I've decided that even though Chris Kataan, Will Ferrel, and Jim Carey are really funny and talented, their SNL sketch "Night at the Roxbury" is stupid and not funny. Too many kooks spoil the soup.
I've also decided that the song "Tessie" by the Dropkick Murphys makes me wish that I
a: played the piano
b: was Irish (or at least knew weather or not I was Irish)
c: Lived in Boston
d: gave a crap about baseball
e: all of the above.
HINT (this helped me pass a test recently): It's always "all of the above"
I feel like everything in my life could go horribly wrong at any given moment. I want a lot of things that I didn't used to think I could have. I want to be a writer. I want to be a successful writer. I want to be the type of person who stands up for justice, and can back up what he says with what he does. I want to be...not a hypocrite. I want to fall in love. I want to hold hands with someone special, and think all day about how lucky I am, and marry her, and have children with her (in that order). I want to try to make something of myself, rather than just stumbling around, getting whatever I can for no effort. That's so dangerous, to want something. To have expectations. I hate dissapointment so much. I've had a lot of it lately, and I really, really want to hope for something that is real. Something I can actually have. I just had a conversation with a good friend last night. She has expectations. I thought her expectations were either really naive or really...really beautiful. Is it better to try for something amazing, something miraculous, something you don't deserve, or to just not try, and learn to be grateful for what God gives you, even if it's not what you expected? Are our most beautiful dreams just setups for our most tragic dissapointments? Or did someone give us those dreams for a reason? As I typed those words just now, my heart started to beat a little faster. Too afraid to hope, but even still...there is something. There is something about my dreams that my cardio-pulminary circuit understands independent of my brain. I don't want to know the future, but I kind of want to know why I have dreams. Are they so I can interpret reality or escape from it? Will I ever see my dreams realized, or will they be the only things to comfort me on dark nights when I'm old, and alone, and the same person I was when I wrote this? I shudder to think. Wow. I didn't expect to get this deep. I went from "Tessie" to depressey. Ah, stupid jokes. I guess I'll always have those, and I'll always have God, and maybe dissapointment isn't as bad as wasted potential. I have potential. Huh. Also something I thought I could never have. Who am I anyway, to assume that everything is going to go wrong from the outset? It's only been 23 years.
"A life left half behind
Though no longer blind
I have yet to see
I'm not the boy
I once was
But I'm not the man I'll be."
-mewithoutyou (Nice and Blue)
I guess no future can be unendurable as long as I am not alone.
I am not alone.
25.2.08
From Saturday
The following thoughts occured to me on Saturday, after I got off work.
Grocery shopping today. I need a weeks worth of groceries. I need to save lots of money getting them. I've kind of been in LAUP budgeting mode ever since the accident. I just want to be responsible with what I have, and what I have needs to last me until the end of the month, which, thankfully, is getting closer. I don't want to ask my parents for money. I know them too well. They would give me too much. My mom, for instance, would go without everything, just so I wouldn't have to go without anything. I have almost no savings left, and I'm lucky even for what I do have. So, I'm looking for bargains. I'm looking for bargains with superpowers. I'm looking for super bargains. I checked the day old bakery rack at Albertsons. All they had was pie. The last thing I need right now is pie. I decided to travel all the way down to the Grocery Outlet in Buena Park. The Grocery Outlet is weird. They sell all the products that no one would buy. They're like the thrift store of food, except nothing there is used (I don't think). You can't just buy peanut butter and jelly at the Grocery Outlet. You have to buy Extreme Chunky Peanut Butter, and Blueberry/Apricot Jelly. An eye opening experience. This is really a country full of creative people. I couldn't help but laugh at some of the food product ideas we've come up with recently. Creative. Not at all practical, but creative. I wanted to spend $30. The cashier rang me up. $30.47. I suppose I could find 47 cents somewhere else in the budget. I guess I succeded. I ralized something today. These last couple of weeks have been difficult. I'm not just talking about all the money I've lost because of the accident. It's more the comfort, the sense of security that I know my needs are taken care of. It's really difficult to not know how much money you can spend on things, to have to bow out of dinner out with friends "just to be safe." This is my experience these last couple of weeks, and taking care of things myself has been exausting. I need God to take care of me. What I realized is this: God is taking care of me. I have an appartment to live in, and my roomates aren't perfect, but I love them. I have a wonderful family. I have food. Enough to eat for the end of the month. I won't be hungry, naked, or homeless. Everything else is a luxury. It kind of reminds me of my childhood. I saw the inside of a lot of Grocery Outlets when I was growing up. We just barely had enough to make it month to month. But we made it. I remember one day, after my Dad had gotten paid, he took Timmy shopping with him, and came home a little depressed. I think it's harder for men when they can't provide everything they want to for their families. My mom asked him what was wrong, and he went into this long story about how Timmy followed him around the store, thanking him emphatically for everything he put in the cart. "Milk? Thank you, Daddy, thank you! Oh? Bread? Thank you Daddy, thank you! Cheese too? Thank you Daddy, thank you!" Dad said it wasn't like he didn't provide enough food for his family that Timmy should be so grateful for something that everyone has, for the bare minimum. He said he felt like a neglectful parent, and from the way everyone in the grocery store was staring at him, he wasn't the only one who thought that. I know what it's like to be hungry. To be tired of eating the same thing every meal because it's all you have. Timmy, little 6 year old Timmy, he was right. It's a miracle that we have food to eat, and a Daddy that gives us those things. He promised to feed and shelter us. That doesn't mean we get everything on our terms. It means we will be taken care of. That's something to be grateful for, no matter what form it comes in, don't you think?
Thank you Daddy, thank you.
Grocery shopping today. I need a weeks worth of groceries. I need to save lots of money getting them. I've kind of been in LAUP budgeting mode ever since the accident. I just want to be responsible with what I have, and what I have needs to last me until the end of the month, which, thankfully, is getting closer. I don't want to ask my parents for money. I know them too well. They would give me too much. My mom, for instance, would go without everything, just so I wouldn't have to go without anything. I have almost no savings left, and I'm lucky even for what I do have. So, I'm looking for bargains. I'm looking for bargains with superpowers. I'm looking for super bargains. I checked the day old bakery rack at Albertsons. All they had was pie. The last thing I need right now is pie. I decided to travel all the way down to the Grocery Outlet in Buena Park. The Grocery Outlet is weird. They sell all the products that no one would buy. They're like the thrift store of food, except nothing there is used (I don't think). You can't just buy peanut butter and jelly at the Grocery Outlet. You have to buy Extreme Chunky Peanut Butter, and Blueberry/Apricot Jelly. An eye opening experience. This is really a country full of creative people. I couldn't help but laugh at some of the food product ideas we've come up with recently. Creative. Not at all practical, but creative. I wanted to spend $30. The cashier rang me up. $30.47. I suppose I could find 47 cents somewhere else in the budget. I guess I succeded. I ralized something today. These last couple of weeks have been difficult. I'm not just talking about all the money I've lost because of the accident. It's more the comfort, the sense of security that I know my needs are taken care of. It's really difficult to not know how much money you can spend on things, to have to bow out of dinner out with friends "just to be safe." This is my experience these last couple of weeks, and taking care of things myself has been exausting. I need God to take care of me. What I realized is this: God is taking care of me. I have an appartment to live in, and my roomates aren't perfect, but I love them. I have a wonderful family. I have food. Enough to eat for the end of the month. I won't be hungry, naked, or homeless. Everything else is a luxury. It kind of reminds me of my childhood. I saw the inside of a lot of Grocery Outlets when I was growing up. We just barely had enough to make it month to month. But we made it. I remember one day, after my Dad had gotten paid, he took Timmy shopping with him, and came home a little depressed. I think it's harder for men when they can't provide everything they want to for their families. My mom asked him what was wrong, and he went into this long story about how Timmy followed him around the store, thanking him emphatically for everything he put in the cart. "Milk? Thank you, Daddy, thank you! Oh? Bread? Thank you Daddy, thank you! Cheese too? Thank you Daddy, thank you!" Dad said it wasn't like he didn't provide enough food for his family that Timmy should be so grateful for something that everyone has, for the bare minimum. He said he felt like a neglectful parent, and from the way everyone in the grocery store was staring at him, he wasn't the only one who thought that. I know what it's like to be hungry. To be tired of eating the same thing every meal because it's all you have. Timmy, little 6 year old Timmy, he was right. It's a miracle that we have food to eat, and a Daddy that gives us those things. He promised to feed and shelter us. That doesn't mean we get everything on our terms. It means we will be taken care of. That's something to be grateful for, no matter what form it comes in, don't you think?
Thank you Daddy, thank you.
23.2.08
Songs About Lilies
I've been thinking about confidence a lot lately. Confidence and playlists. I believe that the two are invariably connected. I listened to some hip hop yesterday. I don't normally listen to hip hop. Hip hop is about confidence. To be a rapper, confidence is as essential as depression, self loathing, and not having a girlfriend is to being a rock star. I think you might see where I'm going with this one. I feel like I've become a lot of the things in the music that I listen to. I'm not completely sure why this is. I mean, do we become like the music we listen to, or do we choose the music we listen to because it reflects who we really are? I can't really answer that, even though I once argued the latter with a woman from my old church for like 2 hours. I guess I just can't tell anymore. One way or another, I do believe that the music you love says something important about who you are. So, I'd like to see if I can tell anything about myself on the basis of what I listen to most. So, here's what I came up with. The top ten most listened to songs in my library, complete with summaries of the lyrical content:
1. The Cure For Pain (Jon Foreman)
Summary: The world is full of pain, and no matter how hard I try, I'm a failure. Only God can help me try again.
2. Kite (Copeland)
Summary: Love is like a kite; a small toy, distant, floating, tied to a weak teather. It could be beautiful, but we don't know if it will last.
3. Plat It Again Sam! You Don't Have Any Feathers (Manchester Orchestra)
Summary: I'm angry, and my anger made me fail the people I love. God forgives my, but I don't even think I believe in God. Even still, I'm begging Him to protect me, if he's real.
4. Foundations (Kate Nash)
Summary: I used to love you, but now you just annoy me, and I'm trying really hard to save our relationship, but I don't know why, because I know we're going to break up eventually.
5. But She Beat My High Score (Say Hi To Your Mom)
Summary: I thought maybe I was in love with this girl, but she is better than me at video games, so I'm breaking up with her. Plus, we can't really go out because she lost her coat at the dry cleaners (why do I like this song?)
6. Sic Transit Gloria...Glory Fades (Brand New)
Summary: He wanted love, she wanted sex. They had sex, and now he's being destroyed from the inside out.
7. Keep Your Body Broken (Andy Zipf)
Summary: I'd rather have my heart broken and be unable to move, because that's when God moves me.
8: Middle Distance Runner (Sea Wolf)
Summary: I want to love you, but I know I'm incapable, so just meet me halfway, and we'll pretend that this is going to work out. Let's just fool ourselves.
9. Concerning The UFO Sighting Near Highland, Illinoise (Sufjan Stevens)
Summary: Do we confuse visions of something holy and sacred with something silly, like a UFO sighting? Are we more likely to believe in aliens than God?
10. Friday I'm In Love (The Cure)
Summary: The work week isn't so difficult to get through if you have someone to love at the end.
Okay, so there it is. Not all of it applies, and of course these aren't the only songs I listen to, just the most I listen to. Although, I think this list says something about what I was saying before, about confidence, and me not having any. I think these songs tell me a lot about who I think I am, and what I think I'm capable of, how my relationship with God is, and what I think I deserve from life. I still love thiese songs, but I'm not sure I like what they say about me. Hmmm...
Having confidence and likeing yourself are really states of mind. Lesser men have tried to have both, and succeded. Why do I fail? I guess it's just easier to say you'll never amount to anything than to try as hard as you can, and have someone else tell you. I know I shouldn't care what other poeple say about me. The Bible says that God has already prepared for us every good thing we will do in advance, so that no one can brag about themselves. All that seems so far away though, when I'm trying to prove to people (not God) that I deserve to be where I am today, as I wonder myself if I do. I don't wonder, I know. I don't. I am insufficient and sloppy. I know that fully. But the one who restored me does not want me to think that way.
God, all I have is you.
But what else was it that I wanted?
I want to believe that the things He promised me were true, that I have a hope and a future, that He cares about me even more than the lilies of the field, whom he decorates in clothing finer than the wealthiest of kings.
Maybe I don't need to have confidence. Maybe I need to have faith.
1. The Cure For Pain (Jon Foreman)
Summary: The world is full of pain, and no matter how hard I try, I'm a failure. Only God can help me try again.
2. Kite (Copeland)
Summary: Love is like a kite; a small toy, distant, floating, tied to a weak teather. It could be beautiful, but we don't know if it will last.
3. Plat It Again Sam! You Don't Have Any Feathers (Manchester Orchestra)
Summary: I'm angry, and my anger made me fail the people I love. God forgives my, but I don't even think I believe in God. Even still, I'm begging Him to protect me, if he's real.
4. Foundations (Kate Nash)
Summary: I used to love you, but now you just annoy me, and I'm trying really hard to save our relationship, but I don't know why, because I know we're going to break up eventually.
5. But She Beat My High Score (Say Hi To Your Mom)
Summary: I thought maybe I was in love with this girl, but she is better than me at video games, so I'm breaking up with her. Plus, we can't really go out because she lost her coat at the dry cleaners (why do I like this song?)
6. Sic Transit Gloria...Glory Fades (Brand New)
Summary: He wanted love, she wanted sex. They had sex, and now he's being destroyed from the inside out.
7. Keep Your Body Broken (Andy Zipf)
Summary: I'd rather have my heart broken and be unable to move, because that's when God moves me.
8: Middle Distance Runner (Sea Wolf)
Summary: I want to love you, but I know I'm incapable, so just meet me halfway, and we'll pretend that this is going to work out. Let's just fool ourselves.
9. Concerning The UFO Sighting Near Highland, Illinoise (Sufjan Stevens)
Summary: Do we confuse visions of something holy and sacred with something silly, like a UFO sighting? Are we more likely to believe in aliens than God?
10. Friday I'm In Love (The Cure)
Summary: The work week isn't so difficult to get through if you have someone to love at the end.
Okay, so there it is. Not all of it applies, and of course these aren't the only songs I listen to, just the most I listen to. Although, I think this list says something about what I was saying before, about confidence, and me not having any. I think these songs tell me a lot about who I think I am, and what I think I'm capable of, how my relationship with God is, and what I think I deserve from life. I still love thiese songs, but I'm not sure I like what they say about me. Hmmm...
Having confidence and likeing yourself are really states of mind. Lesser men have tried to have both, and succeded. Why do I fail? I guess it's just easier to say you'll never amount to anything than to try as hard as you can, and have someone else tell you. I know I shouldn't care what other poeple say about me. The Bible says that God has already prepared for us every good thing we will do in advance, so that no one can brag about themselves. All that seems so far away though, when I'm trying to prove to people (not God) that I deserve to be where I am today, as I wonder myself if I do. I don't wonder, I know. I don't. I am insufficient and sloppy. I know that fully. But the one who restored me does not want me to think that way.
God, all I have is you.
But what else was it that I wanted?
I want to believe that the things He promised me were true, that I have a hope and a future, that He cares about me even more than the lilies of the field, whom he decorates in clothing finer than the wealthiest of kings.
Maybe I don't need to have confidence. Maybe I need to have faith.
February 15= Cheap Poetry Day!
Okay, so a few of y'all out there have requested that I post the poems from Cafe Verge on the 15th. Let me just warn you, though. If you didn't come to Cafe Verge, you totally missed out, because there were about 12 other quite amazing poets there, pouring their hearts out for anyone who would listen, not to mention the amazing painters and photographers spilling their souls out onto canvas, or letting them drip through a camera lens. This is just the tip of the iceburg. Also, I'm doing this by memory, and I don't quite remember the last one, so I'll post it up when I have a chance to look at it. Okay, here they are:
We Only Sow
Tiny fingers slide across
the tabletop where
a little girl has found herself
and an object
to hold her attention.
Little milk carton cut in half
filled with dirt and what will one day be
A rose?
A lily?
She'll have to wait.
These tiny seeds all look the same,
but patience is not a virtue
posessed by those with tiny fingers
that tap out hurried rhythms like morse code
spelling "come to me.
I don't want to be alone."
Impatiently, improbably
but she whispers
grow
grow
grow
as that frustrating,
half empty milk carton
inches closer to the garbage bin.
Little girl in grown up body
sipping a milkshake half empty
sitting across from...him.
The one?
She lost count.
And his eyes are darting back and forth
looking for someone else
who wants to hear about his job
car
friends
self.
And why? Of all the mounds of dirt to pick?
This one? With eyes to melt her worries away
and a mouth to bring them back again?
Her fingernails, now painted red
are tap tap tapping
on the tabletop once again
grow
grow
grow
"I don't want to be alone."
the tabletop where
a little girl has found herself
and an object
to hold her attention.
Little milk carton cut in half
filled with dirt and what will one day be
A rose?
A lily?
She'll have to wait.
These tiny seeds all look the same,
but patience is not a virtue
posessed by those with tiny fingers
that tap out hurried rhythms like morse code
spelling "come to me.
I don't want to be alone."
Impatiently, improbably
but she whispers
grow
grow
grow
as that frustrating,
half empty milk carton
inches closer to the garbage bin.
Little girl in grown up body
sipping a milkshake half empty
sitting across from...him.
The one?
She lost count.
And his eyes are darting back and forth
looking for someone else
who wants to hear about his job
car
friends
self.
And why? Of all the mounds of dirt to pick?
This one? With eyes to melt her worries away
and a mouth to bring them back again?
Her fingernails, now painted red
are tap tap tapping
on the tabletop once again
grow
grow
grow
"I don't want to be alone."
Spoiled
Hello leftovers!
I can see you there
in the back of my refrigerator
collecting dust and turning green
a little.
You were something once
carefully prepared
and sealed inside
your tupperware.
You looked so good
I was going to save you for a day
when I could enjoy you properly
and you couldn't have waited
a bit more patiently?
As I smelled that stench
from across the room
like patience expired?
Like sweaty feet
that never bothered to walk away?
Yet you're still here
taking up space
in the back of my refrigerator.
You're past you date
and spoiled rotten
best to be thrown in the trash
and forgotten.
As hard as it is,
I'll get the job done
and clean out my fridge
for the next best thing to come along.
So hello leftovers!
Hello and goodbye!
You looked good for a while
but you went bad in far too short a time.
I can see you there
in the back of my refrigerator
collecting dust and turning green
a little.
You were something once
carefully prepared
and sealed inside
your tupperware.
You looked so good
I was going to save you for a day
when I could enjoy you properly
and you couldn't have waited
a bit more patiently?
As I smelled that stench
from across the room
like patience expired?
Like sweaty feet
that never bothered to walk away?
Yet you're still here
taking up space
in the back of my refrigerator.
You're past you date
and spoiled rotten
best to be thrown in the trash
and forgotten.
As hard as it is,
I'll get the job done
and clean out my fridge
for the next best thing to come along.
So hello leftovers!
Hello and goodbye!
You looked good for a while
but you went bad in far too short a time.
14.2.08
Patron Saint of Dirty Subway Cars
I had a goal when I woke up this morning. To be a man. A man is tough, a man is in control, and a man doesn't have to call his mother (or anyone for that matter) to complain about his problems. A man can figure out a way to use public transportation to get from Fullerton to Sherman Oaks. I was going to prove that I was a man this morning. Or I was going to be horribly lost. For those of you who really want to know, how today wnet can be easilly split into four categories: The Bus, The Subway, Work, and The Train. Here we go...
THE BUS
I get free tides on all the OCTA bus lines with my ID card. I arrived at the bus stop on time, got in the bus, and got on my way. No problems. I wish all of life could be this way. Of course there was the issue of me being on the wrong side of the street when the bus came, and missing it, and having to wait in the frigid cold for almost an hour for the next bus to come. I was sitting on the bench, shivering, and staring at all the people in their cars. I'm pretty sure one of them pointed at me and laughed. I know I'm paranoid, and make stuff like that up all the time, but I swear I saw it. Laugh if you must. I finally got on the right bus, and wished the bus out of my life for now.
THE SUBWAY
I was listening to Copeland as I walked to the Metro station. Copeland is one of those bands that really turns you on to being in love. I turned them off. I don't want to be in love. I want to be asleep. The two can't exist side by side.That's all I have to say on the subject. There's something about the subway that makes my brain itch. I mean that in a good way. There's just so many different people, all of them together in the same dirty car, going a million different places. Comming from a million different places. For one moment though, like that instant before a firework explodes, everything is held together. Sometimes they talk to each other. Strangers! Strangers talk to each other? In this country? Only in the tunnels underneath the city can you find these crazy backward people who talk to each other. Two middle aged women fall asleep, their heads and shoulders resting in the perfect places to support each other. A 250 pound white teenager with shaggy blonde har chats it up with a tiny black woman with thick black glasses. A punk finds his seat next to a security guard. The guard pulls out a rosay, and starts to run his fingers across it slowly. He smiles. I wish I could feel God in something as tangible as a string of beads. I think I've always envied catholics for that. There's a man with an ebarrassingly large bouquet of pink and red heart shaped baloons standing in the corner. He's going to give them to someone else, so that she will have to be awkward and eimbarassed all night long. That way, they can share more in common. The subway is a brilliant flash of joy in an otherwise irritating day. I think I will ride it again sometime.
WORK
I've discovered something that I don't want to do with my life. I do not want to answer the phone. I do not want to tell someone named Peter Glasser five times in ten minutes that Someone named Susanne (One of three Susannes in the building) doesn't want to pick up her phone. I do not want to pick up that phone knowing full well that everyone on the other line expects me to be an expert on the 130 people on the building roster after working there for a grand total of 5 days. You know what else I don't want to do for the rest of my life? Food service. Or retail.
THE TRAIN
I must wear an invisible sign somewhere on me that says "don't help this man if he comes to you with a question." What I've learned about the people who work for Amtrak is that they don't talk a lot, but the sure do know how to read invisible signs. They like them so much, in fact, that they decided to use them for all the directions for departures. This has made me miss my train. The man at the questions desk tells me that there's a machine for tickets on the side of the building, but that I'd better hurry because I've only got 5 minutes before it leaves. With his extremely clear methods of both giving directions and speaking in hand, I somehow find said machine. I run. I make it. I'm going to make it the whole way. I'm in the train, litening to a song by the band Psapp called "Calm Down." It isn't working. This extremely large man comes up to me and asks for my ticket. I give it to him. He gives me a look of utter contempt, and tells me I have the wrong ticket. He tells me he's going to kick me off at the next exit. I tell him I didn't know how that happened, and I would gladly buy a ticket from him. He said they didn't like to do that. He asked me how I could have possibly bought the wrong ticket, and what was I trying to pull. I asked him (in my head) why "they" like to wait for the train to start moving before "they" bother to see if anyone bought the right ticket. I wondered (still in my head) if this whole situation could have been avoided if such a precaution were in place. The version of this man who is in my head is a lot less scary and a lot more understanding. The man said he would let it slide for six dollars. I gave him six dollars. I think I just bribed him. Anyway, the next stop comes up. Where, you ask? why, Fullerton, California of course. I want my six bucks back, but I head out the door silently. The man calls after me that he bets I pull stuff like this all the time, and that he thinks he recognizes my face. In my head, I respond back "Yeah, I actually spend money on a ticket, but then buy the wrong one, just to screw with your head. That's totaly something that's worth my time." Out loud, I say the same things that I'd been saying the whole time on the train; that I didn't know, that I'd never ridden the train before, and that I was sorry. But it didn't matter. It was over. I made it. I called HyounJun to pick me up because I was too tired to wait for the bus, and I didn't want to risk a fight with another person who thinks he's a cop because his uniform sort of looks like one.
So that's it. That was my day today. It's too late to call my mom to complain, so I guess I really am a man now. I've passed through the fire. Unscathed? Not exactly, but will I make the same mistakes tomorrow? Hell no! Katherine's giving me a ride tomorrow.
Moral of the story? Trust freinds, not trains, keep your best comebacks to yourself, and always, always, always ride the subway.
THE BUS
I get free tides on all the OCTA bus lines with my ID card. I arrived at the bus stop on time, got in the bus, and got on my way. No problems. I wish all of life could be this way. Of course there was the issue of me being on the wrong side of the street when the bus came, and missing it, and having to wait in the frigid cold for almost an hour for the next bus to come. I was sitting on the bench, shivering, and staring at all the people in their cars. I'm pretty sure one of them pointed at me and laughed. I know I'm paranoid, and make stuff like that up all the time, but I swear I saw it. Laugh if you must. I finally got on the right bus, and wished the bus out of my life for now.
THE SUBWAY
I was listening to Copeland as I walked to the Metro station. Copeland is one of those bands that really turns you on to being in love. I turned them off. I don't want to be in love. I want to be asleep. The two can't exist side by side.That's all I have to say on the subject. There's something about the subway that makes my brain itch. I mean that in a good way. There's just so many different people, all of them together in the same dirty car, going a million different places. Comming from a million different places. For one moment though, like that instant before a firework explodes, everything is held together. Sometimes they talk to each other. Strangers! Strangers talk to each other? In this country? Only in the tunnels underneath the city can you find these crazy backward people who talk to each other. Two middle aged women fall asleep, their heads and shoulders resting in the perfect places to support each other. A 250 pound white teenager with shaggy blonde har chats it up with a tiny black woman with thick black glasses. A punk finds his seat next to a security guard. The guard pulls out a rosay, and starts to run his fingers across it slowly. He smiles. I wish I could feel God in something as tangible as a string of beads. I think I've always envied catholics for that. There's a man with an ebarrassingly large bouquet of pink and red heart shaped baloons standing in the corner. He's going to give them to someone else, so that she will have to be awkward and eimbarassed all night long. That way, they can share more in common. The subway is a brilliant flash of joy in an otherwise irritating day. I think I will ride it again sometime.
WORK
I've discovered something that I don't want to do with my life. I do not want to answer the phone. I do not want to tell someone named Peter Glasser five times in ten minutes that Someone named Susanne (One of three Susannes in the building) doesn't want to pick up her phone. I do not want to pick up that phone knowing full well that everyone on the other line expects me to be an expert on the 130 people on the building roster after working there for a grand total of 5 days. You know what else I don't want to do for the rest of my life? Food service. Or retail.
THE TRAIN
I must wear an invisible sign somewhere on me that says "don't help this man if he comes to you with a question." What I've learned about the people who work for Amtrak is that they don't talk a lot, but the sure do know how to read invisible signs. They like them so much, in fact, that they decided to use them for all the directions for departures. This has made me miss my train. The man at the questions desk tells me that there's a machine for tickets on the side of the building, but that I'd better hurry because I've only got 5 minutes before it leaves. With his extremely clear methods of both giving directions and speaking in hand, I somehow find said machine. I run. I make it. I'm going to make it the whole way. I'm in the train, litening to a song by the band Psapp called "Calm Down." It isn't working. This extremely large man comes up to me and asks for my ticket. I give it to him. He gives me a look of utter contempt, and tells me I have the wrong ticket. He tells me he's going to kick me off at the next exit. I tell him I didn't know how that happened, and I would gladly buy a ticket from him. He said they didn't like to do that. He asked me how I could have possibly bought the wrong ticket, and what was I trying to pull. I asked him (in my head) why "they" like to wait for the train to start moving before "they" bother to see if anyone bought the right ticket. I wondered (still in my head) if this whole situation could have been avoided if such a precaution were in place. The version of this man who is in my head is a lot less scary and a lot more understanding. The man said he would let it slide for six dollars. I gave him six dollars. I think I just bribed him. Anyway, the next stop comes up. Where, you ask? why, Fullerton, California of course. I want my six bucks back, but I head out the door silently. The man calls after me that he bets I pull stuff like this all the time, and that he thinks he recognizes my face. In my head, I respond back "Yeah, I actually spend money on a ticket, but then buy the wrong one, just to screw with your head. That's totaly something that's worth my time." Out loud, I say the same things that I'd been saying the whole time on the train; that I didn't know, that I'd never ridden the train before, and that I was sorry. But it didn't matter. It was over. I made it. I called HyounJun to pick me up because I was too tired to wait for the bus, and I didn't want to risk a fight with another person who thinks he's a cop because his uniform sort of looks like one.
So that's it. That was my day today. It's too late to call my mom to complain, so I guess I really am a man now. I've passed through the fire. Unscathed? Not exactly, but will I make the same mistakes tomorrow? Hell no! Katherine's giving me a ride tomorrow.
Moral of the story? Trust freinds, not trains, keep your best comebacks to yourself, and always, always, always ride the subway.
13.2.08
Failure To Communicate
Okay
So
Here's the deal with me right now.
My car is wrecked, and racking up fines in the lot of a tow yard in Rowland Heights. My insurance is no help, AAA is no help, niether can I get more than an unintelligible mumble from the brilliant minds behind "Bob's Towing." The junk yard wants me to move my car to my house in order to pick it up. They won't explain why. I tried to call them today, to try and work something out, contingent on me calling one of the 200 people on my phone that can give me a ride with about 2 minutes notice. Unfortunetly, my call was rederected to Verison Wireless customer service, because of an unpaid bill. Since my Mother forgets her phone every time she leaves the house, I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who will notice this for quite some time. There goes another day, another daily fee, and I really don't have the time to deal with any of this tomorrow. Unless I cancel my internship. I could call in, but wait...oh yeah. I don't have a working phone. So I am here. Stuck. Worse than being on the side of the road, because I know exactly what this is costing me. And I don't have it. In fact, the only way this phone of mine worked today was so I could get a text message from my roomate telling me to pray for his girlfriend, because she's in the ER. Why was it again, that I was afraid of the real world? Oh yeah. That's right. Now I remember.
So
Here's the deal with me right now.
My car is wrecked, and racking up fines in the lot of a tow yard in Rowland Heights. My insurance is no help, AAA is no help, niether can I get more than an unintelligible mumble from the brilliant minds behind "Bob's Towing." The junk yard wants me to move my car to my house in order to pick it up. They won't explain why. I tried to call them today, to try and work something out, contingent on me calling one of the 200 people on my phone that can give me a ride with about 2 minutes notice. Unfortunetly, my call was rederected to Verison Wireless customer service, because of an unpaid bill. Since my Mother forgets her phone every time she leaves the house, I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who will notice this for quite some time. There goes another day, another daily fee, and I really don't have the time to deal with any of this tomorrow. Unless I cancel my internship. I could call in, but wait...oh yeah. I don't have a working phone. So I am here. Stuck. Worse than being on the side of the road, because I know exactly what this is costing me. And I don't have it. In fact, the only way this phone of mine worked today was so I could get a text message from my roomate telling me to pray for his girlfriend, because she's in the ER. Why was it again, that I was afraid of the real world? Oh yeah. That's right. Now I remember.
11.2.08
Febuary 15th = Cheap Chocolate Day!!
I'm in more of a silly than serious mood right now, which is strange, considering recent events in my life have been more of a serious nature. Instead of re contemplating my life in light of my extremely violent car accident, that put an abrupt end to my recent crisis of faith, here is what is on my mind right now:
Valentines day is thursday. I've never really been a fan. I've always saved a good deal of money around Valentines day as compared to my peers. My mom always sends me a card and tells me that I'm her valentine. Besides that, I've never really given it that much thought. But this year, as I prepare for that sprint-turned-long-distance-marathon called being single, I thought I'd take some music along for the jog. So here it is...my "I'm single and I don't give a flying front door one way or the other" mix. My favorite songs to hate on the good saint Valentine(complete with explaination). Join me? Why yes, you can.
1. Self Esteem (The Offspring)
I don't even need to explain this one. Every person over the age of 20 should know this song, should have this song, should sing this song in the shower. It's blissfully bitter, oh so angry. Awesome.
2. I Will Survive (Gloria Gaynor)
This has become a bit of a girl power song, but come on! It's a classic any way you slice it. And even if you don't think you know all the words, come on. You do. Sing with me..."did you think I'd crumble? Did you think I'd lay down and die?"
3. Never There (Cake)
When I was little, and my big sister would drive me places, I heard this song a lot. I always knew what it meant. Someone was about to get dumped. 'Cause he was never there...
4. I'm Lonely (But I Ain't That Lonely Yet) (The White Stripes)
Title says it all. Or, as my buddy Ryan McRae says, "It's better to be single than wish you were." Truer words were never spoken, my friend. He joins me this Thursday, as someone who doesn't wish he was single (because he already is)
5. I'd Rather Have (Manchester Orchestra)
"I would rather have /a broken arm, /than have my arms around you." Damn. Some girl really jacked this dude up a lot. Oh well, though. He wrote an awesome song, and got to be marginally famous. Good for him.
6. Me vs. Madonna vs. Elvis (Brand New)
"I will lie awake/and laugh before/and fake the way I hold you/ let you fall for every empty word I say." This song makes being a jerk sound like fun. If I wasn't so dead set on finishing last, I would probably try it.
7. My Friends Over You (New Found Glory) High school romances gone awry, all that awkwardness, and pettyness...ooh. not a good time. Pop punk ballads were the perfect ointment for my superficially wounded heart. Still feels pretty good today. Just a little immaturity to get me through the day.
8. Foundations (Kate Nash) I love this song. Especially how this waman delivers the entire story like she doesn't even care. It makes the whole relationship thing sound so silly, and the idea of being alone seem so...natural. Rock on, Kate
9.The Dirty Glass (Dropkick Murphys)
The word "Bitch" always makes me smile in this song. I know that's horrible, and I'll probably regret posting that in a few minutes, but in my defense, she doesn't seem like that great of a girl. Besides, it's punk rock. What do you expect?
10. Leave (get out) (JoJo)
This girl has an incredible voice, however you feel about the pop genre. Plus she's like twelve years old. So young, so angry. I love it. "You said that you/would treat me right/ but you was just a waste of time."
11. No More (Baby Ima Do Right) (3lw)
My sisters and I used to jam out to this song all the time. Deb and I still do, cause we're still single. "Know I'm not the one/ Say it again/say it-say it again..."
12. But She Beat My High Score (Say Hi To Your Mom)
Video games or girls? I guess sometimes it's a toss up.
13. U Remind Me (Usher)
I don't really know why this one's here...that's probably why it's in the bottom of the list.
Valentines day is thursday. I've never really been a fan. I've always saved a good deal of money around Valentines day as compared to my peers. My mom always sends me a card and tells me that I'm her valentine. Besides that, I've never really given it that much thought. But this year, as I prepare for that sprint-turned-long-distance-marathon called being single, I thought I'd take some music along for the jog. So here it is...my "I'm single and I don't give a flying front door one way or the other" mix. My favorite songs to hate on the good saint Valentine(complete with explaination). Join me? Why yes, you can.
1. Self Esteem (The Offspring)
I don't even need to explain this one. Every person over the age of 20 should know this song, should have this song, should sing this song in the shower. It's blissfully bitter, oh so angry. Awesome.
2. I Will Survive (Gloria Gaynor)
This has become a bit of a girl power song, but come on! It's a classic any way you slice it. And even if you don't think you know all the words, come on. You do. Sing with me..."did you think I'd crumble? Did you think I'd lay down and die?"
3. Never There (Cake)
When I was little, and my big sister would drive me places, I heard this song a lot. I always knew what it meant. Someone was about to get dumped. 'Cause he was never there...
4. I'm Lonely (But I Ain't That Lonely Yet) (The White Stripes)
Title says it all. Or, as my buddy Ryan McRae says, "It's better to be single than wish you were." Truer words were never spoken, my friend. He joins me this Thursday, as someone who doesn't wish he was single (because he already is)
5. I'd Rather Have (Manchester Orchestra)
"I would rather have /a broken arm, /than have my arms around you." Damn. Some girl really jacked this dude up a lot. Oh well, though. He wrote an awesome song, and got to be marginally famous. Good for him.
6. Me vs. Madonna vs. Elvis (Brand New)
"I will lie awake/and laugh before/and fake the way I hold you/ let you fall for every empty word I say." This song makes being a jerk sound like fun. If I wasn't so dead set on finishing last, I would probably try it.
7. My Friends Over You (New Found Glory) High school romances gone awry, all that awkwardness, and pettyness...ooh. not a good time. Pop punk ballads were the perfect ointment for my superficially wounded heart. Still feels pretty good today. Just a little immaturity to get me through the day.
8. Foundations (Kate Nash) I love this song. Especially how this waman delivers the entire story like she doesn't even care. It makes the whole relationship thing sound so silly, and the idea of being alone seem so...natural. Rock on, Kate
9.The Dirty Glass (Dropkick Murphys)
The word "Bitch" always makes me smile in this song. I know that's horrible, and I'll probably regret posting that in a few minutes, but in my defense, she doesn't seem like that great of a girl. Besides, it's punk rock. What do you expect?
10. Leave (get out) (JoJo)
This girl has an incredible voice, however you feel about the pop genre. Plus she's like twelve years old. So young, so angry. I love it. "You said that you/would treat me right/ but you was just a waste of time."
11. No More (Baby Ima Do Right) (3lw)
My sisters and I used to jam out to this song all the time. Deb and I still do, cause we're still single. "Know I'm not the one/ Say it again/say it-say it again..."
12. But She Beat My High Score (Say Hi To Your Mom)
Video games or girls? I guess sometimes it's a toss up.
13. U Remind Me (Usher)
I don't really know why this one's here...that's probably why it's in the bottom of the list.
8.2.08
Skid Marks and Broken Glass
Psalm 46
God is our refuge and strength,
an ever present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear,
though the earth give way
and the mountains fall
into the heart of the sea,
though its waters roar and foam
and the mountains quake
with their singing. (selah)
There is a river whose streams
make glad the city of God,
the holyplace where the most high dwells.
God is within her, she will not fall;
God will help her at the break of day.
Nations are in uproar,
kingdoms fall;
he lifts his voice,
the earth melts.
The Lord Almighty is with us;
the God of Jacob is our fortress. (selah)
Come and see the works of the Lord,
the desolations he has
brought on the earth.
He makes wars cease
to the ends of the earth;
he breaks the bow and
shatters the spear,
he burns the shields with fire.
Be still and know that I am God;
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth.
The Lord Allmighty is with us;
the God of Jacob is our fortress.
(selah)
God is our refuge and strength,
an ever present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear,
though the earth give way
and the mountains fall
into the heart of the sea,
though its waters roar and foam
and the mountains quake
with their singing. (selah)
There is a river whose streams
make glad the city of God,
the holyplace where the most high dwells.
God is within her, she will not fall;
God will help her at the break of day.
Nations are in uproar,
kingdoms fall;
he lifts his voice,
the earth melts.
The Lord Almighty is with us;
the God of Jacob is our fortress. (selah)
Come and see the works of the Lord,
the desolations he has
brought on the earth.
He makes wars cease
to the ends of the earth;
he breaks the bow and
shatters the spear,
he burns the shields with fire.
Be still and know that I am God;
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth.
The Lord Allmighty is with us;
the God of Jacob is our fortress.
(selah)
6.2.08
My White, Protestant Sister and I
Today is Ash Wednesday. Today is Chineese New Year also. I feel like today is really important to a lot of people, but means nothing to me. Just thought I'd mention that. Anyway...
So last night, I was really pissed of. You know, the kind of, can't sleep at night, stomach churning, can't even remember why I'm so mad kind of pissed of? Yeah, that one. Forgive me for my self indulgence, but I do a lot of my best writing when I'm mad, so I was a little excited that I was all worked up, and I made plans to go to Starbucks, which would make me even more mad because I hate Starbucks, and write something amazing for all of y'all to enjoy. I'm actually kind of happy when I get angry. I don't know how that doesn't contradict itself, but whatever. It works somehow. I forgot that I had to call my sister today to tell her that Sean had agreed to DJ her wedding. So I had to call her. I hadn't talked to her since Christmas. I called her first, so I could be sure to leave lots of time for wallowing in self misery and anguish. She asked me about my internship, and graduation, and if I was worried (I was). I told her about my writings, and about the internship, and my new freinds at church, and all the stories I remember from when we were young. I told her about her wedding DJ. She was so excited, and couldn't wait for her wedding, not really because she was getting married, but because it was another excuse for the family to get together and party. We do know how to party. Nothing excites me (or my sister) more than the entire family being together. But I had to go, so I could write my angry masterpiece. I told my sister that I had work to do.
"Okay, thanks for calling."
"Uh huh."
"I love you."
"I love you too."
"Okay, bye."
"Bye."
What was I going to write?
Damn it!
I can't be brilliant when I have a big sister who throws around that phrase "I love you" like everyone gets to hear it all the time.
So last night, I was really pissed of. You know, the kind of, can't sleep at night, stomach churning, can't even remember why I'm so mad kind of pissed of? Yeah, that one. Forgive me for my self indulgence, but I do a lot of my best writing when I'm mad, so I was a little excited that I was all worked up, and I made plans to go to Starbucks, which would make me even more mad because I hate Starbucks, and write something amazing for all of y'all to enjoy. I'm actually kind of happy when I get angry. I don't know how that doesn't contradict itself, but whatever. It works somehow. I forgot that I had to call my sister today to tell her that Sean had agreed to DJ her wedding. So I had to call her. I hadn't talked to her since Christmas. I called her first, so I could be sure to leave lots of time for wallowing in self misery and anguish. She asked me about my internship, and graduation, and if I was worried (I was). I told her about my writings, and about the internship, and my new freinds at church, and all the stories I remember from when we were young. I told her about her wedding DJ. She was so excited, and couldn't wait for her wedding, not really because she was getting married, but because it was another excuse for the family to get together and party. We do know how to party. Nothing excites me (or my sister) more than the entire family being together. But I had to go, so I could write my angry masterpiece. I told my sister that I had work to do.
"Okay, thanks for calling."
"Uh huh."
"I love you."
"I love you too."
"Okay, bye."
"Bye."
What was I going to write?
Damn it!
I can't be brilliant when I have a big sister who throws around that phrase "I love you" like everyone gets to hear it all the time.
4.2.08
Hope Vs. Future
It's inevitable. The future becomes the present, becomes the past. There were people in front of me who are now beside me, and will one day be behind me. I'm sorry. I don't mean to turn into Eyore over here, but I'm hopelessly bummed out right now. I've spent the last three years hanigng out with these people, this group called Intervarsity, and in a few months it is going to be over. I am going to have to be an adult, and adults don't get to have cool college friends. They don't get to lead bible studys on Monday nights at the University Village. They don't knock on the doors of total strangers and ask them if they can take out their trash. They don't get to spend spring break doing an inductive study of the gospel of Mark. They don't get spring break. It's the nine to five, the grind, the rat race, and being surrounded by all these other rats who don't care about you, or about God, or about anything but running their little wheels. I had lunch with a few people from my church yesterday. Someone asked one of the guys there (I think his name was Peter) what he was doing right now. He shrugged. "Just working."
"Same place?"
"Yeah."
"You like it there?"
"It's allright."
I've pretty much convinced myself that I'm never going to be one of those boring adults who never has anything interesting to say, but yesterday I looked at that man, and even though we look nothing alike (He was korean and a good deal older than me) I saw my own face staring into a half finished plate of Pad see ew. I'm scared of a lot of the things I'll have to do to get what I want (e.g. Deadlines, business interviews, asking out a girl [don't even get me started]) but I think I'm even more scared of the thought that nothing I want will happen. That my life will be safe. And boring. And alone. It's mostly alone that scares me. Right now I'm surrounded by so many people. I don't even have to call them (I hate calling people). They're just near me. All the time. What happens when they go away? What about when I have to work to keep in contact? Will I suceed? Will I fail? I'm scared of the future, mostly.
"'For surely I know the plans that I have for you,' says the Lord. 'Plans to prosper you and not harm you. Pans to give you a hope and a future.'"
-Jeremiah 29:11
I know that. I need to understand it. To believe it.
God, I believe. Help my unbelief.
"Same place?"
"Yeah."
"You like it there?"
"It's allright."
I've pretty much convinced myself that I'm never going to be one of those boring adults who never has anything interesting to say, but yesterday I looked at that man, and even though we look nothing alike (He was korean and a good deal older than me) I saw my own face staring into a half finished plate of Pad see ew. I'm scared of a lot of the things I'll have to do to get what I want (e.g. Deadlines, business interviews, asking out a girl [don't even get me started]) but I think I'm even more scared of the thought that nothing I want will happen. That my life will be safe. And boring. And alone. It's mostly alone that scares me. Right now I'm surrounded by so many people. I don't even have to call them (I hate calling people). They're just near me. All the time. What happens when they go away? What about when I have to work to keep in contact? Will I suceed? Will I fail? I'm scared of the future, mostly.
"'For surely I know the plans that I have for you,' says the Lord. 'Plans to prosper you and not harm you. Pans to give you a hope and a future.'"
-Jeremiah 29:11
I know that. I need to understand it. To believe it.
God, I believe. Help my unbelief.
2.2.08
What I want
I want to run around in circles at the park today, and hang upside down from the monkey bars. I think I will do this every day until I am 50. After that, we'll see. I want to marry a woman who wears polka dotted socks well into her 30's. A woman who writes on post-it notes and puts them on the bathroom mirror. I understand that a woman like that takes a while to find. That's cool. I'll wait. I want to live in a house that was hand painted over fifty years ago by someone who had no idea what he/she was doing. I think I could live in a house with a history like that. I want to tell people who yell that their hearts have a bad attitude. My mom used to tell me that. I'm bringing it back. I'm also bringing back saturday morning cartoons, iced tea on hot afternoons, and amateur night at your local coffee house. I'm bringing back your local coffee house. No more starbucks. I want to take the entire day off to stay in bed and write. What will I write? Poems? of course. Prayers? Why, yes. Term papers? Certainly not. Love letters? Don't be so nosy. I want to write a hundred beautiful things that no living soul will ever see, just like Emily Dickinson. I want to build a time machine so I can go back and find Emily, and marry her. I'll invent post its a hundred years before they were actually invented. Then Emily and I will be rich, and we'll be so happy that we'll never be inspired to write anything ever again, save a few post its on the bathroom mirror. The world will leave us alone and we'll be nobodies, in the most wonderful sense of the word. I want to hire a plane to fly a banner across the world that pledges my undying love...to books. Books will love me right back, in their own quiet way. I want to write a book about every horrible, traumatic experience I have ever had. I want to make it a comedy. I want my scars to become laugh lines. I don't want to be remembered when I die. I've always felt like the whole world is like a waiting room, and death? Well, remember the phrase "Your number is up?" Just like that. Death is getting called out of a crowded room. Life is a game of patience. I'm learning patience. I'm learning gratitude. I'm learning contentment. I'm learning love. I love you all. I'm grateful, I'm content, and I would be patient, but I've got all these dreams. I'm trying to be patient, but I want to marry a girl who wears polka dot socks. I don't know what's gotten into me. Maybe someone else can tell me. I like it though. I hope it stays.
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