I read some old MySpace conversations I've had back in the day and I can't help but wonder what happened. As my eyes scanned the digital canvas of flirtations past, I started thinking about my current feelings and all that and I something is definitely different. I mean, I was funny, witty, nice, etc. Now, it's just not as prevelant. I don't know. I mean, it's not like someone stole my puppy or something, but come on.
Maybe I'm just a little older and "wiser." I guard my heart much more now, which I think is a good thing. I mean, that's what we're supposed to do during the weeding out process. When you leave yourself too open, you get hurt way more often than need be. Opening it up at the right time (or knowing when that is) would probably help.
Not sure if I'm more jaded or if I've learned my lesson from past burns. Either way, I need to crank up the funny quotient. I used to be a staple. I'd be hard pressed to say it's even a thumb tack now.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Goodwill
So, my mom's guy has cancer. It's in some of his endocrine organs. It's pretty progressive and he's pretty old, so the writing is pretty much on the wall as far as I know. It's really more a matter of "when" moreso than "if" at this point.
I've been trying to spend more time with him, which is pretty much the complete opposite of what used to happen. I was rubber and he was glue. Anything he'd try to do with me would bouce off and wind up sticking on him. We had our fare share of rubs, no matter the subject it seemed. But now I'm trying to make a concerted effort to be more friendly, more welcoming, more like myself. It's a shame it took this for me to act like this, but it's better late than never. At least that's what I tell myself.
I've been trying to spend more time with him, which is pretty much the complete opposite of what used to happen. I was rubber and he was glue. Anything he'd try to do with me would bouce off and wind up sticking on him. We had our fare share of rubs, no matter the subject it seemed. But now I'm trying to make a concerted effort to be more friendly, more welcoming, more like myself. It's a shame it took this for me to act like this, but it's better late than never. At least that's what I tell myself.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Yes We Can
As my ears ring from the horns and screams and joyful wails of the people, the election of Barack Obama brings about the idea that anything is possible.
But possible for whom?
There's a reason most of those crying were black people. You see, even in the midst of the unifying words and the togetherness that Barack's words foster, for some reason I can't help but think of the generations of black people before me who never, ever thought to themselves yes, we can.
Never did they think there would actually be a time when someone of their color would rise to rule the free world. They were too busy trying to run from the police dogs or figuring out how to avoid being beaten and lynched. Dr. King's dream was an ideal for the future. By no means did it reflect the trials of the times.
My family isn't that of Barack's. We are no first-generation African Americans. I come from a family of slaves and have no knowledge of which African country carries my ancestry. My mother grew up in Arkansas and would have been in that first group of teens to be integrated into the high schools had she not moved out to California in the preceeding summer. She still remembers having to go to colored bathrooms and being forced to sit in the balcony to watch every movie because no Black was allowed to sit below the mezzanine. When thoughts creep up, they seem to seep out through her tear ducts. It is true for so many others.
After generations of being told first that we weren't human, then human but unequal, then equal but treated with actions incongruent with those words, we finally received a mighty blow which never thought could really happen.
Believe in ourselves?
Yes, we can.
Believe that it's true when we tell our children they can be anything they want?
Yes, we can.
When others tell us it can't be done because it's never been done before, we now have a response.
Yes, we can.
But possible for whom?
There's a reason most of those crying were black people. You see, even in the midst of the unifying words and the togetherness that Barack's words foster, for some reason I can't help but think of the generations of black people before me who never, ever thought to themselves yes, we can.
Never did they think there would actually be a time when someone of their color would rise to rule the free world. They were too busy trying to run from the police dogs or figuring out how to avoid being beaten and lynched. Dr. King's dream was an ideal for the future. By no means did it reflect the trials of the times.
My family isn't that of Barack's. We are no first-generation African Americans. I come from a family of slaves and have no knowledge of which African country carries my ancestry. My mother grew up in Arkansas and would have been in that first group of teens to be integrated into the high schools had she not moved out to California in the preceeding summer. She still remembers having to go to colored bathrooms and being forced to sit in the balcony to watch every movie because no Black was allowed to sit below the mezzanine. When thoughts creep up, they seem to seep out through her tear ducts. It is true for so many others.
After generations of being told first that we weren't human, then human but unequal, then equal but treated with actions incongruent with those words, we finally received a mighty blow which never thought could really happen.
Believe in ourselves?
Yes, we can.
Believe that it's true when we tell our children they can be anything they want?
Yes, we can.
When others tell us it can't be done because it's never been done before, we now have a response.
Yes, we can.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Go Figure
Of course, once I declared my intentions to leave, things would get complicated. I knew the second I'd make up my mind and choose which prong of the fork in the road down which I'd travel, that things would then get "interesting."
I'm not sure which side is throwing it at me, but I'll figure it out.
Too big of a moment in my life to get it wrong.
I'm not sure which side is throwing it at me, but I'll figure it out.
Too big of a moment in my life to get it wrong.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Ugh
I suppose, one of the things that distinguishes me from the "typical male" is that I'm willing to acknowledge my emotions a little more than the average guy. I'm "in tune" with myself, I guess you could say. Well, it's nights like this when I wish it wasn't true.
Monday, October 6, 2008
Aloha
"Aloha, buddy!"
I started my conversation with a jet-lagged Ryan with more enthusiasm than I felt like he probably had since he'd just been flying from Sacramento to Maui (layover at LAX complete with two security checks because of problems with the tickets for him and his new wife, Holly). I decided to make up for him on my end, especially considering I expected zero calls since they were on their honeymoon. I know if I should be so lucky as to have a honeymoon, calling my friend is going to be the last thing on my mind.
As we talked about the flight(s) and how, aside from the extra security checks, it was a surprisingly smooth flight, I began to remember when I went to Hawaii. From what I've heard, Oahu is nothing compared to Maui in terms of sheer beauty, but still, it's a little better than sitting next to a box fan that barely works while the temperature flies past 100 degrees like it's late for a date with 120.
I planned to use aloha again if he called me right before they left, since it can be used both in welcoming and departing. It has two meanings, much like howdy is short for "How do you do?" and "I'm a Republican." (Actually, it has 10 different variations, but let's not get into that right now.)
I told him about how amazing Hawaii is and thought to myself about how the water just looks different there. When we got done talking, I began to think about why I'd been there. Work had been sapping the life out of me. I needed a break, an escape, a vacation, something I hadn't taken in the 2+ years I'd been working for my newspaper. It was a much-needed trip I took by myself and used for introspection, relaxation and some great quality time with my friend Grace, who was nice enough to let me stay with her and her burgeoning family during the five-day stay. I can still remember, I almost took my resume...
It's been a while since then -- a little more than two years -- but it's been even longer since I've gotten the feeling that God wanted me somewhere other than my hometown. I haven't known where or why or when or really any of the W's, but I've just gotten the feeling this place wasn't for me.
So, I've waited...
I've lived my life in the process of trying to figure all this out, complete with becoming a beat writer for my paper, getting to cover the Rose Bowl(!), watching all of my coworkers quit, being laid off by unsaid paper, staying confident I'd find something quickly, going into a rut when the job fairy kept procrastinating on my case and coming out of it a stronger, more grounded man, who unfortunately still is without employment.
A little over a year ago, I began to get a series of coincidences, which all seemed to point to the same place. (Side note: I don't believe in coincidences. I believe those unexplainable instances are God's way of speaking to us now.) After getting enough of them to really take notice (I usually need a bludgeon), I decided to take a trip to the place and see why it could be pulling me so much, especially considering I'd never been there for anything more than a football game in a neighboring suburb.
Something about it just drew me in. The most touristy thing I did while there was walk through a park and take some pictures of statues. Most of the time, I was just doing normal activities: walking to the grocery store, walking to the neighborhood pizza place, walking around looking at novelty toy and bookstores, going to the movies, laughing with friends.
There was no luster to this trip, no fanfare or pomp. It wasn't the 4th of July or Oktoberfest or some joyous occasion. In fact, it was just a dreary week in February where the warmest it got was somewhere in the low 40's and the coldest was right around 6. I got yelled at by a city worker, followed for more than two blocks by a man who I'm pretty sure wanted to sell me drugs and slipped so hard on my last night that I got a bruise the size of a 5 lb. weight on my hip.
It has stuck with me for nearly eight months. (The longing to be there, not the bruise. That would be some nasty bruise!) So, I've decided that from now on, I will be looking for work there exclusively and if I haven't found anything by some time in January, I will just go and figure things out when I get there.
I never got to use aloha on Ryan. He and Holly left on a red-eye flight late one night and returned safely. I feel like I can still use it, though.
Welcome (to my future) and goodbye (to the past).
Aloha.
I started my conversation with a jet-lagged Ryan with more enthusiasm than I felt like he probably had since he'd just been flying from Sacramento to Maui (layover at LAX complete with two security checks because of problems with the tickets for him and his new wife, Holly). I decided to make up for him on my end, especially considering I expected zero calls since they were on their honeymoon. I know if I should be so lucky as to have a honeymoon, calling my friend is going to be the last thing on my mind.
As we talked about the flight(s) and how, aside from the extra security checks, it was a surprisingly smooth flight, I began to remember when I went to Hawaii. From what I've heard, Oahu is nothing compared to Maui in terms of sheer beauty, but still, it's a little better than sitting next to a box fan that barely works while the temperature flies past 100 degrees like it's late for a date with 120.
I planned to use aloha again if he called me right before they left, since it can be used both in welcoming and departing. It has two meanings, much like howdy is short for "How do you do?" and "I'm a Republican." (Actually, it has 10 different variations, but let's not get into that right now.)
I told him about how amazing Hawaii is and thought to myself about how the water just looks different there. When we got done talking, I began to think about why I'd been there. Work had been sapping the life out of me. I needed a break, an escape, a vacation, something I hadn't taken in the 2+ years I'd been working for my newspaper. It was a much-needed trip I took by myself and used for introspection, relaxation and some great quality time with my friend Grace, who was nice enough to let me stay with her and her burgeoning family during the five-day stay. I can still remember, I almost took my resume...
It's been a while since then -- a little more than two years -- but it's been even longer since I've gotten the feeling that God wanted me somewhere other than my hometown. I haven't known where or why or when or really any of the W's, but I've just gotten the feeling this place wasn't for me.
So, I've waited...
I've lived my life in the process of trying to figure all this out, complete with becoming a beat writer for my paper, getting to cover the Rose Bowl(!), watching all of my coworkers quit, being laid off by unsaid paper, staying confident I'd find something quickly, going into a rut when the job fairy kept procrastinating on my case and coming out of it a stronger, more grounded man, who unfortunately still is without employment.
A little over a year ago, I began to get a series of coincidences, which all seemed to point to the same place. (Side note: I don't believe in coincidences. I believe those unexplainable instances are God's way of speaking to us now.) After getting enough of them to really take notice (I usually need a bludgeon), I decided to take a trip to the place and see why it could be pulling me so much, especially considering I'd never been there for anything more than a football game in a neighboring suburb.
Something about it just drew me in. The most touristy thing I did while there was walk through a park and take some pictures of statues. Most of the time, I was just doing normal activities: walking to the grocery store, walking to the neighborhood pizza place, walking around looking at novelty toy and bookstores, going to the movies, laughing with friends.
There was no luster to this trip, no fanfare or pomp. It wasn't the 4th of July or Oktoberfest or some joyous occasion. In fact, it was just a dreary week in February where the warmest it got was somewhere in the low 40's and the coldest was right around 6. I got yelled at by a city worker, followed for more than two blocks by a man who I'm pretty sure wanted to sell me drugs and slipped so hard on my last night that I got a bruise the size of a 5 lb. weight on my hip.
It has stuck with me for nearly eight months. (The longing to be there, not the bruise. That would be some nasty bruise!) So, I've decided that from now on, I will be looking for work there exclusively and if I haven't found anything by some time in January, I will just go and figure things out when I get there.
I never got to use aloha on Ryan. He and Holly left on a red-eye flight late one night and returned safely. I feel like I can still use it, though.
Welcome (to my future) and goodbye (to the past).
Aloha.
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