les Petite Castle, hoisting it to a proper resting place inside the gym.

The two of us tried The Obstacle Course on a small flight, more like a hop, of five stairs and that broke some sweat on my brow. The movement is a bit like a front squat, only my arms are up in front of my body pushing, instead of folded over like Aladdin's genie. This would be like an assisted squat of probably around two-hundred pounds. We brought in our larger friend, "Peter the Great". He's a big guy and does janitorial work for the school. Ringleader and I took up the bottom work and Pete took the top. This was great until the hand-truck's tire began to peel itself from the rim of the wheel. However, we persevered and managed to force our will and the roll up three flights of stairs and into the gymnasium. We then decided to take a short break to cool down.

[Ringleader eyes me suspiciously]

"Your sweating. Go take a break."

"I'm fine, really."

"You're sweating! Go on and take a break to cool down."

"That's what sweat is for!"

"Okay, we'll both go down and take a break."

I liked today, because it showed and reminded me that I am still quite strong and my body is responsive to the heavy work I'm putting it through (even though my diet is very close to vegetarian status).

We got the games and the rides in place and ~~tomorrow~~ later today there will be a ton of stir-crazy children running wild through our fantasy dreamland. I will be sleeping well, come evening. Cheers!

Photohunt - High

2008-04-03T07:35:00.003-04:00

click to giganticize

Photohunt

Every Part of the Buffalo, Buffalo, Buffalo, Buffalo

2008-04-03T01:42:00.002-04:00

Marie found this on one of her MSN binges earlier today:

Haute Cuisine, Head to Tail

In all honesty, I can't wait to have me some gourmet brains. Is this what being a zombie is like? I like to imagine zombies being just as articulate as a living human, only they speak in their own reduxerific language.

"Aaarrrgggh."

"Is that so?"

"gggUUUUUURRgghh!"

"You don't say!"

"BRAAAIINS"

"Yes, I'm a little famished myself. How about weGAAHgh-"

[munch, munch, munch]

"Aarrrgh."

Five More Seconds And I'll Be There

2008-04-02T23:58:00.000-04:00

The corridor I entered was long and drawn out with few exits or entrances. There was an end-or was it the beginning?-the size of a pinprick from where I was standing. I glanced upward at the ceiling sitting several body lengths above me. Fluorescent lights buzzed and glared every six or seven feet, casting a pale, toxic hue on my skin.

I think to myself

When do I begin? The obvious answer isn't even some stupid brainwashed response like 'now', rather, 'whenever you decide.' You talk to yourself and trust what you are told by yourself and that still isn't enough for you to trust yourself. Do you know something I don't? Of course, where do I begin?

I start to walk the five and a half-minute hallway and notice the walls are covered in images, collaged in some form of hieroglyphic storytelling. When I turn to follow what has been carefully placed on the walls, I am amazed to see I am back where I started at the beginning, or end, of the corridor. Facing the corner where I began, I decide to walk backwards. The hallway lengthens from the corner just as every hallway should, until, without any alteration to my course, or decision to stray from the straight line on which I am walking backwards, the walls, ceiling and floor all bend to my right and a new corner has formed.

I stop, turn around, and find the hallway has changed in appearance very little and the length hasn't dwindled at all.

Say Goodbye to the World that you Used to Know Above

2008-04-01T21:01:00.004-04:00

[ Elevator buzzes, doors open. ]

"Going down?"

"uh..."

"Are you going down? We're going down."

[ Person in elevator gestures around the little room at no one at all. ]

"Actually..."

"Look. We don't have time for this and there are people waiting on other floors and I'm sure they aren't quite as patient as I am being with yourself."

"Well, I don't know. You see-"

"Didn't you hear what I just said?! Are you getting on, or are you staying here?"

[ The person operating the elevator said the word 'staying' with such spot-on disdain that their pronunciation could only have been practiced aloud. ]

"..."

"Okay."

Too Early For Blogging

2008-03-31T08:07:00.003-04:00

Got this from Open Culture: A painting elephant. There are also painting gorillas and a certain species of monkey living in the Congo which has started sharpening sticks (e.g. spears) in order to stab into trees to get at the animals living inside. Mmmmm, lunch. The notion that humans are the only beast capable of or utilizing conscious thought processes is arrogant and idiotic.

Now I'm wondering if all cave paintings are actually done by some species of homo sapien or are they the results of creative pachyderms?

Also, Ki: You may want to check this out... just thought of you when I saw them (over at Neil Gaiman's journal):
The Clarion Foundation
Viable Paradise

I Want You To Show Me

2008-03-30T23:44:00.003-04:00

Whew! I've been running on a bit of a roller-coaster. Yes, I was an asshole. And I probably am an asshole, you just don't listen to all of the thoughts I have running through my head. Thanks for your consideration, though.

These are the last days of YaOP. I might move over to air.castle.invention by tax-day (April 15th, mark your calendars! Do your taxes?). If things aren't going the way I like, then I'll keep posting here until.. well, until I like the way things are.

Paying off the car loan on Monday. Calling mother to celebrate after seven p.m. eastern. Goodtimes!

April is nearly here. Easter really threw me off this year. Stupid leap year.

Uh, I have nothing left to say today. Goodnight and be well. Also, if you're going to embark in the risky and dangerous world of blogging, do so with care and be mindful of your responsibility to the world and the intertube(s). That is all.

[COUGH]

2008-03-30T02:47:00.002-04:00

There's an irritation inside of my throat which will NOT be assuaged, no matter how I vary my coughing or clearing technique.

I'd much rather be sleeping.

Maybe I can fool myself into falling asleep and therefore ignoring the damned itch. This would be wonderful and warm.

Everybody: A-S-S-H-O-L-E! [Makes grunting dog sounds]

2008-03-29T23:12:00.003-04:00

I don't really feel like saying anything right now.

I deleted an important file while setting up a.c.i. and now I don't have permalinks.

Had a very vivid dream that was pretty awesome and I'm trying to write it down.

Going to close some doors on monday.

Also, I'm an asshole. Go fig.