Seriously, I'd like to know...

Do the TV News people get bored in LA?

Starting Thursday of last week every station of the six that I get began reported on the white squall that was supposed to hit Los Angeles Sunday night. Circle your calendars in red ink. Fire stations started stock-piling sand bags, shelters started booting out the homeless that had been there the longest, Jesse Jackson led the entire population in a non-denominational-unitarian-politicaly-correct prayer. The figuritive "shit" was about to hit the metaphorical "fan". The tv stations came on every ten minutes with "breaking news" of the storm that would surely end our lives. Everywhere around Los Angeles it was raining, snowing, thunder and lightning were stealing lunch money from little children, giant frogs were falling from the skies and we were certainly next--the storm would be here any minutes.

Friday: no rain
Saturday: dry as a bone
Sunday (the day the invasion was to begin): NOTHING

So, you would think that the news reporters by now would have realized looking at the green highlighter they kept showing us that the storm was mostly north and wsn't actually going to be that bad. Well you'd be wrong.
"We think the storm will hit sometime Monday night. But man, it'll be, you know, bad."
"But you said it'll be here tonight."
"No we said Monday"
"well can you tell us when Monday night?"
"Monday night."
"yes b-
"MONDAY NIGHT!"

So 8am, Monday morning I'm driving to class because I am late and lazy, and as I swore at the light to change faster--the pitter patter of little rain drops start stinging my winsheild. 8am. So evidently, for the past twenty years when I thought AM meant morning, I was wrong. To be fair, most of the rain came during the evening and the streets did in fact get pretty wet. However this is where the events of Monday night and the TV report seperated. Instead of the pending apocolypse, we got some rain. Some. Rain. And frankly I was dissapointed. I was expecting canoes down Hollywood Blvd. Instead I got the relaxing sound of rain falling on windows. I wanted revelations not aromatherapy!
This morning I woke up and roled out of bed and looked up at the sky and my sleepy eyes were shocked open. IT WAS SUNNY AND BEAUTIFUL! WHAT THE HELL!? We spend four days on StormWatch'06, it rains for one night and then the morning after it's like it never happened? I tell you I feel cheated. Granted the clouds left over made the day look amazing, and the sunset this evening was a circus of pinks and purples cast across a sea of rolling clouds and it looked stunning. Nonetheless, the TV news programs owe me a thunderstorm. And I don't mean any sissy little april shower like last night. I want snow with lightning behind it. Maybe if they stopped trying one-up each other with the next big hit of sensationalism to feed the mass addiction with storm watches and high-speed-pursuits, we'd actually get some real news. And maybe then I wouldn't be jonesing for a nickle-bag of rainstorm.

Money Matters.

As I sit here at the Freudian Sip--the school's cafe--and eat my lunch, I contimplate the number of things I can no longer by with the four dollars and forty cents I just spent. A bottle of Shampoo, four boxes of pasta, a card...sure all of these seem pretty frivolous by themselves, but they represent a largey part of life that one cannot live without. It's easy to forget about the little expenditures we have from day to day. A ham and cheese criossant and a large cup of dark roast coffee....a video from Blockbuster (just this once)...dinner with the friends at Macaroni Grill (it's a special occasion, it's alright)....Yes there is a difference between buying lunch foryouself and going out to eat randomly at an italian resturant or wasting your time on yet another video; lately though, anything that costs money is being lumped together under the same catagory--a luxury I could probabl live without.
Lately it's become agonizingly difficult to spend any money. The idea of having to waste my money yet again means that it's money I won't have later. It is cold--it is final. This sudden scruplousness is a strange and new feeling for me, up until now I have never wanted really wanted for anything. My parents have always been good making sure I have led the life I wanted to, they have always been wonderful at taking care of me. But they cannot take care of me forever. It has occured to me lately that I have a serious addiction to spending money and to the aqcuisition of material things. Why rent a movie or check out a book with I can buy them? What's the harm in gettig another cup of starbucks today? And doesn't food at a resturant always seem to taste better? It has occured to me lately that my only goal spend money to indulge my five senses a little bit further. I have been skating through life hedonistically and it has occured to me that I need to stop.
Suddenly, Money matters. I have always been a man of action--if there is a problem, fix it. I think fast and I act fast and by god I want immediate results as my reward. This is a large part of my problem with spending money, it's immediacy. You spend money you get something. The end. Now the very thing that has been feeding the addiction is becoming to most difficult obstacle to overcome. Off the top of my head I can think of several ways to begin saving money, but as I said to Cindy today
"Everytime I get the inclination to spend money, I feel like I have to spend money in oder to prove that I can."
"Yeah," she said, "it sucks."
Of course the epiphany of how much money I spend and how much I need to stop is coupled with the realization of how much I need to spend in order to function. Gas, groceries, and laundry take a lot of my money by themselves. Sure I can drive less, buy from the 99 cent store and...well, I really should probably keep doing my laundry once a week....but even those solutions cannot take an immediate affect. It is the immediacy I need in my life, not just in fincances but everywhere. Perhpas my real issue is how impulsive I am.
Finances aren't the only place where I've felt stretched beyond my means. "Like butter spread over too much bread." And maybe it is that impulsiveness that is pulling me in so many directions without ever letting me go completley in one. I'm not sure exactly what my problem is, but I know that my life lacks discipline, and it lacks the ambition I once was so proud of having. I need more focus in my life. More focus and less spending.

An American Dream or American Nightmare

I’ve heard many conspiracy theories lately, theories of how the Republican Party is playing chess with the American government—positioning key players into a strategic trap in order to keep Bush and his executives in power indefinitely. The theories go on saying that Bush, in a truly Palpatine-like coup, will decide the country is in too great a state of terror for him to simply leave office come Election Day, but rest assured he will relinquish his power when the level of threat is permanently in the green.

These conspiracy theories seem to be just that—theories. The idea that the American People are dumb enough to allow such an atrocious coup to happen is fairly far-fetched to me. With media throwing news at us every nanosecond of a day, and with constant coverage of similar government magic-tricks, I find it hard to believe that the American People would allow the wool to be pulled over their eyes so easily. In my heart of hearts I know that the American People wouldn’t stand to see the system that has not only survived but became one of the strongest powers in the world destroyed by a handful of people.
But what if it did? What if the government was able to fool us just long enough to keep the current regime in power? Now we have a new form of government—a dictatorship disguising itself as the same democracy it always was. The problem is that this dictatorship is governing under a certain set of principles and values, principles that the entire population of America does not agree with. And considering our history with political disagreement, it’s inevitable that many Americans will revolt.

Karma

Well Yesterday I posted my long-winded report on my roomate Matt. Within minutes of posting it Matt informed me he was moving out. It wasn't anything I said or did (thankfully he didn't read the post) it was because of Kamal. The other night Kamal had a loud party that ended up trashing out bathroom (including Matt's toothpaste) and Matt blew up. I can't say I'm sorry Matt left he would have gotten on my last nerve sooner than later, but at the same time he didn't leave under the best conditions. He felt run out and I really didn't do a lot to stop it.
I didn't think it would ever really happen, but for the first time I feel like my sense of humor has outspoken my sense of what is right. I know it's not my fault but I certianly didn't help the situation. Funny what lessons we can learn form people we don't respect very much...

The Nature of the Beast

Let me break down my living situation for you. While nothing I tell you could ever truly paint a decent picture of my rooomates I will try to be accurate and true (and by accurate and true I mean I'm going to tell you exactly what I think about them). I will admit immediately that I am somewhat of an elitist and the guys who share my apartment aren't exactly "my type", but I am honestly not exaggerating most of what I say.
The first beast we come upon in this nature tour is Matt. Matt Madden. It’s no coincidence that Matt shares a name with one of the most popular (and obnoxious) commentator’s of football’s history. Matt is a football player. No I take that back, Matt isn’t a football player, he’s a football liver. His Favorite movie is Rudy—the heroic story of a young football player who struggles to make it even though he isn’t very good. Matt loves this movie so much that he’s gone so far to say “Football is a metaphor for life.” Though Matt still adamantly preaches the religion of football, his practices have moved from the field to the movie camera. Matt has decided his true calling in life is a screen actor—such a profession is genuinely perfect for him as he looks like the love child of David Hasselhoff and Sylvester Stallone. I’m not sure how else to describe him other than he looks like a giant toe. I find it utterly amazing that someone can look like a caricature of themselves. It’s plain to me that Matt would be superior at playing characters for the camera.
Not only does he have the face, but he’s got the type-a, ultra-charismatic personality to match. Matt is so charismatic he leaves it in the sink after he leaves the bathroom. Matt is the kind of guy who is so excited about telling you something that he will get three inches from your face to tell you. I’ll admit it’s a bit foreboding being five inches shorter than him, but I appreciate his effort make me feel like he’s really talking to me. Don’t misunderstand me, though, Matt is not a soft-spoken individual. Matt is sufficiently good at making himself heard from just about anywhere on campus (I say campus because I don’t have the recourses to test further). He is certainly a loud individual, but I sum it up to the fact that he’s just excited to hear from his friends. Like the other day when he was talking on his phone standing on the balcony—he was so excited to hear from his friend that his voice echoed off the building across the parking lot.
It’s hard to believe that such a large personality and giant of a man can be contained into one room. Don't worry, he is not. Like all dominance-seeking, overbearing males of his species, Matt cares little for the boundaries of other people and asserts himself on their territory as if it where his own. From the moment he moved in Matt claimed the living room (where I keep my DVD player and my TV) as his own. Matt permanently keeps his mattress, pair of 25-pound dumbbells, and inflatable work out ball here so that he doesn't have to inconvenience himself by going to his own bedroom to do such private things. Though honestly what it the use of “personal space”? Philosophers have been trying to determine the answer to that question for ages. Matt must certainly be an advanced individual to find the answer to the question so quickly. The way he uses my dishes, and my food and puts his things all over the bathroom counter; he must be simply trying to lead by example.
I must admit it has been hard, trying to grow accustomed to Matt's strange customs. But I am trying, the way he totally invades my personal space, and takes over everyroom he enters with either his colorful ways of using "fuck" as punctuation for his sentences; or his powerful spray-on axe deoderant obvisouly means that he is simply a more advanced person than I. And my way of living is simply archaic and unnecessary. This is the only conclusion I can come to, doesn't it just seem to make sense to you? Why else would he do any of this? I guess I have a lot to learn about what it measn to be a man. It's a good thing I have matt hear as a perfect subject to study. I'm sure I will have plenty more to report to you later about the adventures of living with such an interesting animal.

Thank you Tom Waits

I don't often post song lyrics, but there's just something about these that I can't get over.

The piano has been drinking, my necktie is asleep
And the combo went back to new york, the jukebox has to take a leak
And the carpet needs a haircut, and the spotlight looks like a prison break
And the telephone’s out of cigarettes, and the balcony is on the make
And the piano has been drinking, the piano has been drinking...

And the menus are all freezing, and the light man’s blind in one eye
And he can’t see out of the other
And the piano-tuner’s got a hearing aid, and he showed up with his mother
And the piano has been drinking, the piano has been drinking
As the bouncer is a sumo wrestler cream-puff casper milktoast
And the owner is a mental midget with the i.q. of a fence post
’cause the piano has been drinking, the piano has been drinking...

And you can’t find your waitress with a geiger counter
And she hates you and your friends and you just can’t get served without her
And the box-office is drooling, and the bar stools are on fire
And the newspapers were fooling, and the ash-trays have retired
’cause the piano has been drinking, the piano has been drinking
The piano has been drinking, not me, not me, not me, not me, not me

Funny How it Always Seems Like Goodbye

It's a little bit funny, this feeling inside.....

I've watched nearly every one of my friends this semester depart off to their home lands. Full of promises and reassurances that we'll see each other again. Yet I can't help but feel the same way you do when someone write in your high school yearbook "keep in touch" I know we all want to stay in touch, but we've been turned out onto the real world. Coming to this school has brought us closer than anything else could have, but now we're facing the real world and the challenges that come with it. Yes it is possible to get to Germany, yes it is possible to get to Japan...but it's not likely.

I'm not one of those who can easily hide...

I've delivered two good friends to the gates of the rest of the world now, Ina and Hiroko. I have to admit each time was incredibly dificult. These were people I grew to care for very much, and it is hard now that they are not here. I'm not the only one two feel the sudden absence of this social comfort-circle. I spoke to both Dave and Yoon today--two others on my floor who were close to everyone who's one. We all agreed through heavy sighs and lingering thoughts that, our neighborhood is very different--though we suspect that it won't be quite as good last semester.
I realized as I swallowed back that all too familiar lump in my throat as I said goodbye to Hiroko that I had not expected to make such close friends so quickly hear in Los Angeles, and falling so fast left me very vulnerable in the end, which is not something that I'm used to. Perhaps it was the ease I always felt around them, perhaps it's the duanting idea of how hard it'll be to see them but I cannot help but feel loss when I think about everyone who's gone.

I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind that I put down in words....

Writing is cathartic. No matter how deep the pain, if you just write the words that race through your head, they can begin to slow down and allow you to move on. As I sit and write this latest entry about how much I will miss my friends, somehow I know that I will see them again. I sit here and write about how hard it will be to get to Japan, but I know that I'll see Hiroko again. As I sit here writing these unwanted feelings it occurs to me that the very fact that I have them shows me how close we all were--how much they meant to me, and how much I meant to them. Sometimes when I'm feeling down, I tend to not let it go (and if you've been on the receiving end of that I apologize and thank you for your patience simultaneously) but both talking about it and writing it out makes me realize the most important thing that I keep looking over. Hope. Hope and love keeps us all together, it has kept me together with my friends before I left, and will keep me with these after they have left. Until next time my friends, it will not be to far off. Thank you for such a wonderful semester--you are all missed.

How wonderful life is because you're in the world...

Cut The Crap

There has been a growing medical trend in America, concerning the general healthiness of middleaged adults. It's not a new trendy diet, nor a quick-fix-tummy-tuck program--and unlike those fads, this passing trend will hopefully be around a lot longer. While the procedure is a little invasive, the results are paramount to the immediate discomfort. I'm talking of course, about colonoscopies, that quick shot of revitalization that just lets all your troubles run away. There is volumes of research supporting the notion of this annual anal-clensing. Including countless celebrity endorsements. The major trend-a-lites of the hollywood scene, who seem to be able to keep with every trend, no matter how big or small, have already jumped on board to the idea of colonoscopies. From movie stars to politicians, even to famous tv journalists and personalites.
Yet despite this new-found concern for internal affairs, there are some people who cannot get behind this movement. What's worse is that some of these people are major figureheads in our nations media, and their faces and personalities are broadcast accross the world--these people are on the frontline of the world's perception of us, and the last thing we need is another uptight, cringy-faced TV personality telling the world what it's doing wrong. The leader of the colonoscopy back-lash is without a doubt Fox News Celebrity Bill O'Rielly--which is a crying shame because there has never been a man more in need of a colonoscopy before. One can tell just watching a few minutes of his talk show, or even reading his words in a newspot that Bill O'rielly if just full of the nasty stuff that makes us all irritable and uptight. Obviously this sour disposition and wildly alarming statements are not necessarily Bill's fault, his distrust in the effectivness in colonoscopy's has had him backed up for years--in fact I'd be willing to bet ole' Billy could use two.
Don't find yourself in the position of these nay-sayers. While, a colonoscopy may not be a terribly comfortable position to be in, the ramifications of such a procedure are obviously positive. What Bill O'Rielly and others like him don't understand is not just how much people will like them more, but how much better they'll feel about themselves. In the end, that's what it's all about. So I say to you Bill O'Rielly: Cut the Crap.