Yes, it's late. And yes, I may have subconsciously rigged the results, to boot.
Which Trainspotting Character Are You?
Which Trainspotting Character Are You?
Sunday, March 21, 2004
The World of Medicine - E is having her surgery in the next town over this Tuesday. Hopefully, that trick knee of hers will get better and I can finally teach her all the kung-fu she's been itching to learn for months. It's hard to do a horse stance, though, when your knee's likely to give out. Of course, she's been talking over the past week about wanting to do yoga along with her Tai Chi. Great, she'll develop her internal energy to the point where she knocks on the door of enlightenment and fires chi from her hands a la Dragonball Z while I'm incurring all this karmic debt from the joy I take in sparring with bladed weapons.
Aw, but knives are fun, though. Oh well.
Once Upon a Time in Athens - Last week at club went well; only DATU_B and myself were there, so we got in a decent amount of FMA work. And then came my next steps into the world of Muay Thai -- shin blocks. Yes, it still hurts. Yes, E questions the point of this type of training. Yes, I'll keep on doing it. Why? Because even though my ability to walk was temporarily hampered, I saw a new summit that I could reach in my martial arts training.
"A new body... at last!"* - Ladies and gentlemen... the Ninth Doctor.
*The Master, Doctor Who: The Keeper of Traken
Aw, but knives are fun, though. Oh well.
Once Upon a Time in Athens - Last week at club went well; only DATU_B and myself were there, so we got in a decent amount of FMA work. And then came my next steps into the world of Muay Thai -- shin blocks. Yes, it still hurts. Yes, E questions the point of this type of training. Yes, I'll keep on doing it. Why? Because even though my ability to walk was temporarily hampered, I saw a new summit that I could reach in my martial arts training.
"A new body... at last!"* - Ladies and gentlemen... the Ninth Doctor.
*The Master, Doctor Who: The Keeper of Traken
Thursday, March 18, 2004
You might ask, "So how does a Filipino who doesn't, to his knowledge, have one ounce of Irish blood in him, celebrate St. Patrick's Day?"
Well, despite being alcohol-free (due mostly to poverty, not temperance), by renting Gangs of New York and The Commitments.
Gangs finally cemented one idea in my mind, thanks to Martin Scorsese: Gangster $hi+ is gangster $hi+, no matter what time period or nationality is involved.
Well, despite being alcohol-free (due mostly to poverty, not temperance), by renting Gangs of New York and The Commitments.
Gangs finally cemented one idea in my mind, thanks to Martin Scorsese: Gangster $hi+ is gangster $hi+, no matter what time period or nationality is involved.
Well, my Tuesday was pretty uneventful. I didn't attend club because it's Finals Week on campus, which meant there wouldn't be much in the way of structure or new material. Which in turn meant I really couldn't justify the expense -- that I reportledly will incur significantly less of next quarter. Then, I'll take on the title of "Assistant FMA Instructor" which will theoretically get me into the workout space for free. Then, instead of paying ungodly amounts just to get in, I could maybe give the club some dues money, attend the seminar on Brazillian Jiu-Jitsu, and still have some in my pocket.
I tell you, that day was full of ennui. It was meant to be a day off, but the time I should've spent relaxing was spent "treading water," metaphorically speaking, dealing with one set of minor, yet stressful emergencies after another. It was 9 PM, and god dammit, I was GOING to have my relaxation time. But, there was one delay after another. It was 11 PM, and I finally got out of the house -- but to go where? I tried my favorite coffee shop, open 24/7 for a few days during finals week, but it was all full. Went to the school's library and got to hang out there for a bit, but the atmosphere was full of stress and anxiety. So I went back home, slightly relaxed because it was the middle of the night -- I'm always more relaxed when the rest of the world is asleep. No one to bother me. But that only leads to the same problem. I get too tired in the morning, burn my way through the day, and the exhaustion just compounds.
It's just been this daily test of will lately, in which I keep falling just a little bit short.
I tell you, that day was full of ennui. It was meant to be a day off, but the time I should've spent relaxing was spent "treading water," metaphorically speaking, dealing with one set of minor, yet stressful emergencies after another. It was 9 PM, and god dammit, I was GOING to have my relaxation time. But, there was one delay after another. It was 11 PM, and I finally got out of the house -- but to go where? I tried my favorite coffee shop, open 24/7 for a few days during finals week, but it was all full. Went to the school's library and got to hang out there for a bit, but the atmosphere was full of stress and anxiety. So I went back home, slightly relaxed because it was the middle of the night -- I'm always more relaxed when the rest of the world is asleep. No one to bother me. But that only leads to the same problem. I get too tired in the morning, burn my way through the day, and the exhaustion just compounds.
It's just been this daily test of will lately, in which I keep falling just a little bit short.
Las Vegas Police Nab Ohio Sniper Suspect
Good. Now, maybe my two friends in the CPD (one of whom works Freeway Patrol) can rest easy.
Good. Now, maybe my two friends in the CPD (one of whom works Freeway Patrol) can rest easy.
These video clips of shotokan kata keep getting passed around different servers like some stolen mascot that one gang of high school seniors horked from the rival school. Here's where they are this week.
I looked for them as I read some article on the internet somewhere (I forgot the link and I don't feel like Googling it) about the applications of the various 270 degree turns in certain forms. It also made me consider what I saw as E and I watched Way of the Dragon the other night.
Ah, the many ways ol' Brucie would take digs on karate. Yes, I know he didn't hate all karate. Yes, I know that he took what he could from wherever he could get it. One of his (dubbed) lines, spoken to another character who put down karate strictly because it was Japanese, was "If it's useful in a fight, it doesn't matter where it comes from." Yet he looks at his fellow Chinese practicing it, and goes on about how karate has no power.
For a lot of exponents, their karate doesn't have power, that's the sad part. I remember seeing a bunch of black belts from different karate and taekwondo schools performing the same kata. I'm not a black belt myself, but 90% of what I saw was pathetic. Anyhow, blah blah blah, I've ranted on this before. This entry wasn't supposed to be this long -- just a place for me to stash the above link.
I looked for them as I read some article on the internet somewhere (I forgot the link and I don't feel like Googling it) about the applications of the various 270 degree turns in certain forms. It also made me consider what I saw as E and I watched Way of the Dragon the other night.
Ah, the many ways ol' Brucie would take digs on karate. Yes, I know he didn't hate all karate. Yes, I know that he took what he could from wherever he could get it. One of his (dubbed) lines, spoken to another character who put down karate strictly because it was Japanese, was "If it's useful in a fight, it doesn't matter where it comes from." Yet he looks at his fellow Chinese practicing it, and goes on about how karate has no power.
For a lot of exponents, their karate doesn't have power, that's the sad part. I remember seeing a bunch of black belts from different karate and taekwondo schools performing the same kata. I'm not a black belt myself, but 90% of what I saw was pathetic. Anyhow, blah blah blah, I've ranted on this before. This entry wasn't supposed to be this long -- just a place for me to stash the above link.
Tuesday, March 16, 2004
Monday, March 15, 2004
Rather than re-type SPEAKMAN's antics after last Friday's party, I figure I'll just cut and paste an email I sent.
Let me tell you the ghetto-ass stuff he pulled after the party. Just like he hogs me during club, he hogged me again as I was about to leave to take E home. He was like "Wait, wait... wait... I'll walk with you guys, I'm going home, too." I wanted to say, "Oh, but we're driving home" but I didn't wanna give him any ideas. Turns out, he got that idea anyway..."Oh, you guys *drove*?" So I just rolled my eyes and was like, in a monotone "Go on get in where do you need dropped off?" When I came back, I told his roommate and he just laughed. He described [SPEAKMAN] as "overworked and under-laid." Perfect if you ask me.
Sunday, March 14, 2004
OUATIA - Item Four, cont.
Knife fighting with washable crayola markers. There was Kali vs. Kali and Kali vs. American Bowie style. Having small markers did favor the kali people, as the Bowie people had a bunch of techniques closed off to them because they're used to working with larger knives. I fought four individuals; my biggest struggles were against DATU_E, who can be one tricky devil and another, let's call him BIG POPPA who was just relentless. For a Caucasian fighter learning a western style, he came close to juramentado mode a couple of times there.
Booze and Weapons
Yes, it was time for another MMAC party. Weapon flashing, drinking, war stories, etc. A good and safe time was had by all.
Remind me to detail my friend SPEAKMAN's actions before and after the party...
Kevin Smith Fix
E and I watched all the episodes of the Clerks animated series. It was a decent 'toon, but not ABC material -- I can see why they'd can it. As with the rest of the View Askewniverse, if you're not a fanboy (of Smith's movies or comics in general), you won't get half the jokes.
Knife fighting with washable crayola markers. There was Kali vs. Kali and Kali vs. American Bowie style. Having small markers did favor the kali people, as the Bowie people had a bunch of techniques closed off to them because they're used to working with larger knives. I fought four individuals; my biggest struggles were against DATU_E, who can be one tricky devil and another, let's call him BIG POPPA who was just relentless. For a Caucasian fighter learning a western style, he came close to juramentado mode a couple of times there.
Booze and Weapons
Yes, it was time for another MMAC party. Weapon flashing, drinking, war stories, etc. A good and safe time was had by all.
Remind me to detail my friend SPEAKMAN's actions before and after the party...
Kevin Smith Fix
E and I watched all the episodes of the Clerks animated series. It was a decent 'toon, but not ABC material -- I can see why they'd can it. As with the rest of the View Askewniverse, if you're not a fanboy (of Smith's movies or comics in general), you won't get half the jokes.
Friday, March 12, 2004
As promised, a Rum and Monkey joint...
Are you damned?
Brought to you by Rum and Monkey
You will die a warrior and be spirited away by warbling wenches to the Hall of the Slain. Meat and mead for ever more, well until Ragnarok, anyway, when you will do battle with giants, giantesses, dwarfs, elves and Nidhug, a dragon who likes to nibble trees. Odin is great!
Are you damned?
Brought to you by Rum and Monkey
You will die a warrior and be spirited away by warbling wenches to the Hall of the Slain. Meat and mead for ever more, well until Ragnarok, anyway, when you will do battle with giants, giantesses, dwarfs, elves and Nidhug, a dragon who likes to nibble trees. Odin is great!
The last official session of club for this quarter was a "free day," basically all sparring. We had three options: stickfighting, kickboxing or grappling. Guess where I was most of the time.
I must've sparred 7 or 8 times. My overall experience was positive. I learned many many things and, I hear tell, helped other people learn some things. There were a few negative aspects. I'll go through them first, but mainly because they happened first.
ITEM ONE - "The horror, the horror..."
I was anxious to try single stick kali fighting again. My anxious partner was -- you guessed it -- SPEAKMAN. I've reached the conclusion that this person is a true menace to himself and others. I realize that he probably doesn't mean to be, but I don't know what his damage is. Does he have something he feels he needs to prove? I don't know, but for someone who's trained kenpo (granted, I'm not sure what level he's reached) he spars like someone who's no more than 1/2 to 3/4 through the colored ranks. His control (both physical and mental) while sparring is close to nil IMO. In fact, this is probably part of the reason that he makes such a terrible uke during training drills.
Anyway, he was my first opponent, natch. To his credit, he landed his fair share of shots. Hard shots. To my credit, I took them all and gave my own back. At the end, he was the one whining like a b!+ch about all the hand shots he took. I said nothing about the ones of his that I took. His fighting stance was absolutely ridiculous. I don't know if my description can do it justice. Picture every non-trained caucasian person you've ever seen with a martial arts weapon in his or her hands doing a schlock imitation of something they saw from Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon and you have some idea.
With all the shots he got, his stances left him open to repeated bashings with angle 7 attacks. That stuck in his craw a bit: "I couldn't get past all your angle 7s." That's because you kept falling for it like an idiot. If I can land three shots in the same place (his rib cage) in a row, it's not because I was any good. It's because you're the one doing something wrong.
Anyway, what I saw after our round was over was the worst example of sparring gone wrong. I almost blame myself; in fact I would, if not for the fact that SPEAKMAN's an @$$ all by himself. I sort of egged people on about trying kali vs. shillelagh sparring. Of course, he was game for that. He even got his roommate as an opponent. I should've listened to that inner wincing I experienced when I saw SPEAKMAN reach for both padded kali sticks.
I won't go into details, because even the morning after, remembering what I saw ticks me off. Suffice it to say that 1) a friendly sparring match shouldn't take you across the length of the entire workout space and 2) when you obviously have your opponent cornered -- like in the corner of the freaking room, you don't keep wailing away like you got no sense, which is exactly what SPEAKMAN did. The officers saw this, broke it up and spoke to them. I'm not sure what was said, although afterward all the stickfighters got a speech about which techniques we were and weren't able to use for awhile (which I and the GANGSTA OF NEW YORK sort of disregarded for our match -- see below), and I don't blame them.
Feeling a bit responsible, I approached SPEAKMAN and his roomie afterward and, half-serious/half-jokingly (I should've been more stern, maybe) had this exchange:
I don't relish the fact that he was hurt. No, even he doesn't deserve any of that. But my biggest fear that he didn't learn a damn thing. If he doesn't seem to be learning anything yet from all the times he's managed to hurt himself -- I mean, for pete's sake, I've stepped on his bare feet no less than 5 times -- I really really hope he doesn't have to learn it by hurting someone else.
ITEM TWO - "I'm gonna take this kali stick and I'm gonna whop you on that side of your face... and you want to know something? There's not a damn thing you're gonna be able to do about it."
I had a calmer round of kali sparring with BILLY JACK. I did follow the edict, except for a few times when I just plain forgot, to limit ourselves to the first 5 angles of attack. With some constructive advice from DATU_S, BILLY JACK and I had a decent give-and-take sparring match.
One lesson I learned from this fight and subsequent matches (but really didn't put into practice) was how much success you could have simply by pushing forward. That is, following through with a series of attacks as if to finish, going in for the kill. But, wanting only to soak the bare minimum amount of hits, I resorted to the point-sparring mentality: Go in, peck away, and get out.
Anyway, this match was definitely my best technical fight since I took the time and maintained the mindset necessary to think properly. I got to work the live hand more, as well as follow through with my strikes.
ITEM THREE - East Meets West
I respect the shillelagh a whole lot more. I went a round with the Irish stick/knife officer, the GANGSTA OF NEW YORK. Well, to give him the (further) respect he deserves being an officer of the club, we'll call him DATU_E from now on. We found ourselves going at it pretty well. I know I got to play around with every single angle of attack, except for maybe the 10th one. DATU_E's got like 6" or 7" in height on me, and between that, his reach and his stick, I don't know how I would've gotten any overhead shots in. Anyhow, I learned quite a few lessons on kali vs. shillelagh.
First off, it sucks to fight someone more proficient in the largo range than you are. DATU_E decided to stop using certain long range tactics just out of courtesy. I was fast enough to evade certain strikes, but I couldn't close the distance more than halfway before his stick came back around for a follow-up strike. He got in a lot of hits to my legs at that range -- and not just pegging my lead leg, either. But that was more my fault. I need to combine my elevation with low-line blocking. It cost me many a head shot, let me tell you.
The most successful thing I did there was play with the abaniko. Supposedly, it was one of the things I did that gave DATU_E something to consider. I scored quite a few elbow shots past his lower half of his stick, which is intended to serve as a shield. I'm sure it won't work if I ever have to face him stick-vs.-stick again.
ITEM FOUR - "The Hunted, Part II"
The stick thing had run its course, and I was itching to try knife fighting with the washable Crayola markers that DATU_T brought in. Apparently, the club hadn't done that in a year or so due to some unfortunate incidents -- how the blue hell do you get hit so hard that you're picking felt tip from your gut?
...to be continued. This is getting long.
I must've sparred 7 or 8 times. My overall experience was positive. I learned many many things and, I hear tell, helped other people learn some things. There were a few negative aspects. I'll go through them first, but mainly because they happened first.
ITEM ONE - "The horror, the horror..."
I was anxious to try single stick kali fighting again. My anxious partner was -- you guessed it -- SPEAKMAN. I've reached the conclusion that this person is a true menace to himself and others. I realize that he probably doesn't mean to be, but I don't know what his damage is. Does he have something he feels he needs to prove? I don't know, but for someone who's trained kenpo (granted, I'm not sure what level he's reached) he spars like someone who's no more than 1/2 to 3/4 through the colored ranks. His control (both physical and mental) while sparring is close to nil IMO. In fact, this is probably part of the reason that he makes such a terrible uke during training drills.
Anyway, he was my first opponent, natch. To his credit, he landed his fair share of shots. Hard shots. To my credit, I took them all and gave my own back. At the end, he was the one whining like a b!+ch about all the hand shots he took. I said nothing about the ones of his that I took. His fighting stance was absolutely ridiculous. I don't know if my description can do it justice. Picture every non-trained caucasian person you've ever seen with a martial arts weapon in his or her hands doing a schlock imitation of something they saw from Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon and you have some idea.
With all the shots he got, his stances left him open to repeated bashings with angle 7 attacks. That stuck in his craw a bit: "I couldn't get past all your angle 7s." That's because you kept falling for it like an idiot. If I can land three shots in the same place (his rib cage) in a row, it's not because I was any good. It's because you're the one doing something wrong.
Anyway, what I saw after our round was over was the worst example of sparring gone wrong. I almost blame myself; in fact I would, if not for the fact that SPEAKMAN's an @$$ all by himself. I sort of egged people on about trying kali vs. shillelagh sparring. Of course, he was game for that. He even got his roommate as an opponent. I should've listened to that inner wincing I experienced when I saw SPEAKMAN reach for both padded kali sticks.
I won't go into details, because even the morning after, remembering what I saw ticks me off. Suffice it to say that 1) a friendly sparring match shouldn't take you across the length of the entire workout space and 2) when you obviously have your opponent cornered -- like in the corner of the freaking room, you don't keep wailing away like you got no sense, which is exactly what SPEAKMAN did. The officers saw this, broke it up and spoke to them. I'm not sure what was said, although afterward all the stickfighters got a speech about which techniques we were and weren't able to use for awhile (which I and the GANGSTA OF NEW YORK sort of disregarded for our match -- see below), and I don't blame them.
Feeling a bit responsible, I approached SPEAKMAN and his roomie afterward and, half-serious/half-jokingly (I should've been more stern, maybe) had this exchange:
ME (to SPEAKMAN): Damn, dude... you really gotta CALM DOWN.I stopped because clearly, the tempers involved hadn't quite cooled yet. Well, I went to doing my own thing, which I'll write on about. But SPEAKMAN's story doesn't end there. He gave some kickboxing a try, again with his roommate who's a better man than me. I wouldn't've gone another round unless I intended to hurt him. Anyway, I don't know what happened, but by the end of the night, SPEAKMAN's left shoulder (momentarily dislocated, he says) and right hand (possible broken fingers) were on ice.
SPEAKMAN'S ROOMIE (to SPEAKMAN): You really do, man. You're starting to piss me off.
I don't relish the fact that he was hurt. No, even he doesn't deserve any of that. But my biggest fear that he didn't learn a damn thing. If he doesn't seem to be learning anything yet from all the times he's managed to hurt himself -- I mean, for pete's sake, I've stepped on his bare feet no less than 5 times -- I really really hope he doesn't have to learn it by hurting someone else.
ITEM TWO - "I'm gonna take this kali stick and I'm gonna whop you on that side of your face... and you want to know something? There's not a damn thing you're gonna be able to do about it."
I had a calmer round of kali sparring with BILLY JACK. I did follow the edict, except for a few times when I just plain forgot, to limit ourselves to the first 5 angles of attack. With some constructive advice from DATU_S, BILLY JACK and I had a decent give-and-take sparring match.
One lesson I learned from this fight and subsequent matches (but really didn't put into practice) was how much success you could have simply by pushing forward. That is, following through with a series of attacks as if to finish, going in for the kill. But, wanting only to soak the bare minimum amount of hits, I resorted to the point-sparring mentality: Go in, peck away, and get out.
Anyway, this match was definitely my best technical fight since I took the time and maintained the mindset necessary to think properly. I got to work the live hand more, as well as follow through with my strikes.
ITEM THREE - East Meets West
I respect the shillelagh a whole lot more. I went a round with the Irish stick/knife officer, the GANGSTA OF NEW YORK. Well, to give him the (further) respect he deserves being an officer of the club, we'll call him DATU_E from now on. We found ourselves going at it pretty well. I know I got to play around with every single angle of attack, except for maybe the 10th one. DATU_E's got like 6" or 7" in height on me, and between that, his reach and his stick, I don't know how I would've gotten any overhead shots in. Anyhow, I learned quite a few lessons on kali vs. shillelagh.
First off, it sucks to fight someone more proficient in the largo range than you are. DATU_E decided to stop using certain long range tactics just out of courtesy. I was fast enough to evade certain strikes, but I couldn't close the distance more than halfway before his stick came back around for a follow-up strike. He got in a lot of hits to my legs at that range -- and not just pegging my lead leg, either. But that was more my fault. I need to combine my elevation with low-line blocking. It cost me many a head shot, let me tell you.
The most successful thing I did there was play with the abaniko. Supposedly, it was one of the things I did that gave DATU_E something to consider. I scored quite a few elbow shots past his lower half of his stick, which is intended to serve as a shield. I'm sure it won't work if I ever have to face him stick-vs.-stick again.
ITEM FOUR - "The Hunted, Part II"
The stick thing had run its course, and I was itching to try knife fighting with the washable Crayola markers that DATU_T brought in. Apparently, the club hadn't done that in a year or so due to some unfortunate incidents -- how the blue hell do you get hit so hard that you're picking felt tip from your gut?
...to be continued. This is getting long.
Thursday, March 11, 2004
One of my favorite stories ever first appeared in the magazine Analog in 1977, developed into a full length novel and now stands to become a movie:
Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card
Wednesday, March 10, 2004
Yesterday was another fun session of BJJ techniques with my friend Mr. SPEAKMAN as my partner. For some undisclosed reason, he couldn't stay more than 30 minutes after the start of club, but proceeded to hog me for every second of his stay. What was more frustrating was screwing up a takedown -- I probably only performed it correctly twice out of ten times. The worst part was that I really can't blame SPEAKMAN in any way for it.
Ah, the joys of FMA footwork. The drills we did last club really tied things together for me, as far as how strikes and blocks tie into your footwork.
We FMA folks joined up with the shill... shillal... the Irish stick people (it's late, and I just got in from work) for the last bit of class. Somehow, I got the idea that there'd be a bit of sparring involved, but instead we got samples of each systems techniques, including takedowns.
Yes, if somehow my knowledge of FMA somehow reaches any sort of plateau during my time in Athens, I may just have to give the shill... Irish stick a try.
Ah, the joys of FMA footwork. The drills we did last club really tied things together for me, as far as how strikes and blocks tie into your footwork.
We FMA folks joined up with the shill... shillal... the Irish stick people (it's late, and I just got in from work) for the last bit of class. Somehow, I got the idea that there'd be a bit of sparring involved, but instead we got samples of each systems techniques, including takedowns.
Yes, if somehow my knowledge of FMA somehow reaches any sort of plateau during my time in Athens, I may just have to give the shill... Irish stick a try.
I don't know how close to the Arnold Battle of Columbus this joke was made, but I read this quote by Craig Kilborn in the local rag this past Monday:
Governor Schwarzenegger has come out against gay marriage, and then he went back to slathering body oil all over his muscles in front of other guys.As I said, I wish I could've gone this year, especially since I was in the city at the time. But, there were more important things to be had, like time with E on her birthday celebration day.
Monday, March 08, 2004
I didn't get a chance to really mention it, but yesterday's entries were made from a friend's house in Columbus. E and I went there over the weekend for a belated birthday bash. I had so much more to say, but so little time, so here it is now.
ISA
It was nice getting reacquainted with several old friends, and make a couple of new ones. I swear even someone I thought was an ice queen seemed nicer. There's always something about being surrounded in a circle of warmth and love.
However, there was one person in particular that I could've lived without seeing: E's ex-boyfriend, let's call him MR. THOMAS. Now, MR. THOMAS really isn't a bad guy, but I'm convinced that he's the sort of guy I would've kept at arm's length anyway, even if he had no connection to me at all. Kinda snooty and intellectually arrogant, he's the kind of person who makes annoying comment after annoying comment that you're fine with initially but sort of grates more and more on your nerves until you finally just want to lash out with your AK-47 and take out everyone in the room.
I have a personal theory about MR. THOMAS based on my observations him as well as my exposure to the GLBT community throughout the time I spent working in the mental health field. I've been reluctant to share these with E, because she'd probably think that such observations are the product of being blinded by the alpha-male gene.
In any case, my skills at being deceptively civil were in full effect that night. That whole day in fact. He and a friend of his accompanied E and me at the Museum of Art to see a Buddhist art exhibition. E brought it up in conversation while we drove down there. Once again, I made my feelings on the matter rather plain and she actually cried just at the thought of me going through any awkwardness. I tried to reassure her that there was no real awkwardness. Yes, there was the slight discomfort of having to act deceptively friendly and warm. I would be more comfortable -- and in fact was very comfortable -- being on the other side of the room where I don't have to interact with him. No, I don't want to hurt the man (unless he steps out of line) and if I should ever happen to see him, say, fall off an ocean liner, I'd gladly and quickly throw him a life preserver. (And, that's it.)
DALAWA
I wanted to share these with another friend of E's who was at the party who voiced her still-active dislike for MR. THOMAS. Now, although this sort of met with E's disapproval when I told her about it later, I voiced my own dislike with the sole purpose of winning this friend of hers over a little more.
I've known for awhile that a lot of people were quite pissed at MR. THOMAS over his treatment of E which, in short, was basically immature. Apparently, though, MR. THOMAS still isn't exactly Mr. Popular. Most of the people at that party were closer friends of his at one time or another. But, I got the distinct impression that aside from the people he actually brought with him, some (like me) tolerated his presence for E's sake.
TATLO
One of the better reunions was with a certain friend of mine of Irish origin by the name of Jameson. Ah, one day, I'll have to introduce you to my other friend Mr. Daniels.
APAT
You know you're really close friends with someone when she shows you and your girlfriend photos of a nude session taken by her husband.
LIMA
I wish I could've taken some time to hang with DATU B and DATU S at the Arnold Battle of Columbus where DATU S was scheduled to compete. Eh, well, there's always next year. Maybe I'll work up the courage to compete in forms.
ANIM
E was so happy to get back to our old stomping grounds. Well, most of them were our individual stomping grounds at different times before we knew each other, but that was part of the initial cool-ness of our relationship.
ISA
It was nice getting reacquainted with several old friends, and make a couple of new ones. I swear even someone I thought was an ice queen seemed nicer. There's always something about being surrounded in a circle of warmth and love.
However, there was one person in particular that I could've lived without seeing: E's ex-boyfriend, let's call him MR. THOMAS. Now, MR. THOMAS really isn't a bad guy, but I'm convinced that he's the sort of guy I would've kept at arm's length anyway, even if he had no connection to me at all. Kinda snooty and intellectually arrogant, he's the kind of person who makes annoying comment after annoying comment that you're fine with initially but sort of grates more and more on your nerves until you finally just want to lash out with your AK-47 and take out everyone in the room.
I have a personal theory about MR. THOMAS based on my observations him as well as my exposure to the GLBT community throughout the time I spent working in the mental health field. I've been reluctant to share these with E, because she'd probably think that such observations are the product of being blinded by the alpha-male gene.
In any case, my skills at being deceptively civil were in full effect that night. That whole day in fact. He and a friend of his accompanied E and me at the Museum of Art to see a Buddhist art exhibition. E brought it up in conversation while we drove down there. Once again, I made my feelings on the matter rather plain and she actually cried just at the thought of me going through any awkwardness. I tried to reassure her that there was no real awkwardness. Yes, there was the slight discomfort of having to act deceptively friendly and warm. I would be more comfortable -- and in fact was very comfortable -- being on the other side of the room where I don't have to interact with him. No, I don't want to hurt the man (unless he steps out of line) and if I should ever happen to see him, say, fall off an ocean liner, I'd gladly and quickly throw him a life preserver. (And, that's it.)
DALAWA
I wanted to share these with another friend of E's who was at the party who voiced her still-active dislike for MR. THOMAS. Now, although this sort of met with E's disapproval when I told her about it later, I voiced my own dislike with the sole purpose of winning this friend of hers over a little more.
I've known for awhile that a lot of people were quite pissed at MR. THOMAS over his treatment of E which, in short, was basically immature. Apparently, though, MR. THOMAS still isn't exactly Mr. Popular. Most of the people at that party were closer friends of his at one time or another. But, I got the distinct impression that aside from the people he actually brought with him, some (like me) tolerated his presence for E's sake.
TATLO
One of the better reunions was with a certain friend of mine of Irish origin by the name of Jameson. Ah, one day, I'll have to introduce you to my other friend Mr. Daniels.
APAT
You know you're really close friends with someone when she shows you and your girlfriend photos of a nude session taken by her husband.
LIMA
I wish I could've taken some time to hang with DATU B and DATU S at the Arnold Battle of Columbus where DATU S was scheduled to compete. Eh, well, there's always next year. Maybe I'll work up the courage to compete in forms.
ANIM
E was so happy to get back to our old stomping grounds. Well, most of them were our individual stomping grounds at different times before we knew each other, but that was part of the initial cool-ness of our relationship.
Sunday, March 07, 2004
This version of the Bible will renew your faith like no other.
Friday, March 05, 2004
I already completed this test before I got the Rum and Monkey email. I'll have one of their tests next week. But for now...
Oh, hell yes...
 You don't tolerate shit. The .45 you carry in you pocket is scary, but your words are the real threat, especially when you decide to get Biblical. Try to take it easy, but maintain that edge of yours, which tends to keep people wary in your presence. Take the What Pulp Fiction Character Are You? quiz. |
Oh, hell yes...
I received this email just moments ago from the folks at Rum and Monkey in response to the email I sent:
Eek!These folks have just moved up to #1 in my Coolness book!
I'm really sorry about that - the ad company have been informed, and
I'm
about to take down the ads until they can prove to me that it either
wasn't them or it won't happen again.
ITEM CTA
Re: SPEAKMAN's behavior that I recorded last time, DATU B (Yes, I've decided that from this point on, any reference to an officer of the club will be the title datu (chief) and a letter.) had this comment, made before he read any reference to it on my blog.
ITEM II
More BJJ techniques, and once again with a (different) serious partner! I've finally shaken the confusion behind applying paintbrushes, partly because I got to try it from different positions other than the mount. I learned another escape from the guard that I can add to my repertoire.
I learned another valuable lesson -- how ingrained it became for me to lock ankles when I have someone in the guard. It's just the way I had been trained prior to now. I never realized how easy I could be submitted from there.
Valuable Lesson #2 -- the art of the grind. I realize that it's a mostly illegal move, but hell. That's another thing about my previous training. I was never taught grinding.
ITEM III
I got to play with a serrada-length stick. Me likey serrada-length!
ITEM IV - LIVE AT CARNEGIE HALL
I still suck at Pekiti-Tirsia drills. It's made me respect knives more, though. I never considered myself a knife fighter, and I certainly was never one of those cocky tae kwon do "Oh, if someone attacks me with a knife, I can kick it out of their hands" people. But I thought if I couldn't evade, my "feeble skills" would be worth something.
Well, screw that. Pull a knife, and I'm running, probably while screaming like a girl. I wouldn't fancy my chances even if I had a weapon.
Eh, well... practice, practice, practice. And maybe inter-weaving leather cords into my wardrobe wouldn't be a bad idea either, what with everybody and his sister around this town walking around with tactical folders.
Re: SPEAKMAN's behavior that I recorded last time, DATU B (Yes, I've decided that from this point on, any reference to an officer of the club will be the title datu (chief) and a letter.) had this comment, made before he read any reference to it on my blog.
...I wanted to say, "The only time I need your help is if you're better than me, and you don't have your $hi+ together."And here, I thought it was just my observation, combined with my judgement which was clouded with frustration.
ITEM II
More BJJ techniques, and once again with a (different) serious partner! I've finally shaken the confusion behind applying paintbrushes, partly because I got to try it from different positions other than the mount. I learned another escape from the guard that I can add to my repertoire.
I learned another valuable lesson -- how ingrained it became for me to lock ankles when I have someone in the guard. It's just the way I had been trained prior to now. I never realized how easy I could be submitted from there.
Valuable Lesson #2 -- the art of the grind. I realize that it's a mostly illegal move, but hell. That's another thing about my previous training. I was never taught grinding.
ITEM III
I got to play with a serrada-length stick. Me likey serrada-length!
ITEM IV - LIVE AT CARNEGIE HALL
I still suck at Pekiti-Tirsia drills. It's made me respect knives more, though. I never considered myself a knife fighter, and I certainly was never one of those cocky tae kwon do "Oh, if someone attacks me with a knife, I can kick it out of their hands" people. But I thought if I couldn't evade, my "feeble skills" would be worth something.
Well, screw that. Pull a knife, and I'm running, probably while screaming like a girl. I wouldn't fancy my chances even if I had a weapon.
Eh, well... practice, practice, practice. And maybe inter-weaving leather cords into my wardrobe wouldn't be a bad idea either, what with everybody and his sister around this town walking around with tactical folders.
I wouldn't recommend taking any of the tests from Rum and Monkey unless you want some startpage worms on your computer. First time it happened last week, I wasn't sure, but I tried again this time with all my AV stuff active, and sho' nuff...
I sent them a message. I'm sure it'll be fixed.
I sent them a message. I'm sure it'll be fixed.
Wednesday, March 03, 2004
Where to start, where to start. Actually, a few hours before club, I ran into B (Still thinking of a nickname...) and since the weather was so nice, we took some time to train out in a field for a bit, after a detour to his house. The additional stick training was nice, although my arm was killing me by the end of club yesterday. The biggest plus was learning deflections to angles of attack that always seem to dumbfound me. I got to brush up on knife defense drills, too.
The first hour of last night was mostly devoted to Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu techniques. At last, my BJJ knowledge takes a step forward! Up until now, I knew a couple of takedowns, one way of escaping a mount, passing the guard, how to post and transition into a couple of easy submissions, and a few chokes. Now, I've got three of the five or six dominant positions down, a new way to escape a mount and a way to escape a cross-body.
Having a good partner helps, too. Although having a female partner (dunno how that happened) is always a tad bit awkward, everyone involved seemed cool with it. Actually, what was more awkward about my partner wasn't the gender factor. It was the limb she was nursing -- a bone injury she had surgery on a couple of years ago that I won't describe because even while I'm typing this, I'm getting the usual "broken bone heebie jeebies."
And, while on the subject of partners, Mr. SPEAKMAN was back and in rare form. I ended up inadvertently (I swear!) stepping on another of his toes during a drill. Hey, one time was an accident. Twice, and you were asking for it. Then, in another drill, a takedown, he was whining about how I was grabbing his wrist too hard. Now, while I don't expect anyone to "just suck it up" and risk serious injury while training, there's a difference between letting your partner know he's using excessive force and whining like a pu$$y.
Needless to say, I was a bit more active in trying to switch partners as often as I could, which wasn't easy. SPEAKMAN was in "hog-mode" again. Plus, he was hyper, too -- maybe his biorhythms were high that night, I don't know. He can never just work the f**king drill. He either needs to talk himself through it, or talk you through it. He can't just concentrate on the application of the technique.
The icing on the cake though was when he committed what, to me, is the unpardonable sin. B was coaching BILLY JACK (a new nick for a new character -- see below) through a technique that he was having trouble with. There was a moment where BILLY JACK was having trouble with hand positioning. So SPEAKMAN has the nerve to walk up in the thick of it to give his (unsolicited) help. I was beside myself. I stopped for a split second because I had to run a "systems check" through my senses, because I couldn't believe what I was seeing.
All I'm saying is that he better wear shoes the next time I work with him.
Which brings us to BILLY JACK -- yes, the "I'm gonna kick you right there, etc." character. He's not a bad guy. His heart's in the right place, and he generally works hard. His height and lankiness works against him sometimes, though. The best way to describe how he moves is like "an octopus playing the drums" (from Mystery Men).
What qualifies him for the title BILLY JACK is his propensity to resort to dirty fighting techniques when left to his own devices during various drills. And, I don't mean "martial arts" dirty tricks like shots to the groin or other "cheap shots." I'm talking hill billy tactics. Case in point, last night I was workin a takedown with him and his counter (because he's always thinking up counters) was "Hyuh hyuh (ok, maybe he just said "Huh huh")... if someone does that, I'll just bite him in the finger." Not that I'm criticizing. Heck, anything goes in a real fight. And, there's something to be said about having a comfortable set of, um... I guess you could call them "techniques"... to fall back back on. His are just funny.
I do have to say that I feel my brain approaching critical mass as far as the amount of information being thrown at me in short periods of time. I've resigned myself to the fact that I simply cannot absorb them all. Sometimes when a technique is demonstrated (pad drills, FMA, whatever), 2 or 3 variations and "what ifs" are presented. I basically just pick the one I'm most interested in working. But, I've observed something wierd -- it seems that most of the other students will often work on the last variation presented. In any case, I just trust that whatever techniques I don't immediately absorb will come up again and so long as I'm learning the general principles, chances are I can come up with a given technique in my own practice.
The first hour of last night was mostly devoted to Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu techniques. At last, my BJJ knowledge takes a step forward! Up until now, I knew a couple of takedowns, one way of escaping a mount, passing the guard, how to post and transition into a couple of easy submissions, and a few chokes. Now, I've got three of the five or six dominant positions down, a new way to escape a mount and a way to escape a cross-body.
Having a good partner helps, too. Although having a female partner (dunno how that happened) is always a tad bit awkward, everyone involved seemed cool with it. Actually, what was more awkward about my partner wasn't the gender factor. It was the limb she was nursing -- a bone injury she had surgery on a couple of years ago that I won't describe because even while I'm typing this, I'm getting the usual "broken bone heebie jeebies."
And, while on the subject of partners, Mr. SPEAKMAN was back and in rare form. I ended up inadvertently (I swear!) stepping on another of his toes during a drill. Hey, one time was an accident. Twice, and you were asking for it. Then, in another drill, a takedown, he was whining about how I was grabbing his wrist too hard. Now, while I don't expect anyone to "just suck it up" and risk serious injury while training, there's a difference between letting your partner know he's using excessive force and whining like a pu$$y.
Needless to say, I was a bit more active in trying to switch partners as often as I could, which wasn't easy. SPEAKMAN was in "hog-mode" again. Plus, he was hyper, too -- maybe his biorhythms were high that night, I don't know. He can never just work the f**king drill. He either needs to talk himself through it, or talk you through it. He can't just concentrate on the application of the technique.
The icing on the cake though was when he committed what, to me, is the unpardonable sin. B was coaching BILLY JACK (a new nick for a new character -- see below) through a technique that he was having trouble with. There was a moment where BILLY JACK was having trouble with hand positioning. So SPEAKMAN has the nerve to walk up in the thick of it to give his (unsolicited) help. I was beside myself. I stopped for a split second because I had to run a "systems check" through my senses, because I couldn't believe what I was seeing.
All I'm saying is that he better wear shoes the next time I work with him.
Which brings us to BILLY JACK -- yes, the "I'm gonna kick you right there, etc." character. He's not a bad guy. His heart's in the right place, and he generally works hard. His height and lankiness works against him sometimes, though. The best way to describe how he moves is like "an octopus playing the drums" (from Mystery Men).
What qualifies him for the title BILLY JACK is his propensity to resort to dirty fighting techniques when left to his own devices during various drills. And, I don't mean "martial arts" dirty tricks like shots to the groin or other "cheap shots." I'm talking hill billy tactics. Case in point, last night I was workin a takedown with him and his counter (because he's always thinking up counters) was "Hyuh hyuh (ok, maybe he just said "Huh huh")... if someone does that, I'll just bite him in the finger." Not that I'm criticizing. Heck, anything goes in a real fight. And, there's something to be said about having a comfortable set of, um... I guess you could call them "techniques"... to fall back back on. His are just funny.
I do have to say that I feel my brain approaching critical mass as far as the amount of information being thrown at me in short periods of time. I've resigned myself to the fact that I simply cannot absorb them all. Sometimes when a technique is demonstrated (pad drills, FMA, whatever), 2 or 3 variations and "what ifs" are presented. I basically just pick the one I'm most interested in working. But, I've observed something wierd -- it seems that most of the other students will often work on the last variation presented. In any case, I just trust that whatever techniques I don't immediately absorb will come up again and so long as I'm learning the general principles, chances are I can come up with a given technique in my own practice.
Luckily, I had the day off and Wednesdays are the days where E doesn't have to be anywhere until 2 PM, so she got to be pampered all sorts of ways this morning. It was nice and relaxing; one of those zen moments where time just slows down. By the time we had to get up and on with our days, we were surprised to find that it wasn't even noon.
In fact, that "slow-time warp" still seems to be going on right now, at least for me.
In fact, that "slow-time warp" still seems to be going on right now, at least for me.
Tuesday, March 02, 2004
Ok, some news stuff that I meant to comment on, but didn't have the copius spare time until today.
ITEM ONE
ITEM TWO
The Academy Awards -- didn't see it, didn't care to. Yes, I grant you that Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King deserved every award it won. But, this whole thing needs to be put into perspective. As if this country doesn't have more important things to worry about other than this or whether gay people can get married. Whether Bill and Fred have their marriage recognized, however I may feel about it morally, has no impact whatsoever on my ability to find a better job or start school sooner.
Robert Lamm wrote a song about the Oscars soon after 9/11.
Ah, priorities.
ITEM THREE
Haiti -- oh, Dubya, where do you draw that line?
ITEM ONE
UK 'spied on UN's Kofi Annan'Once again, the Brits are pulling the James Bond $hi+. Yet, oddly enough you don't hear about the US doing that sort of thing... because we don't, right?
British spies listened in to UN Secretary General Kofi Annan's office in the run up to the Iraq war, former UK cabinet minister Clare Short says.
ITEM TWO
The Academy Awards -- didn't see it, didn't care to. Yes, I grant you that Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King deserved every award it won. But, this whole thing needs to be put into perspective. As if this country doesn't have more important things to worry about other than this or whether gay people can get married. Whether Bill and Fred have their marriage recognized, however I may feel about it morally, has no impact whatsoever on my ability to find a better job or start school sooner.
Robert Lamm wrote a song about the Oscars soon after 9/11.
Light the lights
Another love fest
For the stars tonight, tonight
Cups of gold
And empty praise
We're fabulous tonight
No reward for getting out of bed
Teaching kids and making sure they're fed
Say a prayer for the common man
Come along into the promised land
Gimme gimme gimme gimme some award
Gimme money gimme something
Gimme someplace in your hall of fame
Gimme gimme gimme gold plated statues
Of an image I can pander to
Gimme gimme gimme gimme some award
Gimme money gimme something
Gimme someplace in your hall of fame
Gimme gimme gimme soundbites of freedom
My graffiti on the sands of time
Gimme Gimme by R. Lamm
Ah, priorities.
ITEM THREE
Haiti -- oh, Dubya, where do you draw that line?
Monday, March 01, 2004
I was replaying a move I learned a few weeks ago in my mind. It was a throw that you'd use to follow up after closing the distance. I recalled how the basics of the throw and how it was delivered were explained to me. Yesterday, it dawned on me that both the demonstration moves as well as the moves of the actual throw as it is practically applied were almost straight from the form Empi.
I keep telling myself I have to make a list of these, but for now, I'll just do that on here. I'll come back later and cull these entries and see what I can string together from them.
I keep telling myself I have to make a list of these, but for now, I'll just do that on here. I'll come back later and cull these entries and see what I can string together from them.
Saw two movies over the weekend with E.
State and Main by David Mamet made me realize that I have yet to see a single bad performance by William H. Macy. It made me sad that I avoided that made-for-TV thing he did for TNT -- I don't trust made-for-TV stuff. But, I should've trusted the actor. My plan for the summer is to watch anything and everything Macy's ever starred in.
Bowling for Columbine was fun. It made me question what the heck the big deal was about this movie. I admit I never followed up on all the news reports about just how many facts he may or may not have distorted. Then again, I look to Michael Moore for unbiased factual accuracy about as much as I look to Rush Limbaugh.
The movie did make me look at the whole gun issue from another point of view, though. What gives the U.S. of A. the highest rate of gun-related deaths? Our "gun culture"? Canada has a gun culture. Our national history of violence? Certainly not any more bloody than Great Britain or Germany. Our national poverty? Well, we're still by far the richest country in the world. So, what is it?
Granted, Michael Moore didn't have to harass Charleton Heston at his own home the way he did. (Although in my opinion, it seems like Chuck has overly identified with some of his characters, as if thinking, "Hey, I parted the Red Sea and told Dr. Zaius where to shove it. I can handle a pansy like Michael Moore!") But, being the propagandist he is, Moore couldn't resist the chance to simultaneously take a dig at a right-wing establishment while increasing awareness of yet another of the troubles of Flint, MI. Even if it seemed tangential to what appeared to be his main point that it could be the six-o'clock news spreading a culture of fear with its "If it bleeds, it leads" mentality.
If it is the "liberal media's" fault, then what are the right-wingers whining about?
State and Main by David Mamet made me realize that I have yet to see a single bad performance by William H. Macy. It made me sad that I avoided that made-for-TV thing he did for TNT -- I don't trust made-for-TV stuff. But, I should've trusted the actor. My plan for the summer is to watch anything and everything Macy's ever starred in.
Bowling for Columbine was fun. It made me question what the heck the big deal was about this movie. I admit I never followed up on all the news reports about just how many facts he may or may not have distorted. Then again, I look to Michael Moore for unbiased factual accuracy about as much as I look to Rush Limbaugh.
The movie did make me look at the whole gun issue from another point of view, though. What gives the U.S. of A. the highest rate of gun-related deaths? Our "gun culture"? Canada has a gun culture. Our national history of violence? Certainly not any more bloody than Great Britain or Germany. Our national poverty? Well, we're still by far the richest country in the world. So, what is it?
Granted, Michael Moore didn't have to harass Charleton Heston at his own home the way he did. (Although in my opinion, it seems like Chuck has overly identified with some of his characters, as if thinking, "Hey, I parted the Red Sea and told Dr. Zaius where to shove it. I can handle a pansy like Michael Moore!") But, being the propagandist he is, Moore couldn't resist the chance to simultaneously take a dig at a right-wing establishment while increasing awareness of yet another of the troubles of Flint, MI. Even if it seemed tangential to what appeared to be his main point that it could be the six-o'clock news spreading a culture of fear with its "If it bleeds, it leads" mentality.
If it is the "liberal media's" fault, then what are the right-wingers whining about?
These letters are written as part of the March Journal Collaboration Project for Rice Bowl Journals.
One
Dear L.
Don Henley wrote in the song My Thanksgiving
I regret not knowing anything about the state of your life right now. But, I know that even now that most of the pain is long since gone, and that everything I lost when I lost you I've regained tenfold, I couldn't stand that little twinge one gets when one sees an old flame, healthy and happy and knowing that that flame is so most likely because you're no longer there. Hypocritical? Yes.
It's not really a measure of anger or lack of forgiveness. We forgave each other ages ago. But, as I remember saying that day, any of the biopsychosocial discomfort it would take to (re-)establish any sort of relationship just wouldn't be worth it for me in the least.
Basically, I still don't want to know you or what you do. What I need to do is continue what I've been doing -- namely to calmly put away any thoughts of you that pop up in my mind. To accept that they'll pop up, and then to let them go.
That being said, I do hope you're happy and healthy. I just don't want to know about it.
-D.
Two
Dear S.
You, I miss. I don't understand why things turned out the way they did after all we shared so long ago, but that's the way things go, I guess. I've seen lately, as lately as this past month how what we shared continued to affect you until you put your closure to it. I'm writing this to do the same.
I know it's unlikely we'll ever reestablish any sort of friendship. Given our history, it's probably not a good idea to do so, especially since I have a (very) significant other. Over the years, I've reached about 99% acceptance of that. This letter is my last 1%. Still, I hope you are well. I also hope any ill feelings you have toward me have faded. I still think rather fondly of you.
Love,
-Me
One
Dear L.
Don Henley wrote in the song My Thanksgiving
Well, a lot of things have happenedThat's definitely been true in the year since I finally told you that I just couldn't have anything to do with you anymore. It was probably the single most selfish thing I had ever done, but it was also at the same time, the single biggest step I took toward reestablishing a healthier mental and emotional state.
Since the last time we spoke
Some of them are funny
Some of them ain't no joke
I regret not knowing anything about the state of your life right now. But, I know that even now that most of the pain is long since gone, and that everything I lost when I lost you I've regained tenfold, I couldn't stand that little twinge one gets when one sees an old flame, healthy and happy and knowing that that flame is so most likely because you're no longer there. Hypocritical? Yes.
It's not really a measure of anger or lack of forgiveness. We forgave each other ages ago. But, as I remember saying that day, any of the biopsychosocial discomfort it would take to (re-)establish any sort of relationship just wouldn't be worth it for me in the least.
Basically, I still don't want to know you or what you do. What I need to do is continue what I've been doing -- namely to calmly put away any thoughts of you that pop up in my mind. To accept that they'll pop up, and then to let them go.
That being said, I do hope you're happy and healthy. I just don't want to know about it.
-D.
Two
Dear S.
You, I miss. I don't understand why things turned out the way they did after all we shared so long ago, but that's the way things go, I guess. I've seen lately, as lately as this past month how what we shared continued to affect you until you put your closure to it. I'm writing this to do the same.
I know it's unlikely we'll ever reestablish any sort of friendship. Given our history, it's probably not a good idea to do so, especially since I have a (very) significant other. Over the years, I've reached about 99% acceptance of that. This letter is my last 1%. Still, I hope you are well. I also hope any ill feelings you have toward me have faded. I still think rather fondly of you.
Love,
-Me
Friday, February 27, 2004
Ok, ok... this is really the most accurate personality test EVER.
You're Ulysses!
by James Joyce
Most people are convinced that you don't make any sense, but compared
to what else you could say, what you're saying now makes tons of sense. What people do
understand about you is your vulgarity, which has convinced people that you are at once
brilliant and repugnant. Meanwhile you are content to wander around aimlessly, taking in
the sights and sounds of the city. What you see is vast, almost limitless, and brings you
additional fame. When no one is looking, you dream of being a Greek folk hero.
Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.
You're Ulysses!
by James Joyce
Most people are convinced that you don't make any sense, but compared
to what else you could say, what you're saying now makes tons of sense. What people do
understand about you is your vulgarity, which has convinced people that you are at once
brilliant and repugnant. Meanwhile you are content to wander around aimlessly, taking in
the sights and sounds of the city. What you see is vast, almost limitless, and brings you
additional fame. When no one is looking, you dream of being a Greek folk hero.
Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.
So, with my money problems cleared up (in a way), I could attend club last night. It was as intense a workout as I've had in awhile. I've had more excruciating, but my arms felt like lead after all the punching techniques we did.
Last session was basically a Bando seminar given by a guest instructor. This guy was the quintessential mix of humility and expertise. The way he moves reminds me very much of the head instructor of my old TKD club. And, he was funny, too, especially when it came to discussing the more practical applications of the techniques he was demonstrating. "Here's something you can do when you have your opponent against the ropes in the ring... or against the bar... or a wall, whatever." Or, "If he tries to run, you can try this move and that move... and for good measure, just punch him right in the face." My favorite was learning that elbow strikes, if thrown the right way, can actually serve to cut someone -- as in bleed.
No, check that. My favorite was the "tornado punch" -- basically a combo followed up by a quick spinning backfist. The instructor noted the amount of power I was generating with it. Of course, the power generation was easy. I performed the move enough times in the TKD form Do San. The footwork is from even more elementary forms, which is for me, the first three Pinan kata. It's funny just how much I've been able to connect between MMA moves and traditional moves. I should write a paper or something, although I'm sure it's already been written 100 times over.
The best part was a compliment I was payed on my technique. The instructor, who has about 10 pounds on me, said that if I were to connect with the spinning backfist, I'd probably knock him out. That's my favorite part of training. Not necessarily praise from people (even instructors) -- simply the acknowledgement that I learned what I was supposed to learn.
Last session was basically a Bando seminar given by a guest instructor. This guy was the quintessential mix of humility and expertise. The way he moves reminds me very much of the head instructor of my old TKD club. And, he was funny, too, especially when it came to discussing the more practical applications of the techniques he was demonstrating. "Here's something you can do when you have your opponent against the ropes in the ring... or against the bar... or a wall, whatever." Or, "If he tries to run, you can try this move and that move... and for good measure, just punch him right in the face." My favorite was learning that elbow strikes, if thrown the right way, can actually serve to cut someone -- as in bleed.
No, check that. My favorite was the "tornado punch" -- basically a combo followed up by a quick spinning backfist. The instructor noted the amount of power I was generating with it. Of course, the power generation was easy. I performed the move enough times in the TKD form Do San. The footwork is from even more elementary forms, which is for me, the first three Pinan kata. It's funny just how much I've been able to connect between MMA moves and traditional moves. I should write a paper or something, although I'm sure it's already been written 100 times over.
The best part was a compliment I was payed on my technique. The instructor, who has about 10 pounds on me, said that if I were to connect with the spinning backfist, I'd probably knock him out. That's my favorite part of training. Not necessarily praise from people (even instructors) -- simply the acknowledgement that I learned what I was supposed to learn.
Thursday, February 26, 2004
It's freakin' banks nowadays. There was some glitch with my account and I couldn't go to MMAC on Tuesday. But, it's all good now, so I'll get to go tonight. Maybe I should post a b!+ch slap to them.
My biggest gripe isn't necessarily the account glitch, as much as the fact that I can't afford the pittance being asked for this one vintage (it "out-Shaft's" Shaft's coat) leather coat that fits perfectly.
My biggest gripe isn't necessarily the account glitch, as much as the fact that I can't afford the pittance being asked for this one vintage (it "out-Shaft's" Shaft's coat) leather coat that fits perfectly.
I got told that a comment I made about his blog wasn't appreciated. I didn't mean it all like that, but I guess it could've been the ennui I was suffering from that day. Oh, well. I'll go on the record and say check out the blog. You can actually learn a thing or two.
Tuesday, February 24, 2004
Monday, February 23, 2004
Yankee or Dixie?All right! I guess I get to hang out with Ted Nugent, Tommy Shaw and that dude from Night Ranger, now.
47% (Yankee). Barely into the Yankee category.
Ed. note: I apologize if that was too obscure a reference for some of you.
E's torn miniscus is giving her problems again; it hit last night without warning, as usual. She gets so depressed over it, and I can't blame her. E struggles a lot to be active, especially through the busy-ness of her grad program, but at this point, even tai chi is giving her problems. I know it's not easy watching me staying trim and fit, doing all sorts of stuff, when all she wants to do is walk without fear of her knee giving out.
She's got an MRI scheduled for this Wednesday, thank goodness, and the docs will see where to go from there. She's got a tentative surgery scheduled for a few weeks from now during her spring break, but we'll see what happens.
If you're of the praying persuasion, and I know some (but not all) of you are, this'd be a good cause. As for the rest of you, I'm sure warm fuzzy thoughts would be appreciated, too.
She's got an MRI scheduled for this Wednesday, thank goodness, and the docs will see where to go from there. She's got a tentative surgery scheduled for a few weeks from now during her spring break, but we'll see what happens.
If you're of the praying persuasion, and I know some (but not all) of you are, this'd be a good cause. As for the rest of you, I'm sure warm fuzzy thoughts would be appreciated, too.
Slow weekend, slow week, slow life. So, I went and did something I haven't done in awhile, just crawled through random blogs off of Blogger's home page.
Let's see how long this new blog lasts: Bloggin For Your Noggin
Let's see how long this new blog lasts: Bloggin For Your Noggin
Friday, February 20, 2004
Quotes from Either President of the United States George W. Bush or Senator/Chancellor/Emperor Palpatine from the Star Wars MoviesTest your knowledge.
by Jason McGregor
Right on, baby!
what decade does your personality live in?
quiz brought to you by lady interference, ltd
what decade does your personality live in?
quiz brought to you by lady interference, ltd
Oooh, yeah... finally getting into some interesting techniques! Real useful stuff, like some of the simplest takedowns I've ever been taught. Not to mention cimande limb destructions. Although, I wonder how many feathers I'd ruffle if I mentioned just how many of those "time-wasting, useless, dead forms" I learned between tkd and kung-fu actually have similar movements. Eh, I've got enough troubles ;).
I felt bad that SPEAKMAN was not there yesterday. Hopefully, his toe is ok. Though, I have to say that it was nice working with many different partners, especially though the muay Thai drills. Cooperative partners trying to work the techniques as dictated by the style as opposed to trying to sneak in his own old style. Although, I have to say that once I was able to connect a particular cimande's movement with a movement right out of the songmookwan tkd/shotokan karate form bassai sho, things clicked for me.
I felt bad that SPEAKMAN was not there yesterday. Hopefully, his toe is ok. Though, I have to say that it was nice working with many different partners, especially though the muay Thai drills. Cooperative partners trying to work the techniques as dictated by the style as opposed to trying to sneak in his own old style. Although, I have to say that once I was able to connect a particular cimande's movement with a movement right out of the songmookwan tkd/shotokan karate form bassai sho, things clicked for me.
Wednesday, February 18, 2004
I claimed my first casualty last night. Well, my second if you count the fact that I shredded my own knuckles my second night of pad drills. I'm glad I took the advice to start wearing shoes to club. I stepped on a partner's big toe and bent part of his toenail back while doing pekiti-tirsia knife drills.
Y'know, I hate to say it, but he's -- let's give him a name, howabout SPEAKMAN (as in "Jeff") -- one of those guys who 1) is still too caught up in their original martial arts style and 2) always hogs me. Eh, maybe he'll think twice this Thursday. The problem was I was having a hard time coping with a #5 angle attack, and couldn't get it with SPEAKMAN. The funny thing was, after he got hurt and I switched partners, I was lucky enough to find a partner who immediately spotted what I was doing wrong.
I could rant more, but I have to go to work. Maybe more tomorrow.
Y'know, I hate to say it, but he's -- let's give him a name, howabout SPEAKMAN (as in "Jeff") -- one of those guys who 1) is still too caught up in their original martial arts style and 2) always hogs me. Eh, maybe he'll think twice this Thursday. The problem was I was having a hard time coping with a #5 angle attack, and couldn't get it with SPEAKMAN. The funny thing was, after he got hurt and I switched partners, I was lucky enough to find a partner who immediately spotted what I was doing wrong.
I could rant more, but I have to go to work. Maybe more tomorrow.
ITEM ONE
The song that's been inundating my thoughts since I first saw the movie Office Space last week -- Damn It Feels Good to Be a Gangster by the Geto Boys.
ITEM TWO
Valentine's Day: Had to work all day, but came home with a flower and a couple of lil' gifts for E and was greeted with a cornish hen dinner and the movie In the Mood For Love directed by Wong Kar Wai.
ITEM THREE
Saw a nice Japanese movie the other night, Shall We Dance. Who would've guessed Japanese (non-Anime) movies could be so funny?
ITEM FOUR
Sam Adam Cherry Wheat is now my second-favorite beer.
ITEM FIVE
One of the eternal truths I've learned in my three-decade existence is "You always become what you hate the most." In my case, I'm now suffering the effects of seeing too much of Jay and Silent Bob in such a short period of time.
The song that's been inundating my thoughts since I first saw the movie Office Space last week -- Damn It Feels Good to Be a Gangster by the Geto Boys.
Damn it feels good to be a gangsterHell, yeah!
A real gangster @$$ n**ga plays his cards right
A real gangster @$$ n**ga never runs his f**king mouth
'Cause real gangster @$$ n**gas don't start fights
ITEM TWO
Valentine's Day: Had to work all day, but came home with a flower and a couple of lil' gifts for E and was greeted with a cornish hen dinner and the movie In the Mood For Love directed by Wong Kar Wai.
ITEM THREE
Saw a nice Japanese movie the other night, Shall We Dance. Who would've guessed Japanese (non-Anime) movies could be so funny?
ITEM FOUR
Sam Adam Cherry Wheat is now my second-favorite beer.
ITEM FIVE
One of the eternal truths I've learned in my three-decade existence is "You always become what you hate the most." In my case, I'm now suffering the effects of seeing too much of Jay and Silent Bob in such a short period of time.
Friday, February 13, 2004
ITEM ONE
Hehe... yeah... heh heh... hm... heh heh heh... knife drills are cool...
ITEM TWO
Additions to my Non-Amazon Wish List
One 24"-26" iron pipe
One axe handleITEM THREE
Once again, I ask myself the age old training hall question, applicable regardless of art: You don't wanna kill the buzz of your fellow students who want to learn and seek out training partners who they feel will stretch them during training drills. At the same time, you wanna work on your own $hi+, and you try to work with them in return, but somehow they end up putting you back in teacher-mode. What do you do?
This'd be fine if I was back at my old TKD club -- it comes with the 1st gup. But at MMAC, I'm the equivalent of a white belt. The problem is that while there are other martial artists from other systems there, I'm the only one whose done FMA outside of club, even though it was relatively miniscule. I've learned more in the past 5 weeks than I have in the two years I dallied with Modern Arnis/Sinawali. As they say, "In the kingdom of the blind, the one-eyed man is king."
Hehe... yeah... heh heh... hm... heh heh heh... knife drills are cool...
ITEM TWO
Additions to my Non-Amazon Wish List
Once again, I ask myself the age old training hall question, applicable regardless of art: You don't wanna kill the buzz of your fellow students who want to learn and seek out training partners who they feel will stretch them during training drills. At the same time, you wanna work on your own $hi+, and you try to work with them in return, but somehow they end up putting you back in teacher-mode. What do you do?
This'd be fine if I was back at my old TKD club -- it comes with the 1st gup. But at MMAC, I'm the equivalent of a white belt. The problem is that while there are other martial artists from other systems there, I'm the only one whose done FMA outside of club, even though it was relatively miniscule. I've learned more in the past 5 weeks than I have in the two years I dallied with Modern Arnis/Sinawali. As they say, "In the kingdom of the blind, the one-eyed man is king."
Thursday, February 12, 2004
- A used laptop off of EBay for no more than $200, incl. shipping. Yes, my standards are pretty low. I'll take something as low as a Pentium II. I just want something functional that was made in this century (i.e. the 21st). My half-decade old machine, for as well as it's served me, is truly on its last legs.
- A new bo-staff to replace one that was stolen awhile back. I haven't practiced my kung fu staff forms in waaaaaay too long.
- A new Edges2 training knife (also stolen)
Anyone wanna help out? Just rustle up some o' your spare change and shove it over this way (via the PayPal donate link on your left there). You know, the stuff you had slated for "Feed the Children" or somesuch. Come on -- if you haven't sponsored a child by now, you know you're not going to. If I had just a nickel for every reader... well, I might have a whole quarter! I'm gonna (re-)start graduate school soon -- I need my mobility!
E would say that I need to be kinder to myself. I did, after all, slightly injure myself at work three days ago, twisting some ligament that connects the left thigh bone to the hip bone, I believe. What do I know? I'm not a doctor nor do I play one on TV. All I know is muay Thai drills didn't seem the thing to be doing. Heck, my 30-year-old @$$ is still feeling the after-effects of repeated takedown drills from two weeks ago.
So needless to say I didn't attend MMAC last Tuesday. Instead, I relaxed (sort of) at a coffee shop and was just about to get up and leave when they started the open mike poetry. Ah, yes, as you can imagine in a town such as Athens, OH you had just about one of every open mike poetry stereotype you know. The black-clad beatnik, head to toe. Only in traditional Athens-non-comformist style, her beret was a shade of deep purple. A couple of high-schoolers, one an "old pro" of sorts. You could tell she'd been here before, reciting tales of love with stylistic cliches. And I don't mean that to be harsh at all. Hell, she was up there reading -- props to her. She brought a friend, a nervous fellow up there for the first time. He sounded just as you'd expect for someone doing this for the first time.
All in all, some were good, some were bad. I admit to being far from qualified to give a deeper assessment. All I know is that while I certainly wouldn't go out of my way to avoid that again, I probably won't be rushing back there every Tuesday night. Hell, this time next week when I'm (hopefully) at Club again, I won't even remember the open-mike-night exists.
I suppose that makes me sound like a bit of a troglodyte choosing martial arts over poetry. But then again, martial arts are arts, too, right? I'm just pissed that I missed the knife fighting. I'll be there tonight and there'll be two straight hours of it, so that'll be cool.
So needless to say I didn't attend MMAC last Tuesday. Instead, I relaxed (sort of) at a coffee shop and was just about to get up and leave when they started the open mike poetry. Ah, yes, as you can imagine in a town such as Athens, OH you had just about one of every open mike poetry stereotype you know. The black-clad beatnik, head to toe. Only in traditional Athens-non-comformist style, her beret was a shade of deep purple. A couple of high-schoolers, one an "old pro" of sorts. You could tell she'd been here before, reciting tales of love with stylistic cliches. And I don't mean that to be harsh at all. Hell, she was up there reading -- props to her. She brought a friend, a nervous fellow up there for the first time. He sounded just as you'd expect for someone doing this for the first time.
All in all, some were good, some were bad. I admit to being far from qualified to give a deeper assessment. All I know is that while I certainly wouldn't go out of my way to avoid that again, I probably won't be rushing back there every Tuesday night. Hell, this time next week when I'm (hopefully) at Club again, I won't even remember the open-mike-night exists.
I suppose that makes me sound like a bit of a troglodyte choosing martial arts over poetry. But then again, martial arts are arts, too, right? I'm just pissed that I missed the knife fighting. I'll be there tonight and there'll be two straight hours of it, so that'll be cool.
Tuesday, February 10, 2004
This week has sort of turned into an unofficial Kevin Smith filmfest at our house. Between Saturday and last night we've seen Dogma, Chasing Amy, and Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back. For some reason, I enjoyed Strike Back waay more last night than I ever did. E felt the same way about Chasing Amy.
I'm guessing it was the company.
Next on the agenda: Mallrats.
I'm guessing it was the company.
Next on the agenda: Mallrats.
Monday, February 09, 2004
A gem from 1965 -- that's 39 years ago, for those of you who don't cotton ta none o' that fancy book learnin'.
Send The MarinesTom Lehrer: funny songwriter or prophet of Nostradamus-ian proportions?
words/music by Tom Lehrer
What with President Johnson practicing escalatio on the Vietnamese and then the Dominican crisis on top of that it has been a nervous year and people have begun to feel like a Christian scientist with appendicitis. Fortunately in times of crisis just like this America always has this number one instrument of diplomacy to fall back on. Here's a song about it.
When someone makes a move
Of which we don't approve,
Who is it that always intervenes?
U.N. and O.A.S.,
They have their place, I guess,
But first send the Marines!
We'll send them all we've got,
John Wayne and Randolph Scott,
Remember those exciting fighting scenes?
To the shores of Tripoli,
But not to Mississippoli,
What do we do? We send the Marines!
For might makes right,
And till they've seen the light,
They've got to be protected,
All their rights respected,
'Till somebody we like can be elected.
Members of the corps
All hate the thought of war,
They'd rather kill them off by peaceful means.
Stop calling it aggression,
O we hate that expression.
We only want the world to know
That we support the status quo.
They love us everywhere we go,
So when in doubt,
Send the Marines!
Sunday, February 08, 2004
Courtesy of site meter:
How on earth does someone get to this blog doing this?
| Referring URL | http://search.msn.co...%3d0%26pn%3d2%26&q=a
Search Engine: search.msn.com Search Words: a |
How on earth does someone get to this blog doing this?
Friday, February 06, 2004
Thursday, February 05, 2004
Schedule's full once again tomorrow, so here it is.
you are the "I hate you so bad" happy
bunny. You hate everyone and eveything and your
not ashamed of it.
which happy bunny are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
you are the "I hate you so bad" happy
bunny. You hate everyone and eveything and your
not ashamed of it.
which happy bunny are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
Tuesday, February 03, 2004
It's amazing how the dated views (c. 2001) of a comedian, in this case my favorite, Dennis Miller, can be relevant today. For instance...
I get cross-eyed with rage when I hear that there are thirty-five students in a third-grade inner-city public-school class sharing one textbook while the AV-squad jerkoffs at NASA have lost contact with yet another billion-dollar piece-of-shit Radio Shack transmitter that was supposed to land on the surface of Mars and broadcast back pictures that I could take in Barstow in July. Hey, NASA. The space race is over. We won. We know all about space. It's full of black holes that relentlessly suck in all matter around them. Kind of like what you do with our f**king money. There might be water on Mars? Call me when you find oil on Mars, okay?It's a nice warm feeling when someone else can eloquently crystallize your thoughts.
It's nice to know there are things in this world you can count on. For instance, I didn't watch the Super Bowl last weekend. I was working, and didn't care much in any case. But, I heard about "the incident" -- you know the one I mean -- and I wanted a picture.
Somehow, I just knew Mr. Ellis wouldn't let me down.
Somehow, I just knew Mr. Ellis wouldn't let me down.
Sunday, February 01, 2004
What's a guy to do when he spends an evening at home on a Friday night, surrounded by his girlfriend and three nubile Asian women from different exotic cultures, with dishes of fruits and cheeses, sipping fine beer and red wine?
Sit around and discuss the socio-historical-political-linguistic attitudes of Japan, Korea, China and the Philippines, of course. Get those fantasies based on Full Metal Jacket out of your mind.
One of the young ladies was describing her attitude toward her country of origin, Japan -- an attitude she felt was typical (with the usual caveats) of the young people of her generation. She basically said that although there are many elements of Japanese culture to be proud of, there just isn't (in her observations, anyway) that sense of nationalism and patriotism that she observes in the United States. She was sort of amazed to see flags flying all over the place -- US flags, state flags, and even in the deep south where she spent some time, "stars and bars."
Apparently, you don't see a lot of flag-waving in Japan. I didn't state it then, but I wondered how much of that is just the culture of modern-day Japan, and how much of that might have been the doing of post-WWII American policy for the region?
Things that make me go "hmmm..."
Sit around and discuss the socio-historical-political-linguistic attitudes of Japan, Korea, China and the Philippines, of course. Get those fantasies based on Full Metal Jacket out of your mind.
One of the young ladies was describing her attitude toward her country of origin, Japan -- an attitude she felt was typical (with the usual caveats) of the young people of her generation. She basically said that although there are many elements of Japanese culture to be proud of, there just isn't (in her observations, anyway) that sense of nationalism and patriotism that she observes in the United States. She was sort of amazed to see flags flying all over the place -- US flags, state flags, and even in the deep south where she spent some time, "stars and bars."
Apparently, you don't see a lot of flag-waving in Japan. I didn't state it then, but I wondered how much of that is just the culture of modern-day Japan, and how much of that might have been the doing of post-WWII American policy for the region?
Things that make me go "hmmm..."
Friday, January 30, 2004
There's something inherently liberating about deciding for a brief period of time, a day perhaps, to just be an absolute waste of space and precious O2. That's what I did today. I slept in late, idly practiced some kali and bit of kung-fu, listened to NPR in the late morning. Afterward, I left the house, checked out a bookstore that just moved locations, sat at a coffee-shop while leeching off their Wi-Fi connection all afternoon and now I'm about to head to a bar where there's (hopefully) some decent live jazz playing.
Thursday, January 29, 2004
Suicide 'could not be predicted'In a region of the world where "mysterious deaths" of controversial political figures has been going on for nigh over a millenium? In the same region that produced James Bond? My @$$.
No-one could have predicted Dr David Kelly might commit suicide, Lord Hutton has said in his report.
The judge said no-one else was involved in the death of the government scientist who was found dead in woods near his home.
Lord Hutton said he believed Dr Kelly had killed himself after being named as the suspected source of the BBC's controversial weapons dossier story.
Wednesday, January 28, 2004
Finally, after months of (sporadic) searching, I found an mp3 of the theme to Once Upon a Time in China in Cantonese. It's one of the final pieces to my workout mp3 playlist.
Tuesday, January 27, 2004
*Edited excerpts from my journal
*E's right about my rigid expectations about my time. My expectations for today were to get up, sip coffee and work on some things at a leisurely pace before work at 8 PM. In the middle of it all, I'd relocate to the coffee shop and soak up some atmosphere.I'm accustomed to bolting out of bed when I feel it's time (or when my alarm goes off, whichever comes last) and getting down to it. I wake up with some things on my mind that I have to act on, or at least write down, before I do anything else. Instead, I get stopped at every turn by something or other. It didn't take a full hour before my vision of the day had completely collapsed, and I had to come up with a way to adapt.
Unfortunately, it didn't work out that way.
*Adaptation isn't my problem. It's the inner resentment that develops, usually toward myself. That's got to end. After all, most of the time I "wasted" was spent taking care of E. Her knee acted up big time last night and it's still not right.I've never had trouble concocting a "Plan B" on the fly. The trouble is I turn into Winston Wolf from Pulp Fiction, who expressed this attitude:
If I'm curt with you, it's because time is a factor. I think fast, I talk fast, and I need you guys to act fast if you want to get out of this. So pretty please, with sugar on top, clean the fuckin' car.The bottom line is that I need to do two things: First, I need to return to practicing genuine solitude. Second, I need to be better and more ruthless about cutting out things that don't need done at a particular time. This is a problem for people with my brain style (read View From the Cliff) -- the feeling that if an idea isn't acted on immediately to the exclusion of all else, it'll be lost forever.
Monday, January 26, 2004
I've been toying around with a new personal mission statement for 2004 for the past 2 or 3 months now, and it's still not done. Sure, I've got lots of goals and am taking steps to securing them. But, I feel like I'm in a spot that I was in a few years ago -- lots of activity, but little direction.
I did come to one conclusion that's brought me a step closer to constructing one for this year. I overheard a group of young women at a coffee shop discussing their mission statement for some enterprise, some sort of publication if I gathered right. Now, this bit that I heard may or may not have been connected to their proposed mission, but someone read aloud something that contained the phrase "b@$tard love child." Then, it hit me. If it was part of their mission, then I realized that whatever I construct for this year has to not only be on my TERMS but in my LANGUAGE. That is, something reflective of the new ways -- and a few of the old ways -- I've been thinking and speaking as of late.
I did come to one conclusion that's brought me a step closer to constructing one for this year. I overheard a group of young women at a coffee shop discussing their mission statement for some enterprise, some sort of publication if I gathered right. Now, this bit that I heard may or may not have been connected to their proposed mission, but someone read aloud something that contained the phrase "b@$tard love child." Then, it hit me. If it was part of their mission, then I realized that whatever I construct for this year has to not only be on my TERMS but in my LANGUAGE. That is, something reflective of the new ways -- and a few of the old ways -- I've been thinking and speaking as of late.
Sometimes, I refer to E as "my Lil' Crusader." She has these "revolutionary" tendencies. She sees something that's not right, whether in her grad school department, on the street, or life in general, her first instinct is to do something to correct it. Sometimes, it gets her in some warm water. But, that doesn't even enter into the calculations for her. And at times, I'm jealous.
I can be such a tool of the system sometimes. Sure, I rail against it when it doesn't suit me. There have even been those rare occassions when I've used the little bit of "da juice" to try and fix things. But, in general, I'll sit and bite my tongue. And, I even go one step further sometimes -- I take the "flawed system," whatever it is, and find a way to manipulate it and play it to my advantage.
I find a disturbing resemblence between myself and the character of Avon from the cult sci-fi show Blake's 7. In the second episode of the series, called "Space Fall," three of the main characters debate their escape from a ship on its way to a penal colony.
I can be such a tool of the system sometimes. Sure, I rail against it when it doesn't suit me. There have even been those rare occassions when I've used the little bit of "da juice" to try and fix things. But, in general, I'll sit and bite my tongue. And, I even go one step further sometimes -- I take the "flawed system," whatever it is, and find a way to manipulate it and play it to my advantage.
I find a disturbing resemblence between myself and the character of Avon from the cult sci-fi show Blake's 7. In the second episode of the series, called "Space Fall," three of the main characters debate their escape from a ship on its way to a penal colony.
JENNAThat last part could easily be an exchange between me and my Lil' Crusader.
Back to Earth?
BLAKE
Yes. That's where the heart of the Federation is. I intend to see that heart torn out.
AVON
I thought you were probably insane.
BLAKE
That's possible! They butchered my family, my friends. They murdered my past and gave me tranquilized dreams.
JENNA
At least you're still alive.
BLAKE
No! Not until free men can think and speak. Not until power is back with the honest man.
AVON
Have you ever met an honest man?
JENNA [Glances at Blake]
Perhaps.
AVON
Listen to me. Wealth is the only reality. And the only way to obtain wealth is to take it away from somebody else. Wake up, Blake! You may not be tranquilized any longer, but you're still dreaming.
JENNA
Maybe some dreams are worth having.
AVON
You don't really believe that.
JENNA
No, but I'd like to.
BLAKE
Yes, well, you asked me what I was going to do and I've told you. What you do is up to yourselves.
AVON
Right. A new identity, a job in the Federation Banking System. Three months with their computers, I could lift a hundred million credits and nobody would know where they went. Then let anyone try and touch me.
BLAKE
And the rest?
AVON
Have the same chance as I have.
BLAKE
You don't really believe that.
Saturday, January 24, 2004
The Lost Journals of Doogie Howser, M.D.
by Pasha Maller and Mike Baker
I love the NPR show Car Talk. It's part of my Saturday morning ritual. The Car Talk Guys end their show the same way every week. "Click" says "Don't drive like my brother" while "Clack" advises "Don't drive like MY brother." They're brothers -- get it? Hey, I think it's brilliant -- screw you, you didn't think of it :).
Lately, I've come to enjoy the way they cut out for station ID breaks. Today's was pretty funny...
Lately, I've come to enjoy the way they cut out for station ID breaks. Today's was pretty funny...
And though Ira Glass prepares This American Resignation whenever he hears us say it... this is National Public Radio.My ultimate favorite has always been...
And even though the Dalai Lama flings a handful of prayer beads at us whenever he hears us say it... this is National Public Radio.Some gags just don't get old.
Friday, January 23, 2004
Yesterday, I obtained my first, aside from the balisongs that my parents brought back from the PI, combat-grade martial arts weapons - hardened, rattan kali sticks. Not that stuff that you order from Inside Kung Fu magazine or get at the local martial arts shop that splinters and shatters. We're talking the stuff that fended off Toledo steel and Japanese katanas.
I need to get in some martial arts movie this weekend. I'd really like to find Shaolin Soccer or 36th Chamber of Shaolin somewhere in this wretched town, but have so far been unable. At least, I need to rent The Hunted again, and despite what E says, I CAN use it as a training video :).
I need to get in some martial arts movie this weekend. I'd really like to find Shaolin Soccer or 36th Chamber of Shaolin somewhere in this wretched town, but have so far been unable. At least, I need to rent The Hunted again, and despite what E says, I CAN use it as a training video :).
Wednesday, January 21, 2004
Yes, five days with nary an entry. So, what have I been doing?
UNO
Well, E and I watched Bulletproof Monk a few days ago. She didn't go off about the grossly inaccurate portrayals of Tibetan monastics as much as I thought she might. Me, I just won't pass up any chance to see Chow Yun-Fat whip around in "two-fisted gun mode" even if for but a second.
OK, Yun-Fat, we know you can act in comedies and dramas. Anyone worth a damn knows you're far more than just some action star. Now, when am I gonna get to see you leap around and kill 20 people in one scene with glocks in both hands again?
DOS
I've seen evidence that my tolerance of idiocy and foolishness at work has greatly diminished. I've found myself showing righteous anger and contempt toward a couple of people who pissed me off last week.
The first is FLASH GORDON. A dim-witted sort. He's the kind of guy who likes to make little racially-slanted jokes -- the sort-of-innocent kind that might tempt you to laugh if the joke was funny. Unfortunately, his jokes never are and people (myself, a minority person, included) are in fact more put off and offended by his sheer stupidity than by any racial comment he makes.
Well, I tolerated all of that, and his slack-jawed troglodye nature that's so far inhibited him from doing his job effectively, until late last week when he proceeded to invade my personal space. I spoke to him in a private place where I fully intended to pummel his remaining IQ out of him, but instead reiterated rather forcefully that I didn't appreciate his antics.
According to the consensus, I should've just beat him with a crowbar.
The second "hall-of-famer" is THE RENNAISANCE MAN. (I don't know if I spelled that right -- I'll edit it later.) This person decides to interrupt my mental work groove by dinging me in the hand with one of those super-balls. Yes, harmless in and of itself. And, from anyone else (except for FLASH GORDON) I might've been able to laugh it off. But this guy wasn't even close to apologetic until I got loud, and finally told him to just "get the hell away from me."
RM here is one of those people who always has some kind of story about something he knows that you don't. Or, something he did that thinks will automatically garner him some respect. Sorry, RM -- get your positive ego strokes somewhere else like from PCP or something. Anyway, why the name? Apparently, he's generated so many stories that some have taken to generating an annotated list of them.
Oh, and the consensus as to how I should've reacted in this case? Same as the first -- a merciless beatdown.
TRES
Note to B -- the nickname's coming, I swear.
Speaking of Club, I can feel that my sorry-@$$ Filipino martial arts skills are already a light-year ahead of where I was. It's so totally worth every overpriced penny I'm paying for it! And, Thursday I get new kali sticks!
QUATRO
Yes, today I'm going to let a day's worth of posts on the mailing list I'm on just sliiiide by. No need for me to comment today. Well, at least until after work 10 hours from now.
UNO
Well, E and I watched Bulletproof Monk a few days ago. She didn't go off about the grossly inaccurate portrayals of Tibetan monastics as much as I thought she might. Me, I just won't pass up any chance to see Chow Yun-Fat whip around in "two-fisted gun mode" even if for but a second.
OK, Yun-Fat, we know you can act in comedies and dramas. Anyone worth a damn knows you're far more than just some action star. Now, when am I gonna get to see you leap around and kill 20 people in one scene with glocks in both hands again?
DOS
I've seen evidence that my tolerance of idiocy and foolishness at work has greatly diminished. I've found myself showing righteous anger and contempt toward a couple of people who pissed me off last week.
The first is FLASH GORDON. A dim-witted sort. He's the kind of guy who likes to make little racially-slanted jokes -- the sort-of-innocent kind that might tempt you to laugh if the joke was funny. Unfortunately, his jokes never are and people (myself, a minority person, included) are in fact more put off and offended by his sheer stupidity than by any racial comment he makes.
Well, I tolerated all of that, and his slack-jawed troglodye nature that's so far inhibited him from doing his job effectively, until late last week when he proceeded to invade my personal space. I spoke to him in a private place where I fully intended to pummel his remaining IQ out of him, but instead reiterated rather forcefully that I didn't appreciate his antics.
According to the consensus, I should've just beat him with a crowbar.
The second "hall-of-famer" is THE RENNAISANCE MAN. (I don't know if I spelled that right -- I'll edit it later.) This person decides to interrupt my mental work groove by dinging me in the hand with one of those super-balls. Yes, harmless in and of itself. And, from anyone else (except for FLASH GORDON) I might've been able to laugh it off. But this guy wasn't even close to apologetic until I got loud, and finally told him to just "get the hell away from me."
RM here is one of those people who always has some kind of story about something he knows that you don't. Or, something he did that thinks will automatically garner him some respect. Sorry, RM -- get your positive ego strokes somewhere else like from PCP or something. Anyway, why the name? Apparently, he's generated so many stories that some have taken to generating an annotated list of them.
Oh, and the consensus as to how I should've reacted in this case? Same as the first -- a merciless beatdown.
TRES
Note to B -- the nickname's coming, I swear.
Speaking of Club, I can feel that my sorry-@$$ Filipino martial arts skills are already a light-year ahead of where I was. It's so totally worth every overpriced penny I'm paying for it! And, Thursday I get new kali sticks!
QUATRO
Yes, today I'm going to let a day's worth of posts on the mailing list I'm on just sliiiide by. No need for me to comment today. Well, at least until after work 10 hours from now.
When I'm more awake and I feel like it, I'll change the book listing in the sidebar. Until then, know that I'm 4 chapters into Fast Food Nation: The Dark Side of the All-American Meal by Eric Schlosser. I expected to be suprised, but not disturbed.
Unlike most of the people I know who've read this book, I'm not swearing off any Happy Meals just yet. Yes, I'm a tool of the psychologically-marketed, chemically-enhanced, economically-vampiric, uniformly-mass-produced system.
Unlike most of the people I know who've read this book, I'm not swearing off any Happy Meals just yet. Yes, I'm a tool of the psychologically-marketed, chemically-enhanced, economically-vampiric, uniformly-mass-produced system.
Friday, January 16, 2004
ITEM ONE
I've been rather involved lately with responding to posts from a LRP mailing list I'm on. I almost forgot how the thrill of intellectual battle can be as good as from physical combat.
ITEM TWO
Looks like I've garnered at least one more reader here. Blogger has tutorials on What to do if your Mom discovers your blog and How Not to Get Fired Because of Your Blog. They need to include a tutorial on "How to Avoid Serious Injury In Case Someone From Your Martial Arts Club Discovers Your Blog" -- you know, just in case.
Message to B: Don't worry -- you'll get your nickname soon enough.
ITEM THREE
I put a question on a ricebowljournals.com forum about handwraps - how essential were they when doing a lot of punching and hand work. Up until then (last Thursday), between my previous martial arts experience and the club sessions I've attended before, I never felt the need.
Wouldn't you know that the night I attended Club after posting my question, two of the knuckles on my left hand get shredded? Story of my life, huh?
More later. I gotta go. But, one last thing (see above).
I've been rather involved lately with responding to posts from a LRP mailing list I'm on. I almost forgot how the thrill of intellectual battle can be as good as from physical combat.
ITEM TWO
Looks like I've garnered at least one more reader here. Blogger has tutorials on What to do if your Mom discovers your blog and How Not to Get Fired Because of Your Blog. They need to include a tutorial on "How to Avoid Serious Injury In Case Someone From Your Martial Arts Club Discovers Your Blog" -- you know, just in case.
Message to B: Don't worry -- you'll get your nickname soon enough.
ITEM THREE
I put a question on a ricebowljournals.com forum about handwraps - how essential were they when doing a lot of punching and hand work. Up until then (last Thursday), between my previous martial arts experience and the club sessions I've attended before, I never felt the need.
Wouldn't you know that the night I attended Club after posting my question, two of the knuckles on my left hand get shredded? Story of my life, huh?
More later. I gotta go. But, one last thing (see above).
Wednesday, January 14, 2004
Quick post about some MMAC cast member updates:
ONE-ARMED BANDIT isn't a complete b@$tard after all. It turns out he'd actually like to be shown a couple of my kung-fu long forms. He also indicated that he knew some "pine tree cell" forms (whether from Song Moo Kwan TKD or Shotokan, I don't know); I'm always curious to see people from other schools do these forms.
TRENCHCOAT MAFIOSO isn't a complete b@$tard either. Once I decided to step out and interact with him while disregarding his previous b@$tard-ness, I discovered a rather personable individual.
More tomorrow, maybe.
ONE-ARMED BANDIT isn't a complete b@$tard after all. It turns out he'd actually like to be shown a couple of my kung-fu long forms. He also indicated that he knew some "pine tree cell" forms (whether from Song Moo Kwan TKD or Shotokan, I don't know); I'm always curious to see people from other schools do these forms.
TRENCHCOAT MAFIOSO isn't a complete b@$tard either. Once I decided to step out and interact with him while disregarding his previous b@$tard-ness, I discovered a rather personable individual.
More tomorrow, maybe.
Tuesday, January 13, 2004
"Confidential to T-Mobile: NASA is downloading 36 MB TIFFs from Mars and I only get 2 bars of signal on my cell phone inside my house. Please look into upgrading."
from diepunyhumans.com
Regardless of provider, or whether it's cell service or TV reception, nowhere is this more true than in the fine town of Athens, OH.
Yes, there have been a lot of these posts lately, haven't there?
I finally got my hands on the Kama Sutra of metroeroticism, The Metrosexual Guide to Style: A Handbook for the Modern Man by Michael Flocker. It's sort of interesting seeing how much of this stuff I've known almost since birth, and how much I am totally clueless about.
I thought it would be fun to see how I stack up to some of the various lists of standards scattered about the book. For instance, on page 86, we have "Ten Wardrobe Must-Haves." The items in bold are the ones I lack.
I finally got my hands on the Kama Sutra of metroeroticism, The Metrosexual Guide to Style: A Handbook for the Modern Man by Michael Flocker. It's sort of interesting seeing how much of this stuff I've known almost since birth, and how much I am totally clueless about.
I thought it would be fun to see how I stack up to some of the various lists of standards scattered about the book. For instance, on page 86, we have "Ten Wardrobe Must-Haves." The items in bold are the ones I lack.
- Three black T-shirts, three new white T-shirts
I got more black tees than you can shake a stick at. I have a fair amount of white tees, fairly new, but if "pocket Ts" don't count, as the book states, I need a couple more white ones.
- Two different pairs of flattering jeans
Check.
- One dark suit
$400 charcoal gray from Brooks Brothers.
- One leather or suede short coat (not a bomber jacket)
I'm a child of the 80s/90s -- I got a bomber jacket, sue me.
- Two rollneck or crewneck cable-knit sweaters
Check.
- Two pairs of dark, straight-leg, nonpleated pants
All my pants are pleated -- damn, damn damn.
- Three well-cut, solid-color, button-down shirts (one white)
I technically have them -- they may need to be cut a little better though, because I got them 5 years and 25 pounds ago.
- Quality sunglasses
Both prescription, look good, and cost INXS of $200 USD each.
- One expensive watch, one sports watch
Check.
- Flattering underwear
Unfortuneately, most of my underwear was from that "one score and 5 pounds ago" era.
Sunday, January 11, 2004
E and I are visiting friends in Columbus. A fun evening was had by all, but for the first time in a long time, the gallons (not really) of coffee I consumed left me a total insomniac. And, also for the first time in a long time, I've had immediate access to the internet to enable me to b!+ch about it. I'm dead serious here, it's 5:30 AM and I'm completely awake. I got a two-hour drive and an eight-hour work day ahead of me tomorrow
What to do, what to do...
What to do, what to do...
Saturday, January 10, 2004
So, I go in for another round of punishment on Thursday night. For the first hour, I got off my cowardly @$$ and dove straight in to the group doing the muay Thai pad drills. My most gruesome day ever in tae kwon do class was nothing compared to this. The typical TKD class will also have you run drills gradually increasing the number of techniques in a single drill. I think I've only done, at most, three or four techniques in a single TKD drill. Thursday night, I was doing between three and seven techniques per drill. God, I felt like a yellow belt all over again. Once again, I felt that way you get when you push your body a single step too far, that nauseous feeling in your gut as your body cries out to stop.
I loved every second of it.
In the second hour, I got in some more kali. Unfortunately, being the sole minority in the room (and the only Filipino doing the Filipino martial arts work), I've got a pretty high visibility level over there. People, especially the instructors, noticed that I didn't take the advice fromt he first session, namely to try the Filipino kali during one of the sessions this week, and the next session to try a lesson in Western (Irish) stick fighting offered simultaneously at the other session.
Hey, screw that. I chose to celebrate my cultural heritage.
I'm meeting some very interesting people from the spectrum of university life at the MMA Club. In the tradition of some of the fiction I've been reading lately, as well as some blogs I frequent, I'm going to start assembling a rough cast list.* Here are a few to start with:
*Ed. note: If anyone from the MMAC stumbles across this blog, and may potentially be offended by anything written here, I apologize in advance. The names I generate are to protect our mutual anonymity, and the opinions expressed are my own, so if you don't like them (and if you're not one of the instructors), well we can settle our differences the old fashioned way after any club session you want ;)
I loved every second of it.
In the second hour, I got in some more kali. Unfortunately, being the sole minority in the room (and the only Filipino doing the Filipino martial arts work), I've got a pretty high visibility level over there. People, especially the instructors, noticed that I didn't take the advice fromt he first session, namely to try the Filipino kali during one of the sessions this week, and the next session to try a lesson in Western (Irish) stick fighting offered simultaneously at the other session.
Hey, screw that. I chose to celebrate my cultural heritage.
I'm meeting some very interesting people from the spectrum of university life at the MMA Club. In the tradition of some of the fiction I've been reading lately, as well as some blogs I frequent, I'm going to start assembling a rough cast list.* Here are a few to start with:
*Ed. note: If anyone from the MMAC stumbles across this blog, and may potentially be offended by anything written here, I apologize in advance. The names I generate are to protect our mutual anonymity, and the opinions expressed are my own, so if you don't like them (and if you're not one of the instructors), well we can settle our differences the old fashioned way after any club session you want ;)
TRENCHCOAT MAFIOSO - This is a guy I recognize from frequenting a certain coffee shop in town. He appears to be a student, and always wears a rather nice, long tan trenchcoat with a button or two on the lapels of a liberal nature. He seems to be a decent fighter - I watched him spar with someone after class.
But, he ticked me off Thursday night while we were doing kali hand-sensitivity drills (to increase one's reaction-time in close quarter hand-to-hand situations). We were rotating partners, and while some were pleased at my speed and upped their game accordingly, this person twice requested that I slow down. Slow down?? F**k that -- I'm there to freakin' train. Hey, I got smacked myself by people going faster than me a couple of times. I don't have time for no pansy ass weekend warrior. Come to train, or don't freakin' come at all.... damn, I gotta calm down. Sorry, TM -- you know I still love you.
GANGSTA OF NEW YORK - This is the main instructor of the Irish stick-fighting method, as seen in the movie Gangs of New York. He's a nice enough guy, very outgoing, very skilled. I get this wierd vibe off of him, though, as if he's disappointed or something that I haven't tried his system yet. Eh, don't worry, I'll get to it.
ISSHIN - Freshman lady, a 1st dan in Isshyin Ryu (sp?) karate. She was my partner for the majority of the Filipino drills. I saw her practicing a couple of her kata. I wouldn't wanna go hand to hand with her. But, her weapon work needs, well, work. So far, though, she's been the only partner that it's been a pleasure to work with so far. Aside from instructors, my other partners, male and female, fall into one of two catagories: total newbies who really don't yet know what they're doing and people who've been training for a relatively short period of time who think they know what they're doing whose techniques are so sloppy that it ticks me off.
ONE-ARMED BANDIT - Named because he recently broke his arm and has been attending club in a cast. Nice guy, seasoned martial artist, heart is 100% in the right place, but damned if he doesn't come off at times like some slack-jawed troglydyte. (Heh... gee, now why might anyone potentially be offended by what I write here, huh?) Why do I say that? Well, when I saw ISSHIN practice some of her kata, it inspired me to try and recall some of my kung fu forms. ONE-ARMED BANDIT saw this, and inquired:
OAB: Hey, cool, what is that?
ME: Kung fu... shippalgi. It's a Korean style
OAB: I've never heard of it... is it something you rent, or something?
ME: [feigned puzzled look on my face, because I knew where he was going with it] Huh?
OAB: Like, on a video or something
ME: [with a "wtf, you b@$tard" look on my face] Umm, no, I'm a brown sash...
OAB: [slightly embarassed and apologetic]: Ohh, ohh... hey, cool...
Now I know how most of those fights you see in 70s kung fu movies get started.
Thursday, January 08, 2004
I'm going to burn for posting this... I know I am. But what the heck?
A Message from Pat Robertson and the "Vote No on Jesus" Campaign
by Nathan McIntire
Well, the Mixed Martial Arts club has started up again, and last Tuesday I got my first lesson in muay Thai basics! I also got some more kali in, and learned the first five angles of the Inosanto system.
Dan Inosanto... the most famous martial artist you've probably never heard of. Everyone's heard of Bruce Lee, but most don't know about Mr. Inosanto, Bruce's #1 student/teacher.
Anyway, I might go in for another round tonight! I gotta get my fighting skills back up. I've been inspired by all the videos E and I have been watching lately, namely:
Dan Inosanto... the most famous martial artist you've probably never heard of. Everyone's heard of Bruce Lee, but most don't know about Mr. Inosanto, Bruce's #1 student/teacher.
Anyway, I might go in for another round tonight! I gotta get my fighting skills back up. I've been inspired by all the videos E and I have been watching lately, namely:
- Drunken Master - if my brain could handle another martial arts system, you're damned right I'd learn drunken boxing.
- The Legend of Drunken Master - Jackie's no Yuen Wo-Ping, but he gets the job done.
- The first 8 episodes of Dragonball GT
- 4 random episodes of Dragonball
- Once Upon a Time in China III
Tuesday, January 06, 2004
I've included a link into each post to enable you, the instant gratification reader, to vote for my site on ricebowljournals.com. So don't playa hate, congratulate!
I was at the laundromat last night for a couple of hours and left without realizing that I had left my day planner. It didn't even occur to me until well over three hours later when I found that I couldn't sleep at 1:30 AM. Poor E... she couldn't sleep as it was, and had to be up early, but on top of that, she (like me) is really sensitive to her partner's moods. I tried being as quiet as I could as I swore up and down, tossing things about trying to find it, then realizing what I did.
I even drove out (it's all of 3 minutes away) to see if it was where I thought I may have left it, but it wasn't. I saw what time they opened up, and was there, disheveled, at 8 AM. Thank God it was still there. I thought for sure some scandalous mother had jacked it.
Now you're probably thinking, "What's the big deal? You left your planner, so what?" Well, you have to realize that I'm one of those planner-junkies, that anal retentive breed that has every piece of information (within reason) organized, dated, coded and set in that single place.
Man, I was in a bad space last night. But this morning, I got better.
I even drove out (it's all of 3 minutes away) to see if it was where I thought I may have left it, but it wasn't. I saw what time they opened up, and was there, disheveled, at 8 AM. Thank God it was still there. I thought for sure some scandalous mother had jacked it.
Now you're probably thinking, "What's the big deal? You left your planner, so what?" Well, you have to realize that I'm one of those planner-junkies, that anal retentive breed that has every piece of information (within reason) organized, dated, coded and set in that single place.
Man, I was in a bad space last night. But this morning, I got better.
Monday, January 05, 2004
I never ever thought I'd see the day when I'd get E to stay up through an episode of any anime. I tried, when we first met, to get her to watch some of my favorites on the Cartoon Network's Adult Swim lineup: InuYasha, Cowboy Bebop, Lupin III, etc. It never occurred to me to show her any episode of Dragonball Z.
Well, at the local video store, they had the first two tapes of the series Dragonball GT, and I wanted to check them out. They kind of piqued E's interest, so I told her about random bits about both Dragonball Z and Dragonball.
I thought she'd definitely like Dragonball, and they had a tape at the video store, so I picked one of those up. She may not admit it, but I think she's hooked! I almost forgot how much I liked Dragonball myself. It strikes me as very kid friendly, even with the martial arts violence in it. One of these days, I'm going to get that in order to have it to show to my kids.
Well, at the local video store, they had the first two tapes of the series Dragonball GT, and I wanted to check them out. They kind of piqued E's interest, so I told her about random bits about both Dragonball Z and Dragonball.
I thought she'd definitely like Dragonball, and they had a tape at the video store, so I picked one of those up. She may not admit it, but I think she's hooked! I almost forgot how much I liked Dragonball myself. It strikes me as very kid friendly, even with the martial arts violence in it. One of these days, I'm going to get that in order to have it to show to my kids.
Friday, January 02, 2004
I rang in the New Year at a bobo $75-a-head fund-raiser for a local arts center with bobo people. E and I were to be volunteers at the complimentary beer/wine bar, but our services weren't really needed so we were told to go and have fun! There were lots of food, fun, alcohol and dancing to be had.
E and I got to go thanks to two people who have basically become our "sponsors" down here in A-town. EK and SK are a really great couple with great kids. Bobos to the core, whether they realize it or not. Conservative, modestly wealthy with artistic bents, S has a band (which played the event) and E headed the committee that put the shindig together.
We met all sorts of interesting people, not the least of which was EK's sister. I found her interesting because she's, by some estimations (not necessarily my own, though) typical of someone of my age range/generation. Damn, am I old enough to start "talkin' 'bout my gennnnneration"? Anyway, from what I gathered, R_ (I never got her last name) is a year younger than E, divorced, without a bachelor's degree, with some small business of her own that she left in the care of her sister's family while completing boot camp to enlist in the Army Reserves. No love of her life yet, but she's still looking. R, I think, reminded E of where she used to be before she took the time to do something radical in her life to find what she was looking for. It was interesting, but not surprising that R was listening to our (E's and my) story with rapt attention.
I mention all of this to illustrate something, mostly to myself. It took a couple of months, and while it still has every chance of going south, my life plan is going along at a nice clip. I'm finally at a point where I can put away some of my meager pittance in the bank. Hopefully, I'll be enrolled at OU in the next month. And, I'm finally taking all the mental notes I've made about the success and failures of my various interpersonal relationships and putting them to good use. I'm surrounded by a cozy web of people who have the same attitudes as I do, and attributes I'd love to emulate. I'm also getting back in touch with personal attributes I once thought had been lost to me.
Seeing these things helped me realize that there are a few things I need to accept about myself in 2004:
Oh, BTW, see The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King!! E and I saw it last night. It's easily the best movie I've seen in quite a while.
E and I got to go thanks to two people who have basically become our "sponsors" down here in A-town. EK and SK are a really great couple with great kids. Bobos to the core, whether they realize it or not. Conservative, modestly wealthy with artistic bents, S has a band (which played the event) and E headed the committee that put the shindig together.
We met all sorts of interesting people, not the least of which was EK's sister. I found her interesting because she's, by some estimations (not necessarily my own, though) typical of someone of my age range/generation. Damn, am I old enough to start "talkin' 'bout my gennnnneration"? Anyway, from what I gathered, R_ (I never got her last name) is a year younger than E, divorced, without a bachelor's degree, with some small business of her own that she left in the care of her sister's family while completing boot camp to enlist in the Army Reserves. No love of her life yet, but she's still looking. R, I think, reminded E of where she used to be before she took the time to do something radical in her life to find what she was looking for. It was interesting, but not surprising that R was listening to our (E's and my) story with rapt attention.
I mention all of this to illustrate something, mostly to myself. It took a couple of months, and while it still has every chance of going south, my life plan is going along at a nice clip. I'm finally at a point where I can put away some of my meager pittance in the bank. Hopefully, I'll be enrolled at OU in the next month. And, I'm finally taking all the mental notes I've made about the success and failures of my various interpersonal relationships and putting them to good use. I'm surrounded by a cozy web of people who have the same attitudes as I do, and attributes I'd love to emulate. I'm also getting back in touch with personal attributes I once thought had been lost to me.
Seeing these things helped me realize that there are a few things I need to accept about myself in 2004:
- I need to chill about certain things, hold some of my beliefs, "oughts," and "shoulds" a bit less tightly.
- I need to be OK with being 30 and still learning things that a lot of 25-year-olds already seem to know.
- People can and do like me, and in a slightly more-than-superficial way! I can and should, like anyone else, use this to my emotional, intellectual, spiritual, and even physical benefit.
- I still have problems. They no longer define me, but they are a part of me. They are real and need solved.
- I need to (re-)discover the exact place of the spiritual component of my life.
Oh, BTW, see The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King!! E and I saw it last night. It's easily the best movie I've seen in quite a while.
You are Spearmint.
You are quick-witted and sharp. You pay close
attention to details and you can tell what your
friends are feeling. You are always the first
to understand a joke and you are valued for
your insight and advice. However, you
sometimes isolate yourself from other people,
afraid to share your own feelings.
Most Compatible With: Cinnamon
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