just realized
today i spent the entire day with no phone calls. i also did not speak to anyone in person, face to face. i received 2 emails, one with hopes to sell me perscription drugs cheaper, and the other offering help to drive traffic up to my website. i did however, chat with people online. definition of a sunday i suppose. i spent 1 hr walking.
watching the movie swingers always brings me up. brings me down that it's from 1996.
Monday, March 21, 2005
Wednesday, March 16, 2005
”come and talk to me! i really wanna meet you”
meeting girls is not my forte, (did i say forte?) ok i suck at meeting girls/women/female humans. all of them. i’m not alone in this area of expertise, almost all normal men share the same disability as i do.
let’s paint a typical scenario:
your run of the mill cute (single) girl is out buying a book. one isle over we see our man…that guy that you know, one of your regular ol’ friends. the one that’s such a good guy but when it comes to anything female he falls flat on his face, in the mud, in front of a stadium full of people. he’s the guy who you sometimes wonder about, will he ever get a girlfriend? back to the painting of a mental picture, he sees the cute girl and realizes that she’s cute. he walks over to her with the intention to say something which will spark conversation. within 30 seconds he’s totally goofed it up and she’s just chiseled into her mind that this guy will never get her phone number. we all know (as people at home watching this) in actuality, he’d be a much better boyfriend than her previous 3,but he just doesn’t know how to talk to women.
this is not an uncommon scenario, i’ve witnessed it many times. i can even say that i am guilty of being in such an awkward situation a few times. (when i muster up the cucarachas to actually approach a complete stranger). so what do men with no knowledge of how to meet women do? the recent movie hitch had one remedy, but hiring will smith to consult you on how to win over women isn’t really feasible for most men.
i asked 4 different women for my research. the first woman was single, the second had just started dating a guy, the third is 1 year and a few months into her relationship, and the fourth is counting 5 years consecutive with the same boy. i asked each women what she would think/feel in the same scenario.
the scenario i presented was as follows:
“so imagine that you meet a boy, you are a single girl for this hypothetical example. he’s smooth, but he’s not a player. you grow comfortable with him quickly, and he is sincere. you date a few times and during a date at his home or in his car you come across a few “how to meet women” tapes/books/dvd’s. how do you feel about this? what do you think?
the 3 girls with men said that they’d feel awkward upon stumbling onto his collection of “how to meet women” books. the one with the 5 year relationship’s first words were “i’d run”. the single girl looked a bit surprised and then said it wouldn’t be that big of a deal.
my polls aren’t sufficient for any ground breaking discoveries. i can conclude that people in relationships very quickly forget how hard it is to be single, and how grueling the process of finding a significant other is. i also want to tell all men who have any self help books on the meeting of women subject to burn the books as soon as they do meet a woman of interest.
i’m also certain that anyone who reads this will first wonder how i came up with such a scenario, and then ask me if i own any self help books that guide me to the meeting of women. however i explain myself, i’m certain nobody will believe me. i do not have any “how to meet women” books/tapes/cd’s/dvd’s/ebooks/pamphlets/napkins with notes/ or mp3 files. the facts point to this post being my validation to purchase such self-help materials. i’m a super loser with the women, i don’t have a girl that i’m currently dating, and frankly… i sit at home and think of these things such as this to write about in my idle spare time.
i feel like i should read some of these books, post what i’m told to do. then try the techniques and document the results. but then again, failure at that would be a really big slap in the face, i don’t know if i’m ready for life to give me another one of those.
meeting girls is not my forte, (did i say forte?) ok i suck at meeting girls/women/female humans. all of them. i’m not alone in this area of expertise, almost all normal men share the same disability as i do.
let’s paint a typical scenario:
your run of the mill cute (single) girl is out buying a book. one isle over we see our man…that guy that you know, one of your regular ol’ friends. the one that’s such a good guy but when it comes to anything female he falls flat on his face, in the mud, in front of a stadium full of people. he’s the guy who you sometimes wonder about, will he ever get a girlfriend? back to the painting of a mental picture, he sees the cute girl and realizes that she’s cute. he walks over to her with the intention to say something which will spark conversation. within 30 seconds he’s totally goofed it up and she’s just chiseled into her mind that this guy will never get her phone number. we all know (as people at home watching this) in actuality, he’d be a much better boyfriend than her previous 3,but he just doesn’t know how to talk to women.
this is not an uncommon scenario, i’ve witnessed it many times. i can even say that i am guilty of being in such an awkward situation a few times. (when i muster up the cucarachas to actually approach a complete stranger). so what do men with no knowledge of how to meet women do? the recent movie hitch had one remedy, but hiring will smith to consult you on how to win over women isn’t really feasible for most men.
i asked 4 different women for my research. the first woman was single, the second had just started dating a guy, the third is 1 year and a few months into her relationship, and the fourth is counting 5 years consecutive with the same boy. i asked each women what she would think/feel in the same scenario.
the scenario i presented was as follows:
“so imagine that you meet a boy, you are a single girl for this hypothetical example. he’s smooth, but he’s not a player. you grow comfortable with him quickly, and he is sincere. you date a few times and during a date at his home or in his car you come across a few “how to meet women” tapes/books/dvd’s. how do you feel about this? what do you think?
the 3 girls with men said that they’d feel awkward upon stumbling onto his collection of “how to meet women” books. the one with the 5 year relationship’s first words were “i’d run”. the single girl looked a bit surprised and then said it wouldn’t be that big of a deal.
my polls aren’t sufficient for any ground breaking discoveries. i can conclude that people in relationships very quickly forget how hard it is to be single, and how grueling the process of finding a significant other is. i also want to tell all men who have any self help books on the meeting of women subject to burn the books as soon as they do meet a woman of interest.
i’m also certain that anyone who reads this will first wonder how i came up with such a scenario, and then ask me if i own any self help books that guide me to the meeting of women. however i explain myself, i’m certain nobody will believe me. i do not have any “how to meet women” books/tapes/cd’s/dvd’s/ebooks/pamphlets/napkins with notes/ or mp3 files. the facts point to this post being my validation to purchase such self-help materials. i’m a super loser with the women, i don’t have a girl that i’m currently dating, and frankly… i sit at home and think of these things such as this to write about in my idle spare time.
i feel like i should read some of these books, post what i’m told to do. then try the techniques and document the results. but then again, failure at that would be a really big slap in the face, i don’t know if i’m ready for life to give me another one of those.
Wednesday, March 9, 2005
death and taxes
i’ve just completed my taxes. i filed. i should be getting money back. yippie skippie jump for joy oh lucky me! our gracious government takes too much money from me throughout the year and then gives just a bit of it back in april. my parent’s used to take the money i made, and give it back to me in small increments, so i couldn’t go spending all my money in one place. or so i assumed, instead they were training me for the real world.
however, making money is not the only time that i pay taxes… anytime i purchase anything, that’s right folks, when i buy anything, i also pay taxes. is this absurd? i foresee that in the future there will most likely be an ‘idle’ tax. idle tax? what does that mean you ask? i am predicting a tax that takes money from your idle account. i can see it all now, 6% tax if your bank account doesn’t have a transaction within a week. deposit or withdrawal, doesn’t matter… as long as you spend or make money you’re paying taxes. it’s when you’re idle that the government isn’t making money off of you, obviously they haven’t realized this loophole in the system.
there is automatically one concept that comes to mind when i ponder the world of taxes… death. death is different than taxes. death is just as certain per the famous saying, however it’s not something that one can schedule and prepare for by april of every year. death comes at expected times, as well as unexpected times. death brings times of reflection, it plops your life into perspective, and surfaces memories. taxes only piss you off and make you groan like you just stubbed your toe.
thinking about death sparks the question of my own death. i wonder, will anyone remember me when i die? possibly my ghost will linger for a few days, or even a week. hopefully i’ll be important enough to be in someone’s mind… 100 years post-my death, will anything about me or my existence be remembered?
i’m guessing that if anything is remembered about me it would be my name. 100 years after i’m put into the ground there’s a possibility that my name would be the only thing remembered… most likely because my name is what will be on the tombstone or plastic container that contains my ashes. ironically i had no part in the decision of my name. the work of my parents yielded the name i carry, and they were the ones who worked to get me into this world to begin with. that doesn’t sound like making a mark on this world to me.
should i become famous? famous people that have died left their mark, history books remembered and wrote about these people, and then i had to learn about them in a dry history class from an upset single-parent teacher. is that what i aspire to be?
it’s never been a dream of mine to become a topic on the chapter 3 history test, so the question is: what do i do with my life? answer: whatever the hell i want!
that’s right. i’ve unveiled the epiphany that i could be a drug-addict-homeless-bum getting loaded every night and sleep on the streets with a milk crate for a chair. nobody will know the difference 100 years from now. on the converse, i could devote all of my waking hours making money, kissing upper management’s arse, climbing the corporate ladder, and squashing the little guys in order to attain ‘a bigger piece of the pie’. still, who will care to find out what it is that i did 100 years ago? it appears that the only person on this planet that it matters to is me. the scenario of the bum the work-aholic have one commonality, neither would satisfy me.
the problem is that i can’t figure out what it is that i do want to do… someone asked me the other day, a very simple question. “have you met anyone who has a job that you’d just love to have?” –i’m still at a loss for the answer to this question. maybe i should become a tax collector.
i’ve just completed my taxes. i filed. i should be getting money back. yippie skippie jump for joy oh lucky me! our gracious government takes too much money from me throughout the year and then gives just a bit of it back in april. my parent’s used to take the money i made, and give it back to me in small increments, so i couldn’t go spending all my money in one place. or so i assumed, instead they were training me for the real world.
however, making money is not the only time that i pay taxes… anytime i purchase anything, that’s right folks, when i buy anything, i also pay taxes. is this absurd? i foresee that in the future there will most likely be an ‘idle’ tax. idle tax? what does that mean you ask? i am predicting a tax that takes money from your idle account. i can see it all now, 6% tax if your bank account doesn’t have a transaction within a week. deposit or withdrawal, doesn’t matter… as long as you spend or make money you’re paying taxes. it’s when you’re idle that the government isn’t making money off of you, obviously they haven’t realized this loophole in the system.
there is automatically one concept that comes to mind when i ponder the world of taxes… death. death is different than taxes. death is just as certain per the famous saying, however it’s not something that one can schedule and prepare for by april of every year. death comes at expected times, as well as unexpected times. death brings times of reflection, it plops your life into perspective, and surfaces memories. taxes only piss you off and make you groan like you just stubbed your toe.
thinking about death sparks the question of my own death. i wonder, will anyone remember me when i die? possibly my ghost will linger for a few days, or even a week. hopefully i’ll be important enough to be in someone’s mind… 100 years post-my death, will anything about me or my existence be remembered?
i’m guessing that if anything is remembered about me it would be my name. 100 years after i’m put into the ground there’s a possibility that my name would be the only thing remembered… most likely because my name is what will be on the tombstone or plastic container that contains my ashes. ironically i had no part in the decision of my name. the work of my parents yielded the name i carry, and they were the ones who worked to get me into this world to begin with. that doesn’t sound like making a mark on this world to me.
should i become famous? famous people that have died left their mark, history books remembered and wrote about these people, and then i had to learn about them in a dry history class from an upset single-parent teacher. is that what i aspire to be?
it’s never been a dream of mine to become a topic on the chapter 3 history test, so the question is: what do i do with my life? answer: whatever the hell i want!
that’s right. i’ve unveiled the epiphany that i could be a drug-addict-homeless-bum getting loaded every night and sleep on the streets with a milk crate for a chair. nobody will know the difference 100 years from now. on the converse, i could devote all of my waking hours making money, kissing upper management’s arse, climbing the corporate ladder, and squashing the little guys in order to attain ‘a bigger piece of the pie’. still, who will care to find out what it is that i did 100 years ago? it appears that the only person on this planet that it matters to is me. the scenario of the bum the work-aholic have one commonality, neither would satisfy me.
the problem is that i can’t figure out what it is that i do want to do… someone asked me the other day, a very simple question. “have you met anyone who has a job that you’d just love to have?” –i’m still at a loss for the answer to this question. maybe i should become a tax collector.
Monday, February 28, 2005
timing
What time is it? Schooled as an engineer I’ve become intimate with the term dx/dt. Delta*, is represented by the d’s. ‘x’ is the variable**, and t holds for time. Oh time, oh time, how doesth tho rely-ith on thee, let me count the ways.
The terms ‘with respect to time’ and ‘dx/dt’ mean much more to me than a math or physics word problem description.
The 4th dimension (time) is almost always overlooked, yet time produces the largest impact in any real life scenario. We like to look at things with a snapshot view, a ‘frozen in time’ perspective that exists only instantaneously. It’s easy to comprehend and understand for us. Freezing time allows us to negate the element that governs all change. Time is a concept that cannot be comprehended all at once, it’s simply too great of an idea to process in your mind.
For example, imagine a baseball player. Perfect swing form, and an unimaginable amount of power behind the bat will get him nowhere without that key element: timing. Timing just when to start that swing/power combo makes the difference between trotting the bases with fireworks and walking back to the dugout. Sports are only an example.
All too many times I feel that a conversation at the perfect time, with just the right person could change my life forever. I have these thoughts practiced and perfected, just as our baseball player's swing. Now I must wait to be pitched the opportunity to execute. I rely on time. If I rush or wait, that’s right… strike out city.
Timing is a simple enough concept to grasp. Understanding how large of an impact timing has in every aspect of existence is a different story. It is far too complex for our simple human minds to compute.
I’m praying that I’ve realized this “in time" for if I’m too late, I’ll always be just a bench warmer!
*The Greek letter symbolizing change, looks like a triangle.
**Your subject matter that changes, or varies, hence the name: variable.
What time is it? Schooled as an engineer I’ve become intimate with the term dx/dt. Delta*, is represented by the d’s. ‘x’ is the variable**, and t holds for time. Oh time, oh time, how doesth tho rely-ith on thee, let me count the ways.
The terms ‘with respect to time’ and ‘dx/dt’ mean much more to me than a math or physics word problem description.
The 4th dimension (time) is almost always overlooked, yet time produces the largest impact in any real life scenario. We like to look at things with a snapshot view, a ‘frozen in time’ perspective that exists only instantaneously. It’s easy to comprehend and understand for us. Freezing time allows us to negate the element that governs all change. Time is a concept that cannot be comprehended all at once, it’s simply too great of an idea to process in your mind.
For example, imagine a baseball player. Perfect swing form, and an unimaginable amount of power behind the bat will get him nowhere without that key element: timing. Timing just when to start that swing/power combo makes the difference between trotting the bases with fireworks and walking back to the dugout. Sports are only an example.
All too many times I feel that a conversation at the perfect time, with just the right person could change my life forever. I have these thoughts practiced and perfected, just as our baseball player's swing. Now I must wait to be pitched the opportunity to execute. I rely on time. If I rush or wait, that’s right… strike out city.
Timing is a simple enough concept to grasp. Understanding how large of an impact timing has in every aspect of existence is a different story. It is far too complex for our simple human minds to compute.
I’m praying that I’ve realized this “in time" for if I’m too late, I’ll always be just a bench warmer!
*The Greek letter symbolizing change, looks like a triangle.
**Your subject matter that changes, or varies, hence the name: variable.
Thursday, February 24, 2005
breakfast in san francisco
lilly came to visit me, and she took me out to breakfast. eating breakfast in san francisco with people from san diego is nice enough to take some time to remember. what better ave to reminisce? photoshop pics of yourself on a monkey bench!
lilly came to visit me, and she took me out to breakfast. eating breakfast in san francisco with people from san diego is nice enough to take some time to remember. what better ave to reminisce? photoshop pics of yourself on a monkey bench!
Tuesday, February 22, 2005
Wear sunscreen….
I sit in my room quite a bit. being jobless, my job turns into hunting for a job. A job that I don’t work too hard at, I must confess… but I am becoming more persistent in the mass emailing of resumes to the infinite number of black hole email addresses found on yahoo.hotjobs, monster.com, craigslist.org, and other such “employment” websites.
On a certain occasion, my roommate approached my room and asked me if I had heard a song that she had just listened to in her car on the radio. “The title was something about sunscreen, and it was some guy talking” she described to me. Oh yes! The baz luhrman speech turned into a song! Of course I had this file… and quickly copied it to her.
That sent me hyperspeed into one of those cheesy sitcom daydream flashback moments where all the actors are the same age yet we’re flashing back 4 years or so. I listened to the song and heard the words that I recall hearing last time I had played this track. There were some cute lines I had forgotten, and some memorable lines that I had remembered. One line of the cheesy speech-turned-song struck me with 10,000 volts the moment I heard it. The line was brand new, as if baz had just added it and this was the debut of the newly added line, for my ears only.
“don’t waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you’re ahead, sometimes you’re behind, the race is long and in the end it’s only with yourself.”
Years ago, these two sentences didn’t mean anything to me. I had no need to feel jealousy at this point in my life. With an optimistic college student outlook, my internal audio filter cut this line out of my auditory frequency and erased it from my memory.
Today I’m full of jealousy.
I’m so full of jealousy that I’ve turned my new favorite album choice to “so jealous” by tegan and sara. The latter statement may seem a bit too extreme. I do really enjoy the music of the Canadian twin lesbian sisters, and their latest album “so jealous” just so happens to fall in with my current mood.
My ex girlfriend emailed me today asking for my address, she wants to send me pics of her and “her loves”. After 5 years of dating and about that many years of living together, she is getting married. Am I jealous of him marrying her? No. am I jealous of not having someone to call “loves”? no. then what is my issue here??? I’m jealous at how excited and happy her email to me was. The words in her email were emitting the same glow that she would have been, as she composed the email.
There are people I associate with who have been on the planet for a year or two less than me that have accomplished more. They have newer cars, better clothes, more friends, a secure place in their “world”… I witness first hand people who sit comfortably in every aspect of life, having attained so many of my unachieved goals with what seems to be ease.
Hearing this line, from this song, gave me that parental hand on the shoulder accompanied by the ever-so-comforting “you’re doing better than you think, be patient, it’ll all work out. You just have to wait and see.” Had a person told me these ideas I would have warded them off with my common sense warding shield and continued being a jealous underachiever. Something about a recording with bad music behind it, coupled with a boatload of fun/entertaining/useful wisdom can put things into perspective.
I’m behind now. I’ve been up before. I’ll be up again. Then I’ll be down again. But the race is long. And it is really only me that sees this “race”. I’m the only one that deals with this jealousy. Simple idea.
i bet you're jealous that i posted this entry via wireless internet compliments of the JavaCat cafe in san francisco with the help of an apple ibook. that's a little fyi for your in-for-may-shun!
I sit in my room quite a bit. being jobless, my job turns into hunting for a job. A job that I don’t work too hard at, I must confess… but I am becoming more persistent in the mass emailing of resumes to the infinite number of black hole email addresses found on yahoo.hotjobs, monster.com, craigslist.org, and other such “employment” websites.
On a certain occasion, my roommate approached my room and asked me if I had heard a song that she had just listened to in her car on the radio. “The title was something about sunscreen, and it was some guy talking” she described to me. Oh yes! The baz luhrman speech turned into a song! Of course I had this file… and quickly copied it to her.
That sent me hyperspeed into one of those cheesy sitcom daydream flashback moments where all the actors are the same age yet we’re flashing back 4 years or so. I listened to the song and heard the words that I recall hearing last time I had played this track. There were some cute lines I had forgotten, and some memorable lines that I had remembered. One line of the cheesy speech-turned-song struck me with 10,000 volts the moment I heard it. The line was brand new, as if baz had just added it and this was the debut of the newly added line, for my ears only.
“don’t waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you’re ahead, sometimes you’re behind, the race is long and in the end it’s only with yourself.”
Years ago, these two sentences didn’t mean anything to me. I had no need to feel jealousy at this point in my life. With an optimistic college student outlook, my internal audio filter cut this line out of my auditory frequency and erased it from my memory.
Today I’m full of jealousy.
I’m so full of jealousy that I’ve turned my new favorite album choice to “so jealous” by tegan and sara. The latter statement may seem a bit too extreme. I do really enjoy the music of the Canadian twin lesbian sisters, and their latest album “so jealous” just so happens to fall in with my current mood.
My ex girlfriend emailed me today asking for my address, she wants to send me pics of her and “her loves”. After 5 years of dating and about that many years of living together, she is getting married. Am I jealous of him marrying her? No. am I jealous of not having someone to call “loves”? no. then what is my issue here??? I’m jealous at how excited and happy her email to me was. The words in her email were emitting the same glow that she would have been, as she composed the email.
There are people I associate with who have been on the planet for a year or two less than me that have accomplished more. They have newer cars, better clothes, more friends, a secure place in their “world”… I witness first hand people who sit comfortably in every aspect of life, having attained so many of my unachieved goals with what seems to be ease.
Hearing this line, from this song, gave me that parental hand on the shoulder accompanied by the ever-so-comforting “you’re doing better than you think, be patient, it’ll all work out. You just have to wait and see.” Had a person told me these ideas I would have warded them off with my common sense warding shield and continued being a jealous underachiever. Something about a recording with bad music behind it, coupled with a boatload of fun/entertaining/useful wisdom can put things into perspective.
I’m behind now. I’ve been up before. I’ll be up again. Then I’ll be down again. But the race is long. And it is really only me that sees this “race”. I’m the only one that deals with this jealousy. Simple idea.
i bet you're jealous that i posted this entry via wireless internet compliments of the JavaCat cafe in san francisco with the help of an apple ibook. that's a little fyi for your in-for-may-shun!
Sunday, February 13, 2005
which valentine are we following here??
while i was hanging in la, being the coolest of cool that i normally am, something caught my eye. a copy of la brea living. the cover pictured an exotic car coupled with a headline promising more on the inside. the 15 page magazine had 2 pages dedicated to the exotic cars. disappointed i flipped through the local mag in search of something else of interest. a simple turn of the page left me staring at a page with 3 short paragraphs, a small title, and a hot brunette wearing a red satin strapless dress, kneeling down. in her hands- a heart shaped box with a white bow. my attention was captive. “who invented valentines day?” was the title.
article summary:
stats: over 1 billion cards sent every vday. 85% purchased by women. there were 3 saints named valentine, all 3 were martyred. the most famed one was imprisoned for teaching christianity in opposition to the roman gods. while in prison he healed a jailers blind daughter. to celebrate this, he sent her a letter the day before his execution (beheaded) which took place on feb. 14th. he signed the letter “from your valentine”. (if you think that’s a crock, it gets even better… ) romans used to draw names from a hat, guys choose girls names. the person you pick is your lover for the rest of the year. this took place in feb as well.
fast forward to 2005 and what do we do? we send cards, go to overpriced meals, and buy chocolates.
did anyone ponder that saint valentine sent a letter to a girl who was just healed from being blind? let’s just believe for a sec that he could give a blind person sight from the inside of his jail cell. how the hell could she read the letter!?
why did we keep the tradition of sending cards as opposed to the chauvinistic picking of names out of hats? everyone would at least have had a valentine then.
i’ve decided that holidays start anywhere, thus i’m starting my own. first, to find an event in history which i feel is significant and mutate a tradition out of it. in the following years the tradition will catch and soon there will be school days off, songs, fictional characters, irrelevant traditions and stories that are somewhat related to the event, and of course billions of billions of dollars spent each year by people celebrating the tradition. the goal here is to be a company who banks on such a tradition.
the holiday i have chosen to create will be a christian holiday. the specific event i have in mind is the time that jesus feeds the masses. the story where jesus feeds a few thousand people with a couple loafs of bread and two fish. if we have a holiday that celebrates the letter from a jail cell then we better have a week long holiday for the day jesus made food out of thin air! we could couple this with the time jesus made water into wine. i can see the holiday now...
show up to someone’s house with a few bottles of water. they tell you they have nothing but bread and fish to eat. so they put out some crackers and smoked salmon… everyone sits down to eat and you offer everyone some water. when all of a sudden, the host for the evening takes the water, goes to the kitchen, and comes back with wine! the host then takes the crackers and smoked salmon back into the kitchen to come out with a rack of lamb or some bbq spare ribs. the holiday would be a day to eat a ton, but pretend it came out of thin air. then there’d be some sort of gift exchange, we’d have an animal (the ‘masses snail’ has my vote) that magically makes everyone happy and flies around in the sky delivering happiness in monetary form to everyone and their loved ones.
of course then, anti-people such as me would be rise up against masses day. accusing companies and money as the basis for such a holiday. we are celebrating a miracle here. but maybe the reason this event (feeds the masses) was blown out of proportion, it could be a complete farce. however, it comes 360 back to some dude in jail that wrote a letter to a little girl.
while i was hanging in la, being the coolest of cool that i normally am, something caught my eye. a copy of la brea living. the cover pictured an exotic car coupled with a headline promising more on the inside. the 15 page magazine had 2 pages dedicated to the exotic cars. disappointed i flipped through the local mag in search of something else of interest. a simple turn of the page left me staring at a page with 3 short paragraphs, a small title, and a hot brunette wearing a red satin strapless dress, kneeling down. in her hands- a heart shaped box with a white bow. my attention was captive. “who invented valentines day?” was the title.
article summary:
stats: over 1 billion cards sent every vday. 85% purchased by women. there were 3 saints named valentine, all 3 were martyred. the most famed one was imprisoned for teaching christianity in opposition to the roman gods. while in prison he healed a jailers blind daughter. to celebrate this, he sent her a letter the day before his execution (beheaded) which took place on feb. 14th. he signed the letter “from your valentine”. (if you think that’s a crock, it gets even better… ) romans used to draw names from a hat, guys choose girls names. the person you pick is your lover for the rest of the year. this took place in feb as well.
fast forward to 2005 and what do we do? we send cards, go to overpriced meals, and buy chocolates.
did anyone ponder that saint valentine sent a letter to a girl who was just healed from being blind? let’s just believe for a sec that he could give a blind person sight from the inside of his jail cell. how the hell could she read the letter!?
why did we keep the tradition of sending cards as opposed to the chauvinistic picking of names out of hats? everyone would at least have had a valentine then.
i’ve decided that holidays start anywhere, thus i’m starting my own. first, to find an event in history which i feel is significant and mutate a tradition out of it. in the following years the tradition will catch and soon there will be school days off, songs, fictional characters, irrelevant traditions and stories that are somewhat related to the event, and of course billions of billions of dollars spent each year by people celebrating the tradition. the goal here is to be a company who banks on such a tradition.
the holiday i have chosen to create will be a christian holiday. the specific event i have in mind is the time that jesus feeds the masses. the story where jesus feeds a few thousand people with a couple loafs of bread and two fish. if we have a holiday that celebrates the letter from a jail cell then we better have a week long holiday for the day jesus made food out of thin air! we could couple this with the time jesus made water into wine. i can see the holiday now...
show up to someone’s house with a few bottles of water. they tell you they have nothing but bread and fish to eat. so they put out some crackers and smoked salmon… everyone sits down to eat and you offer everyone some water. when all of a sudden, the host for the evening takes the water, goes to the kitchen, and comes back with wine! the host then takes the crackers and smoked salmon back into the kitchen to come out with a rack of lamb or some bbq spare ribs. the holiday would be a day to eat a ton, but pretend it came out of thin air. then there’d be some sort of gift exchange, we’d have an animal (the ‘masses snail’ has my vote) that magically makes everyone happy and flies around in the sky delivering happiness in monetary form to everyone and their loved ones.
of course then, anti-people such as me would be rise up against masses day. accusing companies and money as the basis for such a holiday. we are celebrating a miracle here. but maybe the reason this event (feeds the masses) was blown out of proportion, it could be a complete farce. however, it comes 360 back to some dude in jail that wrote a letter to a little girl.
Thursday, February 10, 2005
la in a weekend
i’ve been hesitant to post anything on my blog due to the fact that my name is attached to it #1, and the fact that i just saw a news story on different bloggers who were fired for blogging the wrong thing. (it’s not a good idea to bash your boss on the internet, you will get fired for it)
however, i’m not employed so there’s no boss bashing here, all i’ve got is a report on a nice weekend to the city of angels with my friend jon g.
here are the pics and the play by play:
roscoe’s chicken and waffles. in all of jon g’s glory he asked the waitress upon ordering “what is your specialty here?” bewildered the woman looked at him and with all sincerity said “uhh.. chicken, and …(imagine a super long pause, where we each looked at each other because we all knew the next word to come out of her mouth started with “waff” and ended in a “les”.) … waffles” ordering is most difficult when you are using all of your concentration to not fall on the floor and laugh.
you can see they keep it real here
then we went to melrose. once you’ve been you’ve seen it all… that’s what this kid was thinking while eating a hot dog the size of his forearm.
lynn found a pic that suits her, well the message does… pink letters are a bit too tacky for her liking. i had a bruise as proof.
this bridge gives a great view of the hollywood sign that sits upon the hill… my camera really didn’t capture that.
jon g passed up muscle beach, not really his thing.
sonic and emsterz came out to hang in la with the sf boys. a good time was had by all, emi celebrated by eating lemons. even lemons are fun when you’re hanging with me!
that concluded the uneventful trip to la. uneventful doesn’t mean un-enjoyable, although the two are often correlated. like big and fat. well no.
i’ve been hesitant to post anything on my blog due to the fact that my name is attached to it #1, and the fact that i just saw a news story on different bloggers who were fired for blogging the wrong thing. (it’s not a good idea to bash your boss on the internet, you will get fired for it)
however, i’m not employed so there’s no boss bashing here, all i’ve got is a report on a nice weekend to the city of angels with my friend jon g.
here are the pics and the play by play:
roscoe’s chicken and waffles. in all of jon g’s glory he asked the waitress upon ordering “what is your specialty here?” bewildered the woman looked at him and with all sincerity said “uhh.. chicken, and …(imagine a super long pause, where we each looked at each other because we all knew the next word to come out of her mouth started with “waff” and ended in a “les”.) … waffles” ordering is most difficult when you are using all of your concentration to not fall on the floor and laugh.
you can see they keep it real here
then we went to melrose. once you’ve been you’ve seen it all… that’s what this kid was thinking while eating a hot dog the size of his forearm.
lynn found a pic that suits her, well the message does… pink letters are a bit too tacky for her liking. i had a bruise as proof.
this bridge gives a great view of the hollywood sign that sits upon the hill… my camera really didn’t capture that.
jon g passed up muscle beach, not really his thing.
sonic and emsterz came out to hang in la with the sf boys. a good time was had by all, emi celebrated by eating lemons. even lemons are fun when you’re hanging with me!
that concluded the uneventful trip to la. uneventful doesn’t mean un-enjoyable, although the two are often correlated. like big and fat. well no.
Wednesday, February 2, 2005
get up get out and get something
on sunday i awoke to an empty apartment. the tour (see previous entry) was fun, but it’s over… and i’m home alone in this big city. what does one do when they are all alone? they go for a walk!
since the ocean can be seen from my balcony, i figure that it can’t be too far away from my house, if i walk down the street and go westward far enough, i should hit water! so i grabbed a camera, my ipod, and my sidekick (mobile phone).
after approximately 15 mins of walking i came upon this sign:
ha! i had no idea that there was a district west of the richmond district (my current district of residence. actually there’s inner and outer richmond. i’m in the outer. and this is not to be confused with the city of richmond, a new movie with samuel l jackson called coach carter takes place in the city of richmond which lies miles east of oakland, this is not the same place fyi.)
this whole outer inner district concept put me in a weird place. in southern california, west is best, east is well… not nice. the more westward you live, the more expensive and crowded it gets. this law applies in san diego, orange county, los angeles, (heck, i’ve lived in east la, and i’m telling you that santa monica, venice, etc… are definitely the inner. living in east la i felt like i was in the outer. even san jose (aka man jose) has ghetto eastern parts and huge multi million dollar homes on the west side. the west rules except for san francisco. in this city, the more east, the more expensive. the weather even gets better as you travel east which is again backwards. us outer residents get much of the ocean’s fog and clouds whereas inland, the eastern side, has more sunny days and clear skies. however yesterday was a record breaking hi temp for feb 1! 71deg f, i’ve managed to bring me some socal weather to norcal. works for me!
so i’m not in the city anymore… (back to my walk here) i’ve noticed that i’m in some park of some sort. there’s trees with meadows and flowers (mind you this is the end of january)
not knowing where i am i check out some signs, see what this sutro is that i’ve discovered…
so i guess this place used to be some sort of bath house or something. built in the year 18~~ blah blah blah… bam! i looked past the signs and what did i see??
i ventured a few more steps to better see what this was that i had come upon
awesome! i’m so stoked that i’ve found the ocean to be like this! it reminds me of la jolla! it’s almost like home.
i’ve had my fill and i’m a happy guy, until i turn to the left and realize just what it is i see in the distance…
it’s the beach! whooo hoo. i’m excited to see the beach, and since it’s a lazy sunday, i venture down the path a bit.
on the way i ran into some thing random that also set me back to a socal setting… a totem pole!
in santa monica there is a totem pole that i skateboarded to from des and lynn’s apartment with des. des told me that it’s good luck to go visit the totem pole and kiss it. i didn’t kiss this one, but it did give me a sense of home being a totem pole overlooking the ocean.
i later find myself on the sand. enjoying the beach, however there’s one difference… everyone is fully clothed? i’m not used to a beach being full of people with clothes on. i’m used to bikini’s and trunks.
while i was there i decided to take some pictures of street art
around this time i realized that i had been on a 2 ½ hr walk down my street. i had only anticipated walking approximately 30 mins. i had no idea that this place would be so nice and captivating… however, on the way back an idea popped into my head and i realized that there was a good chance i could walk out to that point (see the 4th pic where they yellow arrow points to) and possibly see the golden gate bridge! heck why not? what else do i have to do on a sunday afternoon? so i do it, and here’s the pudding to prove it
on sunday i awoke to an empty apartment. the tour (see previous entry) was fun, but it’s over… and i’m home alone in this big city. what does one do when they are all alone? they go for a walk!
since the ocean can be seen from my balcony, i figure that it can’t be too far away from my house, if i walk down the street and go westward far enough, i should hit water! so i grabbed a camera, my ipod, and my sidekick (mobile phone).
after approximately 15 mins of walking i came upon this sign:
ha! i had no idea that there was a district west of the richmond district (my current district of residence. actually there’s inner and outer richmond. i’m in the outer. and this is not to be confused with the city of richmond, a new movie with samuel l jackson called coach carter takes place in the city of richmond which lies miles east of oakland, this is not the same place fyi.)
this whole outer inner district concept put me in a weird place. in southern california, west is best, east is well… not nice. the more westward you live, the more expensive and crowded it gets. this law applies in san diego, orange county, los angeles, (heck, i’ve lived in east la, and i’m telling you that santa monica, venice, etc… are definitely the inner. living in east la i felt like i was in the outer. even san jose (aka man jose) has ghetto eastern parts and huge multi million dollar homes on the west side. the west rules except for san francisco. in this city, the more east, the more expensive. the weather even gets better as you travel east which is again backwards. us outer residents get much of the ocean’s fog and clouds whereas inland, the eastern side, has more sunny days and clear skies. however yesterday was a record breaking hi temp for feb 1! 71deg f, i’ve managed to bring me some socal weather to norcal. works for me!
so i’m not in the city anymore… (back to my walk here) i’ve noticed that i’m in some park of some sort. there’s trees with meadows and flowers (mind you this is the end of january)
not knowing where i am i check out some signs, see what this sutro is that i’ve discovered…
so i guess this place used to be some sort of bath house or something. built in the year 18~~ blah blah blah… bam! i looked past the signs and what did i see??
i ventured a few more steps to better see what this was that i had come upon
awesome! i’m so stoked that i’ve found the ocean to be like this! it reminds me of la jolla! it’s almost like home.
i’ve had my fill and i’m a happy guy, until i turn to the left and realize just what it is i see in the distance…
it’s the beach! whooo hoo. i’m excited to see the beach, and since it’s a lazy sunday, i venture down the path a bit.
on the way i ran into some thing random that also set me back to a socal setting… a totem pole!
in santa monica there is a totem pole that i skateboarded to from des and lynn’s apartment with des. des told me that it’s good luck to go visit the totem pole and kiss it. i didn’t kiss this one, but it did give me a sense of home being a totem pole overlooking the ocean.
i later find myself on the sand. enjoying the beach, however there’s one difference… everyone is fully clothed? i’m not used to a beach being full of people with clothes on. i’m used to bikini’s and trunks.
while i was there i decided to take some pictures of street art
around this time i realized that i had been on a 2 ½ hr walk down my street. i had only anticipated walking approximately 30 mins. i had no idea that this place would be so nice and captivating… however, on the way back an idea popped into my head and i realized that there was a good chance i could walk out to that point (see the 4th pic where they yellow arrow points to) and possibly see the golden gate bridge! heck why not? what else do i have to do on a sunday afternoon? so i do it, and here’s the pudding to prove it
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