nemo nisi amicitiam cogniscitur
i found out today that one of my great friends from work is leaving the country, heading south to brazil for a few months. he leaves in a few days. this is after another of my friends traversed to new york for a while, and before that, another to kazakhstan for a year.
there are so many new faces that sometimes i can't keep up, but it's the nature of the beast, i guess, to find that once you're comfortable, you realize you really can't be.
sigh. he'll be missed.
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my most recent adventure with g-glo was sf pride 2006, which was full of great debauchery and free swag. i met some of her friends -- it was a weird kind of vibe since we were on such the same wavelengths. gives me a better sense of who gina really likes to hang out with.
did i mention that we saw twelve naked people? on top of the drag queens, shirtless bois and boobs just hanging out (not to mention the one guy who was in a horse costume), the place as crackling with an energy i hadn't seen before at pride. it was huge; it occupied not only civic center but about six surrounding blocks. and within these blocks, did i mention the nakedness?
i signed up to volunteer as a dog walker, petitioned for equal human rights and marriage equality, and watched a great gathering of people celebrate love for what it is: blind, unconditional, and happy.
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one of the best feelings is when one of your friends calls you up from nowhere and asks how you've been doing lately.
it makes me smile that i can do that to someone else.
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placing yourself in different contexts effectively makes you, it forces you, really, to adapt. however uncomfortable or unsure, in the end, you end up mostly unscathed.
whether in the context of a workplace or with friends, in a relationship or by yourself, or in any other smattering of time and space that one may consider, adaptability is the forte of the human spirit. you adapt to change by coping, by denying, by abusing, by being curious and by being stubborn. adapting is getting to know your environments, your people. adapting is eventually finding what it is you like doing and specializing. adapting, to be concise, is living.
whatever it is life throws at you, you adapt. it's that simple.
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simple pleasures for simple people: walking down the street after a long day at work, feeling a cool breeze and enjoying some crispy potato puffs and a sparkling orange beverage, watching the sun paint the town marvelous colors.
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in the shower today i was singing, and it made me feel good.
not many things have that ability, that innate capacity to make you feel better by virtue of their happening. singing made me miss singing. sleep makes me realize just how important it really is. and the joy, the pleasure i have in the simple act of eating -- there's an ineffable quality in the simple things. simple things are your best friends because they're always there, and they're always going to be there in the same manner.
it's why sometimes you go for the fries and the burger instead of the salad and the whole grains, why chocolate rarely has bad memories, why seeing bubbles make you smile.
that ineffable simplicity is wonderfully intangible and ephemeral.
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i wish i had a friend like charlie rose. imagine the drunk stories he would tell.
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"let's" is such a good word. it's a happy word. it's a word that allows, that portends something that people can do together.
"let's."
in flagrante delicto
i got home after work on saturday pretty late; i was in bed by 3, but that was after taking a quick shower.
and yes, 3 in the morning. i got up at 11.30 to cursorily greet toby and sawako, but i went back to sleep because i was so tired. i didn't wake up until around 5, in which case the sun had already started to head west. i spent all day lazing about and feeling a little useless.
it's times like these that i really appreciate garfield and friends.
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now that i don't have cable, i try and make it a point to go somewhere that shows the world cup games. or at least, religiously refresh my espn page at home.
the weekends are the best, since abc actually cares enough to show the games. and when you grow up playing football, it kinda sticks with you.
BRASIL!
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when you're straddling so many different lines, it's hard to keep up with the world because you're so busy trying to balance yourself, what with one thing wanting you to change and another pulling you to become stagnant; another puzzling you with affections and another forcing you out of habit.
i don't shun. and if you think i do, let me know. i'll prove it otherwise.
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there is, for lack of better terms, an absence of momentum. in fact there's an absence of order altogether; it seems as if everyone in my life is dealing with a terrific disarray of all things considered, from accidents to losses to work-induced tiredness. from dogs to cars, from food to computers, everyone's still on edge, and the momentum is nowhere to be found.
it seems as if this was all happening two weeks ago, and it's still happening. there's no shift from more to less since it's constant.
and it hurts. to see lives around me change is insane, since i myself seel so punctuated.
have i been caught red-handed being complacent?
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there is only one way to go, and that's up.
there is only one way to go, and that's up.
there is only one way to go, and that's up.
there is only one way to go, and that's up.
there is only one way to go, and that's up.
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some days, i feel as if i don't feel enough.
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i realized today that friends are by far the best measure of your character.
i love my friends.
dum vita est, spes est
mikhail baryshnikov is a cool dude.
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i was listening to some music while i was cleaning my room the other day, and a line from one of the songs struck me so hard i had to sit down and rethink it for a while, and accept that it was true.
"i realize that i just don't love you
not like i used to"
and then a big smile decided to appear on my face, staying there until i finished cleaning, leaving me with a good satisfaction that thank fucking god, i'm over it.
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we were just hanging out one day when we heard about two of our good friends involved in a car accident. it was nerve-wracking, for sure, but thankfully they escaped with nothing but a few pills of soma and vicodin and a knee brace.
it's one of those things that makes you flash all the moments you've had with these people in two seconds, then you feel immediate fear because you realize you might not be able to relive any of those.
immediate fear because you can't grow old with people.
loss is a weird thing. i remember my great grandma's funeral when i was around six or seven. everyone around me was crying, sobbing. i wanted to cry. i wsa forcing myself to. but nothing came. i never really knew her. but family's family, so i was there, dressed in a little kid's suit, pretending to rub my eyes and wipe my tears with my sleeve because i saw my dad doing it.
flash to when i was a sophomore in high school. i hear about my grandma's death. i sat in my room for two seconds and immediately bawled. my grandma practically raised me, taught me all the little things i should and shouldn't do: don't swim after eating, don't use your hands to eat that, don't poke sticks in that. my brother and i were crying for a while, out of shock more than grief, and came to terms with it a few days later.
and then four years later, dear dear liam said goodbye to us all by overdosing on methamphetamines. he was one of my best friends in manhattan, one of those artsy-geeky-rocker types that the english majors would fall in love with. depressed over the loss of his best friend at 9/11, he crashed in two years, spiraling to a careless and frenzied way of dealing with his loss.
for months, my friends and i wondered why. we cried, we got mad, we didn't want to see each other. i got diagnosed with clinical depression, stemming from his death; and a few more of my friends went through the same. to this day, every time i hear "yellow" i can't help but feel emotional.
but in all these cases of loss you realize that what everyone's been saying all along is true. you don't know what you have until it's gone. i won't ever hear stories from my great grandma's mouth, i won't ever get to hug my grandma, and i won't ever have the chance to hang out with liam.
so if it sounds as if i'm terribly concerned or overactive about these kinds of situations, it's because i'm afraid. loss can make you a hell of a lot more fucked up than you already are (don't tell me you aren't or you'll get ripped a new one).
but i hold out. hope usually wins when it comes to these things, and despite everyone thinking i'm a pessimist, i'm hoping the pessimism holds out on the double negativity of the situation. not to mention all the great friends i have, the ones i
will have a chance to grow old with, the ones that tie together sanity and optimism with adventure and caution.
consider this a premature thank you.
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have you ever felt a longing, a tug at your heart, a pull at your sleeve, to be with someone?
it hurts.
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it's when the birds chirp pleasantly in the morning, when the sun decides to bathe berkeley in a golden swath of light, when the flowers waft their aromas onto the sidewalk, when the grass is cool under half an inch of cover, when the water twinkles during high noon.
it's summer.
mens agitat molem
after a long recovery period from the jetlag i was back to work, toiling over menial offfice jobs and dealing with some irate characters. one incident involved a group of georgians, obviously on their first trip out to california, their only notion of berkeley being a hippie town and naked protesters. they were awesome.
scene 1, aka en route to the bathroom.
"hey, y'all, wha is THAT?"
"this? it's a cappucino."
"what's THAT?"
"it's espresso with steamed milk and some foam."
"STEAMED MILK?"
scene 2, aka returning to the table.
"all right, now, y'all, what is that?"
"it's a mocha."
"what's that, like, chocolate?"
"yes, it's chocolate sauce. then we pour the milk and the coffee on top..."
"YOU CALIFORNIANS ARE CRAZY!"
scene 3, aka as they are eating.
"so do you have any questions about the menu?"
"what's this?"
"those are things you can order on the side. olives, anchovies, parmesan."
"what's PARMAZHANG?"
scene 4, aka as their wine arrives.
"y'all are classy. it doesn't come in a box."
scene 5, aka the pizza gets on the table.
"y'all don't got coke, right?"
"right, we only serve organic and sustainable beverages."
"so how about pepsi? or that new 7up?"
scene 6, aka refilling their water.
"this water is delicious! where do y'all get it?"
"it's berkeley tap water."
"so what about those water bottles i see y'all carrying around?"
"people order those."
"WHO BUYS WATER IN A BOTTLE?"
scene 7, aka exeunt.
"thanks for coming. have a good evening."
"y'all are great, but this place is crazy!'
"we know, ma'am. it's kinda why we work here."
"oh! i love it! say hi to your boss for me. we saw her on pbs."
"will do."
"it's how we knew about this place."
"oh, great."
"so we'll see you again tomorrow!"
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i've moved! thanks to my friends and movers.
expect an email from me soon. if you don't get one, i don't want you stalking me.
hugs!
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i've missed going to the city for the sake of just going to the city. i went with my brother the other day and had a blast. we had no plans. we ended up going in and out of the haight street fair, then to union square, ending up at chinatown where we re-encountered mister happy-happy-happy (ring a bell, berkeleyans?) ranting in chinese.
there's good energy in san francisco. lots of tourists. be careful, locals, there are a lot of people brandishing maps going into h&m on powell. then they go straight to urban outfitters. then they take pictures on the cable car line.
some days i want to be a tourist in san francisco. maybe buy myself a day pass on the double-decker buses, or get on a bay line cruise. go back and see alcatraz, eat chowder at the wharf, have a sundae at ghirardelli square. take pictures of ridiculous things. get lost on muni.
you never forget your first time.
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oh and yeah, my ear's pierced.
