what jon said
my friend jon blogged about how he grew up in an asian american household (though he generalized and said most "ethnic" households are similar), and how tough it was to get some affection from his parents, and now he feels that may be the reason that he isn't giving his friends/loved ones affection that they deserve.
i used to think similarly to this way, untill one random time i jokingly said some kind words expressing how much i appreciated and liked them and saw how she lit up when i said these words.
sometimes people need to hear things that are implied. the reaction i got from saying a few nice words was facinating. the old mentality of "if i spend time with you, call you, email you, etc... that means you're worth my time, and i like you" is easy. and it'd work better if the world was only males. but hearing someone say something nice about you is very moving. especially if it's a close friend.
i grew up in the opposite of jon's world. my mom and dad always did and do says they love me. i get hugs and more hugs when i go home to see them. my family is full of affection and jon's is opposite.
this conflicts when i befrend someone like jon. who's path do we take? mine? his? a mix?
i have a friend who once told me that she never says "i love you" to anyone even her parents. i told her "i've been friends with her for years, and that i love you". her face was shocked for a few mins after i said these super powerful words so nonchalantly. but i did, i do! i love my friends and family, and i tell them. you have to, if everything was just implied then why talk? the phrase actions speak louder than words implies that words aren't loud, well they are. actions are just a little bit louder.
that same friend now will text message me or email and leave a "love, ____" at the end. because it's better to say it too much than not enough. i respect jon's way of showing affection, or lack thereof, but it's not the way i do things.
Wednesday, July 28, 2004
Sunday, July 25, 2004
momma always said "you never stop learning"
i graduated from college. from the great institution of UCIrvine. (our mascott is the anteater, and i'm reminded of this daily by my USC and UCLA alumni co-workers. what does this mean? well, 5 years and lots of debt...
yes, but there's more. one can't just show up to good ol' UCI and start their academic studying. 4 years of high school, 3 years of junior high, 5 years of grade school, a year of kindergarden, and some pre-school... pre-school!! i went to a school in order to learn how to go to school!!!!
this totals up 19 years of taking classes. I'm only 25 years old, and as an infant I don't see myself being coherent enough to learn much more than how to cry, relieve myself, and sleep. (really miss that sleeping thing, i practiced that a lot)
so i've been learning a lot. learing, taking classes, honing my skills so that i'll be a benefit to society. thing is, i feel that the stuff i've learned shouldn't have required 19 years. but that's not the real point here....
i've taken a lot of classes, had a lot of teachers, sat/slept through lots of lectures. i've colored the pictures in the lines and memorized my spelling words for the weekly wednesday spell testing (i did horribly of course) .
so recently i found myself with a list of classes i wanted to take: cullinary, welding, adobe photoshop/illustrator, macromedia flash & dreamweaver, bartending, real estate, scuba diving, autocross or a performance driving class, and of course i'd like to get my MBA...
these are things i really want to learn. now come to think of it, if i were to go full time as a student, i could knock these courses out in 1 year(not including the MBA). i've worked 19 years in schools and classes interpreting books and simplifying equations... but that doesn't pay bills, or impress chicks. the two highest prioritys on my list.
maybe i feel cheated a bit that i am now paying hundreds of dollars a month in order to knock out a debt of thousands of dollars and i still don't know the stuff that i would like to know from going to school. if i want some more skills (the ones that i am impressed with) i'm going to have to take some more classes.
when mom said you never stop learning, i thought that there were life lessons i'd encounter and there were people and situations that i was to learn from. i think i misunderstood her... "you never stop going to school" is most likely what she said. i never trust my memory.
i graduated from college. from the great institution of UCIrvine. (our mascott is the anteater, and i'm reminded of this daily by my USC and UCLA alumni co-workers. what does this mean? well, 5 years and lots of debt...
yes, but there's more. one can't just show up to good ol' UCI and start their academic studying. 4 years of high school, 3 years of junior high, 5 years of grade school, a year of kindergarden, and some pre-school... pre-school!! i went to a school in order to learn how to go to school!!!!
this totals up 19 years of taking classes. I'm only 25 years old, and as an infant I don't see myself being coherent enough to learn much more than how to cry, relieve myself, and sleep. (really miss that sleeping thing, i practiced that a lot)
so i've been learning a lot. learing, taking classes, honing my skills so that i'll be a benefit to society. thing is, i feel that the stuff i've learned shouldn't have required 19 years. but that's not the real point here....
i've taken a lot of classes, had a lot of teachers, sat/slept through lots of lectures. i've colored the pictures in the lines and memorized my spelling words for the weekly wednesday spell testing (i did horribly of course) .
so recently i found myself with a list of classes i wanted to take: cullinary, welding, adobe photoshop/illustrator, macromedia flash & dreamweaver, bartending, real estate, scuba diving, autocross or a performance driving class, and of course i'd like to get my MBA...
these are things i really want to learn. now come to think of it, if i were to go full time as a student, i could knock these courses out in 1 year(not including the MBA). i've worked 19 years in schools and classes interpreting books and simplifying equations... but that doesn't pay bills, or impress chicks. the two highest prioritys on my list.
maybe i feel cheated a bit that i am now paying hundreds of dollars a month in order to knock out a debt of thousands of dollars and i still don't know the stuff that i would like to know from going to school. if i want some more skills (the ones that i am impressed with) i'm going to have to take some more classes.
when mom said you never stop learning, i thought that there were life lessons i'd encounter and there were people and situations that i was to learn from. i think i misunderstood her... "you never stop going to school" is most likely what she said. i never trust my memory.
Friday, July 9, 2004
straight edge is scary edge for me
everyone has stress. everyone has issues of heartache and some sort of problem that they would like to get off their back. in compensation for these stresses and probmlems as living animals that we refer to as human beings, we need a way to "let it out!" and since our 40 hr a week, 50 week a year, schedule doesn't allow us to visit hawaii as often as we'd like to, this is the reason we have the weekends.
some need to release more than others. some release by different means than others. personally i drink. i love it. it's great. my mon-thurs is spent daydreaming about where and what i'm going to drink that weekend. and if i'm not drinking, then i'm either sick as heck or dead. the latter hasn't happened yet but it's getting closer to becoming true. there's those who don't drink. and i respect their wishes, it's not for everyone. but it makes me wonder what is their release? how do they "let it out"
thru my years of educational teen movies/sitcoms/cartoons and of course the many wonderfully pointless hours of mtv trash has molded my ideas such as thus: substance release vs the sexual release.
the scene is set with the "main guy", he's trying to get the girl (perfect setup for a teen movie.) he's always gotta be the main guy cause girls are harder to get than drugs/alcohaul. then there's the sidekick. the one who needs no girl for his release, he's happy getting intoxicated. so the intresting story is the sober dude's escapades in attaining this perfect figure, not the sidekick's tribulations to finding a liquor store. all the while the "main guy's" sidekick is intoxicated and completely happy with life. he sees things completely simple and when he tells the "main guy" what he thinks the "main guy" has an epiphany. the only thing not set in our sidekick's world is that his homefry doesn't have the chick he so desires and can't stop thinking about her.
and that's it.
so who are you? i'm the sidekick... i'm content with myself catching a nice buzz and enjoying a simple release of the day's stresses and deadlines. i fear the people that will never take the role of the sidekick. they're going to spontaneously combust someday due to lack of release. and that's a bad thing for the sidekick, especially if he's wearing one of those new white shirts mom bought him. so for sidekicks sake, become a sidekick once in a while... hey it happens... movie reference: beginning of half baked (before dave chapelle became the "main guy" and quit the substance release and started the sexual release)
everyone has stress. everyone has issues of heartache and some sort of problem that they would like to get off their back. in compensation for these stresses and probmlems as living animals that we refer to as human beings, we need a way to "let it out!" and since our 40 hr a week, 50 week a year, schedule doesn't allow us to visit hawaii as often as we'd like to, this is the reason we have the weekends.
some need to release more than others. some release by different means than others. personally i drink. i love it. it's great. my mon-thurs is spent daydreaming about where and what i'm going to drink that weekend. and if i'm not drinking, then i'm either sick as heck or dead. the latter hasn't happened yet but it's getting closer to becoming true. there's those who don't drink. and i respect their wishes, it's not for everyone. but it makes me wonder what is their release? how do they "let it out"
thru my years of educational teen movies/sitcoms/cartoons and of course the many wonderfully pointless hours of mtv trash has molded my ideas such as thus: substance release vs the sexual release.
the scene is set with the "main guy", he's trying to get the girl (perfect setup for a teen movie.) he's always gotta be the main guy cause girls are harder to get than drugs/alcohaul. then there's the sidekick. the one who needs no girl for his release, he's happy getting intoxicated. so the intresting story is the sober dude's escapades in attaining this perfect figure, not the sidekick's tribulations to finding a liquor store. all the while the "main guy's" sidekick is intoxicated and completely happy with life. he sees things completely simple and when he tells the "main guy" what he thinks the "main guy" has an epiphany. the only thing not set in our sidekick's world is that his homefry doesn't have the chick he so desires and can't stop thinking about her.
and that's it.
so who are you? i'm the sidekick... i'm content with myself catching a nice buzz and enjoying a simple release of the day's stresses and deadlines. i fear the people that will never take the role of the sidekick. they're going to spontaneously combust someday due to lack of release. and that's a bad thing for the sidekick, especially if he's wearing one of those new white shirts mom bought him. so for sidekicks sake, become a sidekick once in a while... hey it happens... movie reference: beginning of half baked (before dave chapelle became the "main guy" and quit the substance release and started the sexual release)
Wednesday, July 7, 2004
"the ones who entertain themselves are the ones we think are crazy, but they're the only ones that will always keep their sanity"
it's so common that if you're not doing something that takes up 100% of your concentration and someone asks what it is you're up to, you simply say nothing. but it's never nothing.
i feel that i can hold my own better than most, by entertaining myself with daydreams, flashbacks, and games. things i do readily while driving or sitting in traffic school... you know, when i'm "doing nothing"
for example i just walked for an hr to the stater brothers down the street. 30 mins each way. to buy stamps. and all the while i just looked around and kept myself entertained. i did have a phone call, but for the majority of the trip i was alone. and it's ok. being alone is not so bad, and being alone is for people who can entertain themselves.
i've seen countless people eating alone while talking on the phone. it's sickening. put down your phone, enjoy the view of whatever you got, enjoy the absence of conversation and company. we're so dependant on attention it's sick.
it's so common that if you're not doing something that takes up 100% of your concentration and someone asks what it is you're up to, you simply say nothing. but it's never nothing.
i feel that i can hold my own better than most, by entertaining myself with daydreams, flashbacks, and games. things i do readily while driving or sitting in traffic school... you know, when i'm "doing nothing"
for example i just walked for an hr to the stater brothers down the street. 30 mins each way. to buy stamps. and all the while i just looked around and kept myself entertained. i did have a phone call, but for the majority of the trip i was alone. and it's ok. being alone is not so bad, and being alone is for people who can entertain themselves.
i've seen countless people eating alone while talking on the phone. it's sickening. put down your phone, enjoy the view of whatever you got, enjoy the absence of conversation and company. we're so dependant on attention it's sick.
just the right time
driving in the car, you pick up your friend, and tell them "hey you gotta hear this song!" so you pop it in and pretty soon you're talking to your friend or someone calls or something happens where the focus of you two just isn't on the song. it's on something else. maybe you haven't hung out and need to catch up.
on the converse there's that perfect time. a song comes on the radio, after a while of driving, or after a night of partying, or just in the most unpredictable time... and what happens? you both feel the song. it's majic! driving down the street, not talking, just both bobbing your heads to the perfect song for the perfect moment. and thing is, these songs can't be predetermined. they have to be randomly selected, as in, running the random function on your ipod, and BAM it hits you with a song. the song makes your -tired and i wanna get up and stretch- body start dancing in it's uncomfy seat!
i've had tons of these moments, they're what make weekends great. but never thought to document one.
keep a look out for them, i hear they can show at anytime.
driving in the car, you pick up your friend, and tell them "hey you gotta hear this song!" so you pop it in and pretty soon you're talking to your friend or someone calls or something happens where the focus of you two just isn't on the song. it's on something else. maybe you haven't hung out and need to catch up.
on the converse there's that perfect time. a song comes on the radio, after a while of driving, or after a night of partying, or just in the most unpredictable time... and what happens? you both feel the song. it's majic! driving down the street, not talking, just both bobbing your heads to the perfect song for the perfect moment. and thing is, these songs can't be predetermined. they have to be randomly selected, as in, running the random function on your ipod, and BAM it hits you with a song. the song makes your -tired and i wanna get up and stretch- body start dancing in it's uncomfy seat!
i've had tons of these moments, they're what make weekends great. but never thought to document one.
keep a look out for them, i hear they can show at anytime.
Friday, June 25, 2004
from hot to not
strictly talking sexual attraction, when faced with the question of what is the most UN-sexually attractive thing i can think of, the answer is easy. without hesitation i picture curly thin grey hair, skin that looks like beef jerky that was just in the microwave, false teeth, that's right... old ladies that have psudo hunchbacks, rely on canes to walk with and that smell. the old person smell. maybe that's what recooked human flesh smells like who knows. actually i don't see many old people being that flexible, maybe they just can't srcub under their arms, or their back and they have not cleaned areas of their wiltering bodies for years. that could perpetuate some sort of foul odors.
the ironic point here is not that old chicks aren't hot. (and when i say old, i mean retirement home old) the point is that these girls used to be the object of every man's sexual desire. men of all ages drool over 18 year old college bound babes. that span of 18 to a rapidly increasing 25 years of age is the hottest any girl will be. (surgery not accounted for here) and after that they start their descend to the most sexually unattractive being on the planet.
this validates the "mean old lady" stereotype. why are they mean, because before men would go out of their way to be nice and helpful with alternative motives of getting some "beautiful girl attention". now men go way out of their way to avoid some "nasty old lady" interaction. this makes for some bitter old ladies.
imagine the shock. sure it's a slow process and if life treats you right and you get lucky in your years (as a woman) you've got an old husband that will always want you and will be giving you the much needed attention that women feed off of. to know that you'll (as a girl being born) go from cute little baby, to someone's middleschool crush, to then the object of every 15-55year old men's sexual fantasies, to then austin power's means of keeping his erection from popping -austin powers's reference ::margaret thathcher on a cold day, margaret thather on a cold day!!::
but now old men, somehow never lose their sex appeal. even when an extremely old man hits on a young lady, she says no, but in her mind it's not as firm of a no if the old lady was hitting on a young guy. if that ever happened it'd probably make a pretty disturbing scene (another movie reference) see ::van wilder::
strictly talking sexual attraction, when faced with the question of what is the most UN-sexually attractive thing i can think of, the answer is easy. without hesitation i picture curly thin grey hair, skin that looks like beef jerky that was just in the microwave, false teeth, that's right... old ladies that have psudo hunchbacks, rely on canes to walk with and that smell. the old person smell. maybe that's what recooked human flesh smells like who knows. actually i don't see many old people being that flexible, maybe they just can't srcub under their arms, or their back and they have not cleaned areas of their wiltering bodies for years. that could perpetuate some sort of foul odors.
the ironic point here is not that old chicks aren't hot. (and when i say old, i mean retirement home old) the point is that these girls used to be the object of every man's sexual desire. men of all ages drool over 18 year old college bound babes. that span of 18 to a rapidly increasing 25 years of age is the hottest any girl will be. (surgery not accounted for here) and after that they start their descend to the most sexually unattractive being on the planet.
this validates the "mean old lady" stereotype. why are they mean, because before men would go out of their way to be nice and helpful with alternative motives of getting some "beautiful girl attention". now men go way out of their way to avoid some "nasty old lady" interaction. this makes for some bitter old ladies.
imagine the shock. sure it's a slow process and if life treats you right and you get lucky in your years (as a woman) you've got an old husband that will always want you and will be giving you the much needed attention that women feed off of. to know that you'll (as a girl being born) go from cute little baby, to someone's middleschool crush, to then the object of every 15-55year old men's sexual fantasies, to then austin power's means of keeping his erection from popping -austin powers's reference ::margaret thathcher on a cold day, margaret thather on a cold day!!::
but now old men, somehow never lose their sex appeal. even when an extremely old man hits on a young lady, she says no, but in her mind it's not as firm of a no if the old lady was hitting on a young guy. if that ever happened it'd probably make a pretty disturbing scene (another movie reference) see ::van wilder::
Tuesday, June 22, 2004
what does bill know
so i've picked up a book from work, "Bill Cosby Fatherhood". i just snagged it. i like bill cosby. he's great. and well i guess whatever he writes is fun. so i'm reading this and i realize it's about being a father. shit! i'm not in a position to think about this...
i'm sure i could get a girl pregnant but then before the baby was born i'd have the girl sick of me and all intrested in another guy, and those two would have a 2-5 year relationship, i guess i'm the perfect rebound man, i do that to women. but that's not my point, this is another blog for another day.... while i'm reading this (and i have only finished 2 chapters) it is talking about dealing with a pregnant delicate wife and how crazy it is that a kid comes out of her "honey we had a lizard!" he says. cause new born babies are freaking nasty looking. well to the non-parents they do. all slimy and gross looking.
he keeps busting a point, why the hell do we do this to ourselves. he hasn't answered it yet. but why? kids suck money, time, energy. he hasn't talked about the reward.
but this talk has made me think. sometimes i want to live the life of these guys. spend money on a child, wife, house. is that not life? it seems as though life is very much just that and through our superior intelligence we have found other meanings of life. but simplify and life is basically to survive and keep on living. having babies is the way to keep the human race going. so that's what we live for. to experience raising someone or more than just one. to me sounds like fun, i'd love to have a great wife and a great house with a great car and a great job raising some great kids. life would be great. but yes, we're so superior that that's just not enough. i need more.i need to get some other satisfaction from life. how? i dunno. maybe bill cosby will tell me. he did run a funny show for like 17 seasons (not confirmed) he was made fun of on the simpsons, and if the simpsons made fun of you, you've made it! hey! i've found that missing thing in my mid life! i need to make it on to the simpsons!!!
so i've picked up a book from work, "Bill Cosby Fatherhood". i just snagged it. i like bill cosby. he's great. and well i guess whatever he writes is fun. so i'm reading this and i realize it's about being a father. shit! i'm not in a position to think about this...
i'm sure i could get a girl pregnant but then before the baby was born i'd have the girl sick of me and all intrested in another guy, and those two would have a 2-5 year relationship, i guess i'm the perfect rebound man, i do that to women. but that's not my point, this is another blog for another day.... while i'm reading this (and i have only finished 2 chapters) it is talking about dealing with a pregnant delicate wife and how crazy it is that a kid comes out of her "honey we had a lizard!" he says. cause new born babies are freaking nasty looking. well to the non-parents they do. all slimy and gross looking.
he keeps busting a point, why the hell do we do this to ourselves. he hasn't answered it yet. but why? kids suck money, time, energy. he hasn't talked about the reward.
but this talk has made me think. sometimes i want to live the life of these guys. spend money on a child, wife, house. is that not life? it seems as though life is very much just that and through our superior intelligence we have found other meanings of life. but simplify and life is basically to survive and keep on living. having babies is the way to keep the human race going. so that's what we live for. to experience raising someone or more than just one. to me sounds like fun, i'd love to have a great wife and a great house with a great car and a great job raising some great kids. life would be great. but yes, we're so superior that that's just not enough. i need more.i need to get some other satisfaction from life. how? i dunno. maybe bill cosby will tell me. he did run a funny show for like 17 seasons (not confirmed) he was made fun of on the simpsons, and if the simpsons made fun of you, you've made it! hey! i've found that missing thing in my mid life! i need to make it on to the simpsons!!!
Friday, June 18, 2004
expectations
a while ago my family from iran came over to visit for a few months. my grandma, aunt, and uncle. once again my father's family would all be under the same roof. (with the exception of my grandfather, but he has long since passed away.) i has seen my grandmother once before, as well as my aunt. my uncle i had never met before. this was an exciting time for me. the fact that they all speak farsi as a first language and their english is as broken as it can break makes it difficult to communicate. but having extended family around is something that i feel i have less of than most of my peers. last time my grandma came over i was in grade school. she brought me an allah. a gold neclace with a pendant that says allah in farsi and is commonly worn just as crosses are worn here. mom put it in a safe deposit box.
this time they were coming and my mom asked me what i was going to ask for. i remember the conversation in the kitchen. i don't want anything, i'm just stoked to meet the people that i'm realated to, all i remember from them is that i don't know how to communicate with them. seeing them is present enough. mom said, ok, but you know that you don't see them that much, and there's things over there that are cheaper and better quality like gold, jewelry, leather, and persian rugs, etc... all these things sound cool but i wasn't about to go and make a christmas list for my family that i've met once.
so then it dawned on me. i want something of value. something significant to our family. i wanted a family airloom! something i could say my grandfather who i never met that lived in a country on the other side of the world used or bought or had. that sounded way cooler than a silk rug or a gold tea set. so my order was set. i would have been fine with nothing and just seeing them since i don't even know them but feel that i should, and want to get to know them, to learn more about myself.
christmas time rolls around and i'm hoping for an old teapot, pocketwatch, shoe horn, pen, i dunno! something that my ancestors once held... it's my turn to open up the present. i've got two of them. one is a small jewelry box. the other is an even smaller one. wow. maybe i got someone's ring, and a neclace, or a bracelet. something cool must have come my way. man i'm glad i asked for something instead of just being content with seeing my family...
i open up the first package and i find a cheap, anchor blue style bracelet. my brother opens his up and it's an almost identical bracelet. i can't believe i let my imagination get the best of me again. but i did. the next box yielded a matching neclace. just from looking at it and holding it i could tell that this neclace would tarnish and discolor within a week of being worn.
now i'm let down. and i shouldn't be. i'm frustrated with how i allowed myself to go from excited and content, to expecting so much, to disapponted, all with a little conversation from my mom. i should have just kept to my guns. let her know that it's not important. and now i know. i'm going to have to start the family airloom thing cause nobody here has and if i'm going to have a say in this, my family will have family airlooms!! and that's final! time to buy some good quality nicknacks and set them up for preservation, this may be more expencive than i thought. oh well it's for the family!
a while ago my family from iran came over to visit for a few months. my grandma, aunt, and uncle. once again my father's family would all be under the same roof. (with the exception of my grandfather, but he has long since passed away.) i has seen my grandmother once before, as well as my aunt. my uncle i had never met before. this was an exciting time for me. the fact that they all speak farsi as a first language and their english is as broken as it can break makes it difficult to communicate. but having extended family around is something that i feel i have less of than most of my peers. last time my grandma came over i was in grade school. she brought me an allah. a gold neclace with a pendant that says allah in farsi and is commonly worn just as crosses are worn here. mom put it in a safe deposit box.
this time they were coming and my mom asked me what i was going to ask for. i remember the conversation in the kitchen. i don't want anything, i'm just stoked to meet the people that i'm realated to, all i remember from them is that i don't know how to communicate with them. seeing them is present enough. mom said, ok, but you know that you don't see them that much, and there's things over there that are cheaper and better quality like gold, jewelry, leather, and persian rugs, etc... all these things sound cool but i wasn't about to go and make a christmas list for my family that i've met once.
so then it dawned on me. i want something of value. something significant to our family. i wanted a family airloom! something i could say my grandfather who i never met that lived in a country on the other side of the world used or bought or had. that sounded way cooler than a silk rug or a gold tea set. so my order was set. i would have been fine with nothing and just seeing them since i don't even know them but feel that i should, and want to get to know them, to learn more about myself.
christmas time rolls around and i'm hoping for an old teapot, pocketwatch, shoe horn, pen, i dunno! something that my ancestors once held... it's my turn to open up the present. i've got two of them. one is a small jewelry box. the other is an even smaller one. wow. maybe i got someone's ring, and a neclace, or a bracelet. something cool must have come my way. man i'm glad i asked for something instead of just being content with seeing my family...
i open up the first package and i find a cheap, anchor blue style bracelet. my brother opens his up and it's an almost identical bracelet. i can't believe i let my imagination get the best of me again. but i did. the next box yielded a matching neclace. just from looking at it and holding it i could tell that this neclace would tarnish and discolor within a week of being worn.
now i'm let down. and i shouldn't be. i'm frustrated with how i allowed myself to go from excited and content, to expecting so much, to disapponted, all with a little conversation from my mom. i should have just kept to my guns. let her know that it's not important. and now i know. i'm going to have to start the family airloom thing cause nobody here has and if i'm going to have a say in this, my family will have family airlooms!! and that's final! time to buy some good quality nicknacks and set them up for preservation, this may be more expencive than i thought. oh well it's for the family!
Monday, June 14, 2004
insensitive
this past weekend i've realize just how insensitive i am. in all aspects of the sensitivity realm. it started friday night. picked up a friend from the airport. (sidenote, lax sucks. where the hell do you park to go pick someone up? i couldn't find it? so i drove in circles while gas prices remain at 2.30/gallon till my friend was on the curb. not a good system.) so i'm excited to see her and when i see her she's not so excited, although all week we've been talking about how fun this weekend will be. we drive for a second, do the normal small talk, i ease the clutch out and we start moving when all of a sudden she jumps and points out the window. "there's the guy!"
-ok, i'm lost. the guy? who's the guy.. fill me in here. turns out he was a 19 year old from somewhere going to iraq. his parents were crying cause he was leaving. she felt so compelled to get his email and somehow try to send him a care package of some sort. Ooohhh. she intentionally sat next to him so she could hear about this guys story. and i found myself stuck. this situation paralelled a situation which i have a great phobia of. girls crying. i blogged about it one day, how i don't know what to do and fear the situation where i'm supposed to comfort a crying girl. seems like there's no right way to do it so you end up screwed. SAME with this scenario. but i tried to let her know that it is not an easy thing to do, and i'm not man enough to do this role. heck when i was 19 i was seltered by the dorms and relyed on the guidance, wisdom, and money from mom and dad.
later that night, after a few drinks and a stupid shot of 151 i find her telling the story to a mutual friend. and she then says that when she told me the story i made her feel stupid for feeling that way. i thought i was being sensitive but i guess i'm just not.
then the next day i was in front of the bbq, grilling some carne asada and some pollo asado. the smoke was blowing right in my face and as my friend came to get some meat, he had to stand behind the grill, "how do you just stand there!! the smoke is killing me!?" i don't know, i just am. then he tells me to take a swig of his jack and coke that someone gave him. he claims it's way too strong. i have some and it's a bit on the coke side for me i tell him. this leads to a conversation about how when i say it's not spicy, it's usually too spicy for my friend.
what can i say? is it that i'm just insensitive, or have i been numbed in more than one way. who's to know? maybe i just hang out with more sensitive people than myself. is that better? what if i was the most sensitive? i'd be making the people around me feel as i do and i'd be the one dealing with hot food, incompassionate people, and smoke from bbq's.
in this case i want to say we have to use the "goldie locks" theorm. she's the girl who went to the three bears house. the too hot soup, too cold, just right. this is an in the middle. follows the goldie locks theorm. and i'm a bit on the too hot of soup. can someone blow on my soup? or better yet, get me an ice cube?
this past weekend i've realize just how insensitive i am. in all aspects of the sensitivity realm. it started friday night. picked up a friend from the airport. (sidenote, lax sucks. where the hell do you park to go pick someone up? i couldn't find it? so i drove in circles while gas prices remain at 2.30/gallon till my friend was on the curb. not a good system.) so i'm excited to see her and when i see her she's not so excited, although all week we've been talking about how fun this weekend will be. we drive for a second, do the normal small talk, i ease the clutch out and we start moving when all of a sudden she jumps and points out the window. "there's the guy!"
-ok, i'm lost. the guy? who's the guy.. fill me in here. turns out he was a 19 year old from somewhere going to iraq. his parents were crying cause he was leaving. she felt so compelled to get his email and somehow try to send him a care package of some sort. Ooohhh. she intentionally sat next to him so she could hear about this guys story. and i found myself stuck. this situation paralelled a situation which i have a great phobia of. girls crying. i blogged about it one day, how i don't know what to do and fear the situation where i'm supposed to comfort a crying girl. seems like there's no right way to do it so you end up screwed. SAME with this scenario. but i tried to let her know that it is not an easy thing to do, and i'm not man enough to do this role. heck when i was 19 i was seltered by the dorms and relyed on the guidance, wisdom, and money from mom and dad.
later that night, after a few drinks and a stupid shot of 151 i find her telling the story to a mutual friend. and she then says that when she told me the story i made her feel stupid for feeling that way. i thought i was being sensitive but i guess i'm just not.
then the next day i was in front of the bbq, grilling some carne asada and some pollo asado. the smoke was blowing right in my face and as my friend came to get some meat, he had to stand behind the grill, "how do you just stand there!! the smoke is killing me!?" i don't know, i just am. then he tells me to take a swig of his jack and coke that someone gave him. he claims it's way too strong. i have some and it's a bit on the coke side for me i tell him. this leads to a conversation about how when i say it's not spicy, it's usually too spicy for my friend.
what can i say? is it that i'm just insensitive, or have i been numbed in more than one way. who's to know? maybe i just hang out with more sensitive people than myself. is that better? what if i was the most sensitive? i'd be making the people around me feel as i do and i'd be the one dealing with hot food, incompassionate people, and smoke from bbq's.
in this case i want to say we have to use the "goldie locks" theorm. she's the girl who went to the three bears house. the too hot soup, too cold, just right. this is an in the middle. follows the goldie locks theorm. and i'm a bit on the too hot of soup. can someone blow on my soup? or better yet, get me an ice cube?
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