OMG LINKME

Tastes Like Depeche Mode
Philly from the Inside out
Funny: Where It's At
Actually Useful for Something
Philly Blah, Blah and more Blah.

DECEMBER 13, 2003

Another Christmas is approaching, and I find it is time not to celebrate, not just yet. It is time to lay back, relax, and ask yourself: what am I doing, still up at 3 AM with an exam at 7 AM? Right now, all I need is a dressing down from Major Hardass, telling me to get on my lonesome way or have me hung upside down and beaten with heavy iron bats. But as it is, I lay back and relax. It's good - no popping blood vessels, no dying a thousand deaths, no spilt milk or burnt textbooks. Only one long sigh - a warning, perhaps, of more leisurely times to come.

DECEMBER 2, 2003

I know a lot of blogs do one thing very well: moan and whine and complain, on and on and on. I know I'm guilty of that too. But there has always been something poetic about misery. Poetry and beauty in literature have always been driven by some emotion so powerful, that it leaves its auteur gasping for breath. These unceasing pains - these that lead to suicide, hospital time and months and months of gloomy depression - are seen as the spark for uncomparable creative output. Give me a broken heart, a death in the family and a dismissal from work, and I'll give you the best story you've ever read. You'll cry when you read my lovesick poetry. My words will flow with the desperation of the ages, echoed in infinite conformations as it has through all the bards in time past. Of course, when one is les inspired, things go a little more like this...

NOVEMBER 7, 2003

I think there's a beautiful story inside of me, waiting to be told. I have the inspiration, but when I start writing, the intensity begins to die down in favor of the technicalities. I wish those wouldn't get in the way. Like, this guy is this way and does this - oh wait, we gotta set this up, the setting has to be described appropriately, this ain't some hack work - oh, no, that's too much description and not enough plot, sentences too short, sentences too long? Proper grammar but how to phrase slang - and what's more interesting to my audience - but who's my audience anyway, and what was my idea in the first place, and I'm getting really confused, and...

i kinda lost track of time. It's been this week, and the feeling just won't leave. So last Thursday, all was going quite well, besides the fact that I had a BBB exam the next day. So I did study group with Tracy, Rich and Rola, three different people from three different backgrounds who would never in a million years really hang out with each other (I don't think - but life can prove me wrong) - and this is at the video store, so I conducted "business" while boss shouted at me to do stuff, or you're wrong, the spinothalamic thigis like this, and poochie would go, wait, let's clear this up and dopey would go: what? oh, I don't know this part. All nighter, then study with Tracy at her place at 630 in the AM, when the sun was rising in her beauteous multitudes, the leaves, a wonderful brown turning to auburn, the grass a higher shade of green, the birds and chipmunks and squirrels and rats all rejoicing in the wet dewy morning when the rain has shut itself away for a little while so constancy can reign again... all this, and then study and breakfast (yay for cinnamon rolls) and then exam. Now the main word here was all-nighter, for then... until now, there's been 3 all nighters (2 pulled for no reason), 3 sleeping-more-than-12-hour stretches and afternoon naps. And I hate afternoon naps. So what went wrong? Or rather, what changed?

Philosophical analysis could say I was lacking motivation for sleep in favor of the continual presence of others (could be, since I spent a lot of time online during those all nighters...but what about the sleeping binges? Unavoidable recovery, the experts would say.); to pack in the maximum into the minimum time. That sounds glorious, but sleep deprivation sucks. And so does oversleep. Way suck.

So my world gets smaller and smaller, for everyone I know knows someone else I know, and the webs get tighter and tighter around me. It's amazing. Sourabh came home with a story about finally realizing that Sonalie's piano man and Sourabh's crazy roommate that happens to also play piano and sleeps all day after huge, um, consumption gatherings, were one and the same person. So - one friend knows another friend knows... there's a lot more connections, but why state all of them? It's the obvious, isn't it.

Flashback to tonight: Finish playing solo; girl has bloody nose, so Brenna tells me to play another piece; why?; I don't know; piano moved back; oh, bloody nose; ah!; piano moved back; second solo (fumbling for a piece there). And then the intros were funny. Chicago was great, though strangely the audience didn't get all into it, but In the Mood was a hit. Definitely a good job, but could be tighter for the next couple days.

Reading Forster. Amazing, is he not? Margaret is so aware, yet accepting that she likes her decadence - but she knows that Helena and aunt Juley are spoiled rich craphounds who don't work for their money and can deign to love, whereas the poor - the other class - must suffer for love or whatever their want. This is such a small slice - I love one side of Helen, who paints pictures for the music, whose streams burble to B-flat and whose andante movements reverberate with the sound of meadows and rustic settings and home, a wild sense of home. But she is blissfully unaware, that such a thing as an umbrella can mean so much in the way of social consciousness to young poetic firebrands stuck in marriages to doxies that they stay with because they can't afford anyone else. And whose very poeticness in the midst of his situation forces him to bottle it up and release it in ways that can only suggest cheating on his wife - which he is very far from physically. Mentally, yes. And the old abused guy at the train station, who takes Charles' abuse and still lives in awe of him. It is mentioned in passing, but is such a strikingly sad point, that it takes my full emotional concentration to read through what he has written. First Howards End, then Room with a View, then a Passage to India.

Advice from Lizz: Faulkner is good, just really hard to read. I started reading Sound and the Fury and ten pages through, all I heard was silence. I need to try again.

Life treats me good.

NOVEMBER 5, 2003

A wholly successful dry run - or maybe not so. It was a strange moment that just passed; I had the inspiration to write, and suddenly it left. Quite disturbing. (Disturbing must not always have a negative connotation?)

OCTOBER 29, 2003

It's easiest to just talk about what happened as a timeline, naturally. And to read over that, it's actually kinda hard too - because I talked with her, and talked with him, and saw that, and saw this - what did I really think about it? Otherwise it's dry and empty. So, there has to be more descriptors I guess. It's not just a planner weblog, it's a fill-in-the-blank novel diary thingamajig that will go down in history as the collective ramblings of Byron M. Kho, esquire. Nope, not esquire with a capital E, because no lawyer here. Wait, that would also cover little e esquire too. Damn.

Randi told me how she went over to Alanna's place (for dinner, I'm presuming, with Molly too) and they were going over things. Apparently, Alanna keeps a lot of stuff, and she had an old note of mine, asking her to wake me up on some exam day or something. It's "classic Byron", or so I've been told. It's kind of embarrassing, but kind of endearing. At least all of them seem to think so. Randi shocked me too: she went and ran a half marathon around Center City last weekend. She did! 13 miles! 7.5 minutes a mile! She's cute when she gets all excited, and she totally was - she said she felt so good about it, she was gonna do it again, real soon. She did, however, express misgivings over running an actual marathon. I asked why, and she told me it was too much of a mental challenge, and I can't run that much, etc. I told her yes, and the psychological rewards are much greater... then she threw another back at me. Why don't you run a double marathon? I said..um, no. At least not now, when I can't throw 4 hours away for practice a day, when all I will do is come home tired, sweaty and crippled. Crippled, you ask? At this point, yes, since running has been last on the list for the past month. I am sure I am out of shape now.

Sigh, JMal. I saw her over at PSA on Thursday. I miss her a lot. She's going to Puerto Rico for Fall Break, and leaving next semester for London. And I'm still here, waiting. You know, I think a visit tomorrow is in the works.

Sourabh tells all these weird stories all the time. They're funny - just weird. I'm sure he thinks the same of all my stories. But he has all these funny stalker people, and to whom he's too nice, and the whole time he complains about their weirdness, he still talks with them like nothing happened and they're great, so was there stalking? And everything is definitely "weird". Which includes me (I already knew that one). He likes the AC on all the time, even when he complains it's cold outside. And he always takes naps. But he's definitely a funny kid, just more open with his mouth than most people. Which is good; he should go into public relations or marketing, he'd shine. Biochem job? Pshaw!

Aparna is just crazy. Now who got the hooch?

Jenny Heck, thanks for the great party. And all those people! And private stocks! Thank god for you (and Poe coming over, and Ed, and your crazy drunk friend, and all those other things like the Nu and scandals and affairs and gossip and still being embroiled in the midst), I might have left early from that shindig just because I could.

OCTOBER 25, 2003

I do realize that Mates of State's music all sounds the same. But who cares? Whoever can combine organs, drums and two bad voices that sound good together deserves to be played. Over and over and over again. "We don't need to drive....hang us out to dry!" The Kissaway is an awesome song.

I just made a Kill Bill (-style) cd. That movie - is just fucking great. The music is sooo good too. Nancy Sinatra doing Bang Bang just made me wanna study, just so I could listen to the song. It's kind of weird to play otherwise. And then Lucy Liu doing, "I will collect your fucking head." Proceeding right into some Los Lobos to even out the flava. Even a great clip of Juliette Lewis. "I want you to eat my pussy....right now." And then we got the Green Hornet, some Japanese cheesy crap, the Duel music, some RZA mix and some good times.

Well, I should do at least some shoutouts - here's to Xanga (which I should really post to, but here's good enough, I say)! It's all good - here's to Red All Over and Cielolibre, here's to Rob and Molly and all those I did read this summer. It kept me going.

I take some words for granted. Like motherfucker. It's such a classy word. Hurt yourself? "Aw, motherfucker son of a bitch!" Life sucks? "Motherfucking hell... why me?" Really angry? "Motherfucker! I'se gon' kill you!" Conversation piece? "So yo, last night was motherfuckin' awesome!" Mainly because I don't use it much any more, but seeing it used is just so great. Tracy (man, she's so crazy, she must be blazed full time!) saying motherfucker in that, "guys, you HAVE to put back the fucking tags!" voice. And then Assad saying "muuutherfuck" (and then Vic) after a particularly good pass. Speaking of Assad and Tracy - Thursday night was SO motherfuckin' awesome (there we go, got it in there!). God. Intense was the word. Ya gotta give it to the Infamous three, they really know how to throw a "dinner" party. Sonalie made some cookies too, they were so awesome. And Megan should SO not be a vegetarian. What's with nurses and vegetarianism? I brought in some vodka and amaretto reinforcements. After 3 hours, I was floating on a cloud. I mean, really floating. By the time we got to Charades, I was too fucking high to stand up and act shit out.

Mmm. Death Cab for Cutie.

I just beat No One Lives Forever yesterday, Took me a while. I missed out on the whole day. Stupid video games. And IM. And phone. It was midnight before I got outside. How fucked up is that? Oh, and I got a call from Lisa Rhoades. But I was still a little hazy (seriously, I could still smell the quality stuff on me) and was like, call back in a half hour. Knowing her, she probably got so trashed and drunk and is still lying in the backyard of some frat house. If you can read this, pretend you didn't. Thanks.

It's funny that it's Parent's Weekend. I told my parents not to come this weekend. They said OK. It's also Diwali. I told my parents not to come for Diwali. They said OK. But then they said - um, I kinda need to do some shopping at... Let me guess. Franklin Mills, Italian Market, King of Prussia. How'd you know? Aw, you know your parents so well. OK, we're coming up. But not this weekend.

Do I want to play tonight for FamPAN? No, not really. I want to get real drunk and storm the stage. But then, Lauren Levy would kick my ass. Not only that, she would kick my ass while singing really great opera-style about it, and loud enough so the entire world could hear about it. And then Molly would go ballistic on me. And then... that would so not be cool. The stage storming. For goodness knows, I do the other often enough that it has to be cool by now.

Where is la petite Fehder? Am I supposed to wait for her to show up? But Cece is here, so it's OK, I guess. Funny story. So Lizz broke her leg, right? And we're talking about how it's healing. "Ooh, Lizz's first steps," I say. And then she goes "yeah, right! Baby can walk!". Then - "my brother is such a piece of shit. He wanted to have the boots bronzed." I think I died. That was hilarious!! Uh oh, gotta go.

OCTOBER 24, 2003

i was meaning to say that it's really really easy to get it all wrong, once you start with the wrong idea. too bad i always start with the wrong idea. you build on it, and build on it, and then you end up having to trash it all and start over again when it's actually a teensy bit different from what i thought it was.

meaning to say?

so there was this one time, walking down locust walk. i see her. i'm like, screw this, she hates me now. after walking out with not that good of an explanation freshman year? yeah. i got it built up to the point where i was like, she's after me with a machete. no, i'm not gonna look at her, because she'll spit at me, and why was i such a jerk, etc, etc. but i peek, and she's smiling. damn! so i'm talking with lizz...about being in band. now, it is still kind of a good thing to be playing music and all, but the band has a high proportion of not so normal. but then i think about it. you play your music, you go home. is that so bad? no.

and then there's the matter of conciseness. i figure it's ok to spit out words...whatever you wanted to really say is somewhere in that morass of words. slightly incomprehensible, but it's all you. that big ball of fluff and crap, it has YOU written all over it. so io write and write, and then i'm like, what the hell have i done? i took a simple thought, or event, or whatever is on my mind, and made it into this gargantuan bigass complaint, whine against the world, why doesn't somebody shoot.... wait, you can't shoot the delivery guy. that's just wrong.

did i tell you i'm into cooking? oh yes. name it, i'll try and cook it. mostly it works. the other times... well, we won't talk about that, will we. i can make all kinds of soups now... just have to learn how to prepare the chickens to make natural stock rather than buy all this chicken soup stock that i've been buying. thank god for trader joes. i love their one sauce too, the tomato and capers and spices, they all blend in so well and smell so good and... it's just orgasmic! yeah, i'm serious.

i wish i got angry more often. i could have some wild times that way. i'd get into all kinds of crazy fights, just like that time at SimSum's, with that crazy freakiness at the shisha bar, where that stupid ** just wouldn't shut up, and i ended up just going home rather than push the issue. it didn't help that i had also smoked a ton of ** before that. i'm sure my aim would have been impaired. well, i came back and said all kinds of crazy ** online to people, and thank god i didn't call anyone. i swear, i got drunk this one time this summer and almost called my mom (jen's number was one off my mom's in my speed dial). well i did, but it rang once and i saw what i was doing and i just said ** no, this ** ain't right.

so, like, a quarter bottle of rum. brings back some memories.

and poker night at casey's? casey bought the table... got some puff with assad, then went downstairs to go lose some money with the boys. Cary watched a little while and laughed. goin to sleep. i lost 7 bucks...but considering i was down 10, threw in four, on last call, won a shitload back, was up in the black for a while and then lost some on bad moves until i was down to real Real low, until i found a super super hand and won a bunch back. and then what's his name next to me bounces a shitty pair that wins the table. great bluff that was. he took home the gold there. casey was up a lot too, and he's already the lucky one.

OCTOBER 23, 2003

So I'm moaning about being bored at work. I think that it's more of a I-hate-Thursday's thing. I'm at class all day, I work, and my day lasts from 8 to 8. It sucks, ya know? But then, I can't complain, because everyone else is getting the shaft too. So I shoot the shit where I can, and then leave the moaning at home. On the shelf, next to my orgo book.

I don't get angry when my mom smokes pot. No, I don't. But I don't get angry when the only good song on the computer at work is What I Got either. Sublime really rocks the house when Charlie's Angels 2, for the third time, just ain't cuttin' it. That reminds me, I gotta download some more of that Neptunes stuff. It's kinda stupid wasting my time like this. I'm at an open page in my organic chem book, and it's whispering to me of lost opportunity. For 5 weeks, it says, you've let me gather dust, on that shelf, alongside your other dusty books that you never read, and blah blah blah.... you're sounding like my mother, so it's time to shut the books.

The pre-meds are getting on my nerves. Yeah, I'm a pre-med. So what? You think I can't diss my own kind? I hardly hang out with Asians, for goodness sake. I can diss Asians, cuz I'm one of them, just like it's ok to get chutzpah from an Ashkenazi or the n-word from Marlon. Wayans will do (Bamboooooozled). So back to the pre-meds. Not just pre-meds, but Asian pre-med girls! They're sharks (granted, they have to be, to survive in a slightly anti-Asian, anti-femme world, but still) and they're lovin it. And it's Hollywood-profiled (preview for the Perfect Score...) "Geez, it's not like I need Harvard. So you're taking 221? I thought that was so easy. That professor is such a joke, and that stupid TA. I, like, asked him about blah blah blah and it was like, um, lemme check. What do these guys get paid for? Oh yeah, the application. My brother knows some guy at Yale whose sister's husband is like, in Admissions, and he says all you gotta do is write some junk to them about how you love to help out, but it's gotta be like, in HUP, and you gotta get what-s his face to sign a letter for you, and I, like, basically raped him yesterday." Oh, and sometimes they get really drunk and do things at parties. OK, so that wasn't so offensive. It's what I'm thinking, and you, bio or BBB major person, are thinking, but it just hurts to hear it out loud. It's just that arrogant snobby, you can kiss my ass because I'll be rich look that gets to me. It's not that I don't feel the tug. It's just that I can see it all around.

It's not all bitter though. Hangin around this town has got me all excited, and I can't wait till I got some time to do some stuff back downtown again. Dmitri's was awesome, next time it's Effie's. And then clubs, and such. Cheap places, that serve without carding, and are cool. Real cool. Oh, and happy Diwali. You know I'll be celebrating.

OCTOBER 22, 2003

God Save Our Wonderful Days

I thought today was going to be a little different. I think it was - not only were my eyes open at 9 AM, but I was able to get up after another moment's respite... however, this time, it wasn't 9:02 AM, but 1:32 PM. An auspicious start to the day, was it not? However, I was not to be deterred. Social constructions, be damned, I told myself. The argument is invalid, the thinking man would argue, that one's day should be ruined on account of activities and actions taken without conscious consent and effort; furthermore, I was feeling great. Nutella on toast in one hand, my mouse in the other... I sought to reduce the world to a comprehendible miniature version, and with said goal in mind, I proceeded to enter the realm of, not CNN, not History Channel, not Home and Garden TV - no, not any of these - but rather, PBS. Sesame Park, meet college student. Elmo has his own half hour, I learned to make it mine.

In that unkempt state, with sleep filled eyes and wildly waving hair clumps, I felt at peace. Not the peace that my fellow Asian could summon, while practicing his version of the Falun Gong exercises on the roof of Stouffer Hall at 6:30 AM each morning last year. And neither was it the peace of "those who are about to die, salute you", or "J.P. Morgan would like to offer you a position at....". That was a settled peace; what I had was unsettling, and in its awesome grandeur of nothingness and inexorable confusion, it was beautiful, like a star waiting to collapse in on itself which in its waiting, was a bulging, red, iridescent mass just visible in the unfathomable depths of the telescope. It went on, for hour after hour, and just so - enough to earn some quality time in the hall of shame. But it wasn't to last. All good things, we are told, come to an end. And no different for this son of Adam. For I was the chosen; the phone call told me so. "You are needed. Go forth." I heeded the message, and hearkened unto the sound of the voice.

"Sposalizio! Che bella faccia...." Another skill learned: that of patience, and when it came to pass that I could stand no longer this idle tyranny and gross abuse of this accompanist's time, it was over, ashes scattered to the winds. Revenge was a dish left untasted. The bitter fruit would not take root, for the call of freedom superseded all the rest, and it was time. Contention, it was said, provides fodder for the lazy devil to spread his voluminous wings - and the story of passions lost, and anger repressed, and love, above all, love... Respite for the psychologically weary, yet truthfully, blossoming with feral energy, in the basement of Houston Hall. Yet, the call still reached even unto there - "go forth, and beat him up."

Race St., Cherry St., then waltz down Arch into the waiting arms of the Trocadero, and Mates of State, and rocking rhythm, the screeching organ and wailing melody making the peace oh so worthwhile and the love was spreading: the clapping, the stomping, the hooting, the flash of red down the keyboardist's side, reminiscent of fresh blood and lust and "play around...but you will." But the band played on, and this guy had to get off the A train and back into the shady dens of the working world, who hid in the shadows of respectability and jobs and respectable actions. Score one more for the candy thief, who crashes her way through motorcycle games and loses air hockey with a winning goal on herself. Score one more for work done; actual work, that kept me going and revving and churning and chomping and chewing and running, until the alarm strikes 2:30 AM and it's time to go, yet I'm still here. It's sad, walking through the night. A soft lilting strain of "if you call, I will answer..." and then it's the reassurance of Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark. It's lovely, this relaxation. Full circle, it is - for my spot is still warm, at this hour of the morning, Nutella and toast in one hand, and the mouse in the other. God save our wonderful days.

OCTOBER 4, 2003

Friday night. It's been a busy week, and a busy day...classes as usual this week, work...it's been pretty good so far. I like working at the video store; it's so relaxing, and I get to talk to people while I'm there. On Thursday I actually did a shitload of work while I was there! Of course there's rehearsal as usual; I had a PMAH board meeting in which we discussed all the stuff we hadn't actually talked about since forever - it was about time. I came home, yeah, and then lived through today, which was at once intense and boring.

So this morning, I have class. I go to eat lunch with Kathy at Kings Court, and she has so much to say! I tell her a bunch of my stories, we have the longest lunch ever, then I drop her off at class. It's really good knowing that I can share my issues with her (though they are not very much...she was relieved to see I wasn't one of the very fucked-up people that she keeps close to her without realizing they're actually really really crazy...hmm, what company are you keeping there?). It was also a benchmark, cuz I pulled my black coat out of the closet, and I think it looks fucking sweet, especially with my black long sleeve shirt. But back to this "sharing issues"...I slowly learn who I can lean on in times of trouble, and it's relieving to see at one time that you can rely on someone and someone can rely on you. It's so good to know! Missy came over last night; she stayed a while. I showed her my place and introduced her to the girls next door (and by the way, Thursday night, I hung out with them the entire time, got roaring drunk, and then bothered my roommate while he had to study for an exam). I also gave her a try of my peach schnapps, ginger ale and frozen berry concoction, which is really good. Better though if the ginger ale ain't flat.

So then, I play some games, then walk down to Old City with Sourabh. I get some Scoop de Ville, and we finally make it to all the galleries for First Friday. Eventually, Julie and Becca join us and we see some more Illegal Art (Disney porn! Other crazy shit!) before taking a crazyass carriage ride. It's so relaxing, though the guy won't shut up. He has interesting facts, but I could never just enjoy the ride, because he was talking. I'm too sensitive like that - I had to pretend I was listening and then actually end up listening, though I didn't really want to. It makes me feel bad (Sourabh says "you always feel bad!", which is true. I don't support stealing from the cafeteria bc it continues a vicious cycle; I just say that I feel bad, and then a legacy was born. "You always feel bad!" gets pulled out of the closet.). We had dinner at this pizza place (it has 100,000 wings on the menu, I asked how much it was and the waitress said, "oh Lord." She didn't know, and she just laughed, because nobody ever ordered it. Julie, silly ho, didn't want to take my money for dinner, and so I got a free ride. Now that's OK to feel bad about. At least it better be! I had to run back to see Cassandra Reeves, who is an AWESOME modern jazz singer. She sang Blues in the Night (Rocks in my bed....Rocks Johnson!), I Remember Sarah, Skylark, a Celia Cruz number (as encore) and several really really cool pieces. She is very involved with the music and moves with the beat. I love her voice though! It's so rich and velvety and moves all over the place without flatting or missing the notes; she can sing in this off-key while the band plays in another! It works so well, even though it would be hard for me to ever be able to do some of the pitch finding that she has to do. Her band is also really awesome. Especially the pianist dude. Damn. I want to be able to play like him. So that was that though...wait, no, I met Nicole from Band and Penn Music Mentoring. It's so weird! I know so many people in Band now! It's ridiculous. I'm suddenly in with the, um, never mind. Haha.

SEPTEMBER 17, 2003

SEPTEMBER 3, 2003

It is said that only aspirants to perfection are incredibly nitpicky over "states" - that is, states of being, states of mind, emotional states, intellectual states. Yoga, meditation, incantations, then literary circles, argumentative soirees, diary keeping (blogging and logging count), that and huge crying jags. Well. So much for the typical.

I have this incredible idea that I'm working out for a novel. The descriptions of the chapters itself take up a couple pages - so I'm sure that once written, it will be by far a very interesting and complicated work. The only problem? It will take too much time. I keep on adding to this description, adding character touches and such - mostly as notations and guidelines for myself to make the task of writing a lot easier. Writing is actually hard, so if the characters are in place and a plot, and emotional twists and that sort of thing laid out and not available for renegotiation until after the whole thing is written, it is SO much easier. So that I will do.

running full speed into walls
i can't seem to stop, enthralled
by the mere sight, though I fall
there's no sound down this hall,
just one sigh on this pub crawl.

AUGUST 15, 2003

decided to tackle the stream of consciousness thing again... decided that she really does care but sometimes the light just goes out and my light does too when i'm really just blah - not tired, just blah - and that's how it goes... it was normal, better before she left and worse when she left, but it was still just okay... i hate it when that happens and i am thinking i am being a lazy slob tonite because i can and don't snap out of it - it's not easy being a story weaver, you weave in and out, your webs don't cover up fully and when you're caught off guard, everything can fall apart... but you know that once complete, your imagination can create incredible dreamscapes and soundscapes and things that anybody would want to hear, especially the one who you're talking to, and so i do what i do because i can do what i do... it was a compliment from my mom, somewhat bitter, but then later proud of the fact...she called me "really a storyteller, make everybody feel so good until it goes wrong and nobody expected it.. you were born a writer". i liked that one so much - it was complaint of a lack of communication between me and her, and sometimes, with everybody in general, but mostly because it's hard to discuss things with the parents, like girls - authoritarian asian families are notorious for preventing a lot of things and enticing the inner liar to come out to hide relationships and things that a normal kid in a caucasian family would not hesitate to make known, but that's the price of being in an asian family, knowing that everybody expects you to be really smart and an engineer or doctor, great at math, and not interested in girls until you're forty which is just fucking ridiculous. of course when you're going into premed, you're great at math, your dad is an engineer, and the girl question was left unanswered for so many years, there's a lot you do to make yourself different and outside of the asian stereotype - banished by showing a deep interest in history, a great skill in writing and emoting and feeling, having charm, which many asians lack, having no interest in engineering, enjoying many rather deep feelings over being a doctor and the moral goals tied with being a doctor that should be in place rather than the money thing, having lots of 'illicit' relationships under the guise of going to friends houses, smoking and drinking and getting high but to such a level that nobody knows until you choose to let them know; my parents and brother know nothing of anything of that sort but i know - and at school, i don't hesitate to let the word get around, but being a master of deception, i never let people see me when i falter - when i take too much, i disappear, control myself all the rest of the time and i never contend when people think i'm drinking/smoking etc. so i was not surprised when it got around that i always smoked up, even tho i did it maybe once a week for a month and not ever after that month... all my girl questions and bursting to tell was all poured out on my girl cousin who was closest in age to me and would understand the need to be discreet, she also had the best advice to give, in any matter - since i had to deal with authoritarianism, social stereotypes, time management, grey areas in relationships, easing doubts, how to be smooth, and all that by talking maybe once a month, it really helps - then of course, i talk with all my girl friends for the same kind of advice, i don't hesitate to go into the areas where it hurts because i know they're there for me, so it's really good to know that and to also let my soul let out air, just like it is now - because, back to the writing thing, i love writing. it's such a soul cleanser, i can type it all out and the nuances, or most of them in any case, can come out of the woodwork and into the public eye. by writing in an online diary, i am also doing kind of a public confession and also something for me to remember, it also helps me to realie what slant i had on certain topics at the time of, and how it differs from the memory of the time, for example, i'd love to see what i feel about the jlm episode after the fact - hopefully, it never gets to the after-the-fact. a guy on tv just asked, what are my options? and that's my question most days. sometimes i've thought about it and prepared the answer so i'm ready and smooth and everything when the time comes, but when i'm caught off guard, i spin offhand stories that sometimes work and sometimes don't, especially when it's in my living room - it's so awkward for some reason when talking in my living room in the middle of doing things, because i am so aware of the thing i was just doing and am not ready - when jlm actually provokes nervousness, you know you need more time to be what she needs and what you need. i'm always amazed at how strong but particularly fragile she is - she knows what it's all about, she knows what she needs to be, but in a social sense, she can be so trampled upon, and i feel like it's my duty to protect her as much as i can from that. i know she needs no help on the professional front, actually i would probably need more help there but when dealing with people outside, she's liable to get lost in the fracas. she lets people talk to her like they please and she doesn't put her foot down, when she gets mad it's a quiet madness and that's dangerous, sometimes i wish she'd get mad at me, but she'll talk about it and i can sense when she's close to breaking down but i help ease her over it and when she's smiling fit to break i'll feel like mission accomplished... other people too, i'll be counselor and best friend when they're having problems, but i won't necessarily feel the total closeness - i can feel the hurt and pain tho... i talked with a few people tonight about their problems and also in nights past, and they had so much to say and sometimes i had to be direct and blunt, and sometimes soft and reassuring, adapting to what people need to hear - for the guy with the distant girl, i raged at his insincerity and formality, and decided that he had no emotion invested and that was probably the cause of the distance, and to others, i felt that more emotion was needed - even tho both sides had reasons to be upset with each other - then the people with drug problems, and telling them, for the last time, that their fucking act was fucking up their lives and they better fucking clean it up, or to the drunk that you would do so much better if you weren't like this around the people you wanted to listen to you, and that's why i can waltz miles around you when it comes to the emotional intelligence - i can say i learned that much from my parents and from being around the right kind of people, i hope they're proud of me - i am not wishy washy, though normally guys would accuse that when you claim to some emotional intelligence - to some, having to factor that in is kinda gay, but when they come clean when they're drunk and don't know any better, i know they also rage over it and feel they can't tell anyone and thus get so frustrated... on that topic, yeah, i get frustrated, but i talk to myself sometimes (admittedly...hehe, but it helps clarify what i'm feeling because i have to think about things to have something to say, even if it's just to myself) and then to other people directly or indirectly, and to my parents very very indirectly... that's why this summer has been the best, because i've come clean to so many people and learned a lot about life, love and happiness. i read tolstoy and his visions of despair, of love, of marriage, of relationships, of courting, of political sensitivities, of political currents within personal relationships, the odd quirks and strange emotions directed at people that he acknowledges exist but you don't realize until you read it and realize that sometimes these things do exist, like when you felt a little bit pissed when a certain guy came in though you actually did like him personally, it was just something about the expression on his face at that time, or the effect of a personal situation on your perception of the world and how much things change - i really like the russian writers because since their world is so bleak, they don't have to gloss over things by making everything just so, because no one would want that fakery, so life is life and emotion is emotion, and no one is embarrassed to talk about it in writing, remember all those writers in political exile in siberia? with putin, i'm sure those things have come back into vogue though it's not quite so publicized...the rule of the russian mob back in russia have probably stirred up images of the old tsarist russia and autocratic soviet rule - anna karenina shows how adultery and doubt affect each player in the story without explicitly saying "this is how this affected every player in the story", resurrection deals with the souls of the innocent suffering for the upper classes' sake in two different parallel cases, one being the prince judging the whore whom he first raped and drove into whoredom, and then exploitation of the unfairness of imprisonment for purpose of maintaining things the way they are... me and george in the lab talked about that today and he mentioned how nobody is smart enough to really think on the issues and vote that way, they're just led like sheep to the slaughter, they're happy if they can bring enough money home to send their kids to college, own a house, a car, and a chicken in every pot - no issue at what is exactly fair, why do some people think they deserve more recompense when the little guy suffers the most, why some things are kept secret for so long that the paper they're written on crumbles before it's allowed to be released, all for the purposes of national security, and why people would vote for a dumb president because they don't want to lose their investment, and the rest because they don't know any better, and because they give up a lot of things without knowing for one single benefit that's actually not so helpful to them, and how some people don't really understand the way we are governed and don't know past history...the filibustering, the packing of ballot boxes, the quadruple and quintuple voting by tammany folks and aaron burr, and the sex scandals of alexander hamilton and thomas jefferson and the spite between presidents and all kinds of chicanery that people think were invented just today but that isn't the way things are! or how they blak at paying taxes and want to not pay any at all - though all their freedoms and services they are used to are preserved in such a state with a certain amount of fairness because of taxes, and a Section 681 or frivolous lawsuits will not help the rest of the nation though they might intrigue you, in the avoidance of taxes... you are the little guy, but you must work through political knowledge and grassroots politics to get up to the top, for as we know, electors can be bought because they are essentially picked by politicians... like, how did we get stuck with two unfavorable choices (eg bush and gore)? pick the lesser of two evils, yeah... but true public opinion should be able to promote finally a candidate that isn't an evil at all - that's why when people call this country a democracy, they have it wrong - the united states is a republic, and republican politics (lower case republican, just like the lower case catholic of the protestant creeds) is an indirect use of public opinion by voting people in to represent your cause for better or worse. and then tolstory comes out with family happiness to determine what marriage is and usually becomes to a lot of people, and the kreutzer sonata to what jealousy and on the spur looks and innuendos can do to a man's soul and what the moral representation of a generation looks like and why it may or may not be not the best thing - there's a lot of him to go around - it was the kreutzer sonata that demonstrated that some pieces must be preserved for special occasions and that the emotions were too strong to always have out in the plain; same as his relations with his wife, his emotions shouldn't always be the first to be laid open, his wife was responsible to help him preserve it for special occasions (read dignity, and respect for each other)... i'm glad jlm has that interest too, but it comes out only when we're deep in thought - the last time was a huge long discussion of it all when i was kinda drunk, the next time will be when i'm not - the thing is, i can look drunk because when i'm hyper i act the same way, just my face might not be so red. i am good at self control, i refused alcohol a lot... rob was kind of surprised at that, bc he was like, you're just an alcoholic... i impressed myself on everybody that night because they know my capacity and my wants, but when i need to have the discipline, i have it inside of me. i can go on and on about lots of things - i read an article that was good news for lots of people, including me. seems that social studies, combined with sicentific ones, showed that females were more likely to stick with more pacifist men (me mainly because even if i were warlike, i wouldnt be around to write this...i have to be street smart to survive instead of just brawn), virgins went for the big guy, but sexually mature women went for the smaller, more comfortable guys mainly because they were more mature, were less abusive in relationships, were more supportive bc they stuck around and did well for the family and all those other little reasons; they looked at fishies and found the same patterns, the sexpots stuck with the smaller fishies and the its my first time went for the r. kelly's and kobe bryants and meatheads. and then there was that form of turtle i think, or maybe it was a kind of fish too, where the male rode ont he back of the female where it was provided with unlimited food, sex and transportation without any visible return from the male. oh yeah, it was a fish, the zeusfish...lucky bastard, him. these days i'm getting kinda poor, good thing i got all my time sheets signed today, but my boss is coming in on monday to take a look at my work, meaning i might have to go in on the weekend to find stuff to show her. that's gonna be a little issue; i'm kinda worried about it actually. but it'll work out if i think about it enough. i went for dinner with mike, laura and max today, southworth came in in the middle... added to the chicken alfredo, we had asparagus, salad and cokes. it was pretty good actually but the asparagus skins were a little too fibrous and chewy, and the chicken alfredo went down like lead weights because it was made with tons and tons of butter. wow. the dolphin in the basement and plexiglass...haha, and stealing internet, and making another beer pong table and hooking up all the rooms with speakers and Qing's kitty kat with no name and the shittiness of the house in general, one drain was clogged up and the insinkerator doesn't work, and the internet's all ghetto, and the garbage place outside stinks because no garbage cans, and nobody washes dishes or treats the utensils with respect for the owner etc. just a ton to get through in one hour, and then laura started her car miraculously and drove me downtown to the kaplan center where all was good in practicing my skills until i got outside and it was raining all over the damn place and i walked back in the rain, all wet, and should have been miserable, but i couldn't help grinning. 'you look like such a cute couple' god, i smiled into the darkness of the schuylkill and i swear i could see my reflection beaming up at me; with the most rigoddamdiculous expression on my face, i could tell, i was mumbling to myself, telling myself things no one else would ever hear, telling her things she would never hear, telling everyone else things they would never hear either, or know, until i decide to be indiscreet with them and myself and talk so loud that i have to tell myself to shut the fuck up, of course, out loud too. the rain splotches covered up my glasses but i could still sense the brightness of my spirit; i knew what it was to be happy, i knew what it was to care so much that i see it played over and over and the easy recall was so astonishing that i couldn't help but laugh in the middle of the street and the guy that almost hit me with his car after i did that and the couple i jumped around and the tree i ran into soon after all were as if nothing to me, because i had a cause, i championed something great because 'it's engraved on my heart' and 'i would have waited all night, if that's what it took', i had a hanky to tie onto the edge of my lance and sword as a prize into the heat of battle - the stares from everyone made the heat rise all over, and life was good to have something to say 'don't punch my stomach or make me laugh....hey! no making me laugh!' and then the smiles from all the people i passed by that genuinely understood what was happening, this was a transformation that would never be seen, it was just there and nothing would take it away, save from direct words to the contrary, and spending the night alone while poker and dave and buster's called were nothing; mcats were good company because i had the knowledge that memories were holding me up and the scent in the air would linger a little bit more, i hope the sunlight never lightens up... as i come to the end of this ramble, i realize i've covered a lot and know that if you end up reading the whole thing, you will have come to the end of an oddysey, an entire trip through the psyche and rambling mind of one byron kho, esquire, sitting in his chair and wondering what the hell was the point of it all and realizing the answer was what everybody had said it was but nobody understands until it happens. love, and lots of it. for the bum who shed a tear at a hand on the shoulder and change enough for two cups of coffee, for friends and family, for the sick, for the downtrodden, for passerby, for everything that matters to anything or anyone, and especially, for that one pinnacle of faith, trust, and hope that would normally be unreachable until the last step has been reached - and it was good. and after seeing that it was good, he rested.

AUGUST 14, 2003

This just in - human DNA more closely resembles rat DNA than cat DNA. So all you cat people.... are really rat people. Hahaha!

Of scientific importance: Junk DNA, or what is now termed junk DNA, seems to be important, because it stays almost exactly the same through many animal species.

Visit Bali, yall. Yeah, they were bombed, but we don't stop visiting New York and Washington now, do we? Many airlines fly straight to Bali; its people are great and actually accept the tourists, treating them with warmth and respect; they perform their religious rites and live their lives under close scrutiny from visitors without batting an eye; and now - their livelihoods are being ruined by a slump in tourism after the Bali bombing. It's like Cancun, but prettier, more relaxing, and finally, an even better place to get drunk and get laid on the beach.

Preteen hoes flourish at Mall of America; suburbia a hot recruitment post for pimps.

"The British are invading Normandy again, this time not to save it from tyranny but to buy it for themselves."

And scary spy shit popping up again. Iran experts from the Pentagon (DoD spooks) meet up with shady liar and conduit from Iran-Contra scandal. Once can be explained as chance; but twice? And who's leaking what? If it was really scandalous, they'd shut it down and I wouldn't know about it - but obviously, I know. So either they're incompetent, OR they're playing games with someone.

Euro is a hit. Trading at around 1.30 to 1 American, it is a surprise success, lending prestige to its supporters as it raises continental trade and clears up economic confusion. England, in sore defense of its pound (under Blair, who is going to burn worse than Gray Davis out in Cali), is in a bad position - Ireland and Scotland have wholly capitulated to the euro (no more eire...close enough name though), and the British only cling to the pound by the Irish and Scottish - not to mention their hatred of Bush, who is supported by the Brbecause of patriotic reasons (in one article, this was compared to "strong military” in the U.S. Since Ireland and Scotland are enjoying booms after their acceptance of the euro, it's with little wonder that I announce that the British WILL soon fall. Who's going to keep away from making money? No one. As it is stuck in the middle of continental and floating Europe, this lone state will fall in soon enough. And the combined economic reasons, as well as genuine nationalistic hatred of England itish - will make Britons question their stubbornness. Fall in line. You'll feel better.

Republican strategist: "Bush’s Magoo moment.” Mr. Magoo stumbles through accidents and always survives by dumb luck.

Not only Saddam and Al-Qaida (who seem to have no link now, as it seems - German records show that there was little evidence and a very tenuous link between this guy Zarqawi of Al-Qaeda and supposed connections to Saddam, because Zarqawi was treated medically in Baghdad one hot day; of course, this was pulled by Powell and presented to the Security Council as hard info, though the real records show nothing of the sort): we have someone new to blame for continuing American casualties down there in Iraq. A new player, al-Jamiya al-Salafiya al-Mujahida, an obscure jihadi group.

Peace Ambassadors (some of whom are Inglewood residents) calm racial tensions after failure to convict in a white cop beating of black teen case. Wow. No Rodney King this time around. No LA riots, no burning buildings, no looting and rampages...

The House of Reps votes to give US consumers access to US made drugs that are sold more cheaply in Canada and overseas. This is good, yet bad at the same time. Drug companies will lose a lot of revenue because now they have to sell so cheaply, reducing the motivation to create better drugs. However, we can get treated cheaper - with only drugs that are available now, of course. We might not have too many new ones in future. (Lots of crime involved here though: drug companies might not have to continue their inveterate espionage, brutality tactics and strong arming of native cultures with herb medicinal knowledge, and drug smugglers running cancer meds across the border won't have so much business)

Reporter buys fake ID from big Russian who speakee no English; has all things required (DOB, for us, fo' sure) but hologram says "genuine". Haha. On back, it says "card data supported by truth pledge". As if that would stop someone. Reporter then uses card to enter high security Time-Life building, then even higher security JFK Airport (which had those guys wash up 400 feet from the runway without any security people noticing them till after they were playing around by the planes), and finally, to cashing a check. Tighter security in New York? Reporter proves his point.

A week or so ago, a building on 11th and Spruce had an electrical fire which promptly burned the entire building, leaving only the structure standing but everything else entirely unusable, as well as having a whole chunk ripped out of it. Thirty tenants were left with nothing and need new places to stay; two girls who just moved in before the fire lost everything (they were on the same floor as the fire start location). An area covering 20 blocks or so was blocked off for a while pending decisions on what to do and when to do, as well as how to do. News from Jen, leasing agent and humany sympathizer extraordinaire.

Bush declares Illinois student (a Qatari) an enemy combatant. First, Justice files criminal charges against him. A high priced law firm comes back at them, paid by Qatar. Then - where it all becomes very very much obvious that Bush is running a police state (along with Guantanamo Bay, where no word comes out of - ever. That's still in Cuba too, where Fidel is still buddy buddy wink wink with Bush even through his gross human rights violations), this kid is thrown into a military brig in Charleston. Held indefinitely, with no access to lawyers or opportunity to contest charges against him. Are we still in a time of war? Because that's what you do in times of war, in the place of war - run military kangaroo tribunals and summary judgments. But we are out of war, as Bush has said many times, and we are still in America. Terrorist he might be, but with no access to anything that could help establish if he was guilty or innocent (beyond the "suppressed evidence"), he's been pronounced guilty, and destined for the chair with no possibility of return.

In another police state story, Faris - another accused "sleeper agent" like the Illinois guy - was "implicated" by the September 11 mastermind but never charged, whereupon he suddenly disappeared. Communications with friends and relatives stopped, he never showed for traffic court (he had parking tickets), and his phone number was deactivated. Speculation from this point on: he is in "limbo detention" with a small number of other terrorist suspects. This is done, supposedly, to limit interference from lawyers and the public (shady enough as this reason is....no chance for defense at all). They are being strongly encouraged to cut deals and snitch on their friends. Strongly encouraged? We'll up the voltage on your balls if you don't sign, Mr. Faris. Ow, ow, ok, stop, I want my mommy. They say that these guys are technically free to go, but not really. What does that mean? This is America, again, and people are innocent until proven guilty. But in Ashcroft's eyes, we are all guilty until proven innocent. And even then, we are still guilty. His reasoning? Prevention of future crimes (hint of Pre-Crime etc.). We all have the capabilities to be future criminals, so of course anybody we find within our scope - they're guilty. Or they will be.

Humanitarian intervention in Liberia? Where it's needed? And don't tell me we can't. We went into Iraq to help the good guys in the Middle East out, right? Or was that joke "I need your help getting all that Iraqi oil for me" letter really true?

AUGUST 13, 2003

So this just in - An Evening with Joe: Stalin the Musical, is appearing at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival, written and directed by Cambridge student James Stevens. Songs include the Gulag Rag, Mrs. Stalin Regrets and Sweet Stalin, I'm In Love Again! This seems to be really funny, and not without reason, it's being lambasted and drawn up as rather too cheery support for Stalin, that mad Russian who was our ally in World War II. Stevens notes that they're missing the point. In not so many words, he tells the public that Stalin is much funnier than Hitler, because Stalin was a way better mass murderer. Even we're afraid to blacken his name now.

The Daily Express, a London tabloid, reports that "William the deer killer sparks fury." Apparently he can not only cause preteen girls to keel over at the mere sight of his royal personage, but also vanquish small antelopes in the Kenyan wilderness merely by - oh wait, he cheated. He used a spear.

Ben Affleck: "In fact, probably after the towering success of ‘Gigli,’ I suspect Miramax will find a way to sell it as other than a ‘Me-and-Jen’ movie."

Ooh, ooh. Another reason not to drink those crazy Chinese and African home medicines..."folk remedy may raise cholesterol, not lower it."

Now I know what happened to Steve! Researchers recently discovered a correlation between patients being treated with a Parkinson's drug and a sudden compulsive gambling habit. As soon as these guys stopped getting the drug, they immediately changed their address from Atlantic City to debtor's prison and filing Chapter 7's in local court.

Penn students less likely to get Alzheimer's disease. Everybody except Whartonites, that is. Keeping the mind active protects against the debilitating disease - more intelligent and better educated people use their brains differently than farmboys from Iowa and their relatives. Amanda wanted to go to Sweden for study abroad? Why not Denmark? They've got a newly opened driverless subway. They've got Hans Christian Andersen. They've got huge flower gardens. They've got a gazillion hours of sunlight. They have Christiania (hippie town in an abandoned military barracks, created in 1971 by flower power Danes pushing nudity, free mary jane and no rules), the first country to legalize pornography then follow that up with a widely celebrated international sex fair. They've got hot Nordic chicks who smuggle themselves across the border from Sweden. Their guys aren't all porn stars with bushy mustaches. And - they have a figurehead queen (Marguerite) that everyone actually loves. Wow.

Try North Korea. They are open to tourism, but, according to Lonely Planet, "if you're from the U.S. or South Korea you can pretty much forget about it." Trips cost around $2000, and obviously, things are a little tight. No pictures of slave labor, no making Kim Sr. or Kim Jr. look like the perverts and crazy dictators that somehow, maddeningly, stabilized North Korea and depressed the population so that even though they're all starving, none of them want to rebel and all the money is still spent on buying nuclear weapons. And tour guides for the silly tourists who might get thrown in jail for 10 years for something ridiculous - like poor Mohammed something-or-other who returned home to Iran and was arrested and thrown in jail for 50 days or so by Islamic clerics, for the crime of gyrating on straight-to-video (and satellite TV, on rare occasions) that Islamic women are buying by the ton.

Ooh, more problems with the "Axis of Evil". For some reason, Cuba ain't on this list, though they've been the Communist nation closest to our borders all through the Cold War, almost provoked a nuclear war between us and Russia... The rest comes with more Bush complicity (another reason to question Bush's wisdom in international politics). The many Cuban Air Force pilots who shot down American planes in international air space were never sought after by the Bush government. Jamming of US broadcasts to Iran (Iran rears its ugly head again) have not been protested, though the jamming comes from the Iranian Embassy in Havana which cannot operate without the complicity of Cuba. American citizens, by a Bush order, cannot sue foreign speculators who profit off of stolen American properties in Cuba. A Cuban arrested for skyjacking was denied permission to testify in his defense that he feared for his life if he surrendered to Castro. And then the final straw. The 12 Cubans who hijacked a boat to come over to America were not given a chance for a trial - by secret agreement with Castro, the 12 were immediately given ten years jail time. The all important Florida vote was won by Bush because of the Cuban American voter turnout - and I think he just lost their support. Thanks to Creative Collective.

Now for some problems with real Axis countries. For the record, I oppose the title Axis of Evil, but it's useful to get at what I'm trying to say. One of the human shields who went to Iraq to protest and stop the American war effort (which I hold in extreme contempt, seeing that all the proof - as supported by at least three sources in Britain, including that dead guy and the reporters - that Iraq had WMD's were just bullshit... and that we are spending more money, losing more men and angering the Iraqis and the rest of the world more than what happened in Gulf War I) is now being aggressively pursued by the Justice Department for non-payment of thousands of dollars in government fines, all of which she refuses to pay. If she continues, the officials say, the fine will increase and the money taken from her retirement paycheck, Social Security and her assets, forcibly. Now put up your hands if this is grossly unfair. I think the US is trying to make a pariah out of this woman, in the hopes that we will learn a lesson if we cross our government. 1) She didn't do any overt violent actions against the government. All her "actions" were words and mere presence. Apparently, it's illegal for her to go to Iraq when the government says so. Other than my opinion that the war was and stil lis wholly unjustified, why do they pursue this old lady, who wasn't even actively helping the enemy? 2) We have our rights. Unfortunately, Bush and Rumsfeld and Ashcroft have improved on our National Security Statutes so much so that anything I say and do can and will be used against me because the government can do anything under the guise of national security. And then, not have to tell you, ever, because it's National Security. So, our rights under the Declaration and the Constitution are not really our rights. But that's ok - I can survive the present. I can see, though, how easily the Bush government's "progress" can be twisted and abused.

Caligula was really a crazy old coot. New evidence shows that Caligula utilized the Temple as part of his palace, saying "I live with the gods. To get to them, you must pass me." (in paraphrase of someone else).

You can't cancel the spam you receive through Ticketmaster, when you buy tickets.

All the big companies send spam - they do it by hiring lead generators or affiliates, who outsource the spamming so that no dirtiness touches their hands. The solution to spam? Everyone in the world has to stop replying to them, then it would be very unprofitable to send any at all. After all, the spam only makes our email services more expensive or slower, makeas the ISP's rich (who charge for traffic) and makes the big companies subtly richer.

Shortage of monkeys. We're gonna have to recruit all those incoming freshmen now... but seriously, scientists are running out of rhesus macaques to test out new drugs and therapies on. Please donate yourself to science.

I read a Clive Cussler book called Blue Gold the other day. The madman in the book takes control of the world's water because she knows there will be a water shortage..then, I read this. 2 million tons of waste are dumped into our water sources every year, and 7 million people eventually die of waterborne diseases. On top of all of this, a half century will see the entire current world population count suffering from water scarcity.

The ultimate prank. Put a virus on someone's computer that downloads porn (and worse, child porn) and illegal materials before sending it to everyone on their mailing list. It makes the unwitting computer user look guilty and really screw around with proving guilt when web surfing is in the picture.

Denver, Colorado. A city with some really retarded people. Take Jeff Peckman. he collected 2500 signatures on a petition that asked the city to do more to reduce stress, which forced city council to either implement the measure right away or get the city to vote. The city is going to vote, and council members are complaining. I would. What the hell is the city going to do? Solve all my problems? ALlt he taxes in the world wouldn't do that. Playing mood music in the park? I'd get pissed at the bad music selection and shoot out the speakers. Free yoga? Bunch of pansies in office. I'd vote them out, after taking a free yoga class. Peckman, in support of his petition, said "give peace a chance." What the hell does that have to do with his petition? What did I say? Retarded. Yup.

One last thing. RIAA is going to now sue student downloaders despite fear of PR backlash. They think that by making an example of a poor unwitting student who will be scarred for the rest of his life by huge fines and jail time, a newly minted criminal record and no possibility of getting a good job, all for something that the rest of society has accepted. Our society is described as a democracy, yet it is actually a republic, where representatives do most of the decision making for us, in our best interests, rather than us doing it directly. We are built as a capitalistic society - yet, we support the Democrats (I do too) and offer a lot of human services, thus defeating the capitalist ideals. So what's the big deal? It's not like we're really in support of the "let the artist not suffer." The artists that deserve attention get the attention, and we still buy the artists whom we truly love. The ones that we don't really love but just want to have, we download and "steal". This is stealing from the recording companies they say. The artist already makes so little because the recording company steals most of it away. And for those that actually do see most of the money? They make too much! So really, it's just lower profits for the recording industry to take home. Don't tell me the artist needs all that money; it never makes it all the way there. Personally, I am a hardened criminal. Along with every single one of my friends, I have taken part in this "criminal" enterprise, and along with everyone under 40, have become thus sueable, if the RIAA can poke out every one of us. If one of my friends becomes a pariah to the RIAA, I would be very mad. Mad enough to start an organization to fight the RIAA and expose the hypocritical nature of society's stance. Music should be free - we create it, we listen to it, we enjoy it. When we feel it is warranted, we pay. But do we shoot the people that climb in trees to watch concerts from farther away? No. They merely have an obstructed view.

And ClearChannel is way too big. Megacorporations are somehow... wrong. There is just something scary about huge monopolies. Comcast is another, as is AOL Time Warner. All this concentrated media power; we can get brainwashed without realizing it. I know I am fooled most of the time.

AUGUST 9, 2003

memory

passing of a poet to the end of time
a mote in the eye of the unknown
wondrous beauty and romance wrapped
as a dying rose to its thorn, partnered
in death, in life and futures hence
black shadows cross her face, a tear
to that which she never knew, gone
forever, and ever, for better days
have past and all that remains
is heartache, loss and loneliness.

When Lord Byron died, it is astonishing the remembrances left by his passing. Mary Shelley writes: "Can I forget his attentions and consolations to me during my deepest misery? Never. Beauty sat on his countenance and power beamed from his eye - his faults being for the most part weaknesses induced one readily to pardon them." His former lover Caroline Lamb broke down at his funeral procession, as did Mary Shelley. Poet John Clare writes that "when the train of funeral suddenly appeared, on which a young girl that stood beside me gave a deep sigh and uttered 'Poor Lord Byron'... I looked up at the young girl's face. It was dark and beautiful, and I could almost feel in love with her for the sigh she had uttered for the poet." He went on to compliment Lord Byron by saying that the "common people felt his merits and his power, and [they] are the best feelings of a prophecy of futurity." His commemorative stone at Westminster Abbey (his body was refused in 1824) reads "but there is that within me which shall tire, Torture and Time, and breathe when I expire." W

hy poetic memory in this case? I sit back and contemplate exactly why a lot of modern day poetry does not appeal to me - after reading an editorial on poetry, I have come to realize that the author may be right. She mentions that "poetry is not merely a booster for self-esteem. Now it's specifically written for a certain audience." To me, writing - not only poetry - is a booster for self-esteem and when I write, it is not for an audience. When I pick up a modern poet, it seems to me that it really is written for a specific audience, because one always refers to this or that person as the foremost female poet, the African American voice, the folk element, the angst of all those singer songwriter poets and therefore, they should be talked about, parsed and chopped into pieces for consumption through Oprah and pc and culturally sensitive media outlets of that sort. The author then goes on to say this.

"Most of life is detritus. It has to be, and it's often enjoyable. But there are moments when we need something beautiful and true and meaningful. It could be a kiss from the love of your life, or watching the stars at 3 am, or walking around your neighborhood, or listening to your favorite song, or - perhaps - reading a poem. A poem. A genuine poem. A work of art which takes you outside yourself and makes you think and feel in unexpected and magical ways."

I am proud to be the namesake of Lord Byron - why? Was it because he was a notorious womanizer that slept with the most attractive women in England during his day, even while they were married to important personages? Was it because he inspired mad devotion from his slavish lovers? Was it because he was a young nobleman in search of glory and grandeur? Was it because of his passions, or his heroism, eventually dying on a Greek beach in the Greek rebellion? Or was it because he too, was an inner outcast and full of regrets?

His personal history aside, it has become evident to me that it is his poetry that really calls out to me, and the closeness of his passions to my own that draws me to reading his work. In the Atlantic Monthly, author Pyre mentions this: "Byron's liveness, Byron's directness, his intellectual dauntlessness, his ethical cogency, his wholesome contempt for social and artistic futility, his reckless valiancy of spirit, his very faults even, will be educative always, will always cry rebuke to the putterers and patchers of poetry." His regrets and sorrows are evident throughout his writing, and even his most famous poem, "she walks in beauty."

alternative

angry, lashing out, stop watching!
stop telling me what to do, i'm sick,
i can't take any more of these things,
can you stop laying it on so thick?
i play my guitar, break some strings,
scream my heart out to make you feel
that what we had was more than a fling
and i can't move, i can't heal
what can i do? every beat of the drum
marks out my heart breaking again
this is the worst day, i'm getting numb
to the sight of those other men
the crackle of this mic can't hide
your broken voice, and all the pain there
you tell me that i'm on my own side
it's the end of the whole affair
but if the love is long over and done,
why do i see you in the limelights?
why can i see your shadow, and the sun
ready, after the show, for one more fight?
i do all i can to forget about what was,
but you won't let go of my hand,
you sing, i play, we lust
it's the end, the end of our band.

Lord Byron wrote this poem, "My Soul Is Dark."

My soul is dark - Oh! quickly string
The harp I yet can brook to hear;
And let thy gentle fingers fling
Its melting murmurs o'er mine ear.
If in this heart a hope be dear,
That sound shall charm it forth again:
If in these eyes there lurk a tear,
'Twill flow, and cease to burn my brain.

But bid the strain be wild and deep,
Nor let thy notes of joy be first:
I tell thee, minstrel, I must weep,
Or else this heavy heart will burst;
For it hath been by sorrow nursed,
And ached in sleepless silence, long;
And now 'tis doomed to know the worst,
And break at once - or yield to song.

AUGUST 6, 2003

So ya hear about the new wave of terror bombings? There was Bali, then there was the Phillippine ambassador's residence, and then now, the Jakarta Marriott. The hotel was leveled and many Indonesians and 88 Australians were killed or injured in a blast of potassium chlorate set off by cell phone; Jemaah Islamiyah (JI) was held responsible. The leader of JI is in police custody and the trial of the JI mechanic who bought the car and materials for the Bali blast is just getting going. JI is linked by money to its parent, Al-Qaeda. Apparently, the terror network has a firm footing down in Asia. Now I'm worried because I have relatives that live in Jakarta, and this new menace is disturbing, especially to Christians and businesspeople, whom they and the religious fanatics are apparently targeting. In a country of 99.9% Muslims, it is a significant danger to be foreign and/or a Christian, as evidenced by the Time pictures a couple years ago that trailed a religious riot through a village on Sumatra (I think). Australia has apparently sent a lot of personnel to help the investigations and Megawati Sukarnoputri, daughter of President Sukarno (the general that held absolute power over Indonesia during the 60s and 70s), as Indonesian president with Golkar, said that she was putting all efforts into uncovering JI and the other terrorist cells and smashing them.

As for patriots, I must applaud Yang Jianli - who went home to China a true patriot, and was jailed for a year without a charge, and finally charged with espionage (based on some academic financial support from a Taiwanese foundation and sending a tiny sum of money to a Taiwanese friend) for his efforts. May you prove a thorn in China's frosty abusive feet.

HIROSHIMA, Japan (AP) -- The mayor of Hiroshima has criticized the U.S. for pursuing new nuclear weapons technology, as he marked the 58th anniversary of the world's first atomic bomb attack. Tadatoshi Akiba said Washington's apparent worship of "nuclear weapons as God" was threatening world peace. "The Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty, the central international agreement guiding the elimination of nuclear weapons, is on the verge of collapse," Akiba said during the annual ceremony held Wednesday at the Peace Memorial Park. "As the U.S.-British-led war on Iraq made clear, the assertion that war is peace is being trumpeted as truth." ... the Bush administration wants Congress to approve $68 million for research into advanced nuclear weapons technology, including research on a ground-penetrating nuclear warhead, known as a bunker-buster, and smaller, so-called mini-nukes, of less than 5 kilotons.

Now why is Bush trumpeting so publicly for more nuclear weapons research? This is really a slap in the face of Muslim countries, incensed that Bush started a war on the basis of possible WMD's in Iraq that haven't shown up, who think that he's keeping everyone else down. Not only them, but Asian countries, taking from the example of North Korea. They refuse North Korea the right to create their own nuclear weapons because they are a threat; while they might be a threat, the US doesn't have the moral high ground any more with its own breakage of the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty. What in hell is it going for? Bush is trying to be a moral man, a good Christian - getting himself into trouble with his fundamentalist standpoint on gay marriages - but his hypocritical stand on global power structures and defensive capabilities is really really WRONG. Which aslo means he has terrible PR. Fire your press secretary and learn how to do things more secretly. You passed that Official Secrets Act anyway, so use it. I dare you to.

Charles Krauthammer writes in Time that many don't want American military presence around. For example, old Europe who wants free of the American presence. He writes that Eastern Europe would welcome the US because they remember who saved them. Who saved them?? This guy is a consummate horse's ass! he wants Empire Lite - fine, a good idea - but not when his backup for Empire Lite is the fact that many don't want us around, so we must be nimble, mobile and undeterrable. Just like mosquitoes that everyone swats but misses. Huh, nice going Mr. Krauthammer. Good points, but you're still a snobby, arrogant ass. I don't think I'll read his column again.

More on Iraq. Another article reminded me of something: "Under Security Council Resolution 1483, legal authority in Iraq is held not by the U.N. but by the occupying powers, the U.S. and Britain. As long as that is the case, nations like India, France, Russia and Germany won't send in their troops." No wonder! Help out, but your people are puppets in our hands while they're here. We order them around, not you. And not the UN either. Damn! The article suggested that the UN do what it had in Sierra Leone: keep the peace in the peaceful areas surrounding the war torn place, like Kurdistan which always supported the war, and let outside independent forces crush rebellion elsewhere. This is to deal with the problem already there. Iraq needs its own leaders, which are in short supply, because America isn't letting them breathe independent air. They do not identify America as their political master. Unless we want to be dictators in the middle of the Middle East, we have to cede Iraq to its own leaders, and whether it be a good or bad thing, it has to happen, or we will be reviled, our soldiers will rebel and forcibly run home, we will spend more money on taxes going to Iraq and Bush will get more flak than he might if he lets go and watches what happens. If he didn't want the consequences, why did he go in?

And then Americans who abuse their own freedoms... the love for lawsuits and an egregious socialistic pursuit of companies who make money - the fast food companies - is a really disgusting American trend that is hardly replicated at such a scale anywhere else in the world. Where else would you sue and win because you spilled coffee on yourself and it was "hot"? Or spill your drunk and then slip on it, suing for negligence for not cleaning it up? Or suing the owner fo a dog that hurt you after you kept on poking it with sticks? Or getting locked in a house and getting "mentally anguished", all while trying to rob that same house, and winning millions of dollars for it? I'm telling you, these jerkoffs who file frivolous lawsuits are really abusing freedoms that are hard to come by elsewhere, and they make me really mad. So back to the fast food stuff - Judge Sweet first threw out the case filed by fat teens against the fast food companies for not telling them food was fattening. He ruled that customers knew the dangers of eating Big Macs and supersize fries - but ridiculously, that he questioned whether customers understood the risks of eating McDonald's chicken over regular chicken. This brings in a new lawsuit by the same fat willing-to-admit-they're-that-stupid-so-they-can-get-lots-of-money-from-McDonald's (and their lawyers, who were kin of the laywers who enjoyed stealing all of the settlement money from the tobacco I-didn't-know-they-could-kill-you lawsuits). The lawsuit alleges deceptive advertising, failing to adequately disclose additives and processing methods that make its food less healthful. Other such lawsuits allege hyperactive marketing to children - these are SO retarded. OMG (i don't use that much, but this requires it) HOW the HELL can our legal system work well with cases like these clogging up the system? Time mentions this: "Lawyers claim, for example, that some fast-food restaurants deliberately raise the temperature at which they cook their fries to increase the amount of fat absorbed." This is because obesity is now seen as a societal problem, and your eating problems are the fault of all those advertisers and marketers who trick you into getting fat (as opposed to all the media asking you to be stick thin?? these dumbasses are pulling any excuse they can out of nothing!!). These lawsuits are "justified" by the fact that they cost the country more than $100 billion to combat - but what are we spending the money on? Tobacco - um, smoking patches for everyone? Obesity - fat camps? OK, fine, heart disease and heart attacks and such, but most of this money comes from taxes that we pay to have people take care of us when we need to. And yes, it's a little unfair that sometimes we pay a little more and we don't reap the benefits; people who have all the health problems do. But it's your own fault if you're fat, unfit, unhealthy and unloved. Not McDonald's - yeah, they advertise to kids, but do they force you to walk in their doors? Next, the urban poor. Sue all the clothing companies, marketable good companies rather, the municipal and federal governments for allowing you to get poor by letting you pay taxes and buy all these pieces of crap that you don't really need, and justify it because we pay for welfare in the billions of dollars. Give them a couple hundred million, take a lot of people out of the running, and everyone's happy. No? Oh, I thought that would work. Oh, actually, it's more money in the lawyer's pocket, because he gambled on winning, and look, there's only one winner. Him. There's one lawyer loving this, and also all of his students. In the interests of the public, he is supporting and creating more cases against McDonald's and related companies because they promote unhealthiness. John Banzhaf, legal activism prof at GW University - dumb bastard, he boasts about a 12 million dollar settlement with McDonald's..."that was a bunch of legal students. think what a legal firm could do." He also threatened lawsuits against Seattle school boards who were going to renew contracts with Coca-Cola if they went through with it. The school boards went through with it, against his threats - but that threat was just totally, morally wrong. He was promoting public safety but yet, he was threatening to pull money away from the public by embroiling school districts in his little grudge matches. Farther along in this Time article, they mention that a lot of people are heading toward this arena, fresh out of law school and wanting to create a career out of roasting these companies over a slow, hot fire. These guys try to hide out under the public protection and safety umbrella, but this member of the public doesn't buy it. Get off your high horse and get your hand out of the till; we don't need more fools burdening our already burdened legal system, with the highest concentration of criminals in the world.

Ugh, and suddenly there's a movie about Jessica Lynch. While she did indeed suffer much trauma, I don't think any movie could do her justice; I think it will just make her ashamed inside, when viewers will undoubtedly get a distorted view of her tragedy. And - since Iraq is hardly over - don't you think it's too early for one too? This is just getting ridiculous. The full story's not even over and TV movies are getting railed out, over and over and over. I don't watch TV movies any more ("The Story of...") because they're predictable, they're horrible and they don't tell the story as I think it did happen. Which says a lot about the other people watching these movies.

AUGUST 5, 2003

Something came to me today that hasn't hit in a while - a real need for characterization. It's a little weird to say just like that, but let me describe. Most people we pass by are just that - people we pass by. They don't need any description because you can usually tell what they are, though that's usually a stereotype. Like the really bad ones about Asians in the science departments and Russians in the math department... of course, you know what I'm talking about, so I don't need to clarify that. Or the overworked mom with 50 children in quadruple strollers, some of which are commandeered by Dad and the little one hanging and crying on Mommy's pant leg and crying, her chocolate stained face screaming "I want Button, my button, play ON button!" Or the little old man who is forced to walk 10,000 miles from the bus stop to his post at Logan Hall. Well, fine, it's not miles, but he's old, tottering and unsure whether his heart is still ticking. Or the club princess, or the late twenties grad student trying to live the early twenties life and not quite making it, or the middle aged grunts working on the billion and a half construction projects all around campus, complaining over soggy lettuce on soggy rye bread with mayo and sardines that his wife can't handle it any more and wants a divorce and i so need a beer, and remember that pistons game 3 months ago, why did they want to trade him, and damn my check came in under usual pay rates and my taxes were raised and my aunt's getting hip surgery again and the plastic pool in back split and broke, and my house in south philly is still double mortgaged and ownership after i give up the ghost reverts not just to the bank but to the republican party, martha stewart and the devil. well, see what it is? it's characterization - because sometimes their lives are worth remembering. Actually, they always are, but we choose to forget about that. I looked at a few people and wondered how they came about being at penn, and why they looked so sad, and what their interrelationships were with the various denizens of philadelphia that i see as i walk the streets every day... why does that guy in the suit shake hands with the smelly bum? why do none of his friends want to look at the bum, and why do we always call them the homeless rather than bum, or vagrant, or hobo? If I was in that situation, I wouldn't mind being called any of those names, but homeless softens all the raw anger and desperation in the situation. Why does the bum settle for a friendly handshake in the morning and never asks that guy for any money, and why does he ask everyone else for money? And why does the nurse sitting under the trees by the emergency exit at HUP start crying some days, the tears washing away some of her mascara? And why does that sophomore, more mature than the ridiculously hopeful freshman suddenly lose all confidence that he or she built up in the past two years and want to run and hide, and lament the passing of the time-when-i-didn't-have-to-decide-the-rest-of-my-life? I'm interested because I suddenly understood that there's a story everywhere. Looking at it from a critical writer's viewpoint and that of the watchful observer (rather like me watching TV, involved but not involved, ya know) opens up the world so much and then I feel that my pain is rather insignificant; that there is so much more pain and anger and raw human emotion in the million people that surround me than my feelings of frustration or maddening rage or loneliness or depression. I start feeling everybody's pain and I stop for a second to let my soul catch up with me. Then for a while, I block it all out. Before I finally fall asleep, I'll remember things and than it'll all come back - the sadness or the happiness, whichever, and all of a sudden, there's hope because tomorrow, tomorrow, well.... zzzzzz.

AUGUST 4, 2003

Ode to the Milk in the Fridge

The way the light shines
off your frothy surface,
I imagine it spiraling
its way into space,
Illuminating the means
by which you came around.
"She walks in beauty,
like the night,"
and porcelain fingers
curled about your handle,
does this emptiness realize
what it means to me?
Flowery strips, guarding
sheaves of wheat standing
Still and straight on
lazy days in June.

JULY 29, 2003

So apparently it takes 2-3 minutes for a phone to get almost stolen by one person and finally stolen by another...

So talking about fave music - I heard the Remedy and couldn't stop listening. I heard Too Much Food and I felt like I couldn't get enough. Then, I heard Sleep All Day and Summer Breeze both at once, and realized - hey, I HAVE to go and see Jason Mraz's concert! And he was recently released on TRL! Look everybody, he has a blog! I was looking at other music and rediscovered Chantal Kreviazuk, one of my people...Canada's own. She's kind of pretty, and she had a song I really like a while back. I guess she's returning to the fringe mold from whence she came.

I'm going wild over the blog thing - apparently I have so many random interests that I'm gonna have ten thousand different lines of thought all trying to crowd my mind-to-screen work at the same time, like now. I read Slate earlier today and felt this article was worth mentioning - I never knew anything much about current Russian and Chinese relations other than in the diplomatic sense, so I was a little more enlightened.

Don't ask me how I ended up here...but some of these words ar hilarious and who thought them up? I dunno, but... and how in hell do you exactly end up being post-cool? Too cool for the rest of you losers? And an art show to boot? What are you guys thinking? I don't need to see good art labeled as something that's beyond me. Thanks for the heads up, guys. We're all so over.

Oh, so apparently, on the day of my MCAT, you can go all out in the t-dot and get some fuckin' flash in the middle of Nathan Phillips Square (where I saw Shawn Desman, though I'm sure none of yall have heard of this crooner - listen to the Gap soundtrack, I think you'll hear him on there). And quoted from another blog: "But yeah. The email account’s toast. The blog (this blog, at least) is dead. I’m busy with other stuff at the moment. And Nicholas isn’t doing much right now. So. But thanks for asking." I should add a link, but that one was kinda disturbing. I quoted that last part as the only sane part of the whole thing.

Looking around at other blogs, I realized - just as there are so many more porn sites than normal sites - that there are so many sex related blogs than normal ones. And who's to say what's normal? Why read something called the "Morning After" on a page titled "from a sex addict who hasn't had it in a while"? Why read a gay man's blog that's all about the guy's mom? Seriously now...I wouldn't mind reading a little about his mom, but this needs some real psychologic unraveling.

But then we find the cool magazines, that explore weird issues that we never were really aware that we were supposed to be pondering, like a deadly obsession with domesticated reason. So the guy is worried about us worrying about civilization and what it all means. But that question has existed since the beginning of time. Why are we here? Why do we exist? Most of the time, we shrug our shoulders and get back to living, and sometimes we can't figure it out and shoot ourselves, and sometimes we write silly articles degrading our lack of faith in our existence as nothing, and our civilization in comparison as "chains" that must be thrown off! Though I've gotta say, Adbusters sometimes just makes you laugh. Creative resistance, all the way.

And this little thing, for the princess in you...well, go for it. And lock your bedroom, and never ever have someone over for the night. Before they run screaming away from you and your pretensions to royalty. And audblog blogs up Liz Phair's Why Can't I....haHA! Somebody else likes this song too! I am NOT alone!!! Woohoo...

So, if you've been noticing, Maxim's Hometown Hotties are MUCH hotter this time around, and obviously they list measurements. Wait, obviously? They didn't have that first time around!! Wait, this would kind of fall in with me watching White Oleander last night. As Kelly said, what a typical GUY thing. A

nd seriously, sometimes it's not worth knowing if you're one of these or not...

Then, there's these suspicious semi-cool Asian things which seem to want me to get back into the between two world groove again and admit I'm not white. Oh wait, I'm not? I forget sometimes...until I look in the mirror in the morning, wonder why I'm not partying it up at Lambda or rapin the ganja with the FOBs or ABCs or CBCs, and realize that I'm gonna be an in the cracks kid (and on crack! CIA, Contras, Bloods, Crips, gang warfare, LA's drug problem...behind the scenes makes the world go round!) for the rest of my life. Three cheers for the Asian (and oh yeah, there's hope for me getting into bars before I graduate, besides all those shady Ethiopian places). And then for a normal weblog, like some of the rest of the world. And maybe spice up the page somewhat, ya know?

And the end of pop. Though i could have done a better job, had I the energy to do that.

JULY 28, 2003

An excerpt from the Dose, hehe, so observant:

I'm waiting for them to announce that SARS is somehow related to the same disease that causes asian food court employees to actually believe that yelling loudly at people, even with toothpick sample in hand, is an effective way to attract more eager customers.

So what's this I see in CNN about the first gay school to be opened in New York? (correction: gay, lesbian and bisexual, for the PC crowd) First of all, I was surprised to see New York being halfway PC itself (in reference to Harvey Milk and actually listening to some of these community rights organizations) and then to actually put some TLC into its choices (tender, loving care)! Whoa, and I used to think that New York just didn't care about the little guy! While I think it is good for homosexuals to be saved some of the anguish from physical and mental torture in normal public schools, I agree that the new school itself might not be the greatest idea - separated classrooms within a school that still allow some integration with, for better or worse, the rest of society, would be much more advisable, as they allow both parties to be adjusted to the realities of life and how people are treated out there in the real world. There would be, I assume, some kind of stigma and separate standards ascribed to a school that was set apart as for gay students. This could turn out to be a harmful venture rather than a beneficial one. Just an observation... and back to work before my boss catches me playing astute observer.

Just a thought: this is a web-log but not a blog....yet. Chronicle? Yes. Editorialization? Yes. Catalogue of the Interesting and Bizarre Elsewhere on the Net? Nope, not yet. Rehaul? No. I like it as is. But look for some crazy links soon enough

Unfortunately, d-eah, you have no id-eah that what you've done for us has settled that question for-evah, and that nuthin you will ever do will bring all-us back to where we ah today, y'unner-stand me?

So where were we? Oh yes, I had just stepped out the door - to get a dose of yam'cha no less. In the Americanized ethnicized anglicized italicized version of boldly authentic Chinese cuisine that exists on this side of the Eastern Seaboard, we have dim sum, potluck, delivery-takeout-fried chicken wings, foul leftovers and sticky-icky-icky's that should have been left in the slime that they think is cooking oil. Though I'm not complaining - a trip to BC in a few weeks will put everything straight again... But back to the little anecdote of Sunday. I was going with Rachel and her two Asian homies (I call them homies only because we Asians like to call ourselves silly things like that, as if we weren't really Asians but black people in Asian disguise, or white black-wannabes in Asian disguise, who in turn happen to want to look white....actually, our Asian identity is severely confused. And I'm not just talking Confucius-ed - imagine an Asian who never really hangs out with Asians, stays as far away from the Asian cliques as possible but comes home to a family full of Asians who look and act Asian and ponder what happened to the silly half-gweilo nephew...and you'll find me somewhere there. Yeah. Amazing, ain't it. But I digress - some time I'll spout out more of this weird phenomena) for some food at a dim-sum palace; I was expecting a nasty Joy Tsin Lau experience or Desert Inn cocktail with Best of Philly 1974 still stuck, faded in the window, or pushcarts with food leftover from the Reagan years still being served. Hmm, this place almost looked good. Well, it wasn't bad, to tell the truth. It satisfied my hunger for ha'cou and ho fun but I still left a little hungry. Thank god it was cheap. I had a good time actually. Rachel's friends were of course, science, and doing the MCATs, like every other Asian on the planet, and the boyfriend was an RC like Sylvia was. Actually, Sylvia showed up with 12 of her girls and they got seats before we did, a table of 4... they finished up way before we were done, and their table was out of the way. Funny how things work out. Sylvia looked a doll as usual - when I see her from far, I wonder if she's real. I actually know a bunch of the RCs now - Sylvia, that guy, Bree, Magda, that girl who came to our party, Steve and one other person that I met.

And then, going home with Dennis. I was with an incredible lightness of spirit even though it was thick thick thick for many many hours. Over the next few hours in the car and at home, we touched on painful family issues between all of us and also in my mom's past, and my dad's past, and troubles I have right now - and that lightness helped patch the whole thing together. By the time I left today, I had gotten the parents to renew confidence in me (they even apologized to me, weird, huh), fixed things with my brother, dealt with all my business (school taxes SUCK, rebate checks RULE), rediscovered speeding and having 4 close brushes with the police with my mom in the passenger seat and NOT minding at all - thank goodness I am a great driver and she trusts my driving; she looks like she'll have a heart attack when driving with my dad. Dentist, seems like I'm grinding again - stupid stressing MCATs!!! NO cavities... Back to school, argument with landlord - but now, I can stay as long as I fix the damn moulding. Thing is, he wanted me out so he could rent the WHOLE first floor for more to a couple and I was in the way. I put my foot down and said the room was MINE, not yours bucko, and legally too, and that I would fix the moulding and get off my back. "OK," he says, "you cooperate with me and I cooperate with you." Too bad he started out with "get out" and ended with acceding to me and saying that last part. Mom saw that argument too - NOT cool. She thinks he's a greedy asshole, so it's all good (some of her friends are lawyers too...so I have that and Law School ppl and Jen, Bret and my leasers as backup). Back at work, did a whole shitload this morning by way of working - splitting, refeeding, developing, a gel run this afternoon. Kaplan Center tonight after dinner. Who wants some MCAT, baby?

All I could think about this weekend was that she is the one and I should not miss this opportunity. All my worries begone, b-52's and the love-shack right in! Tread as if on broken glass though, pitfalls everywhere, hiyo Silver and back to work.

JULY 24, 2003

This may be the last thing that I write for long...can you hear me smiling when I sing this song for you? And only you....

Second paragraph! You can tell I'm excited about it... I wanted to keep it secret until I finished, but I thought I'd let everybody go ooh and aah over it.

Its awnings were ancient, and the marquee, far from readable. Yet it was painfully obvious – even to the struggling manager of the theater who prayed to almighty God every 5 minutes that this production should be a success and not turn him out into the street where a lot of his other fellow theatre junkies resided – that tonight at the Mercury Theatre, est. 1932, there was to be a production of something of importance. Maybe it was the cheap flashing lights strung up around the building, or the badly made circulars that were posted everywhere, or the grudging and suffering hawker who was paid to shout out the existence of a production on this very night, and for whom the job description did not include any mention of his present duties, for he did not think “an acting capability” included being posted on the sidewalk every night to scream at passerby. To the average man or woman, it would seem to resemble the multiplicity of plays that were performed monthly, kly and even daily. Unwanted, unwatched and unviewable. On closer look, however, it might also be seen that there was something else about this place and this production that would warrant a second look, and maybe even the price of a ticket…

So the first paragraph was some fo the words form the All-American Rejects' Last Song. It's a great song... but not so great as Phantom Planet's Anthem!

Hold, before I go into that one. You know in those movies where as someone leaves, the main character always runs up and says wait, I have to tell you something! And the someone turns around and says what? And then the main character has something witty to say and gets rewarded? Well, um. I got as far as the wait, I have to tell you something. Haha. Kick me now.

I woke up today, a song was swimming in my head and I hummed it to myself as I got out of bed. On the way to take a shower, it all just dawned on me that a song like this might just go down in history. I quickly ran back to get my guitar, a pen and some paper. 'Cause this whole world needs an Anthem, and I'm tryin' to put the words where they belong. Yeah, this whole world needs an anthem, and I'm hoping everyone will sing along. Oh, I quickly got to work and put the song in gear, and my neighbor rang the doorbell...said it caught his ear. I was playing it so loud the whole neighborhood could hear, and at night from every household, it became quite clear. Everyone just singing along, the same notes, the same song. Maybe I heard it wrong. 'Cause this whole world needs an anthem, and I'm tryin' to put the words where they belong. Yeah, this whole world needs an Anthem, and I'm hoping everyone will sing along. Everyone was singing along, the same notes, the same song. Maybe I heard that wrong. 'Cause this whole world needs an anthem, and I'm tryin' to put the words where they belong. Yeah, this whole world needs an Anthem, and I'm hoping everyone will sing along. I

think when the head turns, it expected a Bye! but I was surprisingly mute right at the moment. I make awkward goodbyes sometimes. Especially when my music is playing and one would know that I was here.

I burned the bottom of my pot the other day - made the house smell a little like burning paper for a half hour or so. Good thing when the door opens, wind does blow through here pretty well. And that burn mark on the counter...yikes, hopefully it's alright.

I can't help it, I need to give a third helping of Too Much Food (Jason Mraz, concert on August 12, woohoo!), actually 3rd paragraph of as yet Untitled.

Beside the dusty and blurry window of the ticket booth, a surprisingly clean glass case contained a few clippings from major newspapers: the Philadelphia Inquirer, “haunting last performance by members of OffStage”; the New York Times, “Philadelphia’s OffStage finally goes… off stage!”; and the Philadelphia Daily News, “why does it have to end? The best thing to hit Philadelphia theater in a decade brings itself to a self-proclaimed close.” It was unfortunate, then, that one would have to be interested already to actually notice the glass case. One would wonder, in fact, that there was anyone at all who even bothered to show up; in truth, the place looked kind of like a triple X theatre, or even an abandoned one with junkies and bums that one could imagine locking themselves up in this old and faded glory – for even with its generally nasty façade, the building was still an aged beauty, with long lost echoes of its lushness and elegance in ages past. Reminiscent of 30’s architecture, Hollywood style, there was still a reminder of the age of gangsters and molls, Prohibition honky-tonks and illegal stills, rockettes and golden geisha girls, and love to excess among the royal velvet seats and endless red tapestries strung along the cracked plaster walls. Some days, even the large dark water stains on the ceiling seemed impressive; they looked like a memento of the rich brown cigars once smoked in plenty among the elite and powerful that came here for their entertainment. Its one claim to legend, beyond its half-existence as a well-oiled bordello, was that several Philadelphia gangsters had started a gunfight within its walls that was later held as a parallel to the St. Valentines Day Massacre.

And now, it's time to live my day. Oh yeah, and I'm going home tonight...I really don't want to, because it's a dentist trip, but I gotta. So I'll be back to post on Monday- and get to see all my favorite people, and have thought of that something to say as that person is leaving. No more Silent Bob, nu-uh! Goodbye!

JULY 23, 2003

I don't really remember what I did earlier in the day - wait, actually, I do. It was a lonely Friday afternoon, made so by my own self-seclusion. I walked downtown and dwelled on the beauty of Philadelphia tha so many people don't seem to see. Walking through Washington Square, I felt a pang of sadness for the material lusts and shallowness of those who seemed to see nothing in the quirky and lively streets of Philadelphia. A chief complaint is the lack of things to do - take Penn's campus, as an example. There is nothing to do but watch a couple movies and eat at pizza places, kosher places and Indian buffets. But what one doesn't see is just around the corner. Instead of taking a cup at Cosi's, watch the people shop at FreshGrocer while sipping a cup of raspberry tea on the second floor. Eat a cookie at the Green Line Cafe, and imagine that the guitarist in the corner is playing just for you. Read the newspaper at the Cafe Paris. Have a drink at Gojjo's, flirt with the bartender-ess and play a round of pool with the shady Nigerians upstairs. Hang out at the store that doesn't sell that many things on 47th and bring a little life to the twenty something woman studying her fingernails, the black man taking a nap, the Hispanic kid having ice cream, the old guy smoking his cigarette and the fat woman dejected at her place at the table. Or, you can walk into the rest of Philadelphia. Go visit Philly's Bronx - South Philadelphia. Raid Center City for cheap restaurants (Joe's Pizza) and romantic restaurants (Astral Plane) and exotic restaurants (Alma de Cuba) and quirky bars (the Bards) and expensive bistros (Audrey Claire) and good seafood (Seafood Unlimited) and burning Mexican (Hot Tamales). Walk higher up into West Philly; check out the jazz lounges and have a forty with the bums that ask you, honestly, to have money for a forty, and then drink to your health a thousand times after that. Scalp tickets at the Electric Factory. Break at the Rotunda. Walk the proverbial dog in Schuylkill River Park. Call your local leasing agent, ask her to look at an apartment, and have a tour of that section of Philly with that hot local leasing agent girl even though you know deep inside that you really didn't want an apartment in the first place. Check out the drug scene at that apartment place on 11th Street. Look for Tommy under the Bridge near Penn's Landing; ask how much 500 in used bills and a mixer can buy a buddy some weight with the local fishies. Go look at pictures in the galleries down 3rd St. on days NOT called First Friday or Going Out Of Business Sale. Run around Old City and take a little break at the Polish American Museum and then tell the funny old lady that you're Polish from Japanese and Moroccan descent, your grandmother had two hussars before breakfast and two Mongolians 9 months later. Visit the Constitution Center and heckle Matt and Alex. Go to the Gallery and yell about how it sucks, then go to Liberty Place and spend all your money at Express. And then, try tell the person you love that you love them, and buy them a full bloom rose at FroGro for $1.69 plus tax. That's how you too can love Philly.

I got home, got ready to go to Rob's for a ridonculous time, and met Jen and company, on their way back from an Italian restaurant. I didn't think I could say anything to them about being so happy that it made me kind of sad; I knew I couldn't share some things like that, with a whole group. It was real personal I guess, for a crowd of one - and when she smiled, I smiled back. Waiting for the girls to get ready, I talked to Russell a little bit. He was the same old scattered self; he wanted the world without the sacrifice. Like me, on every other day. As the leaves blew around outside my window, I heard the familiar creaking and as they descended the stairs, I held my breath in amazement. Fast forward to a game of Beirut, me and Jen lose by 1... fast forward to a game of pool with Dan, then to seeing Laura again, and Mike, and Matt, and Eugene, and Naomi. That was my crowd; as I turned, the word was that the other crowd were going to Smokes. The juvenile, forever under 21 - I was hurting, for the age, the fake ID, the time, the happiness - and I couldn't force it. I let it go to a crowd of strange guys playing quarters that they had practiced to an art so that unsuspecting girls would get really drunk playing them. But, I underestimated intelligence. After a walk or two or three around the block, and another frank admission (though the next day), the door clicked open at 5 am, after I had already gone to sleep after watching AFV with Eugene and Naomi (who transferred from I think Bryn Mawr) and going home after sending Naomi back to Sig Ep house where Missy, Anjali, Ruth, Carmen and a couple others I have met live. It was a bittersweet night.

"Being friends is when you can sit together and not say anything at all and understand each other perfectly."

JULY 19, 2003

OK, so I wanted something new to do...give some more perspective then just a barf of words... so I stole this from Molly, who stole this from someone else. Adapted, of course. The rest can come some other time, like Sunday after I recover from the party AND finish the practice MCAT.

Last Library Book Checked Out: Tolstoy - Resurrection...this is a great book. For Russian lit buffs, read this... the issues are still relevant today.

Last Movie Seen In Theater: LXG, good adventure romp

Last Movie Seen at Home: Godfather II, with Jen's sketch HBO that I don't get downstairs...

Last Book Read: J.K. Rowling - Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

Last Beverage: Beer at Rob's...actually, I had a Pepsi after that at Philly Diner.

Last Food Consumed: Cheese Fries at Philly Diner.

Last Phone Call: Kathy - cut off as usual bc I was going out, again.

Last TV show watched: AFV, Simpsons with Eugene and Naomi at Eug's place

Last time showered: Tonight at 9 PM to get ready for an exciting night...um....right

Last Shoes worn: Nike sneaks

Last CD played: Alternative Mix... Phantom Planet - Anthem was the best song.

Last Item Bought: J.K. Rowling - Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

Last Downloaded: Detsl - Vecherinka, Russian feel good hip hop

Last Annoyance: Knowing I couldn't get into Smokes so not going.

Last Disappointment: Not being able to party with Jen and Amy, see above.

Last Soda Drank: Pepsi.

Last Thing Written: Besides this, my last Xanga last night. The private one.

Last Key used: House key - Jen got home before I did and they're sleeping at the moment? Sketch!!! It's 3 AM, and they got home earlier from the bar then I got home from chilling and watching TV with friends?

Last Word spoken: Goodnight. To Naomi, who lives with Missy and does the same internship program where they both work at Sayre Middle School - she works directly with Anjali, Rachel's friend - and she knows Ash, as the shady kid!

Last Weird Encounter: Finding out again how small this world really is.

Last Ice Cream Eaten: Scoop de Ville. Hot Apple Pie A La Mode

Last Time amused: After I gave Jen her present the other day... actually, talking to Naomi tonight too, and talking to Kathy.

Last Time Scolded: Last week. Silly fight with parents.

Last Chair Sat In: Eug's leather chair.

Last Underwear Worn: VS...haha, no. Joe Boxer.

Last Shirt Worn: Tommy shirt. Nice and white and cool...besides the fact that it IS Tommy.

Last Poster Looked At: My own of Miles Davis.

Last Show Attended: Breakdance show at the Rotunda

Last Webpage visited: Xanga

1 minute ago: I was writing this.

1 hour ago: hanging out with Eug and Naomi.

1 day ago: Staying home with the MCAT books.

1 week ago: watching Pirates and then party at Sig Ep.

1 year ago: In a nursing home. Working.

Current Stuff: Club dress - I am sleepy and have to wake up in 4 hours - listening to Panjabi MC - Pepsi taste in mouth - styled hair - want to sleep but don't exactly feel like it, hyper - stale beer smell - sleeping is what i should be doing - Keira Knightley (hehe, for desktop) - Pepsi drinking now - worrying about going to MCAT or Great Adventure

JULY 17, 2003

Now for the what have I done part - yesterday, after work (the usual crap there, but it's still fun), I went out to dinner with Rachel downtown at Marathon Grill. Now right before that, I had a slight problem. I could not get a hold of John Mayer tickets and was very upset at the prospect of having to shop for Jen's 21st birthday present the day before - or really, the day of, as we celebrated it that night at midnight. They were the perfect present; she had wanted to go with me for a long time, and I though it would be funny to give her both of the tickets and tell her, when she asked, that "I was hoping you'd ask me to go." Oh well. I looked for tickets and online stores were selling them for 85 bucks cheapest. That is way too much. Well, back to the problem. I was thinking of shopping for the present that night, but I assumed that everything closed at 7 pm, which was true upon closer analysis. I went with Rachel downtown - we walked all the way - and then to Marathon Grill, where I saw Andy, my next door neighbor. We laughed a little about how I see him everywhere and it was either I was following him or he was following me. The restaurant turned out to be cheap and great - I have to go there more this year. I had some good grilled BBQ chicken with spicy fries, and a whole lot of salad and something else - what was it? I can't remember, but it was great. Well, Kathy calls me while I am in the restaurant and so does Jen. Jen asked me if I was coming out with her to go celebrate; her friend Amy was in town from Pittsburgh.

Anyway, I felt really bad about having to call Kathy all the time when I was about to go out... Well, I put a hold on that and called Jen and laughed with her for a while, and said I was coming back. Rachel and I walked all the way back to campus - I also got a hold of Mike and asked him to come along, as this was her birthday thing. I called Kathy and talked to her for a while, but I had to go after Jen was like - we have to leave, like, right now and hurry up, and you're talking to a girl, aren't you. Haha...all these little mind games (oh, and that one is on the DL too).

Russell was there with Maya and so was her Penn boss and her brother, and me, Amy and Mike. I talked a lot with Amy and Mike and Jen's boss's brother, who is 22, works at Penn and lives in Center City. I was SO flirty...maybe it was the alcohol's fault. We went down to Dahlak where I had a shot of bourbon and then a Mind Eraser and a Long island Iced Tea, which all went down pretty quickly. Mike had a beer; Jen, Amy and the brother had Long Island Iced Teas. Russell and Maya I think also had Long Island Iced Teas - which all ended up on my tab. Ouch. Well, I got really really drunk and ended up walking home with a lot of support from Jen and Amy. I was pretty up with it until they went upstairs and I already wished them good night. After that, I ran downstairs and gagged a little and then passed out. I woke up on time, but was drunk, so I ended up going back to bed and missing work altogether. I could have gone a little bit, but how was I to explain away being drunk? Better to miss the whole day and put it down as a sick day. Hehe, but that's the way things go in the real world... everyone knows the truth but you can never come out and say it straight out.

Today I went out to a half lunch with Amy, who is a really interesting person - then I prepared the rest of my present to Jen. I made her two CDs that I think she really likes, a book named Jennifer Government which is really funny and also Goodnight Moon, the bestest kids book ever. I got her and Amy both single red roses, both in perfect bloom. The best part was that the whole thing - which she was so excited about - cost...oh, I better not say. But it is safe to assume that it definitely looked 10 times more than what I shelled out for it all. I went to silly MCAT class and got bored to death with orgo, and then came home where I worked and then talked to Jen and Amy for a while - they went out to Simsum and had a bottle of wine. Jen obviously was drunk or at least pretty tipsy, for she was swearing - which she doesn't do when she's sober. Cute quirk.

One night, I went to a party which she had said was jumping - her friend Martha's party, who is in Empty the Shelters. This happened to be a kinda fundraising Empty the Shelters party which was kind of lame. It was never meant to be an actual party, I don't think, and it was mostly "lame" because we didn't know anyone. I ended up talking with Martha and Jen for most of it, and then Ash came, whereupon we basically headed back home. I talked to her a lot - sometimes we just walked in silence but she seemed to understand things even when I didn't say them.

The one night when Ash's cousin was around, I went out to a party at St. Elmo's (earlier in the day, I went to a party at a house on Spruce with Assad and his friend) after we had pregamed at the house. I was doing really well there, and then Jen came down with Jen Pope...JP is kinda loopy, in a good way. I remember going out to Philly Diner with Alanna and seeing Leo, and Jen went down to this other party. She told me that she wanted to leave real soon, and when I got there, I figured out why. It was all dirty frat guys drinking bad beer and playing beer pong with no music, and a really nasty smell of manure or something else.

Some before events: opera in the park, Scoop de Ville, kiss at the Green Line. Sticking tongues out while entertaining parents - couldn't help but laugh.

JULY 15, 2003

Last night, after work, I was having dinner with Lisa. She came over and we made some vegetables cooked in olive oil with shallots and garlic, linguine and mushroom sauce and a can of Manhattan clam chowder (which is no match for New England clam chowder). We talked for a while - about Latin music, about other music I had downloaded (like the Hawaiian song from the Dr. Green death episode of ER; that episode was the best death episode I've ever seen on any TV show), about things at work, and other stuff. So then we had our chocolate fudge cake (which I still have a healthy portion of... Jen won't eat it because she doesn't like chocolate!!) and that was delicious.

And then: Jen comes home from work and says she wants to go out. Now, that phrase "go out" can meet a lot of things, but she means only one thing. We are going drinking... her little diatribe about how bad it would be to get turned away from a bar 3 days before her birthday would be so traumatic... so we go, and along the way, I get to know that 1) she wants us to hang out, 2) she wants to hang out because going to work and no play is a pain in the butt, even though it is still only Monday, 3) she wants to scope out non-carding bars and 4) she wants to drink. And why does she want to drink? Because she does not want to drink 3 drinks and pass out on her birthday. By the way, her party is on Saturday at the house... we are getting a keg and lots of hard alcohol (I say we, but she meant just her buying. I wouldn't take that for an answer because I felt really bad about her paying for all the alcohol for her party, so I'm paying half).

We pass Gojjo's, but that's not the place, so we head to Dahlak's; however, it seems to be a BYOB. Later, I find out that is only for the restaurant half. The bar is in the back. Anyway, we walk back to Gojjo's which is nicer, because the bar is in the front and just a hell of a lot nicer. The bartender is in no way Ethiopian - no, she's a beautiful blonde. She was great - she asked no questions, though I didn't look 21 and Jen still looks...well, she's Jen! Could pass for a - well, I won't say. Ha. I ordered an Amaretto sour, a straight rum on the rocks and finally a White Russian. Jen ordered a whisky sour, and on my suggestion, a Fuzzy Navel which she swore was too sweet. Well whatever, I finished that one (so I did have 4 nice and strong drinks...I was doing well).

As far as stuff covered, we established that she was the nicest She-Devil on the planet... haha. I told her about not being able to get John Mayer tickets as her birthday present and she tells me that the best present would be my presence. Damn, it makes me feel good to be really wanted around the place! But still, the problem exists - what to get for her? Time is running out! I get drunk, but surprisingly I don't act like a fool! (She comments on that; she says something about not giving noogies and breaking bbq's this time... I tell her about being called sketch...this comes about because we're arguing over whether sketch or shady is better. She thinks she's shady at heart and I agree...haha. I say that shady is when people see your actions and expect certain behavior and when you exhibit another side of yourself in another situation, they wonder why you didn't act this way before, and thus, you're shady. To illustrate, I say that I am called sketch by one girl because during the day I am quiet and reserved, but at night - I get the move on... I swear, she probably thinks I'm a player or something though I'm totally not; kind of bad example and the fact that I have girls around the house so much.)

I am now her partner for shady activities she says. We go to the shady pool with no water, the shady bar with no alcohol (well, BYOB, and a mistake at that, but preserve the imagery shall we?) and next the shady digs in the shady car. I have to get to work on that one. Haha. I need an old Lincoln, or any big big car that preferably can raise and lower the wheels so we can um, jump it down the road. I don't remember exactly what else, but I remember talking about lots of stuff. Eventually, we get down to Russian literature and philosophy. I go over my career goals, why I do what I do, and what I want to do about it - and how that pertains to the global scene and a philosophy of living and why do people exist. It rambles, yes. She questions a lot of things, and she is trying to insert a good reasoning into her love of history. Many people tell her the history major is useless; to prove it is not, I try to prove that the gathering of knowledge is never useless, and even useful things don't have a sense of place and meaning to the individual if not placed int he context of a history. How do we know we are doing modernizing and becoming better? Because we have recourse to a past that wasn't so good, or so efficient. Or you're successful now, but before, your family was poor as churchmice - without a history, you are nothing. We are both reading Anna Karenina and I tell her I think Vronsky is a pig and that Anna Karenina, though we are to feel sorry for her, is not worthy of my full pity. It is true that Tolstoy tries to make us hate Mr. Karenin and that I do hate him - Jen agrees with me on that point. She knows my deep and dark secret (which she thinks is a good one). That's it.

JULY 13, 2003

When it's late at night, one can contemplate the nature of the world around him in the peace and silence of his present environment; there is no outside distraction as the world is sleeping, as should you be. But to no avail, because the mind wanders where it likes to wander, and makes connections and inferences and dreams that one will understand through pure thought or discussion with the self. Such was the atmosphere present at this time, when it came upon the present user that in order to better understand himself, he should understand his world - and so, he should update his blog with a point to emphasize the globality of his thoughts and through that, his reason for needing this blog post as well. Thus, we come to the real meat of the matter.

Friday night: Pirates of the Caribbean, Lisa and Jesse attending. Zita, Vivian and friends also, as well as Tracy and Megan. The Asian crew are together, as usual, but as I am a non-Asian Asian, I do not belong to this clique. I am never seen at Lambda, nor do I make my presence known at English House or Kings Court. Tracy and Megan, the beautiful potheads, go to see a movie with one guy. Do they share? Funny thought, that. Party follows at Sigma Phi Epsilon, held by Missy and her house. Notably absent are Ruth and Carmen, though some others are present. Jared and friends, one of which goes to Northwestern, are in for the weekend. While helping to finish a 40, conversation is initiated on several fronts: one to Jared himself about his new job, one to his friend, one to Missy, one to Rachel, some to random girls, and finally, a weird conversation with a girl who is desperately in need of a rebound boy - who I make sure is not me.

I am a listener these days. I listen, and I advise, and I sympathise. I play the nice guy always, and usually, this means ending last. But I have been lucky. I have found people that I can be honest to. I have found people that I don't have to hide from. Trust is not easily placed, and once there, must be maintained. It has been a hard lesson in the past, but I am learning how important it actually is.

Saturday: Waking up is a hard thing to do, when you have no desire to do much of anything. It is a warm Saturday, perfect for a trip to the beach. However, most people aren't going, and thus, I spend a quiet afternoon at home. I do decide to go walking downtown for a bit, so I go with Lisa down Walnut to Rittenhosue Square. We stop at Scoop de Vil for the Hot Apple Pie A La Mode and the Strawpapayapple and then we walk for blocks and blokcs around the place. We stop back in Rittenhosue for a picture and then head by the Ethical Society to walk down to 25th and Spruce, seeing many many beautiful houses in the neighborhood. We stopped by one to visit Lisa's friend, and then we went thru the Schuylkill River Park, and then to the South St. Bridge to go home. We did take a look at the pool around there, which is definitely a public pool. For Sunday, the menu is a roast on the beach. A slow, long roast. I am glad we took the walk; I really needed it. Then, the BBQ with Maggie and friends.

JULY 11, 2003

Why am I always the last one to leave work? They always have to lock me in - that's kind of good (they think I work hard) but it's also really bad (I get out at 6???) and then of course, the MCAT class. It was in Bennett today. Not as depressing as DRL, but depressing none the same. I spend three hours in a room with snotty pre-meds. It's kinda disturbing. I never really knew they were that...cold! Well i got home at 930, tried to make myself a burger and fries and ended up having to make it all up again after I splashed oil on my shirt and undercooked the meat and the fries and burnt plastic onto the side of Jen's pot (cringe). It worked the second time, but I was already disillusioned with the day. Well, that is...Lisa invited me over to watch Open Your Eyes, a supposedly Spanish version of Vanilla Sky. Of course, I haven't watched Vanilla Sky so I couldn't tell whether it really was another version of the movie. One thing I can say about it - it was fucked up. The guy was messed up, moving in and out of dreams, and then we find out his entire world is one big dream, and he is 150 years in the future and not in 1997. It was good, but I was floating in a sea of bewilderment for the 2 hours it took to get to the explanation. I talked to Sandip; Lisa was on the phone with him when I came by.

My neighbors were hanging out over there and Andy invited me to his next party. I went to his party the one night and hung out for a little while. He got me a beer and I went to talk to Ben and his girlfriend (all right, pardon me, so I forgot her name. It's been a little while. I could never figure out what was holding them together, but whatever. Sketchball? Oh, I think it's her, but she seems to think otherwise. Ha, she still can't explain it to me.) Andy said he had told Ash and Jen, tho I think he just told Ash. Ash is in Boston now on some trip. He calls Jen a lot and tells her all his silly stories and she hangs up and says (well, pretty much) "what the hell?" Though she has a really nice way of rephrasing it. I'm going to Ocean City with Lisa and company on Saturday, and then to her BBQ. The plan tomorrow (Friday) is to go see Pirates of the Caribbean at 9:50 with Aparna, Jesse, Anthony, Lisa and Jen. Hopefully, it will turn out as planned! And then, there's lunch with Rachel on Sunday. Apparently, we're all crazy busy.

JULY 10, 2003

Jen and I went down to eat out at Astral Plane (17th and Lombard) after work turned out. I got to know her better - it's just harder hanging out at the house, because I am so careful about the invasion of space. Good thing, because there was a little problem that I will have to be mediator in. When we hang out anywhere outside the house, though (even the front stoop), we just have the best time. She got so tired walking back (as did I, but not as much...it was mostly just to make fun of her shortness) because she left some stuff at the restaurant. The people recognized us and said hello when we went back in. It was kinda funny. I'm glad I got to go out and relax, because the workday was so long. I started early and finished late, but now I have all my antibodies, I have my station stocked and set up, I ran the best Western yet and I got all my samples together. An altogether satisfying achievement. Well, to go back into part of the "little problem" above, Jen had some issues with unwanted attentions, jealousies, blue moods - I am the great Patcher-Upper. I bought her gummi worms and that made her day. Apparently, everyone thinks that they should take her out for coffee...to put it lightly. And this while eating at Astral Plane (the atmosphere - as good as imagined. Rx for the next trip, Circa for the one after that, and then who knows). Well, it's also good to be able to hear her stories and sound out my own ideas with her opinions. I got to pull out the short joke, and the one about the hitting up two bars and stopping - though it was funny in a peculiar way just for her. I told her to be mean, but of course, she can't do it. Haha. Last night, as I was eating, I gave Ash some advice on some of his "situations" and he seemed to need it, especially when I heard his up-the-nose theory. Um. Yeah. So I talked to Kathy. She moved into a new place in the French Quarter - she has her own Chamber of Secrets and she is 16 minutes from work. She takes karate, works long hours at a business firm and gets flown all over the place, is trying to visit an oil rig one of these workdays, and is crazy as usual. So currently, she's booked me for Egypt the weekend after we get back for school. She is SO fun! I can't wait. Manic Molly...remember RX (restaurant)? Remind me! Also after we get back to school. Well, that was my day really...even though I spent the entire night tiring myself out downtown, I had a lot of fun. More of these trips....this is already a great summer. Thanks guys!

JULY 8, 2003

Does the blog necessarily have to separate when it wants to be a diary and when it wants to be a ramble on thoughts in progress? Well, I mean, nothing really happened today (save one important incident that bears mention in another part of this blog - oh wait, but that's a private entry...maybe some other time guys!). I went to work this morning and stayed in the lab the entire day - everyone left early and I was stuck in the lab for 5 hours, until I finished everything I could do. I was heading down to Bryn Mawr to take the free MCAT session to persuade me to take the course - unfortunately, a lot of bad things happened to make me late enough to not even think it worthwhile to go. Well, I ate dinner downtown (while Jen ate at Marathon Grill, arr) and came back and hung around and talked to Kaplan and hung out with Anthony and Greg, those two crack me up - they live across from psychotic Erica (why psychotic..I don't really know) and there's so much drama with Piggy and Nene After Nine and Steve and god knows what. It's so dramatic that it suddenly feels non-dramatic. No more surprise; it's gossip without the sting because the stories are getting kinda recycled. Had a beer. Played some pool. Went to FroGro. Had some cake. Played some perfect Dark, talked a little with Ash. Typed this, and let's call it a day. Oh, but somewhere in this morass of not-quite-events, there was that incident. This is a "oh, i want a hot dog so bad" moments - but you have to be on a need-to-know basis. Ha, I even know but don't really "know" what's going on. At this point, all I can say is that Wednesday is gonna be the big day.

Here in this diary I write you visions of my summer. It was the best I ever had, there were choruses and singalongs and not a spoken feeling. I know it's not right now is all that matters...all the nights that we stayed up talking, listening to eighties songs and quoting lines from all those movies that we loved. It still brings a smile to my face! I guess what it comes down to is that being grown up is not half as fun as growing up. These are the best days of our lives. The only thing that matters is following your heart, and eventually, you'll get it right. Breaking into hotel swimming pools and wreaking havoc on our world...and you know that truck stop is just to pass the time. The blacktop is singing me to sleep. Lighting fireworks in parking lots, illuminating the blackest nights. Cherry Cokes under this moonlit summer sky. 2015 Riverside, it's time to say goodbye! Get on the bus, it's time to go! Being grown up is not half as fun as growing up. These are the best days of our lives. Get it right.... get it right... Being grown up is not half as fun as growing up. These are the best days of our lives. The only thing that matters is following your heart, and eventually, you'll get it right. Being grown up is not half as fun as growing up. These are the best days of our lives. Being grown up is not half as fun as growing up. These are the best days of our lives. The only thing that matters is following your heart, and eventually, you'll get it right. - In This Diary, the Ataris

Get this. Lousy mosquito bit me on the forehead. This "it's too hot, cool off the house by leaving the door open and having the insects move in and bite me to pieces every night" has GOT to stop.

Just downloaded: Marlena Shaw - California Soul and Mercy Mercy Mercy, Dante Thomas - Miss California, Kelly's Song - VNV Nation remix, the Platters - Blue Moon, the Presidents of the United States of America - Naked and Famous, the All-American Rejects - Swing Swing, Hapa - Panihui Aloha, Typical Hawaiians - Local Girls, Harry Belafonte - Coconut Woman, DJ Shadow - Funky Breakbeats, the New Pornographers - Mass Romance

JULY 6, 2003

Oh the beach? It was like I was on crack. A lot of crack. Lisa rang the bell at 930...I had just ran to shower 5 minutes before. Wasn't quite ready, forgot my shoes, unprepared as usual. Piece of shit alarm clock. Anthony drove us down to Atlantic City. Mostly I slept because I was just godawful tired but then when we got there, I was wide awake. We just lay around on the beach and then went into the FRIGID water. The waves were SO freaky high and were amazing! Lisa just stayed out there for a long time... I came back in later. I burnt my soles running barefoot on the concrete to get a drink (1 mile is a lot when your feet are on fire). It was hot there but not that hot...but then we left at 3 (basically after peak) because Anthony had to get to work at Cosi's. He probably missed out on the all you can eat ice cream down at Penn's Landing. Well I definitely missed out because I just played video games when I got back home. I went out with Lisa to get to FreshGrocer at 10 and Katherine and Thomas were like - you missed the best fireworks at Penn's Landing! Even better than last night! We bought some stuff down at FG and went back to her place to watch SNL and MadTV and before the shows started we watched some of the fireworks on the news - DAMN they were so much better. SNL was great even though it was a rerun. MadTV was hilarious. And then I went home, thinking I was going to go to bed. Nope - Jen and Ash were sitting out on the stoop with a fresh bottle of whisky and sour mix. Poured myself some with that grapefruit lemonade stuff...tasted just like candy. Said something hilarious and Jen was laughing hard. Ash was being a drunk buffoon. Well, we just sat there for like 2 hours enjoying the buzz and the night air until Ash was like, Byron, you own the Ring! Let's go watch it! Jennifer said she was gonna be scared - I told her it was wholesome family fun. It wasn't slasher horror but just very unsettling (I had seen it 3 times)...but I still had to escort her back to her room afterwards (not before I whispered 7 days and some other provocative shit and got hit with a pillow a couple times). Haha...and then I went to bed planning on waking up early, instead not waking up so early. Arrgh. And then, here we are.

Randomness: I like to remember "such a funny guy." Rush up there, swing her off her feet, sing a song to her. Harry Connick Jr. doing the "L is for the way you look at me..." It's after the Ring, and tucking her in and checking for boogie monsters. The talk: "you know how you always want to go out of your way for people, but when you need it, they won't return the favor?" Smile at the camera, watch TV while I fall asleep. "It's ok." Too many times. Night at ghetto bar, skipping down the street - catching me when I fall, catching you when you fall. Ice cream spoons, hanging from lips. Houston Hall steps, in the moonlight. Ghetto pool - so much ghetto. Candle catalogues, "I'm a bum", "waste of space", sitting in front of the fan. Tiki lights and candy.

So I'm looking for a cell phone right now. Yes, I am losing my old one - my parents are taking it back. So I was looking at Verizon - 35 a month, but their phones and the activation fees and one time charges are SO up there..Sprint had bad deals, but AT&T turned out pretty cheap. I get a decent phone and charger, activation fee, shipping for 50 bucks and then 30 a month for unlimited nationwide weekends and nights, 300 minutes. I probably will go with that - I wonder how their service is...

(Jukebox> play> I wish the real world would just stop hassling me Matchbox 20 > What you think, gangsters don't cry? > Fat Joe > This could be your lucky day...in hell. > Eels > What they really need...is a little room to breathe. > G. Love and Special Sauce > It's a good day....when she comes round to kill me. > Matthew Good Band > When the sun goes down, me and my baby have a smokin' session. Then I take her out for a night on the town...we'll have a good time tonight! > Fiji > stop)

Saw Vy. He apologized for being an ass. Haha.

Ash: I woke up still drunk.
Me: Um...

Problem: When someone says they want some time off, but they keep on creating opportunity, do you respect their previous request? (Update: GOT IT!)

(Jukebox > play > Lemme show you what I'm all about...how I make a Sprite can disappear in my mouf. > Lil Kim > I went on Jerry Springer to confess my love to you. You told me I was crazy and wished that I was dead....today I wrote your name across the sky...Miss Claire Danes...but they were waiting on the ground to take me down to jail. > The Ataris > It was what she could understand. He was showing his love..and that's how he hurt his hands. > Nickel Creek > Am I good could you get more? Your intuition...> Jewel > stop)

Okay - time to go.

JULY 5, 2003

I woke up at 9 AM, having went to bed at 4 AM. Wasn't too happy about that, but I couldn't get back to sleep without feeling that dull throb. So took a shower and waited around until 1, when Jen decided that we were gonna go downtown. I was supposed to meet Rachel and Sylvia and possibly Lisa later on in the afternoon but I was gonna go with Jen to hang out first. So we went with Gisele and Pearl down to Penn's Landing and had lots of ice cream for 5 bucks. They left to go down to Betsy Ross House and Elfreth's Alley; I stayed and waited another hour for Rachel and Sylvia. I met Bree, one of the other RCs, and then some of Sylvia's kids. They're so freaky dolled up so much, they gotta tone it down some. But it was a hot 3 hours there, and then we came back to campus to hang out. I went to Rachel's BBQ which was lots of fun. Tanya and Alfredo were hanging out, as was Simeona, Delusha, Laura and some other people that I didn't really know. Good chicken though. I went to Mike's party and had some stuff there, but I left pretty quick. I went home, took a shower and Jen came home. We talked for a while and then I decided that I had to go out again - went back to Rachel's BBQ and had hella fun for a while longer before I headed back home. I made plans and finally got Jen to go down with me and Gisele and Pearl and Mike and his friends and Anthony as well to the fireworks. The fireworks were awesome, I walked Jen back to the house so she could get back to bed (she gets tired from walking ALL the time, for work as a leasing agent and hangin out with her friends. Must be really tiring.) I went to Mike's "party" and then to Rachel's; we talked for two hours. I have to get up in 4 hours to go to the beach, but it's all good. Just a quick recap and not the play by play...night.

JULY 1, 2003

You totally missed Sunday! It was the best day... I was in the kitchen having breakfast with Jen and she comes up with the bright idea of "today would be a good day to go to the pool." I say, "well, sure, but what pool? I thought there were like - none - in Philadelphia. We can't even get a bowling alley until we drive into the Northeast!" but she's not put off. "We could just lounge around the pool...sit in the sun and read, and swim, and soak." Originally, her idea was to sit on the hill by Gregory and read. I vetoed that one. Well, so this idea was kind of intriguing, however impractical I first found it to be.

I went downstairs to look stuff up, callously letting her wash all the dishes (she got to them first, actually, I just helped put them away later). Well, apparently I learned one thing on Sunday. There are pools within the vicinity of West Philadelphia, one being on 48th and Woodland, and the other being on 44th and Haverford. We pack, and leave. But - we have to choose which one to go to. She offered to go to the 48th one, and I agree (she later blames the decision on me ), which means we walk up there uphill, get kind of lost and then find ourselves, sweat buckets in the sun and watch our backs as the ghetto becomes more ghettoish - and the pool is empty. Like, completely dry, and no one around. Arrgh! (It opens in another few days, but I'm not goin back there.) Walking all the way to the other one (which is on Drexel's campus), we make a couple pit stops and finally make it to the pool. We were gonna ask directions to the pool from these black ladies who were wearing the severe Muslim headgarments and thought better of it. Jen would probably have been called a hussy for wanting to go and bare her naked ankles at the pool, and me a pimp for letting them be shown. But then we find it, right near to where the ladies were hanging out with their almost nude children at the playground, one of which was a little girl. Hmpf.

We get there and being the ONLY white and Asian respectively, we are already noticeable. The lady there must have thought I was a real stupid OTB because she kept on pointing and saying go thru the hole. I was like, I know I have to go to the change rooms which are on the other side of the hole, so why are you pointing at the "hole" and consequently, the girls' room as well? Finally, Jen, being the together person out of the two, leads me thru the hole. Stupid guy part 1. Then I walk out on the other side to go to the pool and the woman is like, strip. Strip? Take off my clothes? Oh, in the changing room. Hehe. When I could really have just walked to the pool, taken off my shirt, and accomplished the same thing. But I do it for her. Jen meanwhile has the same experience. We finally get thru and get set up. I make her get in the cold shower (she had the prettiest little thing on ) and then we go swimming, and sunning, and... safe to say, we have a blast, we got burned, we came home and tried to eat out fancy at Rx just the two of us BUT it was closed, we order out instead from Italian Bistro, have a quiet dinner in the living room listening to John Mayer and Counting Crows and talking, end up talking on the phone for the rest of the night and then, yeah.

Monday, Xanga was down, so I didn't post either. I try to post for the regularity of it, and so I keep a history of my summer. It's a fun summer, so I'd like to remember it. At one point, i was to be a history major and lamented the way things were. With paper being inconvenient and email being too easy to throw away, an electronic record which one tries to keep up is the best way to preserve history (though you are realizing you're preserving it while you do it). I went to class, went to work, studied, talked to Rach some, contemplated calling Kathy, called Tracy but she wasn't home, cooked hot and sour and then honey mustard chicken in the oven that took 2 hours to finally cook (it's high must have been a medium-low on another oven). Watching Ghost Dog later (Ash wanted Jen to see it, but of course, she didn't like it. Neither did I but I could see it was at least trying to make a point. I had already seen it so I just studied and called people on the cell from downstairs.)

Tuesday morning, 10 AM. Waking up. Realizing that I had slept through my orgo final. Thank god I'm just auditing, but that was irresponsible. I had even gone to bed around 12!!! What the hell!?!?!?! Apparently, I didn't set the alarm. Had thought about everything else but that. Dad was pissed and said that I didn't schedule well enough (bc I didn't remember exactly what day when I talked to him Monday night, though I HAD IT WRITTEN DOWN, which I looked up right after I had hung up the phone!!), though missing the exam had nothing to do with not scheduling right. Sigh, frustrated. I know Dad was too, so I can't blame him and all. Well, then I felt really really bad all day but I got so much done, and so good too, and now that I at least got one part of my life down PAT, I feel a little better. Thinking about whether I should take the MCAT class and pay for it myself (I want to rely on my parents as least as possible, but I also need money!!!).

JUNE 29, 2003

OK - I missed yesterday. So sue me. I was intending to write one, but when I was half done, IE screwed up and shut down all the screens, deleting all my work.

So in my last entry I had said something about Molly being rabidly hyperactive, but that it was cute. Since she had said something about it to the effect of "was I serious?", than my clarification is in order. What I do mean is that I'm serious about her being rabidly cute, but hyperactive.

I was talking to Kathy the other day. She likes making scrapbooks; I can't wait to take a look. I have an honorary spot on one page, I hear. I still have to send her the picture from the White Rose formal...that was a great night.

Speaking of great nights, the past two have been kinda good. Friday night, I went to the theater house party and had an awesome time! I said goodbye to Lauren Sankovitch who is going to have a crazy time in London until August. Did I mention how jealous I was of that? Well anyway, I am thinking about MDing Zombie Prom, and then I am also getting the score for Most Happy Fella so I can take a look at that. And then I have to do transcribing for that possible trip in September and for the PMAH concert, and then prepare for Glee Club August 27. I'm gonna go crazy with all this music stuff. If I dropped out, I think it would be a very bad thing for the Penn music community - they'd all lose their one accompanist...haha. Missy was there, as was Dora and Vy and Dave (who is going to do jazz stuff with me soon) and Ken and Ken's hot friends (how?) and some unknown Asian chick (for once, whom I found mmm...) and Kat and Kat's friend who I started talking to. One of Missy's housemates came along and she was hilarious. Mike was there, as was Rob (both Glee Club), who in his higher quest to get some, has crashed and burned many a time along the way. Friday I also had been to lunch with Lisa J. I had a good chicken quesadilla - maybe it'll be lunch also on Monday.

Anyway, then I had Saturday, which started out with 28 Days Later, which ended up being very good. It was ostensibly about a killer virus, but it was more about how we as humans deal with our needs - and it's not as perverted as you would immediately think, that's for the person who I told that to and who said eww right away. And then all that candy? Blecch. Purple tongue and rotted teeth now. I called Ruth today about the jazz club; apparently it's called Ortlieb's Jazz Haus and it's a couple blocks off of Elfreth's Alley on Second Street (oh, by the way, there is a very nice old house available for sale right on the edge of Elfreth's Alley..it's so nice. And a block down is the best bookstore I've seen in Philly. Thanks to Ruth for that one again. I'm really glad for First Friday the other week.) She also said she had done the Boston Marathon. Having only ran the comparatively cake Harrisburg Marathon, I really admire her running prowess - because you have to have a qualifying time which was a bit beyond my time...hehe. Um. Time to train, I guess. I talked to Jen some who is better today, so she's tired most days from work. Having to work until 7, 730 every night is a drag, as is having to work the same on Saturdays - because everybody likes househunting on Saturday mornings (she's a leasing agent). She came in before I was to leave for dinner, and while I was playing perfect Dark. She said it sounded like a scary horror movie and I said, nah, some stupid violent video game. She likes GTA! Anyway, I went down to Xe Lua, my fave Viet place in Chinatown and had some good Pho with Rach and Dan and Daphne. We then went down to Broad St. where the July 4 celebrations were up and running. It was huge! It was massive! Salsa dancing by City Hall, a Steel band, some Latin band down by the end, and then continually changing too, though I didn't stay. That was because I went back to watch Charlie's Angels: Full Throttle, which was an immensely fun movie. It was brainless, and the conclusions they come to are ridiculous, but it's great. And the guest appearances! Camerion Diaz in no makeup and a mullet? Oh, so sexy. And Lucy Liu is just AMAZING. I went with Leah and Missy (she lives in the Sig Ep house for a Center for Community Partnerships internship which gives her free housing there - what a good deal!) and Sarah and Tyler. Tyler is obviously trying to get .... that's enough about that part. We hung out in front of the Bridge for so long deciding what to do, then we decided on FreshGrocer and acted the complete bums we were trying to be. We kinda got kicked off twice by management for basically being a nuisance like standing and talking right in the middle of the exit. Haha. Then we walked. Sarah had called a shuttle and we stood in front of Tyler's place, but it took so long, and I wanted to not hinder any efforts on Tyler's part, so I left. Ostensibly to call my friend and go to his party, but the phone died, so I had to go home. And then when I got back, I called Rachel and ended up talking to Jen again for a half hour and eating tons of Skittles, forcing me to call it a night because it was kinda late and I was kinda tired. And then it's morning now. The Scientist is playing right now. It's a beautiful song. I think I want to go to the John Mayer/Counting Crows concert in July; I really like "Your Body is a Wonderland". How come everybody is embarrassed to say they like John Mayer? If everybody isn't ashamed of liking a wimp band like DMB or admitting fanatic viewings of PeeWee's Playhouse when they were little, then why not John Mayer? PeeWee was great in Blow, by the way. His hair was probably the best I've ever seen it. His arrest photo and the almost bald cut he had on the show were SO dumb. How did he end up doing PeeWee's Playhouse anyway? How did Mr. Rogers end up doing his show from being a kickass Army guy with tattoos all down his arms which were hidden by that long sleeve half sweater he always wore?

New problems await. I gotta study, prep for next week's experiments, figure out how to get in touch with Tracy for some stuff I need and also organize my room a little. I'm a mess right now. Arrgh. To reduce the heat of my room, I have to open the front door for a while, letting all these bugs in. And the bugs just stay ont he first floor, meaning I suffer all of them. Jen was joking last night that I was the only person who she could legitimately warn to "don't let the bedbugs bite". Ahhhhh!

JUNE 29, 2003

So my last little entry was at work - didn't want to get caught of course. But does it matter? Really now - I was done all the stuff I needed to do anyway. Now I actually feel like a part of this lab (it's kinda strange how it's set up. I am employed by Dr. Ruth Muschel's lab in the Department of Pathology and Lab Medicine. However, she is part of the Department of Radiation Oncology somehow, and her husband is head of the Department as well. Her old office and my workspace for the past month has been in his lab, Dr. Gillies McKenna, and so I am going to be working there. It will be kind of strange, because her lab will be in Abramson while I am in John Morgan. I will still report to her. That will still have to be worked out exactly how, but anyway.). Having a part of the space dedicated to me is a new feeling; none of my old jobs ever gave me my "own" place. I am quite honored. At the same time, I have to work even harder than I have been - it's getting harder and harder every day! I did an OK blot this week, but next week I have to show her a REALLY GOOD BLOT. I am SO going to die. Tonight, I think I'm going to go see Charlie's Angels with the housemates and Tiffany, before she heads home. Also, there's a drama house party...lots of stuff happening! Last night I ended up playing video games with Ash for 2 hours and it was REAL late when I finally got into bed. It was off the hizzy. And now - it's time to go.

JUNE 27, 2003

So this is the new stuff! To continue off the end of the last one, I just wanted to even out the score. Well, she - yeah, she - is down in South America doing good works while I grow and then kill cancer. Good works? Maybe, but not so much in comparison. But - it definitely is interesting. So I'm living just off campus right now, and I have 3 housemates to make life interesting here. I live on the first floor and during this hot, steamy summer, I stay cool because - even with no air con, the first floor is always pretty cool! Magic, I think. Upstairs lives Ashton and his cousin who I guess has gone home... and then on the FRYING top floor lives Jen and the taxi driver guy. Phantom Papa, he calls himself, for his inability to see his grandson so often. I think it was Jen who said it sounded like some weird porn. Ashton definitely has the best room; of course, he's living here throughout the year. I have the most "space". There is an empty apartment next door to me with kitchen and bathroom, which I always use, except to shower. Definitely not, it's kinda scuzzy. So I've been living here since the middle of May, and I love it. When I first moved in, there was no door on one side and an unlockable door on the other...thank goodness things have worked out better since then. My room is big and looks out into the living room, which means any party here is a party I'm at, whether I like it or not. We've had a couple hot parties here already. Sometimes it was just hangin out and drinking whisky sours, with Mike, who also knows Jen, some of Jen's friends, some of Ashton's friends. I had lots of people over for home-cooked meals, but not so much for the party yet. Jen had that nice BBQ with the George Foreman on the week after I had moved in. By chance, Viv, Zita, Darryl and Assad came - I have no idea how. Viv is still around, as is Zita, who works long hours and is still really really short. Hehe, but then, so are a lot of the people in my life. (Wouldn't that be a little weird to go out or even just hang out with people who were much taller?) Ash is taking a class at Temple and being generaly lazy and enjoying his summer. Jen, just recently, got a great job. I'm proud of her - she's real busy and gets real tired at the end of the day, but she's happy. I had a good conversation the other day with her about being the quiet one. We were talking about how people like us - yes, we are really similar - seem to always go out of their way to do things for people, but when we need help, those ppl are not always there for you. I mean, it happens sometimes, but I'm glad there's someone else who feels like I do. She's surprising. I can't believe that she basically bought Mr. X (I'll leave that one to her to tell) a car. Mysterious references - but that's for me to remember, not you. I helped the taxi driver set up his email account the other day. He apparently wants to get into "phantom" day trading. I've got cable (Jen gets HBO, how come me and Ash don't???) and now an N64 from Liederbach, and a TV and VCR from Assad who gave it to me before he left home for Pakistan, where he seems to be getting along fine. He's got some options, or so he says. Yesterday was the awesomest day - not only do I get some quality time talking to people I need to (thanks, Rachel), I get Tracy's number, kinda unload Mz Thang who really needs to go, and saw Alex and Emma. Now you would ask why is this guy mentioning a campy romance movie? Because it was relaxing, and had an actual bitter moment... um, anyway. So tonight, Kathy calls - and she tells me she cares! Life is good! And then I had a good time with Missy and Jared at the Rotunda, watching some awesome breakers. I had no idea they had all kinds of cool shit goin on there that is apparently free. A bunch of West Philly thugs, aging Rastas and younger generation Rastas, skater punks, skater girl punks, emaciated model people, hot girls, clueless college students like me - it's all good. So all day, I go to class at Temple, which really sucks because I have to wake up at 7 to have enough travel time to make it there on schedule. Then I go to work, which is a long, stressful but highly satisfying way to spend the day. I finished a Western blot, immunoprecipitation and development today. It was only OK, but I have only been improving. I work a full 40 hours a week so I get paid the full amount - my check comes in soon, I am excited. Molly talked to me the other day, we caught up after 3 weeks not talking... she's still as good as ever. And hyperactive. And rabidly so. But it's all cute.

APRIL 18, 2003

I think I'm gonna go downtown again. Last time, I went to Johnny Rockets and had a great burger and Oreo sundae with Sam. Well, that had me kinda tired (5 hours worth??), and that was kinda why I also turned in a bit early Friday. Uh oh, now Anthony is asking to go running and I so don't feel like it. I am hungry... hungry hungry hippos (now there's a game I haven't seen for a while). OK - I really think I have to go now...but one last entry here.

Miranda: that's very true, though you may underestimate me there
BMKjack: hmm...well, still, it would sound ten thousand times better coming from you
Miranda: would you like me to call you assholes?
BMKjack: i can think of better things
Miranda: oh?
Miranda: how about "vocally supreme sex gods"?
BMKjack: yeehaaa. i think you got it!
Miranda: by now, I should be an expert

So I was just reminded a second ago that since this is getting seen (emphasis there...this thing doesnt show italics unless I go thru some trouble), I have an obligation to continually update the public about my exciting life with meticulous and interesting descriptions. So I am sitting here with...yes...another Cherry 7-UP though I don't really like them too much. Why did I buy them? I dunno. What a waste of four dollars. So I went and saw Anger Management today, which ended up being pretty good considering the ridiculous premise. For the first 1 hour, I thought it was the most fucked-up movie. Actually, make that second-most...nothing can beat Pi. That was a waste of life, taking the time to watch that piece of crap. But the sappy sweet ending revitalized the whole thing and made the experience so much less degrading. And cameos! Yesterday, I had went to see Bulletproof Monk, and let me say that while it was enjoyable, the fighting was ridiculously bad. Probably because no one on the set could actually fight accept for Chow Yun-Fat... The director continually changed angles and shots so the fighting looked faked...you know how they speed lightning fast through shots to make it look more amazing - well, too fast and they become no longer amazing. So Sam - yes, that's her name - went off home today. Too bad I was really really late for work when she told me about it! Off to celebrate Easter at home...come to think, everybody's celebrating Passover and Easter right around now. Manischewitz is probably making a bundle, and those bitter herb sellers... And matzoh! Not any harder to eat than dried up Commons casseroles, but I'm sure that it makes the whole religious holiday thing that much more solemn - just trying to get over the matzoh. Pardon the unPC moment. So back to me sitting here. Kinda boring, right? You guessed it. Damn. DU had a party planned but it got canned, and the International Party is just too far to go to. So tonite might end up being very very quiet. Maybe the house... I'm guessing either the keg didnt materialize or the alky was too expensive, or they guessed nobody would come, or none of them were there! Bobys ain't there (GC...we're everywhere!) cuz he's having his seder with his Canadian peeps. I wish I was back in Vancouver - sunny weather there is just so much more enjoyable. Stanley Park, my bike, Wayne and Simon...Derek and his infamous mom (yikes, how'd I end up living at HER house for a month???). Or the Shadbolt, where we were like every weekend. That park was great. I never did ride on that carousel, did I? So Wayne is up at Eastman. Lucky bastard. He came down that one weekend for an audition with Curtis and we partied around for a while. Though then I was forced to wear the infamous yellow pants for an hour (after which I ditched the pants before I went downtown) - all he said the entire time was "frikkin yellow pants..that's so gay". That, again, was entirely unPC. I was like, thanks for pointing out the obvious!

APRIL 16, 2003

So it's very late and the Negotiator is ample entertainment for the night. I am going in early to hand in a paper and I have a lab tomorrow AND a performance at the UNICEF banquet with PMAH. It's only 10 minutes - but we're playing mighty good stuff: Coldplay - The Scientist; Mariah Carey - Hero; and Pearl Jam - Black. Samir is doing a solo (he's graduating, whatever), and then I'm accompanying Somto and Samir and Shazia for Black. But I have so much other work I should do that I am not doing - my Music research paper (my head hurts thinking about it), a Bioethics paper on the right to die, a PoliSci paper.... Achtung, baby. So contemplating the broken finger excuse for rehearsal tomorrow - no, that won't work - so how about the Penn Indonesian Society? They will never know - huh, easy enough to realize it doesn't exist. So Anger Management some time - arg. SO I went to this Take Back the Night thing? I felt a little out of place, but it was still kind of enlightening. Meaning, of course, that I am some sort of inconsiderate masochist for not realizing that this kind of stuff goes on - especially in Asian families. To get the record straight, I am quite aware. For that person who insinuated...hahaha.

APRIL 16, 2003

OK, so there is no big secret. Racking my brains still, but nothing calls out to me that is in dire need of... well, certainly embarrassing things have happened. I remember being at Yale two weekends ago and... oh never mind, not that story. I have to pick a less embarrassing one. Ha, I like it how everyone thinks I am so neat and tidy because my room is always neat - yet, I can turn it into a dump within 5 minutes... I have a habit of doing that. So Jesse comes to me the other day and he's like, you're not going in my room. So why not now? Unlike all the other times I've been in there? He says it's too messy, worse than Southworth. Now that is frankly not possible... Oh, and I get another piece of advice - stop leaving old things in my profile. Well, it's just the week AFTER the show ended...I hardly check my own profile even once a month. Just looking around my room...at the 14 lbs of candy stacked, and all that apple cider and milk in my fridge, and leftovers, and stale cherry 7ups, and those packs of chicken noodle soup and loaves of bread and pretzels and... god, how do I end up with so much food??? Sitting in my room just drives me nuts.

APRIL 15, 2003

This is kinda addictive. So being at work and all - right now, it's just data entry and data checking, analysis will come again later... So I'm doing these hospice care studies which constantly alternate between being really interesting and just common sense... whatever. I was just IMing with a friend and saying how much fun I had at Fling. You can't live twice, they say. So I kinda met this girl this weekend (cool...weezer, island in the sun's on) and we've been hanging out. And then the show, and then all the stuff afterwards, even if the cops did shut down everything. Which was kinda cool, cuz I did kinda slip under their radar. I left all the big parties before they got there - and all the small ones I was at never got caught :) And then the weekend where I was with M. and lost him and apparently within that half hour, the cops came by... Soon, maybe, I'll let someone read this. This is better than having a real diary. Something about the public exhibitionism thing just appeals to my sense of ego? I dunno, I like performance, this is just another way of...

2003. 2004. 2005. 2006. 2007. 2008. 2009. Current Entries.