are you listening?

a bone to pick

2006-11-01T23:49:00.000-08:00

um, damnit?

so you mean to tell me, i can not post a word or a thought in 6 months, and no one cares?

i HAVE to tell you, i find this terribly disconcerting. but roy said i should start up again. so here i am. i'm currently in mississippi, an island unto myself, and there's so much going on (and NOT going on) right now, that i don't have the 5 hours of patience it will take to properly vent all that is pissing me off right now.

not that you care, because... need i remind you... nobody seems to have noticed. apparently the answer is "no, i am NOT listening." so i'll probably either change the name of this blog to something else soon or just start a fresh one that makes no reference of whether or not it's being received.

sincerely,
a frustratedlonelyisolated black man in mississippi.

MISSISSIPPI!

cylinder misfire

2006-05-01T15:44:00.000-07:00

I'm not mad at anyone in particular. It's like if someone gets trampled to death in a crowd stampede. Which pair of feet gets charged with murder? I don't know. My guess is it would be ruled an accident. such can be said of my belated weekend birthday soiree. A friend offered to coordinate it for me, so I gave him a list of people to invite. I didn't want him to have to make too many calls, so i capped the list at 50, trying to eliminate those most likely not to show up.

As it were, I opted to let him handle everything and resisted the desire to intervene and control things. Something went wrong though. Some cylinder misfired, because no one on that list except for my friend who coordinated, his wife, and another couple they brought showed up. I don't necessarily consider it a failure because I had a raucously good time, laughing it up over pizza and cheesecake until well after midnight.

Still I had to reconcile what went wrong. In trying to understand what went down, I polled some people and apparently, there were plenty factors. They hadn't received the e-mail invitations. A few people received calls. Those who got the invitations had previous engagements, obligation to work, or otherwise couldn't make it. I'm notorious for never allowing enough time to plan a party, and always delegating that task to someone else because I'm just not good at it. My friend had a master plan to have the party function as a live version of The Amazing Race. He was pretty disappointed that he didn't get to implement his brilliant idea. I for one was interested in it. Seeing as I've never watched the television show, I thought it'd be fun to be introduced to the premise in real life first.

A little exception to the rule. There were a few people who said they would be there, and just straight up flaked. If I was gonna pin the murder wrap on anyone, it would be them. No-shows who didn't know are excused. No-shows who knew and couldn't make it but notified are excused. All others are to be fined, jailed, and will not be permitted to pass "Go" or collect $200.

That's the inner child in me with his bottom lip poked out demanding vengeance. I don't actually plan to hold any ill towards anyone for failing to re-arrange their schedules around a poorly planned event. But this is a good reminder that friends are made of people, and people is a notoriously unreliable material to build anything on.

My bad. The charges are dropped. All detainees may go free.

women & trust

2006-04-28T21:59:00.000-07:00

Lys gave a lengthy digital discourse on her blog about how in men, she prizes total honesty above all, she posed the question "what is the most important quality in a woman to you?"

Good question. I had to think about it for a minute, because honesty is really important. But I know scores of honest, virtuous, beautiful females (just acquaintances, people, I am neither a player, nor do I "crush a lot"). Honesty, virtue, and beauty notwithstanding... I'm not chasing after them.

My answer was TRUST.

Trust allows a man to be vulnerable when necessary. Vulnerability requires that, for all intents and purposes, guards not just be let down a bit, but abandoned and replaced with a confidence that the woman you're with has your best interests at heart, shares your values (read: "the two of us agree on what things are important to us"), and is, as my friend Kenny says, "committed to your committments".

This is important to me because I know I'm a very emotional guy. And "emotional guy" is not an oxymoron. It's just not always prevalent, and it does require some adjustments to the rules.

Previously I've allowed myself to lose all control and go flying in the wind with the first girl who turned my head and took to leading me around by the nostrils. I found that the ride itself wasn't all that much fun, and she dropped me off in the middle of nowhere, with no ride home. Not cool. So after I healed up real good, I put my guard up and it stayed that way. I stopped trusting because I didn't ever want to make any more such painful mistakes again.

Having that Y chromosome often demands that you keep on the offensive to forge ahead all the time. If you're by yourself, you also have to keep on the defensive as well. When your goal is to vini, vidi, and vici, you don't have time to risk losing it all by being vulnerable.

Trust helps you to be strong knowing that your woman will support you and back you up whenever there is trouble. There arises a problem when you can't be sure that the woman you're involved with or considering getting involved with is motivated primarily by greed, lust, or just a need for affirmation from an object of their affection.

I believe men are supposed to give to women. Still, just like agriculture, if you plant a certain crop that saps a particular nutrient from the ground without replenishing it, the ground is no longer a source of life. It's no more good to anyone else. You'll need to leave it fallow and unplanted for a long period of time before it renews itself.

Trust is intimate... you can't just do it with anybody and everybody. That's actually quite dangerous. And if you would easily give your trust to anyone, it wouldn't be worth much. For me, trust is only for a woman who would put God first above all... a woman who would be strong enough to leave me if I didn't do the same.

As for me? I'm single, but I don't have to be. I'm in California. Beautiful women are everywhere. Praise God almighty, it's a great place to be. But if all you needed was "beautiful", then you could move to California and "trust" every lovely flower you see. I suppose, since there is so much "beautiful" to see... now it's the norm to me. More is required to be exceptional.

I'll always be electrified by a beautiful face and soft curves, but I will never be taken over by that alone. Why not? There is obvious pleasure to be had by lowering your standard just a little in specific areas. But there's a lot that I want. And because I can personally attest to instances like this where it works just the way God said it could, I won't be happy and at peace if I don't set myself up to get that life.

I've seen examples of how good the symbiosis can be when men and women get together. It's like a dance. You may not be on the same rhythm with every other couple, but as long as you both keep in step with each other, it's beautiful.

"swift as a windsong
you sang the music of an honest bird
i waited for some contradiction
but truth was ringing in your every word
and every moment since then
the one thing i can tell
is that i belong with you and no one else

lay down those heavy burdens
on the banks of this riverdeep
know that every piece of your past
is always someplace safe with me
and there's no room for judgment
i want you as yourself
'cause i belong with you and no one else

we have both been broken
bent into painful shapes
we almost let those old fears
carry over and get in our way
every struggle just makes our love
get stronger than it was yesterday

so here we are now
ain't it lucky we survived at all
searching for self in separate rivers
and end up in the same waterfall
and when we're gray and wiser
the story i will tell
is that i belong with you and no one else
i belong with you and no one else
i belong with you

and no one else."
- amel larrieux, "no one else"

and then if you can remember

2006-04-23T23:20:00.000-07:00

I was talking to my aunt this week. I need to call her more often. She reminds me that I wasn't born into the wrong family. She often tells me stories of the childhood she and my mom shared growing up with parents that loved them, but knew neglected them. She remembers these stories and after their effects have started to erode away, she can laugh at a lot of them. Between all the seemingly endless instances of trauma and tragedy, she remembers a lot of good times.

So I was on the phone furrowing my brows at this... “I know I had good times with my mom and her side of the family... but I can't really remember them.” I remember ridicule from older cousins. I remember my grandmother's house being overrun with scores of glowering relatives I didn't know who would get offended and harangue me if I took too long acknowledging them once I entered. I don't remember many good things!

It reminds me of when I broke up with my first serious girlfriend. I was mad as hell and didn't want to hear her voice, see her face, or have anyone mention her name around me. I couldn't remember anything good about the times we spent together. Then months later after the heat of my anger began to dissipate, it's almost as if those most pleasant memories started popping up again like wildflowers springing up from the seemingly lifeless carpet of soot after a forest fire. Not long prior, I might have sworn up and down that said moments never happened.

I'm listening to Anita Baker's Rapture album right now. I love Anita Baker. But oddly enough, I've been completely disenchanted with listening to her for years now. I'm almost certain that it's because I associate her music with my mother. When I was a child, I can remember my mother playing and playing and playing her 45rpm "Angel". And then a few years later when Rapture was released in 1986, it was a permanent fixture in the house.

My hope is that now that the smoke and ashes, the clouds and fog is clearing in my head, that maybe I'll remember something positive from then. True, I did spend much more time with my grandparents than with my mother. But she wasn't an absentee. I just need to remember some more things that made me smile.

Ooh! I got it! Here's one. My mom used to take us (and whatever cousins lived with us at the time) to the drive thru theatre to see movies. I remember back in 1990, she took us to see Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves and during the credits while Bryan Adams' "Everything I Do (I Do It For You)" was playing, she told me how my father always treated her so well and told her he would die for her. I remember feeling really happy then.

Now, I'm quite certain my mother feels plenty different about her childhood than my aunt does. Though similarly traumatized, my mother seemed to have compartmentalized it away more. She seems to react with mild disdain whenever I begin to talk about the past. I'm sure it's unsettling for her. But I hope she can begin to inch past it. After the house burning down and confronting old hurts and what not, I feel so much more free. I hope she can do the same and follow suit. I think I'm going somewhere with this. I think.

twenty-seven

2006-04-21T20:09:00.000-07:00

i'm a bit late acknowledging it, but i just turned 27 on monday. i think i was probably born around 9pm at night, so on the exact moment i was in the company of 5 of my closest friends laughing it up at p.f. chang's chinese bistro. i was pretty worried for a minute that no one would show up. and then i was a little concerned that only 5 people showed up. but then i realized that these 5 people were the main ones i wanted to see! (there are others who i wished could have been there, but they obtained permission to be absent in advance. lol)

well, i don't feel much different. i don't think i look different. but that's because i see myself every day and don't notice the gradual change.

but i do notice some kinda change.

like the fact that i've been more interested in things that regard parenting and fatherhood than before, and reading books on homeownership and money management... and actually implementing the tactics. i'm thinking about career and future and blah blah blah. this is all devolving into a blurred SecureHorizons Life Insurance commercial.

did i mention that i can't stop listening to artists like take 6 and bobby mcferrin?

there was a time when i rejected that as grown folks music. now, i'm growner, and i'm lovin' it like whoa... where have you been all my life.

nonetheless, there's always been a part of me that likes to jump up and down and cheer when he gets excited, that gets disappointed when someone breaks there word, and that always wants to believe the best even when its looking like things are not hot. that's my inner child, i suppose.

i know other people who are "growner" and still have their inner child. :)

i think i'd want to date and marry someone like that where we can go to each other when we don't really want to be adults that day. the little girl in her can walk over next door and ask the little boy in me if i can come out and play. and i'll always say yes.

at least i hope i can always say yes. 27 and counting.

after we have left our homes

2006-04-16T01:13:00.000-07:00

“when can we start over?”

those are the full lyrics to mute math's "after we have left our homes" interlude. of course, their wait-weary lament has hurricane katrina as its context. thanks be to God, i can't claim such a disaster as the reason for my own lamenting. if you recall me blogging recently that the house where i grew up... the house my grandfather built... the only house that has ever been home to me... burned down. it's gone now. it's so gone.

i went to bakersfield this weekend to celebrate both my and my sister's birthdays. of course, while i was there, i had to see what happened to my home. it wasn't pretty. very little of what i knew remained. the house's warm yellow has been replaced with a cold mint color. the awnings have been taken off of the front. the flower beds bulldozed away. the grass unkempt and wild. the front is about all that's intact. the inside was all burned away. the fire must have destroyed a lot. i haven't seen the house or even been down the street in nearly two years.

it's been through a lot. even before the fire, the character had been slowly stripped away from the house. one family member's dispute with a neighbor resulted in property lines being reevaluated and an ugly fence driven through the center of what used to be a second driveway under a carport. it's not the same. it itself is so far from home now, that i can hardly hurt for its demise.

“there's nothin' else to know
just let it go
yeah, we'll do without it somehow
the world's gone
don't think about it
'cause life is short
we'll do without it
oh we can move on forward, don't worry
the best we've known is yet to come
we can move on forward, don't worry
the worst won't get the best of us.”
- mute math, “without it”

i can also not blame myself for it. factors far outside my own control led to this. some things disappeared from the house as soon as my grandfather passed away. someone's drug rampage resulted in most of the furniture in the house being sold away. someone else's tragic lack of money management put the house in debt. someone else's financial pressures led to it being sold outside the family. from there, i don't know if it received much tender loving care.

“i see our fate
i see our past
and all the things
that could not last
it's heavy on these eyes
frozen as i hold this photograph
it's all we're left that's of any worth
and it's so much more than a thousand words
now in this frame is our only way we can endure

i pictured
you and me
always
and in this photograph
we're safe

all i have
in my head
and all the words
i wish i'd said
sentimental thoughts
are overwhelming me again
as i stare through a lens of tears
a thought remains of those fallen years
now in the frame, memories i held to persevere

i pictured
you and me
always
and in this photograph
we're safe
coping
with this loss has broken me
and i'm just hoping
things are all as they should be”
- mute math, “picture”

really, for all intents and purposes, this is a death in the family, but i'm not sad. a lot like when my grandfather passed away, i was glad that the suffering was over. in this case, it's my suffering. now that it's over, it doesn't depress me when i'm in the city and i drive too close to my old neighborhood.

for several hours this weekend, i just drove up and down the streets remembering what i can remember. like i've never really stopped thinking of my grandfather. probably never will. but lately, instead of grieving me, the memories only make me smile.

“a place in time
still belongs to us
stays preserved
in my mind
in the memories
there is solace

never too far away
i won't let time erase
one bit of yesterday
'cause i have learned that
nobody can take your place
though we could never be
i'll keep you close to me
always remember
love.”
- mariah carey, “never too far”

i climbed through an open window in the front and looked inside. the house has been completely gutted. there were no walls, but they had already started to rebuild. only wooden framework was in place. the roof was new. i walked through and tried to remember where everything was. where everything would go if it wasn't just a shell. little clues triggered things here and there, but little of anything was as it used to be.

still.

when i closed my eyes that night. i could remember everything. the cut of the carpet, flower shaped waste baskets, the sign that hung over the office, the smell of fresh soil in the morning when my grandparents tended to the garden, fights we had, games we played, things we built, pictures we kept. a whole life.

as i walked through the hallways as empty as anything, i called out to God. and i made a request that i know he will answer. since i know it's far too late to get back what i used to have. but i asked him to give me a home that no one can take away from me. some place i can call home. someplace i will protect. someplace that's mine.

in the meantime, i remember so much.
of everything.

at least those are mine.

and no one can take those away from me.

don't make me come back there

2006-03-29T23:49:00.000-08:00

the last couple days have been productive, but not without their frustration. i'll say and say again that i love what i do. i love being able to help people, and i love being able to make a living.

as of the last couple days though, it's seemed as if every project i'm involved in got simultaneously unsettled and every hour my phone was ringing off the hook. ringing early in the morning, and ringing late into the night. every e-mail a new problem, every text message a new question, every phone call a new complaint. it's getting so whenever i hear the phone i just want to yell at it and say "what the [your choice] do you want now? i'm empty!"

it's starting to blend together and sound like the gaggled murmurings of a backseat full of little fidgeting children. meanwhile, i'm the aggravated parent in the front seat clinging to the steering wheel with that one famous forehead vein throbbing as i threaten, "all of you better shut up right now or i will turn this car around and go home! don't make me come back there!"

of course whenever i have to complain about my business, i think of what kipper jones once told me (really nice guy i got to talk to once who co-wrote a lot of the hits on brandy's first album). he said "i know how it feels when your phone is ringing off the hook, and i know what it feels when that phone stops ringing."

it's a stark contrast. i mean, right now, i'd like to duct tape everybody's mouth shut 'cause there's just more going on right now than i've been able to comfortably float through. and yet, if there wasn't so much going on, i'd have to spend more hours working my $8/hr fallback job and i'd be making less money even when it's at its best.

the upshot is, i could barely get to sleep last night entertaining myself with logo ideas for my dream website called SockYouInYoFace.com. and in this dream, whenever somebody pissed you off? you wouldn't have to argue with them or listen to reason or hear out their side of the story. no, you could just go report them to SockYouInYoFace.com, pay a nominal fee of course, and someone would promptly show up to the person's house within 1-2 business days and sock them in they face.

i happen to think it's an ingenious idea. don't you?

you don't have to say you're sorry

2006-03-22T00:37:00.000-08:00

“you don't have to say you're sorry
we all make mistakes, i've made my share
you don't have to say you're sorry
i don't need those words to know you care
you don't have to say you're sorry
because we're both too old it's true
well, they say that when you love someone
forgiveness is the rule
you don't have to say you're sorry...
but i sure do wish
you would.”
- vanessa williams, “you don't have to say you're sorry”

i know i've mentioned previously that one of my biggest gripes is that my mother never apologized for the places where her parenting fell short. i resented pretty deeply that she seemed to think she deserved 100% of the proper due even though she wasn't present and accountable for 100% of the time. after the last row she and i had a couple of months ago, i had largely had it. i was tired of trying, tired of begging, tired of working so hard to repair the past. i was all out of juice, so i quit. i spoke when necessary and when she wasn't around, i let it be. and then the turnaround happened.

one of the things my mother has always been exceedingly good at is interpreting dreams. and just last night i had a notably unpleasant one. i woke up rather shaken, so i called her and explained what it was and told her what of it the holy spirit had revealed to me. of course, it was something that traced back to my childhood. i don't know what rang differently for mom, but for the first time i can confirm solidly, she apologized.

not literally, but moreso in a roundabout way. roundabout enough for me. hell. it was better than i thought i'd ever get 'cause i had resigned that i would never get anything. but finally. she expressed regret that she wasn't around for my sister and i as much as she should have been. that it really wasn't the best thing to be working all the time. that it would have been better to be around to shield us from some of the influences that put dampers on our respective childhoods.

when she seemed to take a hardline stating things like "i did the best i could", it was like she was saying that if it wasn't better, that was just too bad. it burned me up because it seemed like she didn't care that some of that was hard on us. harder on my sister in ways that affected her life... harder on me in ways that only seem to be affecting me just now.

if the relationship between my mom and sister was ever out of order, i'm sure it's together now. as for my mother and i? there's still some work to be done. i was writing a song called “we can work it out”, guised so that it could apply to any "couple" that's on the rocks, but for my purposes, it's about my mom. however, after coming to a point where i gave up, i couldn't really proceed on the song in good faith. i mean, how can you encourage other people to "work it out" when you can't "work it out" yourself.

God was in the details though. i think he knew i tried as hard as i could. having done all i could to stand, i stood therefore. but i stood at a distance... far, far away. God knows when we're at the end of our ropes. i say “we can work it out”, but our ability is limited. he knows though. how to work it out. when we can't.

before kings

2006-03-16T15:13:00.000-08:00

"Do you see a man skilled in his work? He will serve before kings; he will not serve before obscure men." -- Proverbs 22:29 (NIV)

If you're wondering why I've been MIA recently, it's because I've been unbelievably deluged with inviting opportunities as of late. About three of them to be specific, all involving people I've long admired.

Amel Larrieux
I just got finished doing the CD packaging for Amel Larrieux's new album Morning releasing April 25th. I can't give out any details about it, but it's been a great opportunity for me. Besides the fact that the album will be the highest profile CD release I've ever worked on, and it will look great on my resume. Artistically, Amel Larrieux is one of my highest regarded influences both as a singer and as a songwriter. As a matter of course, her husband who produces all of her music and co-writes with her is also someone I look up to. It is he who I've worked most closely with. To be able to interact with him about both music and art has been surreal.

Kenny Lattimore & Chante Moore
Beyond that, I'm currently preparing to do official websites for both Kenny Lattimore and his wife Chante Moore. This pair of solo sites will definitely be getting attention for both of them, as they are releasing a follow-up duet album this year called Uncovered. Even moreso than his music, I've admired Kenny Lattimore himself for years. He's always positioned himself to someone with values and a really good heart. I chanced to meet him while on a field trip to a television taping while in high school and he by chance ended up being one of the early people to encourage my singing in public. Years later, we've come full circle and ended up going to the same church, singing together on the praise team too. Who would have thought. He's just an ordinary guy with an extraordinary gift, but it still remains... I count it an honor that he would recognize my talent as standout. He could pay anybody to work for him, but he chose me. Therefore? Wow.

Adam LaClave & Club Of The Sons
I have long believed that God closed doors to me regarding music, knowing that I would have abandoned my academic career to be involved in what I feel is my true passion. It seems only befitting that the closer I get to graduation, the more these previously closed doors begin to open... and how. It appears that I'm going to go on tour as a keyboardist/support vocalist with Adam LaClave's new side project Club Of The Sons.

Adam was one of the founding members of my favorite band Earthsuit, which also gave rise to the band Mute Math, which most people know I'm a die-hard fan of. Not to mention, like Amel Larrieux, I've spent countless hours absorbing his lyrics and folding elements of his vocal style into my own. To be invited to play and sing with him is unbelievable, and to wit, I can still hardly believe this is actually happening.

His original plan was to finish recording the Club Of The Sons album and then (including me) take the supporting slot on Mute Math's spring tour. The problem with that was I'd have had to postpone my last semester of school and thereby my graduation for a whole year to be on the tour. Unfortunately for the tour, but fortunately for me, the plans to tour with Mute Math had to be scrapped because of delays in the recording process. However, I still get to be in the band and graduate on time as planned.

I spoke with Adam last week and he was telling me that the run of tour dates begins June 1st, the day after my graduation. It's more than ironic that this door officially opens after I get my degree. God is large, God is alive, and God is able. Everytime I begin to forget these things, he proves himself to me over and over again.

Realistically, there are still plenty of people who would likely not give a rip about this joyous news I have. Nevermind her Grammy nomination, they'd say "Who's Amel Larrieux?" If you didn't familiarize yourself with R&B in the 90's, you might say "Kenny Lattimore? Mmmmm, doesn't ring a bell." and outside of the Christian music kingdom, scores would reply "Earthsuit? Adam LaClave? Club Of The Sons? Never heard of 'em."

Apart from the fact that I think they're all missing out on some top notch artistry, such opinions don't affect me at all. I know how deep seated my admirations are for them. I know how impactful their contributions have been to me. They have always been kings to me, and always will be.

"In a well-furnished kitchen there are not only crystal goblets and silver platters, but waste cans and compost buckets--some containers used to serve fine meals, others to take out the garbage. Become the kind of container God can use to present any and every kind of gift to his guests for their blessing." -- 2 Timothy 2:20 (The Message)

without it

2006-03-04T00:13:00.000-08:00

“the world's gone, don't think about it / 'cause life is short, we'll do without it / they say the road is long, don't think about it / 'cause life is short, we'll do without it
we can move on forward, don't worry / the best we've known is yet to come / we can move on forward, don't worry / the worst won't get the best of us
so memories are crippling / don't let the disease bring us down / there's nothing else to know, just let it go / yeah, we'll do without it somehow / though the world is gone, we'll carry on / we'll do without it / we'll do without it...” - mute math, “without it”

my mom called and confirmed (via another relative who walked through the premises) that the damage is as bad as they thought. the very front of the house is intact. from the street, it doesn't look like anything is wrong. the rest of the house is... as previously stated, gone.

i never had any hope of being able to go back, so it's not as bad as it seems. i'm not falling from as far up as i could have. so as much as it hurts, it could have been worse. more devastating. i'd like to have the luxury of stopping to mourn it all again, but i really am busy these days. i'm going to have to shuttle on and watch that (like so many other things in life) get infinitely smaller as i get farther and farther away from it.

i don't like loss. no one does, but what am i gonna do now? if i could unchar that place, i might. (i'm still not sure how glad i am that it's gone.) i'll have to do without that. mom has also soldiered on, uninterested in any further cans of open worms from me. she may never apologize or even express any regret about the past. i really wanted that acknowledgement. looks like i shall have to do without that too. all i have is what's in my hand, and that's as material as everything else that's blow away with the wind.

it's all finite. it's vanity. all of it is vanity. props to ecclesiastes. if i built my own monument and marvelled at it, i'd work hard all my life and then what happens to it when i die? it gets handed over to someone else. they may or may not take care of it. my monument may or may not survive. people may or may not remember me from the reminders that i plan to leave. God may see fit that nothing i do has any scrap of permanence to it. it's all outside of my control really. and that's my least favorite place for anything to be. and yet, i'm in His hands, at his mercy, which is the safest place to be. i'll take the latter over the former.

“the safest place in the whole wide world / is in the will of God / though trials be great / and the way seems hard / it's in the will of God / it may be on the battle front / or in the valley low / but wherever it may be / if God says, go? / go.” - karen clark sheard, “the will of God”

gone

2006-02-27T01:57:00.000-08:00

it's gone.

yesterday, my cousin e-mailed me to let me know that the house that i grew up in in bakersfield burned down to the ground.

my papa built that house with his own hands. it stood for more than 40 years. my father walked through that house. our family gatherings happened at that house. more than half my life was spent in that house. it was the backdrop for so many things that i remember. things i really enjoyed remembering. and it's gone now.

secretly, ever since the house was sold outside of the family, i hoped to get rich somehow and buy that house back. maybe even buy back the whole neighborhood of a couple blocks and get it back the way it was. take care of it like anything you love.

what i really wanted was to buy my home back. that was the only place in my hometown that i considered to be home. i love my mom, and my mom loves me. of course, her home has been open to me and what's hers is mine. but that place that burned down to the ground? i took ownership of it. that was mine. when life became hard, that was the place of comfort that i would want to go back to in my mind.

even though the house itself was no longer a home once my grandfather passed away, it was nice for to be able to go there and see furniture in place where i always remembered it being. cousins moved in and out for a few years. some took better care of it than others. i had to divorce it from my heart after awhile though.

not two or three christmases ago, some family was living there and somehow all the life and love seemed drained from it. no lights were on anywhere inside or outside the house except in the couple rooms where people were staying. the house wasn't the hallways were cold. the family room was empty. the kitchen was dead. i cried then because i think i knew it was over. it was like seing someone you love dying and not being able to do anything about it. and that was the last time i was inside the house.

the house was put up for sale. someone else bought it, changed the color, took off the awnings, and did whatever else they wanted to it. i didn't ever actually see it in that state. after a certain point, it just hurt to much to drive down the street. and see the architectural equivalent of having the ex-girlfriend you couldn't hold on to dating some other man who isn't treating her right anyway.

my heart sank a little when i heard that it burned down. it grieved me like any other death. but at the same time, i was relieved. almost in the same way that, though heavily grieved, i was relieved when it was official that the my papa's (and thereby my own) suffering was over. and i find it more ironic that the house burned down on the exact anniversary date of my grandfather's death, 7 years later.

i think i avoided bakersfield in total because it hurt to see that place i loved in ruins. but it's over now. i hope no one was hurt in the blaze. the paper says there was about $50,000 of damage done. i hope they don't rebuild the place. i'd like them to level it and maybe build something else, maybe not. i don't think you can get more closure than this. so now, maybe i can work on establishing myself a home that no one can take from me.

it's alright.

a few more miles

2006-02-26T20:38:00.000-08:00

i was sitting in the art department counselor's office on friday taking care of some paperwork having to do with graduation, and i got an odd feeling of deja vu while looking out of the venetian blinds in her office. it was like being back in 1997 taking care of paperwork to start school, and it really came to me that i'm almost done. there are only a few more miles to go. a few classes, a handful of assignments in each, and i'm done. i don't know what comes after that, but i'm not terribly concerned. there's just an interesting feeling one gets at the beginning of things and at the end of things. not quite sure what it is, it's part triumphant, a little regretful, poignant for sure.

clarity

2006-02-23T02:54:00.000-08:00

why such a high price? why the drive? why am i always trying to understand everything around me? like a kid exploring the world around him where everything is new and foreign... they want to pick up everything. see it, touch it, taste it, tear it up, put it back together, and move on to the next curious object.

even now i'm amazed at the process of enlightmentment. when the light comes on and you say "oh! now i get it." they used to let me and my sister and my cousins watch the color purple as kids. that movie's pretty serious, pretty complicated and dramatic. i was six years old then. i don't know who told them that was a good idea, but i couldn't tell the difference. for all i knew, the movie was a comedy, 'cause we all cracked up laughin' at shug avery declarin' that celie "sho' is ugly" while lookin' like all that be damned herself.

i got into my teenage years and could finally begin to wrap my head around more of what was goin' on. i realized that the film had comedic parts, but beginning to know what's going on in the world brought some color to a movie that was largely black and white to me. of course, when you're a teenager, you learn a lot, really fast. it makes your head spin and by the time things settle (if they do at all), you think you know everything probably because you just learned three times as much in the latter half of your life-span as you had in the first half. you figure that was the finale and there's not much more of "it" that you have to "get".

well, here i am about to slide into 27 years old. and i just bought the color purple on dvd. un-cut, un-censored, and un-like the version i was used to seeing on TV as a teenager or even on VHS as a largely oblivious child. the film itself hasn't changed. everything is just as it always was, but i understand so much more about the nature of people and what causes folks to do things.

now as an adult, i watch the movie and i check for motive. why did this happen? what did mister have to do with shug? how did miss sophia manage to reconcile with harpo after he obviously had kids with squeak and how are they all paling to around together now like nothing's wrong? not that the answer to any of those questions unravel the meaning of life, but those questions sure weren't there the last time i watched it.

as a matter of fact, there were so many new questions and observations and little crumbs and whisps of data that i was just absolutely unable to perceive before that it's almost like a brand new film to me.

i understand a little more this time around.

can you remember when you were just
6 years old
with a trusting heart accepting
everything you're told
anyone bigger must have been right
even if they were wrong
you'd take what was given
you didn't know better
all your little mind could comprehend
was goodness and truth
even when the baddest things were
being done to you
ain't it a shame how you pay
for your innocence
when you take what was given
you didn't know any better 'bout
loving, cheatin, people leaving
dying, living, losin and forvigin
growin, sayin no and, being who you are

What about the time when you became
16 years old
with an unsure heart believing
some of what you're told
wanting to be someone different,
but there's pressure to be the same
so you'd take what was given
you didn't know better
all that you could think about was
what you should or should not do
every single insecurity was magnified for you
and suddenly you began to feel all the contradictions
but you'd take what was given
you didn't know better 'bout
loving, cheatin, people leaving
dying, living, losin and forvigin
growin, sayin no and, being who you are
Now here you are a little older than before
you really been through it and you might go through some more
but if there's one precious thing you've learned,
it's that you can't just take what is given,
cuz now you know better

- Mondo Grosso featuring Amel Larrieux, "Now You Know Better"
(CLICK HERE TO DOWNLOAD THE SONG. THE LINK'S ONLY GOOD FOR 7 DAYS, SO IF IT EXPIRES, JUST LET ME KNOW, 'CAUSE I THINK EVERYBODY SHOULD HEAR THIS SONG.)

all this said, it's amazing how i'm a little more at peace now. i understand a little bit more of what's going on in my world. and i feel more at ease. more in control. there's something generally discomforting about feeling like your world is spinning haphazardly by no rules into nowhere. you can breathe easier when you just have a half an idea of what's going on.

if you love me like you say

2006-02-23T00:01:00.000-08:00

i don't know when to give up. maybe i'm not supposed to. but it's not like i stopped wanting to know. or my curiosity was sated by just going without an answer for so long. but i believe (and maintain) that my relationship with my mother is strained because in a sense, by nature of being a working mom, an absentee one. the way i understand it, she worked because she loved us (my sister and i) so much. she didn't want us to be on welfare. she didn't want us to grow up poor the way she did. that was probably priority number one.

i told her one of the reasons i rebelled against her so hard as a teen is because i feel like she positioned herself as my enemy. always so haughty and obstinate. we rarely agreed on much and there was hardly a stronger purveyor of feelings of being misunderstood. i heard her say she loved me, but for all intents and purposes, i sure feel like i could have done without that love.

i never saw her working. i never saw her sacrificing. sometimes it seemed like i almost never saw her at all. what a catch-22 that her absence was due to her love for me, and yet communicated to me the opposite.

me and my mother had a confrontation on the phone a couple weeks ago, and in her usual modus operandi, she excused herself from the head and brunt of what i was concerned with. instead countering that she loves me, that has always loved me, that i have no idea how much she loves me, and that i may never understand... maybe when i get older.

i suggested to her "we should read a book." before i could follow up that sentence, she answered, "i don't need to read any books. you just need to..." and of course she proceeded telling me what she thinks i need to do. i'm so used to tuning out things that i've heard before, that i don't remember what she said at all.

i was gonna suggest she read the five love languages. why? because apparently all of her oh-so-all-encompassing larger-than-i-can-understand love is, albeit undoubtedly genuine, also sadly, frequently, and tragically miscommunicated. why should you put so much work into all this "love" if its net effect is almost nothing? that's an over generalization. i don't think her love is "in vain". but it just seems like such a waste and a contradiction no less. that lady has always been the conservative one who taught me her ways of making every resource count... not doing double work... doing what's necessary to get the most you can out of your time... your money... your ability. why not your love?

it just seems to me that if she loves me like she says she does, it shouldn't be so hard for me to perceive it.

it reminds me of her own account of her and her mother's interactions. she said that her mother never verbally said she loved her, but she always knew she did. or maybe she said it when she got older, while she was sick and my mom was taking care of her. i think that's the case. but how momentous and memorable and impactful would it have been if grandma had really brought the message home for my mom before she died?

apparently though, my mom finds no fault in that. at least it seems that way. i on the other hand see this as a problem. i'm still having a heck of a time trying to explain it to her so that she can understand it the way that i actually mean it. i hope can succeed in it though. i think my mother and her mother's relationship was probably at the apex of accomplishment compared to how they once might have interacted. my mother has seen to it not to make the same mistakes that the previous generation did, but instead made a brand new set of mistakes. fortunately hers are much less rough around the edges than grandma's i'm sure. it seems like it's up to me to start working out the previous generation's bugs so that i'll have less issues to deal with when my own kids come into being. tired as i am, i think it's still worth fighting for.

difference a day makes

2006-02-22T01:47:00.000-08:00

“my feelings hurt / but you know i overcome the pain / and i'm stronger now / there can't be a fire unless there's a flame / don't cry” - seal

right around 24 to 36 hours ago, i wasn't feeling too terribly hot. i got down pretty low. i didn't set a record, but it hadn't been that bad for awhile. God must be on my side, 'cause those were perfect weather conditions for a cold front of heavy depression to sweep in and rain on everything. God must be on my side. other people's prayers must be working. 'cause i don't feel like mine are that fervent. and i certainly don't feel i count much as righteous these days. not to term myself a hapless, helpless heathen. according to the Word of God, Christ is my righteousness and furthermore, my strength in weakness. if God says it, i'll side with it, but i'm just making note of my feelings... and the fact that they seem to have changed. 'bout time.

turn over a rock

2006-02-20T18:00:00.000-08:00

it's been a dizzying ride recently. i've been actively trying to confront pain from my past in order to free myself up for whatever God has in the future. there have been plenty of days where i wished i had shrunken back from the task and just let things be. but once you turn over a rock and let scatter the roaches beneath, it's almost impossible to coax them all back into their previously comfortable (and more importantly out of view) place if you change your mind.

these days, layers of repressed anger are the roach of choice that i would like to bury back under the rock. the process of catharsis sometimes leaves me tired. and while my physical and emotion strength is drained, i'm apt to forget that the goal in the big picture is a good one. as my usually spirited gait and ebullience temporary give way to more of a muddy trudging through and straight-face at best, i constantly question whether it's worth it. but for faith, i wouldn't have a positive answer.

"death whispers words of defeat in my ear
my God I draw near
my God I draw near" - john reuben, "draw near"

God isn't absent though. nor is he inert. though i have cycled through points where i wasn't going to make it. God never forgets about me and in his own time... just in time... he gives me something i can use to steady myself, lift my head, and keep breathing.

forgiveless

2006-02-20T15:24:00.000-08:00

oh hell yeah, i'm still mad.

i've had some candid conversations with my mother about things she did and said when i was a teenager that were hurtful and patterns of behavior that did more harm than good. and yet, i don't think much has been resolved. not that i recall. i don't perceive things clearly when i'm angry, so there may have been progress that just now slips my mind.

even though i know my mother prays for me incessantly... i know she wants the best for me... thinks most highly of me... blah blah blah. all great things. really. they're lovely. i don't much feel loved the way she's continually glossed over my deepest concerns. i have expressed these things in about the most succint way i know how and they've been met with different responses over time... disbelief, apathy, resistance, dismissiveness. in context of how she loves me oh so very much, she finds it to be a slap in the face that i feel this way. she feels she did the best job in parenting that she possibly could have. therefore. she doesn't feel the need to apologize for anything.

well, not quite anything. anytime, i talk about how i'm habitually nocturnal, or have problems showing up on time, she bemoans that as her fault.

she blames her genes.

i roll my eyes.

it really burns me up that she has so much concern for these things that i really could care less about. and the things that i feel she is responsible for (read: had some control over), she feels no shame about. she was combative, quarrelsome, oppressive, self-righteous, and domineering. to her credit, i believe when i mentioned this to her, she said something to the effect of "i'm sorry if i did anything that made you feel that way", but it just wreaked of patronizing insincerity. it's as if some conglomerate company's negligence caused you injury of some sort, and just to try an appease you and avoid any further legal action, they send some cold, dry cousin of Ben Stein's to inform you that "the company feels very badly that someone hurt you and hopes that you get well soon."

the thing that ires me is that she takes no responsibility for it whatsoever. she doesn't even feel that she's done anything wrong, and when i try to encapsulate for her how miserable of an experience being forced to live with her was, she either blocks it out or just doesn't understand at all and launches into some "i just don't understand how you feel that way"-flavored speech.

have i not hammered home how much i loathe being misunderstood? does she not know how frustrating it is to have these substantial feelings weighing down on me and then in confrontation have her convince me that it's "just the enemy" playing me against her or it's all in my mind or it doesn't really exist at all? that wasn't some flighty nightmare? that was a span of over two years that actually happened! you can't just use the jedi mind trick and make that go away.

now she's 50-something and concentrating on enjoying life and being healthy and keeping her blood pressure down and focusing on the positive things.

“In our anger or pain, we may feel that we should withhold our forgiveness, until our injurer repents. But consider this question from another angle. Making our forgiveness dependent on another's repentance is not very helpful. It sets us up to be a victim, not just once, but twice! By making our forgiveness so dependent, we hand considerable power over our lives, to the one who injured us! Hanging on to a grudge is like keeping a [dinosaur] in our living room. It's a painful creature from the dead past which we choose to keep alive in the present. The truth is, it really is within our power to choose otherwise, and particularly with God's help!” - from “Eight Forgiveness Questions To Ponder”

And then again, what if it is just me? What if I'm just seeing everything through the pubescent hindsight of an angst-heavy teenager? What if I'm just doing a shameful disservice to my loving mother? What if it's like she says? What if I'm just spoiled and selfish and that's all there is to it? What if it really doesn't exist? What it it's just something that I choose to believe in retrospect? What if I'm the piece that doesn't fit and I'm the reason why our relationship has suffered for over a decade now?

I don't know, and thinking about the whole thing is making me tired. It's draining on her to have to field the questions, and it's draining on me to keep posing them. And as bad as I feel like I need this reconciliation, this closure, I seriously wonder if it would just be a better and more peace-economical solution to just try and forget it and like Ma says "let God have it."

late

2006-02-06T16:46:00.000-08:00

“i keep stalling out
i just can't keep up
there's alarming doubt
am i good enough
but you keep comin' around
to remind me
it's still far from over.”
- mute math, “stall out”

i have a problem and i am out of control. i cannot seem to show up on time for anything. ever. there's a point that's usually approximately 30 minute before i have to be somewhere that will take me 30 minutes to get to where i decide whether or not to leave. inevitably i always decide that whatever i'm doing that normally has to do with personal busywork of little importance normally overrides. sometimes it IS important. but why couldn't i have done it hours prior? is this a disease? what is wrong? this is robbing me and i'm becoming increasingly concerned. i mean, what the hell happens, predictably, every single day at just the right time such that i can not be punctual?

normally i expect to be late to things i'm inclined against. for instance, anytime i would have to make a trip back to my hometown, it seems like everything else that i would rather have done became of paramount importance, because i didn't want to go in the first place. finally, hours later, i had either cancelled my visit or severely cut short its length due to “matters beyond my control”. but now it's begun to affect things that i care about, and i need help. like any other problem, i'm loathe to write it in a public place where perhaps potential clients and employers could read it, prejudge and disqualify me, but at this point it's becoming more of a problem to smother it under a pillow and deny that it exists that to just put it out there and get on the road to curing it.

it's either be punctual or be prepared. one or the other and rarely ever both. this first became an obvious problem last year. i was taking a design class where i'd obtained an unusually high personal stake in my performance with the assignments. if i conquered, it was exhilarating. if i faltered, it was near crushing. i loved the time spent even when the work was nerve wracking, so why was it so hard for me to prioritize things and prepare such that when 6pm rolled around, everything that needed to be done was done?

i asked my pastor about it (she also happens to be a part-time professor at the same university) and she shed some light on the subject. she let me know that many professors consider it an affront for you to walk into their classroom late. some of them lose their place in their lecture and consider the disruption more than odious. some of them take it personally that you don't care enough about what they're saying to be there when it starts and stay until it's finished.

this was news to me. why was this news to me? i think the roots of this however are selfishness. just today i decided i needed to eat more than i needed to return to my class within 15 minutes of the start of our break. my assignments weren't quite done, so i delayed leaving for a previous class until the next class's requirements were prepared.

and then there's the tunnel vision. say for instance, it's 2am and i'm in some artistic mode where i'm fully ensconced in whatever music, art, or frivolously pointless task i'm focused on. at that moment, accomplishing what is in front of me is more important than the very real factor that every hour of sleep i sacrifice after a certain point is a likely hour that will be cut away from something else (because it has to be of major importance for me to cut my sleep short).

most of all, there's my pointless day job. when i know that showing up at 11am instead of 12pm would at best result in me sitting at my desk for an hour waiting for the paint to crack, and at worst result in me getting pointless busy work that someone else didn't want to do, getting me to leave the house at 10:30am is like trying to push a sitting elephant over. you might as well give up.

in a perfect world, i would love to be able to say. i had this problem. but i prayed about it. God answered me in 6-8 weeks. and praise the Lord, i've got the victory manifested in the natural, amen, halleglory. that ain't the case here. i'm not “fixed” yet. i'm not “all better”. i'm still having to exert great effort just to keep things running. and all this exertion is making me tired. i'm afraid that this type of thing could be my undoing. i loathe to say it, but my hamartia. the thing that keeps me from being a storybook worthy hero. the thing that just barely disqualifies me from being “amazing”.

“mark was pretty talented, but...”

“yeah, mark had potential and could have been a lot, but...”

“it was lookin' pretty good for him, but then...”

i don't want to be tragic. so what do i do now?

rememberance can often be soothing

2006-01-28T17:15:00.000-08:00

i was just watching and janet jackson performing "rhythm nation" on youtube.com and it reminded me of the late 80's when i was really into her! i bought dang near anything that had her pretty face on it and her feathery voice in it. of course, that was before the libido monster ate her alive. i still dig janet, but in more of a nostalgia type of way. it's like she reminds me of an old friend whenever i see her now. she's not the "rhythm nation" girl i used to love. it's cool though. people change.

and then just last night, i was futzing around on one of my favorite sites on the web, allmusic.com, and rediscovered how much i used to be into michel'le. she was the r&b singer on eazy e's ruthless label back in like '89. she had a squeaky speaking voice when she talked, and a throaty alto when she sang. (sidebar: did you know mahalia jackson was the same way? where did that voice come from?! lol)

anyway, this stuff was all well and good back then. but i'm looking now with my grown-up eyes and sensibilities and what not thinking. "i can't believe i listened to this stuff on repeat." lol those were good times, but i've just noticed that you really can't repeat them.

i'll often notice the way sunlight hits the grass and trees and the very color will remind me of an entirely different time and place. this morning, the light coming through my window reminded me of the light in the dining room of the house where i grew up. and then i remembered how the light would kinda glisten through the crystalline sugar bowl we kept on the kitchen table... and then i remembered how i would b**** and moan if there were lumps in it from my grandfather using the same spoon he stirred the coffee with to spoon out the sugar. heh. i was a brat. it's funny in retrospect. but i was really mad about the lumps.

right now, that house is owned by someone else... who rents it out to someone else. i hear that they've taken the awnings off of the front of it and changed it's color from flax and brick to something pastel, loud, and more suited to a mexican villa. of course, my papa passed away almost 7 years ago.

but even if he was still alive, and the house was still the right color, and all of our furniture was back in it, in the right place, with all the discolorations and weathered markings that made it the place i remembered... i still couldn't recreate that moment. i can replay it in my mind, but that was once in a lifetime. all i can do now is try to pinpoint the next few moments that will come by and make me smile like that. and if i'm really astute, i'll know them while they're happening and enjoy them the first time around, instead of decades later.

“tito! my hair's on fire!”

2006-01-26T21:07:00.000-08:00

OK, not really. But I am in that mode where most everything is about putting out fires. Runhere, dothis, changethat, finishthis, phonesringing!, hurryupandwait, runandgettoit, balancethisjugglethat, rattlethempotsandpansandlookgooddoinit, and over time it does feel like spaces just kind of disappear from all the words said and they just blend into one long imperative sentence that would have an exclamation point on it... if it ever ended.

The sad thing is, I think I like it like this. I didn't really kick into gear until there was too much pressure on... until the deadline was right before me. Seriously though, I must figure out why when I'm doing creative things, it seems like I don't get inspired until the day of. It's almost like you'd put your hands on your hips and bark at your idea, "What. You couldn't have gotten here any sooner? Everybody was waiting on you."

I feel like I'm on now. In reference to the previous rant, the lawnmower is beginning to do what I know it can. Now... if I can just get it to do it a little faster, we can really be in business. The graphic design queues are as full of interesting projects as Julie Andrews' hills are alive with the sound of music. I just finished a flash eCard promoting WOW Gospel 2006. I've got upcoming promo design work to do on Amel Larrieux's new album, plus individual sites for Kenny Lattimore and Chante Moore, another site for clothing line called HunterHill, and leave us not forget that school is starting on Monday.

And speaking of Monday, Monday is also National Mute Math Day. I'll be going straight from my new and wonderful classes at CSUN to CBS's television studios to see Mute Math tape a live performance on The Late Late Show with Craig Ferguson, and then from there to The Troubadour in Hollywood to see their headlining live show, and then from there back home to await the airing of The Late Late Show so I can tape it, and make my Mute Math experience complete. Heck yeah. Ain't it grand?

once an idiot...

2006-01-21T16:07:00.000-08:00

i wonder if it will ever end. i'm miles away from the virtually totally socially inept nerd i was in high school (and for a bulky measure of time up until). i've since caught on, and these days, i can often pass for a charming, good looking guy. if i had my way, i would disavow any knowledge of prior idiocy... but then, it happens.

an otherwise witty, well-timed remark is spoiled by a hitch in the delivery, stuttering, or just not letting food fly out of your mouth while you're saying it. it feels like i have to go back to square one... like i just landed on the monopoly square mandating that i go to jail, sans passing go, sans collecting $200. in times like these, i'm glad i'm a nice medium brown. any paler skin tone would give way to blushing more often than i'd care to let on.

we've all seen something like this at least once in life. someone isn't paying attention and doesn't realize they're about to trip and fall over something in their path. you're too far away to warn them or stop them from the impending accident. now, if you were in this position, you would know that the best thing to do (if you can't just avoid the whole thing) is to hit the ground quickly and rebound as soon as possible so as to at least minimize the number of people who can make fun of you first hand.

however, that's neither common knowledge or common practice. all you can do is watch in slow, slow motion as their foot catches, their arms flail in a clumsily vain attempt to regain balance, they let out two or three unintentionally comical yelps that serve to draw unwanted attention, and then hit the ground with as many people gasping in horror (then subsequently doubling over in laughter) as possible.

it can't get worse unless you go for extra points and either make a funny noise with what ever you crash into, or slip and hit the ground again while trying to recover from the whole debacle.

now imagine this physical travesty... reinterpreted vocally... just last weekend... by yours truly. it was a moment of oratory awkwardness that would have made porky pig proud. imagine the face of the person desperately trying to reconcile the mess of spoonerisms and diced gibberish sputtering from my mouth with any pattern of recognizeable English speech.

it looked just like the face of someone watching a poor sap with bad motor skills, trip, flail, yelp, and thud. embarassment does not begin to encapsulate the feeling that it brought upon. in retrospect, i count it a blessing, that it was only in front of a pair of people whose ascribed M.O. is to minimize embarassment rather than publicize it.

still, if i had my way, i think i might have chosen to take a light tumble down a half flight of stairs. the rationale for which is, that people who are just clumsy physically can often apply acquired sympathy to their wounds to speed their healing. but there is no sympathy for the mouth of an idiot. you just want them to shut up (and if possible, back away a minimum of roughly ten paces).

it's just seemed to be like that recently. maybe it will pass after a few days like light flu symptoms or faster like irksome hiccups. i don't know what it is, but just to be on the safe side, i think i'm just gonna not talk for a few days. so the bible says, and it still is news: "it is better to keep silent and be suspected a fool, than to open one's mouth and remove all doubt."

lawnmower man

2006-01-20T00:56:00.000-08:00

i can't seem to get started. you pull, you tug, you grunt, and sweat, but the motor doesn't seem to be going. and it's hot. and nobody's around to help you. and you can swear the grass is getting taller while you're trying to get it together to knock it down one good time for the next two weeks.

it's been years since i had to mow a lawn. but that feeling of having to start the mower hasn't gone away. if i could just get it going, i was fine. it would pretty much run itself, i just had to guide it, make judgement calls, and then clean up after it. but man. the effort... getting up early in the morning, dragging that bulky tank out of the woodshed, and then trying to convince it to work was about the worst part of the whole task.

i, sir, am a webdesigner. among other things, it's how i pay rent. i'm to the point where i can no longer coast on saved up funds from months gone by. i have to get out there and work. and praise God, there are offers. not just offers, but great ones! high profile ones, God-gifted ones, ones i've been looking forward to for months. now is not the time to disappoint.

but i doubt the tasks will get any harder than trying to drag my skills out of retirement and smack 'em around. i know i can do this stuff, i just need to jump in there and make time for it to bring out the best in me.

blah blah blah. i haven't come up with any bright ideas while writing, so this equates to naught but venting and whining. i either need to be sleeping or working, but i don't have any time to waste in between. there's money to get. get me? :)

where's the party at?

2005-12-20T01:16:00.000-08:00

where's the music? where are the dancing girls? how come there's no streamers? why is nobody on the dancefloor? am i at the right place? where's the party?

i just finished my penultimate semester of college with the largest class load i plan to carry in awhile (i only need two more classes to graduate). i've hurdled another obstacle and, within reason, victoriously so. so why am i missing that great sense of accomplishment? i did just do something pretty big, but the fanfare is all but completely missing. it's nice to hear my mom say she's proud of me. and i do look forward to banishing to archive folders all of the class-related papers and books that have grown over my desk like a kudzu vine covering. still, where's the fanfare? i feel so anti-climactic! it's not like last semester when finishing made me feel absolutely radiant inside like i could walk right up to the sun and outshine it in the sky.

instead, the biggest rush i got was finishing my near-immaculate mock-up of a 2-disc cd/dvd special package. it looked great and i put it together well and i got props on it from my teacher, two other teachers, as well as the head of the art department. that was the middle of the week though. i almost wish it was the last thing, so that could have been my big finish. that would have been a great time for the band to swell up, i could then strike my pose, hold for applause, and feel like i closed the show well.

i have a disappointing feeling that without the gravitational pull and common adversity of sharing classloads and complaining about the same assignments, friends that i made in the last year will become acquaintances, go their separate ways, and never be seen again. it would have nice to go out to dinner with somebody. i'm only a distance away from breaking out into a chorus of "oh i wanna dance with somebody". i could have gone to that christmas party my ex-girlfriend invited me to, but for some reason when i kick it with her, i always feel like i have to look like i'm not uncomfortable in the atmosphere, when i am... always... just a little bit.

instead, i went out and spent money that i really didn't have to spend. i bought some cheap movies, got a free rental, stocked up on comfort food with no significant nutritional value, and i suppose i'll watch a half a movie and end up asleep.

i was hoping to have more of a triumphant "it's so hard to say goodbye" type ending. instead, the feeling is more along the lines of "(i just want it) to be over". better yet, my theme song for the last week has been "shake it off", 'cause i've known for weeks that this feeling was coming. about 2 months ago, the thrill was gone. so gone. despite having some really really great professors and starting off really well, i lost my motivation, i started screwing up on things that really mattered to me, and it was all i could do not to slip hopelessly into a repeat of my last bout with depression. i just wish it could have ended better between us. me and this semester that is. but then again, for my entire 8 year college career, i have very, very rarely excelled in fall semesters. i don't know why. but this time of year has never been conducive to me learning.

the upshot though is, that now i'm free to get back to work on my music, to take one some freelance jobs, make some money and get out of debt, and what i'm really looking forward to next semester knowing that i really don't have to kill myself trying to take 30 different classes to graduate. i can just take it easy. it'll be springtime. everything will be beautiful again. i can use one last semester of low interest financial aid to consolidate high-interest credit cards and get some much needed professional equipment before entering the real world. so i suppose it's not the end of the world. sometimes you feel a little empty. but high tide will come back through, so it's cool.

if my child lives

2005-12-05T00:30:00.000-08:00

second samuel, twelfth chapter. david has already committed adultery with bathsheba. gotten her pregnant. had her husband killed. in this chapter, God sent nathan to put david on blast for what he'd done. david didn't deny it. he relented and repented, but he couldn't undo the result of his lust, murder, adultery.

that's a pretty tall order of sin. and sin of a most odious order at that. nathan prophecied to david that because of this, he would not die... but his child would. after hearing this, david prayed desperately for this to pass. and he fasted. he stayed in the same place, wouldn't go anywhere, and he slept on the floor. no one could get him to eat anything for days.

after seven days, the child died. when david heard that the child was dead, he didn't rage. or have anyone [else] killed. the bible says he got up, washed his face, combed his hair, changed clothes, and then went into the sanctuary and worshipped. and then he came home and ate something.

the bible also says that david was a man after God's own heart. so a David™-brand tutorial on how to supplicate God in the wake of a grievous error is to be taken particular note of. david knew he was guilty. david knew he was unworthy. but he prayed to God for mercy. in the television rewriting of this story, God overlooks david's foulness and lets his child live, but david wasn't living in t.v. and neither am i.

i haven't committed adultery. or gotten anyone pregnant. or conspired to have my baby mama's husband killed. but i know that in God's eyes there are no lesser or greater sins. so i'm plugging my own sins into the place where david's were and praying for mercy no less.

hoping my child will live.

i have an opportunity before me that is somewhat like a child. it's very much close to my heart. something that i love very much. something that i want very much to live. and yet its life more or less hangs in the balance of several factors that are outside of my control. thus... i've gone to God, the only one who has power to help me and my situation and i've asked for his help.

proverbs 26:1 says "as snow in summer and rain in harvest, so honor is not fitting for a fool". thereby, a fool trying to "wear" honor would probably be much akin to the morbidly obese trying to wear hot pants. the phrase comes to mind: "who told you you could wear that?" it doesn't fit. it's not becoming. i would like to believe that i don't qualify unequivocally as a fool, but my actions certainly smack of foolishness more often than i care to admit.

if i am as foolish as i think i am in God's eyes, then it would really be in bad taste to allow me to don what i'm asking to wear. but i "hope against hope" just like in romans 4:18 where it references the promise that abraham would be a father of many nations even though he and his wife were as already old as dirt and utterly childless.

one day when my friend kenny saw me looking visibly down, he called my house later and left a message saying "hey, i saw you walking, and i just want you to know... whatever you're going through, God is able." i believe this. God can do what he chooses to do. God can grant me clemency, if it so pleases him.

so...

i've made my request known to God. if my child lives, i will be grateful beyond grateful because i've been granted a request that i'm certain i don't deserve. and if my child dies, i will wash my face, tidy up my dredlocks, change clothes, and go worship God. the common thread is that whatever the outcome, God is able, it is "fitting" to praise him, and nothing will change that.

what does a black man have to do to get pumpkin pie?

2005-11-26T23:56:00.000-08:00

these times come and go, but right now, i really miss my grandfather. my own father died before i born, so my grandparents raised me while my mother worked. and once my grandmother passed away in 1989, it was just me and papa for 10 years. that's a lot of quality time. i suppose i rarely miss him more than during thanksgiving. that's when he would make pumpkin pie. it wasn't any overdone affair made with a few cups of sugar here and a couple pounds of butter there. he just used to recipe on the back of the libby's can, and actually omitted a few ingredients. whatever he did, it yielded this light orange-colored confection that i looked forward to year after year.

the last thanksgiving before he passed away, i was bugging him to show me exactly how he made the pie. however, when he called me to watch him do it, i was off in the family room playing with cousins and didn't want to stop to pay attention. it's one of the things i've kicked myself the hardest for since he's been gone. i knew how much i loved him, and i knew that if he didn't mean the world to me, he was pretty dang close. yet, i still couldn't quite get it together to appreciate him the way he deserved.

probably the chief of all offenses was the thanksgiving that i asked him to cook. and then i think i either forgot that he did, or just was having too grand a time elsewhere to come home and eat it. when i did get home later in the day, he was telling me all about the dressing he'd made. he was so proud of it because he tried out a new recipe using apple juice instead and wanted to see what i thought. i had just eaten when i got there, so that was one strike against me and then i tasted the dressing and though it was good, it didn't compare to my mother's recipe and i wasn't hungry besides. i didn't spit it in the trash and shout "ptui", but whatever quietly unthrilled reaction i gave probably wounded him just as bad.

my grandfather didn't show a lot of emotion, but that didn't mean he didn't feel any. my biggest and most often recurring regret in these last 6 years (and my how time flies) is that i didn't -- or somehow couldn't properly -- express that i appreciated him and everything he did. i still carry that with me and i could break down and cry if i think about it too long because i never wanted to hurt him, but i just didn't have a grip on how spoiled and fickle a child i was.

all the same, i know that if papa was still here today, he wouldn't hold it against me. i guess when you get to be over 80 years old, you just don't care to hold on to things like that. and for me, he let a lot of things go, i'm sure. and yet with that assurance in my heart, it still bothers me. because it's one thing i wish i could go back and re-do. i wanted him to know how much he meant to me, and i'm sure he had a clue. i just hate leaving guess-work when it comes to that stuff.

it really doesn't matter though. nothing that's happened has much bearing on the present or the future. except that i have yet to get pumpkin pie to taste like i remember it. you know, african-american families swear up and down by sweet potatoe pie. you talk to them about pumpkin, and you're likely to get cussed out. but to me, the traditional aspect of the holiday isn't complete without it. so i've made two already. the pumpkin was on the shelf for awhile, so it had a darker appearance to it. and i don't think i put in enough evaporated milk, so it was way too thick and sweet. i'm trying again tonight though. before i put it in the oven an hour or so ago, it looked like the right color and i made sure i tasted a bit of the mix before i poured it in the pie shells. i think it'll be ok.

i'm sure everything will be ok.

death of a salesman

2005-11-17T17:16:00.000-08:00

willy lomax spent his entire life chanting his mantra of how good it is for a salesman to be "well-liked". and then he died a failure of a salesman and nobody liked him. nobody. first of all, willy was either delusional or a pathological liar, because he was not a good salesman and even stevie wonder could see that. and second, while willy sang the praises of being well-liked, he sure didn't consider how much it costs to try and please everybody. it would have been fine if he could have parlayed all of his pandering and boot-licking into sales. but this bastard had nothing to show at the end of the day except a monument to how pathetic he was.

i don't wanna die like that. i like for people to like me. i like for people to smile when they see me. but some people are just too expensive. they require too much to be pleased. and once i deem that making a person happy doesn't fit in my budget, i just shut down shop altogether and i might give them the finger. after that point, pretty much don't nobody get nothin'. and i means it like i said it.

today, i just don't have enough "resource" to please everybody. maybe it's just me. maybe i've been sending out "hostile vibes" and people around me are reacting to a message i didn't know i was sending, but it surely feels like its without probable cause. so until such time as i figure out what's going on, i'm gonna register a provisional "screw them, i'm taking my toys and going home. i didn't want to be their friend anyway." how 'bout that.

i guess that does sound pretty hostile.

aww, shut up.

you ain't got to lie, em

2005-11-08T23:49:00.000-08:00

this sunday, a girl slunk in quietly through the backdoor of the church while worship was going on. she stood just out of sight listening to the music. she was pale and waifish, and she looked like she didn't think she belonged where she was. i wasn't sure if she was a transient off the street or someone's invited guest, but she looked lost. so i walked over and welcomed her saying "you don't have to stand here in the back. you can go grab a seat if you want!"

she asked me to repeat what i said before she motioned me to come outside because she couldn't hear me over the music. i repeated, and she just kinda smiled and laughed it off or said thanks. i don't remember which. but apparently, she was more interested in getting some attention because as soon as a quiet opportunity presented itself, she began telling me her life story. i kinda did want to go back inside and worship with the rest of the family, but i had to check myself on a writ of that mary-and-martha principle where Jesus deemed it more important for mary to spend time with him than for her to help martha with the housework (luke 10:38-42).

so i sat and i listened. fortunately, she didn't take too terribly long getting down to the dirt. she had squeezed through the bars to escape the church next door because she didn't like them and they didn't understand her. she was from phoenix, but had to come to live here in los angeles with her grandparents. her home in phoenix was overrun with drug addicts (many of which she said she'd invited into the home). {ok, i'm still listening.}

i asked how old she was. she said she was 14. i told her it was quite alright for her to visit the church, but she really should let her grandparents know where she was. she said, "oh, oh, i have that completely under control. i have a whole plan worked out." {story somewhat checks out... that sounds like the type of dumb thing a barely-teenager would say when faced with a question of accountability}

we were outside at the back corner of the church, but fortunately there were plenty cars coming into the church parking lot. just in case she was runnin' some kind of game, or intended to wild out on me, i wanted to have plenty of witnesses close by. so i continued to listen as she told me she had done a lot of bad things, and began to tear up. {ok, no judgment here... keep going} and then she says "i've had nine children and i'm working on number ten right now." {brakes screech and the cars in my train of thought sequentially slam into each other's back}

ok, whoa. uh-uhn. i can count dagnabit. i was like "ok, but that's impossible." she counters, "but i started having sex really early and i had a whole buncha one-night-stands. they all got me pregnant." all of 'em? really? that's gotta be some pretty mathematically precise planning. sounding dubious without my face betraying the contempt rising with me, i maintained "that's still impossible. you know, you kinda need nine months between each one." or at least some extremely fertile equipment to work with. {my expression begs her to level with me}

"ok, i'm actually 20. i don't know why i lie so much, i lie to all my friends. i don't know why." {i just smile and give her the don't-know-what-to-tell-ya look.} "well, that works a little better for me." she adds, "ok, really. my real age is 18. honest." {a little less smile... still don't know what to tell her} at this point, i'm more than put off. at the start of the conversation she told me her name was emily. normally i try not to reveal people's names on the internet, but the odds are, her name probably isn't emily.

so i'm thinking to myself i'm a complete stranger. you don't know me, you've never seen me, i've never seen you, and we may never see each other again. what do you have to lose by telling the truth? why do you feel you have to lie? i really needed an answer to the question, so i decided to come up with a placeholder one in my mind until God reveals otherwise. one thing's for sure, that i wouldn't bank on the truth of anything this girl just said. that may have been just want she wanted. she may or may not be pregnant. she may or may not have had up to nine or more children. she could feasibly be anywhere from 12-years-old to 21-years-old. she may or may not have been a victim of child abuse. but one thing was definitely real... the criss-crossed obviously self-inflicted cuts all up and down the inside of her legs and thighs which she gladly hiked up her capri pants to show.

i asked her if she'd be comfortable with me getting someone to pray with her. but then i thought better of it, visualized her bolting before i got the chance to return with the assistant pastor, and decided to just man up and rock the intercessory myself. i prayed a plain english prayer with my eyes open.

"aren't you supposed to close your eyes when you pray?" she warned. "no, not really. God hears everything sweetie," i informed and proceeded to pray saying with tongue-in-cheek, "Father, you know her name and how old she really is. i can't do all the things for her that i wish i could, so i call on You. i ask You to speak to her in a way that only she can understand and then let her know that it's You..."

i can't depend on the verity of any of what i allowed to glaze my ears, but one thing is positive. this girl needs help. i think she just wanted someone to vent to, and then in an attempt to have her remarks stricken from the record, she quickly kicks dirt over her droppings with a smoke screen of factors that don't quite add up. i think she may have gotten exactly what she wanted. she got somebody to open up to, and then she got to close them back again when she was done. i'm actually quite fine with it. i probably wouldn't have someone like that as a close friend, but i believe that God can do something amazing in her life.

the tide turning

2005-11-01T22:40:00.000-08:00

nevermind my actual age, i can act like a crotchety old man nonetheless. i've been known to be averse to change, set in my ways as if i've been here longer than i actually have. sometimes it's a good thing and they call it steadfast. sometimes it's a bad thing and they call it stubborn. doesn't really matter in this case, because the change i'm resisting is the changing of the seasons themselves. i'm not ready for summer to go away.

in truth, i'm actually just gunshy. last winter here was very cold, gray and rainy, much unbecoming of any territory carrying the moniker of "the sunshine state". it wasn't that it was anywhere near comparable to a new york winter, but even for california, it just seemed to last so long. the weather was gloomy and storming well into what should have been a green blossoming spring. so vowed then to appreciate every summer day i could from the double-digits to the triples.

and i did so, but it still doesn't seem enough. though my anti-morning biorhythms welcome the daylight savings change with open arms, i'm not looking forward to seeing the dusky alpenglow coat our valley skyline at 5:30pm. it just seems wrong. lol

“God created changing seasons not in vain / the beauty of the weather's here for some distraction from our pain / let a warm summer night romance you / let a winter snowfall entrace you / you don't have to pay nothin' / to take in the view” - amel larrieux, “weather”

of course, i know though. i don't have a choice. winter hasn't once arrived late yet. i'm sure it won't be making an exception for li'l old me. at least i have the consolation that our days are still hovering around the high 80's here. so as we orbit daily farther and farther away from our source of light and heat, i'll just have to cozy up with my space heater and invest in some sweaters and jackets to replace the printed tees that i have grown to love so much as of late.

and there is a consolation prize though. today in the grocery store, i saw that they were stocking holiday egg nog. and then bill wither's “lovely day” started playing in my head... and the world was all-right with me. i long professed autumn to be my favorite season, but that was when i had holidays with my grandfather and his pumpkin pie recipe and fallen leaves from our maple tree to look forward to. i saw a pile of maple leaves in someone else's yard here in l.a., and it made me feel so fine.

my friend fatima was over this saturday. we went to breakfast and then did some design work together. we're from the old school, so since it was saturday morning i was watching looney tunes on dvd while working. she hit my own sentiment on the nose when she pointed out “you know, i like this. sittin' here with the heater on, watchin' cartoons... just makes me feel safe.” yeah. that's it. that's what it does. it makes me feel safe. so does lulling myself to sleep with hot tea in a mug while watching taxi.

i'm not so unraveled by my memories of the past as i was before. God has kept his promise. he has not left me comfortless. he has come to me. and along with him, he has brought hope, love, companionship, purpose, looney tunes, tea, and taxi. he's a good god.

in the throes of withdrawal

2005-11-01T13:25:00.000-08:00

I have a conundrum going on. I am admittedly one of those individuals who has allowed my constant hankering for approval and affirmation to shape my motivation. Sometimes it's people's approval that is the only significant gratification for some of the things I work so hard doing. The problem arises when I set up this pattern and then something happens that cuts the person's motivation out from beneath me. I can't move.

Last week through a series of unforeseen events, I failed to deliver on an assignment for a class that was notably important to me. The professor was more than disappointed and let the entire class know it in a quietly controlled scolding that lasted about 5-10 minutes by itself. And at the end was the payoff... the workload was doubled and reassigned to me and anyone else in the category of those who failed to deliver.

The redoubled workload was actually the least of all stings (I understand it's just being used to reinforce for future reference how unacceptable it is not to deliver to a client). However it was more of a "hit me where it hurts" to have missed out on the "stamp of approval" that was a vital part of my productivity cycle. Without that portion, my already wounded drive to succeed actually dwindled more... and faster. It made it a drudgery of drudgeries to even begin completing the new assignment given.

Worse than that was a couple weeks ago when I got to the due date for that month-long project I worked on and due to that weekend rub with my family, had nothing to turn in on the due date. I was as close to mortified as one could get. It could have gone without saying that public rebuke was acutely embarassing in front of my design peers. And so now this compounds it all in more ways than one. I feel inept... disqualified... like I might as well give up and go do something else that I can succeed at with less effort. Really. This isn't easy for me.

Sidebar: I think I recently tried to explain to my mother how much of a difference her approval or disapproval makes in my life. I might as well have said it to a brick wall because she hardly even acknowledged it as viable.

So if I follow the trend as I've seen it happen before and predict it could happen again, then I will, if I complete this task at all, completely in a lackluster manner. After all, the prize I was actually seeking was not a grade (I have traditionally not given a rat's @** about grades as a gauge for achievement). What I wanted the most was the affirmation from my circle that I'm on top of my game. At this point, that seem like that would either be unattainable or require a last minute brilliant leap out of the gutter (which is something I really don't feel I'm up to right now).

I'm not quite a fool though. I know that what I do right now decides whether I ultimately become a tragic has-been clothed in a burlap sack of a sad story or something else. I don't really have a good picture of what my "something else" option looks like, but I'll take it. Anything's better than turning into a sad-dramatic burnout. I'd dare say it's one of my worst fears.

So this is what I'm going to do. On the heels of some advice from a friend of mine, I'm going to see if I can use this situation as a prime opportunity to shake this cold turkey. I make no promises about the longevity of this decision, but I'm going to try it. I've got nothing to lose, and I know that underneath it all, I'm primed to shine. Polishing myself up from this point on is going to be the task. So if you're listening and have two hands that you can put together for me, pray.

infinite possibilities

2005-11-01T01:23:00.000-08:00

sometimes God has to wow us to remind us that he is who he says he is. not that it's his obligation, it's just that otherwise, we tend to forget. and right easily. but when you hold a belief in your mind that something can't be done, something is impossible, and the God takes that opportunity and flies in the face of it, it gives birth to faith. it proves to us that our simply believing something is impossible does not thereby make it impossible.

not only that, but when God does the unexpected and shatters the perimeters of what we think he is able to do (or even think he's likely to do), you begin to think... or shall i say -- i begin to think: “hmmm. that was pretty dang impressive. what else can you do?” (as if God's power is a sideshow for my amusement's sake).

i think He's empowered by our curiosity about Him. He can do amazing things when he's able to get our attention. it starts a dialogue of sorts where you go from doubting to being curious, to asking questions, to getting answers (he provides them in the most peculiarly yet recognizable ways)... to believing, to communing, to becoming more like Him and only desiring to spread his truth around the earth.

i recently told a friend of mine (who astutely perceived my aversion to authority), “i don't do well with [people telling me what] I can't.” completely on the opposite side, God tells us what we can do. people get this weird idea that the Bible is full of rows and columns of “you can't” that tie you into a straitjacket faith. yes, there are some guidelines on what not to do “if you want to be happy for the rest of your life,” but even those “i can'ts” don't bother me when i measure them up against the “cans”. the “i can do all things through Christ who strenghtens me”. the “with man it is impossible, but with God all things are possible”. the “all things are lawful, but not all things are expedient”.

i wouldn't term him as an irresponsible permissive parent, but instead one who knows the value and purpose of freedom. one who gives allowance weekly with a smile and encourages the child to manage it wisely, helps the child make better decisions, and has compassion enough to pick the child up when he falls. i tell you, it's win-win. it's a good system, if you learn how to work it. working it begins with faith, and for me, my faith began as a series of questions. i know personally that God answers these questions that may or may not be spoken. sometimes the answer comes in pieces, but i know it comes. and for the freedom that comes with it, i must say, it is by all means worth the wait.

a conversation with paul meany

2005-10-30T02:02:00.000-08:00

i went to mute math's concert tonight. actually it was mae's concert, with mute math, circa survive, and discover america supporting them. the ticket was $13. once ticketmaster got done adding on fees, the ticket was nigh $25. parking was $8. my obligatory t-shirt was $15. there was a curfew enacted, so all the sets were shortened to let people out early and mute math was on stage for a little over 20 minutes for 4 songs (“chaos”, “plan b”, “control”, and “reset”). i don't regret it though. i got to hang with paul meany and darren king for a while. it's amazing how humble those guys can be in light of how talented they are. i tried to get my any of my two mute math inclined friends on the phone to talk to paul, but one of them was sleeping like a rock and his grandmother couldn't wake him up... and the other? i didn't have her cell number in my phone. sorry. really sorry about that. i tried though.

paul says warner bros. opted not to pick them up, but they're still checking out some other options. they'll be back out on tour around february and they'll bring macrosick with them. that show's gonna be on fire. they'll release the cd around the same time too. other noteworthy banter... i got to ask paul what earthsuit's "do you enjoy the distortion" was about. he had the coolest answer: "i don't really know!" but the loose theme was "the distortion" referred to the distortion of the truth. i can deal with that.

i asked him what his songwriting process is like and he said they develop over time. some songs like "ok" were written all at once. a few of the new songs for the next album came all at once. where "peculiar people" took 3 years to write. i know. i'm easily amazed. but i just finished writing a song that i had been mulling on and laboring with for over a year. it's nice to know that some of my process mirrors those who i hold to be absolutely freaking genius.

by the way, mae's set wasn't bad. i've always dug the guy's voice, and love their trademark of juxtaposing pristine piano parts with gritty guitar riffs, but paul meany was in the lobby during their set. they just couldn't compete with that. but from what i hear, mute math's short set was said to be the show stealer most everytime. i liked mae though. i bought their album the everglow used, but i listened to it, and it didn't have the magic of destination: beautiful. however, i knew to wait to see them live before making the final decision to sell their cd. they barely made it in by the catchy hook of their song “the ocean”: “you come over announced... / i need you here tonight just like the ocean needs the waves.” though i was incorrectly singing “you come over, in, and out” unawares for quite awhile, it doesn't matter now. the cd stays. i got to chit chat with my musical hero, and all is well.

everything that has a beginning

2005-10-30T01:42:00.000-08:00

i feel “the end” coming. blogspot is fully searchable now. my little pseudo-anonymous stash for my thoughts can be easily found using my real name. i'm none to pleased about it. i have a blog that most people are likely to find... a blog that few people are likely to even check for... and then of course, a “you bet' not tell nobody but God... it'a kill yo mama”-type journal that nobody will ever find. as if anyone's really looking.

“gotta go to place where i can explode / where they don't ask me questions / where they don't even know my name / so i'm goin' to the underground” - bernadette cooper, “the underground”

the point is, i have to find some other place of freedom where who i am and what i think doesn't have to be influenced by the confines of who's looking, who may be upset, who'll misunderstand and then subsequently try to make my life difficult, and you know i don't want to have to cuss nobody out. lawd, please don't let nobody come up to my face trippin' 'cause they didn't like what i wrote in my blog.

solar maximum

2005-10-28T17:36:00.000-07:00

among other things i've learned that may or may not have any pertinent future application, i now know that during the sun's roughly 11-year-long solar cycle, it passes through solar minimums and maximums where magnetic disturbances on the surface are more common, prevalent, frequent, etc.

i could commiserate. right now, there's just a lot more activity going on at the surface that i would really like. visualize me with that disdainful old man face when youthful, boisterous children playing in a nearby pool begin splashing so much that it flecks him with water. there's just too much going on. i'm on sensory overload and i can't really take it all in.

i'm sure Jesus didn't have that problem. with an entire crowd of devotees (and others) all up in his grill, some nameless woman barely touches the bottom of his tunic and he's like "whoa. stop the presses. somebody just touched me." not so with mark, i say. because right now, it seems like most everything is all up in my grill. little kids splashing me. sunspots speckling my surface. professors all wanting me to deliver. bills that demand to be paid. songs that wish i had time to record them. family that... nevermind.

if i were Jesus, right about now, i would probably tell that throng of devotees (and others) to back up off me. or rock one of those classic "peace be still" edicts where nothing living or dead dares make a sound until i say otherwise. or modern living might give way and i instead rock something a bit more matrix-like and just speed up so fast that everything around me appears to go in slow motion.

i can only do what i can do, but i guess my limits are being tested. my comfort zone is being stretched. it's not pleasant, but then again, when is it ever. i maintain that i still love it all even though, it's just upsetting right now. the big picture is overwhelming me, so i think i'll just zoom in real tight on the details that i can deal with... and deal with them. everything else will just have to wait.

“and when my enemies draw near, i pray that they will find that i'm protected and secure. all tempests he will bind with a mighty word. oh how i would have dispaired if you had not come found me there. i can lean against your throne and find my peace... find my peace.” - jennifer knapp, “peace”

stress aftermath (note to self)

2005-10-25T20:02:00.000-07:00

just a note to self for hindsight's sake. i think i understand what's going on (in the aftermath of last week's unduly stressful week). i've noticed that i'm less inclined to be stringent about my committment towards my classes. a little late here, let that assignment slide, be there, but your mind can be somewhere else, etc... see, i was working at a fairly constant effort level for most of this semester. and then me overcommitting myself outside of school, not balancing my time well (read: failing to say no to pointless extracurriculars), and absorbing the shock of the family-related stress put me in the straits. i had to grind extra hard just to get back to a normal level. now i'm tired and spent and just trying to do as little as possible. and i do mean LITTLE. i'm averse to the work now. i'm not quite sure what to do, but i'm going to continue trying to put the pieces together. i'll get some sleep, eat better, consult with God, and engage in some recreation when possible. hopefully that works. i don't wanna get straight B's this semester. 'cause i could really do well on this one. maybe even better than the last.

what am i gonna do now

2005-10-24T14:31:00.000-07:00

“what am i gonna do now / four years past / and still no return / heard a story about you / that said you / went to the moon / had to search for myself / and learn for myself / and be by myself...” - ambersunshower, “running song”

conflict has put the sticks to me. things aren't peachy keen in my immediate family right now. amidst a lot of thought, prayer, and counsel, it's looking like i may need to temporarily estrange myself from my closest relations. don't get me wrong. i've always been in favor of the idea, but the concept of being elsewhere for a major holiday (or two) is normally met with the highest resistance. tall warriors armed to the teeth, strap on double barrel weapons loaded with guilt and point them at the leg that supports my weight. i don't think they want me to get away.

they don't mean to, but they do. they don't understand that they do. and i'm beginning to, myself, understand that they don't understand. it's still a huge risk. and if i'm wrong, i'll be quite wrong. and the ensuing guilt may never let up. i just don't want to continue taking it on the chin to appease them. am i wrong to feel like i don't have to participate with them? is all of heaven going to be against me if i decide to take this step for my own benefit?

i feel tethered by them. and that just sounds wrong. i don't feel enabled, empowered, supported by them. they pray for me... diligently. apart from that, i'm fairly on my own. am i wrong to be so comfortable with that? to prefer it that way? unless posed to God, these are all rhetorical questions. i wouldn't trust anyone else's answer anyway. i don't even trust my own. i just know that i really need to...

scratch that. i don't know how to finish that sentence either.

take care of me

2005-10-22T16:16:00.000-07:00

there were several interesting sounding parties and events to go to yesterday. friday night in los angeles. even among friends at church, it was a high social time. but not for i, said mark. i took my butt home and went to sleep, for this week has been one of the single most difficult of the entire semester for me. with drama on top of work on top of fatigue on top of frustration.

to make a long story short, last weekend, i pushed aside all of the duties i had to take care of to visit my immediate family in my hometown. while the visit was almost all pleasant, just in the last minutes of my visit, my i had a disagreement with my mother which, though i concluded the trip without incident, resulted in me weeping incessantly for the first two-thirds of my already-rainy 90 minute trip home.

i tried to confront the situation with my sister (who was the only one awake), which lead to her being so frustrated that she started crying too... which lead to my mother being pissed off at me for making my sister cry... which compounded further my frustration about her being generally apathetic and invalidating towards my feelings. this is the short version of the story, told chiefly from my side, but the gist is, i've spent most of this week praying to God for answers about the fairly crippling bitterness i feel towards my mother, her house, and the entire city it's in.

after 6 hours of sleep, my face was swollen the next morning. i looked like oprah winfrey as sophia just fresh out of her jail. it was a wreck. i couldn't get a breather though. i had things that had to be taken care of at church, and obligations that had to be taken care of at home. i got what sleep i could and then tried to plug away at it. i didn't make my deadline, but fortunately my client was understanding (and God knows i needed the grace).

i showed up at my day job for 4 hours on monday so they wouldn't think i was completely abandoning them. and then i was on my way to preparing for the next day's trifecta of graphic design presentations in three different classes from 11am to 9pm with only two hours in-between. i didn't make it. i had absolutely nothing to show. which hurt the worst in my evening graphic design class where the critique had to go on without me. keep in mind, that i had worked on and revised my piece for like 2-3 weeks, sacrificing from other classes to develop it more, and in the end, i missed the final showdown. and you better believe i was fighting a whole train of resentful thoughts towards the people who distracted me for this weekend when i should have been taking care of me.

i got reprieve from a couple teachers on tuesday, and then i called my boss and told her i wouldn't be in on wednesday, and i began trying to make my way back to the land of sanity and control. i actually took 2-3 hours to go shopping for clothes. this seemed to stimulate my keenness on color while designing last week, so i decided to try it again as opposed to wracking my brains in my little cubicle at home. so when i finally got moving, i worked around the clock until about 6am the next morning.

i slept for 2 hours and then crammed 15 minutes of study in for my astronomy midterm starting at 9:30am. came back home at 11, threw together drafts for one of the classes i missed, went back to the campus at 3, left the campus to print the project i'd worked on the previous night, came back to the campus and spent a couple hours assembling it, got to class and tried to stay awake for the lecture.

i thought i'd have come straight home and collapsed after that class, but somehow i got home and was wide awake. so i proceeded with my previously abandoned plans to see amel larrieux host bliss live night at the temple bar in santa monica again. God told me it was ok to go and things worked out. a DJ friend of mine worked it out so i didn't have to pay to get in, and i still got to chat with amel briefly, which is honestly all i wanted. what an honor to be able to just go in and see her, then go home and go to sleep. God is amazing.

i had a recollection though. after the amazing grind i went through on thursday, i was still willing to drive a half-hour to a bar, just to see amel larrieux. a very illuminate individual, obviously amel larrieux does something for me. 'cause i should have been asleep. bakersfield however does nothing for me. i believe maybe it might have been God trying to tell me that instead, perhaps, my purpose in having to keep making these trips is to do something for them.

one last hurrah on friday, i had a 2½ hour astronomy lab, and i was free. a friend of mine invited me out to parouse a record store in hollywood, which sounded like a good idea. and then i thought better of it. all though this is one of my boys that i always enjoy hanging out with, i recall once shirking what i really felt lead to do in favor of going out and doing something else, and surprise, surprise... i ended up not enjoying the time at all. i politely called and excused myself. “thanks, but you know what? i don't want to go anywhere. i need to turn off.” i needed not to have an obligation to fulfill for once this week. i needed to recharge.

so i got in my car and went to the barbershop, got beard and moustache trimmed. stopped for a few hours at my pastors' house and just spent time laughing and smiling with people i like. people who don't particularly want or need anything from me at all. oh.. 'twas a great, great feeling. i went from there home and just slept. i didn't set an alarm, i just slept. and when i got up, late in the night, i took my time. and when i got done, taking my time, i leisurely worked on some music. and when i got done with that, i took myself a long hot shower, washed my hair, oiled it, and retwisted it.

and this afternoon when i woke up, i looked like i hadn't been through hell at all. didn't smell like smoke anymore. people, it's a wonderful thing to have peace. if i could, i would say yes to every obligation, every possibility, every opportunity, and save the day for as many people as i can. but that job first and foremost belongs to God. i'll let him be everybody else's hero, 'cause have limitations. mad limitations. i can't even do what i can do for anybody else if i don't take care of myself, because if i don't take care of me... who else will?

if i was a drinker

2005-10-18T19:29:00.000-07:00

i often say this, but it bears repeating.

if i was a drinker, i would be drinking right now. i have had the weekend from hell. scratch that. two of them. and people wonder why monday is my favorite day of the week. tabula rasa.

my priorities have been misaligned, seemingly no matter what i do. i put time and effort into something and it turned out to be worthless. i let something small slide, and it turned out to be a major loss.

"i think i said something wrong. now i long for yesterday."

i know what i did.

scratch that.

what i've done.

and it's thrown me off-kilter spiritually. i'm done though now. i pity the next person to get in my way, because i have no mercy left, and i will mow them down.

DOWN.

the space in-between

2005-10-13T02:20:00.000-07:00

a little kid abruptly stopped splashing around in a pool for a moment to stare quietly and pensively, and then resumed frolicking as if nothing had happened.
an elderly woman slipped into a coma for several weeks, and when she regained consciousness, she hadn't perceived that any time passed by.
a young man narrowly missed being hit by a car, and swears that as he slid out of the way, the car crawled by in slow motion and his whole life flashed before his eyes.
the television reception went on the blink in the middle of a show, but then returned later in the middle of one of the commercials.

there was a long unceremonious pause, and then everything came to life again.

this is what it feels like when i pass through periods in life like the last month. it's like the pace and momentum of everything his bustling and electric, just the way i like it and then, whether subtlely or suddenly life starts going really slowly and all of the sounds are muffled, i don't respond as fast to stimuli in my environment. i feel like i'm sleepwalking through life, and none of it throws my system into shock. i just learn to accept the disturbance until then one day everything arbitrarily snaps back into place and i resume walking at my normal, usual, comfortable gait with bustling electricity all about me.

there are long unceremonious pauses, and then everything comes to life again. but i wonder however about the space in-between. what happened before everything ground to a halt. what absorbed all of that boundless kinetic energy i was exuding? did i do something wrong? (action/sin of commission) did i let something atrophy? (inaction/sin of omission) is there a purpose to these periods? is this just my body's healthy way of recharging during these periods where i feel like i can't get it together and can't get anything done? and why is everything back to normal now? is this just going to happen from time to time? is it out of my control?

the consistency of this last episode, this last month, was odd in that there were plenty of really high points sprinkled throughout the generally low trend. i got to help a close friend celebrate his birthday and his surprise engagement at the same time. i gave away some old clothes and bought some new ones... that helped me step with a little more confidence. i took on the job of supervising and streamlining the media ministry at my church and i seem to be doing well so far. i'm loving every minute of these demanding art courses (stressful and not) this semester now that i have professors who are challenging, and believe in me enough to take out time to help.

on the other hand, i felt fairly sedate whenever nothing interesting was going on (even though i could pull it together and smile and function easily whenever there was a novel event to attend or otherwise stimulating people to interact with). it wasn't one of those spells where i was constantly heavy and wanted to cry all the time. au contraire! i was cool as a cucumber for most of the time, regardless of what was going on. but it seems like, i couldn't "get high" for anything. getting me to go to my job and be productive while i was there was like pulling teeth. especially since my boss finally got the gall to call me on the carpet about my poor performance, generally bad attitude, and ill punctuality as of late. i was beyond excited that she finally said something about the elephant in the room, but i subsequently resented that i had to continue doing this menial unimportant work. fortunately, i had the luxury of working short hours or taking the day off most of the time.

"We'd lived in America for a year and a half and I still really didn't have any friends and I didn't like it... I didn't fit in anywhere because I was the chubby English girl and didn't want to drive a BMW and have a Kate Spade bag and wear designer clothing and be in that world. I went to this place and I sat next to this person and he just started talking to me, and I was like, 'Golly, this person's talking to me. Why?' And then I met this whole little group of people and he goes, 'Oh here, take this. It's really great. It will make you feel really good.' So I took it, and then suddenly I was at the center of attention... In the beginning, you do it because it makes you feel good — and then it gets to the point were it stops making you feel good and you do it because you don't know what else to do." -- Kelly Osbourne on the beginnings of her drug addiction

i didn't know what else to do most of the time either, so i tried several things. i hadn't abandoned God, i still prayed and tried to keep up a steady regiment of worship and communion, but i was impatient and frustrated that answers weren't coming fast enough. there were a couple really destitute periods where i turned to pornography in hopes of getting a "buzz" and that really didn't do the trick. i knew it wouldn't, but i was desperate at the time, tired of fighting to do the right thing and i chose to give up. this apparently left me notably vulnerable. i was walking around without my wits about me last weekend and almost fell into a tryst with a woman i hardly even knew. that's not like me.

i spent more money than i would have liked to... going out with friends to places i wasn't terribly keen on going, buying people things partially hoping that their joy might put a smile on my face... still, it wasn't as rewarding as it used to be. apart from whatever joy it brought them and me enjoying the actual time spent, i didn't feel like i had anything to show for it when it was all said and done. worst of all, i spent time not just by the hours... but by the bushels of hours... by the truckloads of bushels of hours... and i don't know where the time went or what i accomplished in any of it.

i just feel like i accidently misplaced a whole month, like someone would perhaps misplace a twenty-dollar bill. i could begrudgingly accept that it's gone... that is, if i had to. but if it at all possible, i'd really like to have it back. or at least be able to know where it went so i wouldn't just go around, losing twenty-dollar bills all willy-nilly... one here, one there... "oops! lost another one! where do those little buggers go? oh well." no, because if i blithely let things like that go by, well then, in no time, i will have lost enough twenties to pay rent on a small cracker-box-sized place such as the one where i live now. and even here, that's a lot of twenties. and a lot of time...

lost.

"every now and then i can see that i am getting somewhere. where i have to go is so deep. i was angry back then, and you know, i still am, but... i have lost too much sleep and i'm gonna find it." - jennifer knapp, "diamond in the rough"

i'll let you know if i find anything.

half of what you do

2005-10-04T23:16:00.000-07:00

"I just wanna do / half of what you do / and I know it seems so strange for me to say it / if there is a hundred ways to say it / all in one it means / don't go away." - Janet, "One More Chance"

i wonder if this little snippet of song will ever stop resounding in my life. everytime i'm awestruck by some peer of mine being bigger, stronger, and or faster, i hear it play in my head. it has nothing to do with the please-take-me-back context of the song. i just identify so strongly with the emotion. the combination of the melody with the quiet plaintive inflections in the way she says "I just wanna do half of what you do". everytime i see somebody shining so brightly that i temporarily forget all the good things about me, the song plays just that way. not all of it, just that 30 seconds or so.

heh. today, a friend of mine told me, “mark you are the most intriguing person i know.” i thought “wow...” from a cursory glance, i guess i am pretty dang impressive. but then again, so is everyone else on the surface. i've been stepping up my wardrobe, piece by piece, but i still feel like i'm a couple beats behind my fashionista coequals. i've been tempering my naturally unfettered, manic energy in an attempt to be more like the even-keeled personalities that i admire. i don't consider it selling myself out. i guess i'd rather think of it as "endorsed evolution". essentially, it's "monkey see, monkey do" dressed up in trinkets and baubles so as to be palatable to my own snooty intellectual tastes. i see it, i like it, and then wanna customize it and make it part of my world somehow.

those things i see and want to embody so badly appear so readily to me. but the concept of someone else thinking me intriguing has a tendency to go in one ear and out the other. perhaps that's good, because it keeps me from getting puffed up with pride. yet, i wish i could enjoy moments like that more often. read the minds of these people whose lives i momentarily envy and see if there's ever a point where they look at me awestruck with what i've got, who i am, what i do, etc. i'm sure there's plenty of admirable things about me. wouldn't it even be cool if someone was jealous of me too! i'd get such a kick out of that. lol

but whatever. it's a pointless fancy. i can never wallow in this feeling long, because by all rights and means, i got it goin' on. i'm blessed with God's favor, great friends, loving family, and plenty to smile about. i'd rather have that anyway. you can't buy those things like you can a pair of low rise, slim fit, boot cut, rock star jeans.

but look, i'mma get me some of them jeans.

the eleventh hour, the nth time

2005-10-03T01:13:00.000-07:00

i have managed my time badly. i had x, y, and z to take care of this weekend, and i think i dabbled with y... a little bit. the less important, q's, r's, and what not got full attention though. they commanded the entire fleet of my full attention. what do i have to show for it? not much. i did have quite a nice time with some friends this weekend, but it was at the expense of responsibilities that i am not prepared to face up to.

and then, at the eleventh hour, when the task could be postponed no more, i finally squeezed what little effort i could into a small paltry timespace and, with that, barely sqeaked by. yet another time. i wonder if i'm ever going to get tired of this.

cryogenic times

2005-09-29T22:28:00.000-07:00

for those of you who enjoy hearing my poetic voice, i apologize. i had myself cryogenically frozen indefinitely. there's activity going on right now, but it's all beneath the surface. i'm in school 13 units deep. heading towards graduation. loving every minute of it. even the minutes that fall to the ground before i get them in my mouth. i dust them off, pray over them, and enjoy them anyway.

i've been spending my days contemplating design, and my erstwhile hobby is seeing how fast i can spend thousands of dollars in student loans. so far i'm doin' great. i got one check and handle it right nicely by purchasing a much needed software update. i am now a legitimate, legal owner of adobe creative suite 2. the full suite. i feel like a real designer. now, if i could just learn to slap this huge behemoth of a program around and make it do what it's supposed to do, i'll be alright.

another check, and i invested a small amount into music production software (at a student discount) that i had been waiting months upon months through the summertime for an opportunity to buy. it is however taking an inordinate amount of time to ship to my house though, so i'm watching the street for the u.p.s. truck like one of those mervyn's commercials where the chick is tapping on the glass before dawn on sale day chanting "open, open, open, open, open, open..."

another check, and i lumped nearly a thousand on paying off one of those credit lines that was just a sliver away from being 30%. same thing on other debts. i paid "hush money" to every place from whence my regular debts come: the auto loan place, the phone company, my mama. those jerks aren't gonna bother me anymore for several months (not you, mom). what am i saying anyway? she's not supposed to know where this blog is anyway, but just for the record. i meant those bill collectors who called my house multiple times per day, leading me to adopt a regular routine of not picking up my phone, but letting the answering machine screen for me. they've got their freakin' money, now, which hopefully will in time make my credit score a little less horrendous.

well, it's not horrendous, but i don't think it's good enough to buy a house anymore like it was. as if i could afford one in california. which is fine, because the older chick i was into is most likely not into me. at least, not any further than just friendship. it was she who was making me want to go into "be a better man" mode a la jack nicholson in as good as it gets. but i'm fairly ok being single right now. i actually backed over my original choice of words, which was "alone". i may sometimes feel lonely, but i'm rarely ever alone, if at all.

i'm a little more distanced from my church family than i would prefer, but they're only a phone call away in case of crisis. still, my school schedule pretty effectively cuts me out of participation in bible studies and vocal rehearsals. still, i have a new subsidy. in addition to wearing the hat as the guy who quietly does the bulletins every week, i've taken on the media ministry (managing the CDs & tapes). duplicate this, label that. sell this, restock that. organize this, throw away that. i don't consider myself much of a natural leader, but i am naturally anal-retentive. which seems to be working out quite well. for every place where i run don't run the ship tightly, i make up for it by slapping with a ruler the hands of the people who assist me if those labels don't go on symmetrically. or worse... if they go on the wrong bloomin' side. lol

it's a joy though. i feel important. and i need that. God knows i'm not getting it at my day job. after all the slacking and slacking and slacking i've done there (and keep in mind my job function is pretty much as an administrative assistant's assistant), my boss finally called me on the carpet. don't get me wrong though! i was glad! she was long overdue to cauterize the wound that has dragged behind me festering because of her lackadaisical leadership style. she's so sweet and she's so pleasant, but she is passive aggressive as hell. actually i found out worse. she's actually just passive, but she's trying to function in an office where the environment is -- surprisingly enough to me -- wholly passive aggressive.

nobody likes to talk about the elephant in the room. quoth my boss "nobody likes to have enemies." what a sloppy load of laboratory tested and confirmed crap! what they don't like is admitting that they have enemies, when they know this person only fraternizes with that one, and this one pissed the other one off, and they never apologized, but they have learned to smile and display witty banter rather than examine and deal with the issues that feed their dysfunction.

who am i to judge though. i knew my performance was poor, and yet i didn't care enough to change, so why point fingers in retrospect. i just really want to get it together so that once i get a job that i know i'd like to keep, my cycle of accumulating malaisse and subsequent abandonment must stop.

there's more to talk about, but i'd really have to plumb the depths of the quietness that now is my life. and as it is, i've been futzing on this entry for an hour now, which is more than i had budgeted for the blog. so i'll catch you next time i thaw out. peace.

an object in my atmosphere

2005-09-06T03:09:00.000-07:00

“just turn around and i'll be there / i'm movin' into your atmosphere” - tobymac, “atmosphere”

i'm only writing about what i'm certain of, so there's not much to say. there's a woman who i've been spending time with in increasing measure recently. i've known her for about a year. she's a bit older than what i would normally have expected to align with, but i feel very natural and unguarded with her. who i am appears to be who she likes. she's very peaceful and easy-going. i've seen her calm me down in very tense situations. i wasn't sure about her, but recently, i perceived something in her that makes me less afraid of life itself. so i don't know what to do or how to go about it. but if i get the opportunity to keep her in my life, i'm going to take it.

i know something about love... possibly

2005-08-19T20:27:00.000-07:00

whenever i talk about love (that is, love, the fixation, fascination, and #1 pastime in america, not the God-defined love), i generally preface it with some type of acknowledgement that i don't really know what i'm talking about. i have professed at times to have fallen in love, and felt all the feelings, and gone through all the motions. however, then subsequently, love said feelings, stopped said motions, and deemed myself to have fallen out of love.

in hindsight, it sounds rather rediculous. who just haplessly falls in and out of love as if love is some unguarded manhole in the street through which unsuspecting passers-by fall? perhaps when all you know is how you feel, that passive term "falling in love" may be the only way to explain it. i'm a little older now though. i require things in my life to be less haphazard and more controlled. so i prefer to believe now that love is not found or slipped and fallen into... but built. what if you just take the pieces and follow the instructions and voila, you get yourself a true love?

don't form your opinions too early, because this is just my theory and i haven't tested it yet. but research shows, that this whole "waiting to fall in love" or worse yet "trying to fall in love" thing is passe. you see, i'm searching for my own personal brand of victory. i'm at a job that i don't particularly love, but don't intensely hate. i go to it 3 days a week, half-do it and leave. i don't dislike it enough to quit, but i wouldn't need too much motivation and push to let it go. i need it badly enough to tolerate it and put in the least amount of effort possible to keep it. this whole situation is reminding me of a relationship on its way to going sour.

hence, i'm rather proud that i'm still doing it as of mid-august, when i've been wanting to cut it loose since april. this is because i know that in any relationship, be it a lackluster underpaying job or a romantic relationship where there are doubts and unsureties, there will be times when you consider calling it quits. in this case, i've been continuously reevaluating whether or not to hang it up for months now. always looking for reasons to stay, but never really looking for reasons to enjoy it. i'm just trying not to quit, and not trying all that hard at that. perhaps if i can learn to not just keep this job, but to function again in it, then i could say that i've learned something about love.

don't tear my theory apart though. i haven't tested it yet.

maybe i deserve this

2005-08-19T12:13:00.000-07:00

It's true. Life goes around in circles. Sometimes ill happenings that occur are not the so-called fates being cruel or kind. It's just idiocy on your own part. Sometimes you just bring things on yourself. Like when I was growing up, I had a cousin about 12 years my junior who idolized me. I couldn't stand him. He annoyed like those Looney Tunes characters Spike the Bulldog and Chester the Terrier. Chester, ever exhuberant, always wanted to pal around with surly Spike, to which Spike always gave him a backhand in the mouth and flatly quipped "nah." Enough of this and my mother foreboded "you keep rejecting him like that and one day, some woman that you're really interested in is gonna reject you the same way." I'm inclined to blame the messenger, not for the times that it actually did happen and I deserved it, but for all the times subsequent that I didn't.

These days however, it seems like retribution is coming to me in a more direct 1-to-1 fashion with some things. You may or may not have read that I've been recording more and designing less lately. I go through these seasons when I'm highly creative and highly productive and then sometimes I hit "the wall" where everything stops, nothing works, nothing grows, and nobody gets anywhere too quickly.

“I got to pay back. I need some get back. Payback.” - James Brown, “Payback”

Unfortunately for a few of my drag-leg web clients, my patience ran out for these long-standing jobs that had lingered past the threshold of novelty into the zone of tedium. Some of them I jettisoned, and some of them I just ignored as if behind soundproof glass. In some cases, i was just sick and tired of hearing the their voice on my answering machine, and in other cases, I really did want to do the work, but my head was so glutted with minutia that i couldn't do what i wish i could for them. There were times when i avoided their calls... let their e-mails fall like trees in the forest with no one around to hear the sound... for whatever reason committed or omitted, i've let people down, disappointed them, frustrated them, impeded them. Choose your own disheartening verb. I did it. It was me.

Well, fast forward to weeks and months later. Now I'm in recording mode. And I'm at an array of disadvantages, not for talent, mobility, or inspiration, but for faculty. There are some things I can't do and I need other people. Wouldn't you know it. I feel like I've faced a suspiciously familiar wall of dead ends, red herrings, empty promises, and (more importantly) unanswered phone calls and e-mails, like a red sea with no one to part it for me. Whenever I experience such a rebuff, I always wonder... is this just due retribution? Did I do something to warrant this? What if it is fair afterall? Perhaps I “had it coming” like the chorus of vampy murderous female inmates sang in chicago. Maybe I deserve this.

Because I'm aware of Christ's grace, I know that I will always undoubtedly forget to dot an "i" or cross a "t". I don't believe that that alone is a guarantee that I will spend the rest of my life in a miserable existence of reaping repercussions of shortcomings that I was inherently born with. [Sidebar: if you're such a person who does believe that, you might want to let go of that pattern of thinking in hopes of avoiding miserable existences.] Nonetheless, I do believe that what goes around comes around. By this I mean that if you (read: I) sow irresponsibility, inconsideration, and faithlessness, you should not be surprised when you experience it in your life and you should make an attempt to minimize it wherever possible and eradicate it if at all possible.

“Let him that stole steal no more: but rather let him labour, working with his hands the thing which is good, that he may have to give to him that needeth.” - Ephesians 4:28

As a matter of course, I always have to pose the question: What do we do now? Well, you can't change what's done, but you can alter what you will do in the future. I can try to make amends for offenses I've already rendered. I can start by apologizing. (Now that I'm older, my apologizer works a lot better than when i was a teen). If the people aren't too terribly sick of me, I can offer to compensate for what i've caused them to lose. The bottom line is, I don't like what I'm reaping, so I really need to go sow something different.

and if you're looking for me

2005-08-15T02:27:00.000-07:00

“i've been down so long... / there were times i thought i'd never see the break of day... / so night after night, I pray ‘Lord, don't take your joy from me’ / and then late one night / I read in your Love Letter / that it's gonna get better / don't you know that i've been looking for you / i realize nothing else will satisfy me / i'm so glad i found you / now that i'm changed / no one can keep me away from you” - kirk franklin, “looking for you”

it's been a long time...
i hate to leave you...
but sometimes i do when i need to.

like old folks would say, it's been a “hard row to hoe” this week. last sunday's unexpected episode of grief came crashing down and really sent me into a tailspin. i wanted to believe i was ok, but i hadn't recovered from it at all. i spent monday and tuesday struggling to keep my head above water... wednesday, crashing into the water... thursday and friday, under water and mad about it... then saturday and sunday, calling folks to arrange some help hoisting my depressed carcass back out of the water.

it was pretty horrible. i was tired, upset, malcontent, surly. my face was just dark. i wasn't smiling much, unless forced to circumstantially. i don't like that. i don't know how many of you saw me this week, but please make note: “this is what mark looks like when he's having a really hard time”. if i was smiling, it was probably forced. well-meaning, but not natural. if you ever see it again, please pray for me. and if you feel lead to, ask me what's going on.

“they make me mad / i'm not happy / they make me sad / i'm unhappy” - tonéx, “mad”

the sad part is, for the bulk of the week, i had no idea what was going on and why it happened. i just knew i was consummately not happy. i didn't wanna see nobody, go nowhere, do nothing. oh, and don't even think about asking me for stuff. if i didn't wanna do it, it didn't get done. i pretty much did a lot of sitting and wasting time with my arms crossed and lips tightly pursed. i couldn't really even open my mouth to pray.

“keep your heart established. you gotta learn how to keep your heart in a state of constant cleansing. it'll be somethin' that'll attach itself to you in a minute. i bought a white pantsuit in florida... when i got to the airport, i realized... i had a spot on the front of my coat... by the time i got to airport, i had somethin' on my sleeve... when i got on the plane, i went to check my lipstick and turned my head and got lipstick on my collar... by the time i got to montreal, i looked like a dirt devil. i mean, it was horrible!

if that's true in the natural, how true is that in the spirit? you can find yourself in some kinda condition, find yourself in some kinda place where the enemy has total ground. he done messed you up, you don't even know when you got dirty, but the fact is, you are. and see when stuff affixes itself to your heart, it's hard to shake it off.” - minister ralphena dodson

i don't know how whatever it is got to me, but it did. and it got me gooder than i expected. shutup. gooder is a word. and i couldn't shake it off. i had to call some of my brothers at 2:30am on a sunday morning to pray with me, because i was seriously strugglin'.

honestly, i think i had been listening to too much brandy, seal, chaka khan, and other secular singers the likes of which i love, and whose influence is so enriching to my musical palate. still, i think i heard mary mary put it best. those girls have mentioned that they like to listen to brandy and other secular singers too, but they said “if you listen to too much of it, you will have a spiritual breakdown.” that's pretty much what happened to me. all at once, the lights went off in georgia. spiritually, my legs buckled under me, and i couldn't pull my own self up with my own power. it's a very bad feeling.

God prepared me though, he told me maybe last saturday that it was time to take a break from recording. perfect timing. i would have hated to in any way infect the integrity of these songs in progress during my period of funkiness. my mind was inordinately barraged with lustful thoughts, and i could tell that they weren't invited. honestly, i wasn't even “in the mood”, so i knew it was just an ambush attack from the enemy. but for the ways of escape presented (just as God promised he would make available in his word), i would have probably dove head first into looking at some type of pornography. lord knows the temptation was there. i had to leave my house several times during my work day, turn my DSL modem completely off, and one night the Holy Spirit just told me not to even bother going home. i slept over at one of my brothers' houses and then went to my day job the next morning.

now that all is said and done, God willing, i hope that i can put the necessary safeguards on... amp up my prayer and meditation time, and keep out more of the influences that were most likely to blame for the problem. i know that through familiarity, comfort, and just good common stupidity, it would be wholly possible and by no means unforeseeable to repeat the exact same mistake in the near future. so rather than look like a bumbling “idgit” in front of God and country, i think i'm gonna do right this time.

thanks to all of you who were checking on me and praying for me... i appreciate you so much. you know who you are. God bless.

it's been 7 hours and 16 days

2005-08-10T14:46:00.000-07:00

salutations, top of the morning, and good morrow to you, magistrate. thanks for the consolation. hope you're doing well. a lot of time has passed since interaction functionally shut down. just wanted to officially register though. i went and got a life. i found some other similarly nerdy friends online. so i miss you less. but i miss you nonetheless.

“you're dear to me... you know who you are.” (c) amel larrieux

missing

2005-08-08T02:39:00.000-07:00

“I step off the train / I'm walking down your street again / Past your door / But you don't 0live there anymore / It's years since you've been there / Now you've disappeared somewhere / Like outer space / You've found some better place / And I miss you / like the deserts miss the rain” - Everything But The Girl, “Missing”

I still have dreams about my Grandfather. Not often, but consistently. And when I do, they're anachronistic. I'll be living my life as it is today and my Grandfather will walk into the scene as if he hadn't passed on over six years ago. These dreams often take place at the house where I grew up (which has since been sold outside of the family). It's like when my mind gets an opportunity, it always takes me back there even if just for a moment. As if that place where I had always been is still where I'm supposed to be. Home base.

Whenever I have these dreams, they feel so real that it's normally quite a few moments after I wake up before I realize what's real and what's not. Not only did I have today another one of those dreams that mimicked reality. I had an odd anomaly of a moment in reality that mimicked a dream.

Our church visits a convalescent home in South Pasadena once every month. This is something I asked to do, but oddly enough, I always feel a bit averse to going. It is a bit assaulting on the senses to take in directly the ravages of age. Those who have aged, well and those who have aged badly. Normally in enough time, the compassion shows through and I come around when I get to find someone and talk to them.

The last person I talked to was an older Caucasian gentleman named Curtis. Wheelchair bound with both legs amputated, I decided before I left to stop and stoop down and introduce myself. Something about him would not let me pass him by. I found out that he had been a resident in the place for about 2 years, but hadn't stopped by to our one-hour church visit before.

“Please pardon me / But I'm longing to see / I hope you don't mind my staring / I don't mind / 'Cause your face looks so kind / And it's seldom you find someone so daring / You remind me of a friend of mine” - Rufus & Chaka Khan, “Please Pardon Me (You Remind Me Of A Friend)” (1974).

Generally, most white elderly men I see remind me of my grandfather. My papa was an African-American man, but it took him a lot of standing out in the sun to hold much pigment I can't remember much at all of what we said, but I think I mentioned something something about being glad to have met him. He said something to the effect of come back soon, but he said it with a sharp wit and a smile. As I had squat down talking to him, listening intently, I looked in his face, and it was almost like I was seeing Ralph Alexander Coston, Sr.

Suddenly, I was overcome with grief and had to dart out of the room so as not to cause a scene in front of the rest of the people who were there. I couldn't stop myself from crying as if I had just lost my Grandfather yesterday. That whole brief, brief interaction was too familiar and too odd, too inviting and too frightening. It just reminded me in such an intense way that six years later, I still miss Papa terribly. He was my grandfather, he was my dad, and he was one the best friends I've ever had. Once my grandmother passed, it was pretty much just us for the next ten years.

“...Back on the train / I ask why did I come again / Can I confess / I've been hanging around your old address? / And the years have proven / To offer nothing since you moved / You're long gone / But I can't move on / And I miss you / Like the deserts miss the rain”

I'm still not quite sure what to do with this. I remember being 10 years old and not really comprehending how to move on after my grandmother passed away. But after not too much time passed, I was a little more saddened that I was moving on quite well. Almost even forgetting what she looked like. And then I settled into a comfortable life that didn't require her presence to make sense.

Once my grandfather passed away, the first thing I did was retreat to back to my home in Los Angeles, where living day to day without seeing him made sense. So it's rather frustrating that after this much time has passed, I could still feel that type of grief that strongly with that little warning. It's a fault and a liability. Although at this stage, I'm more likely to just hope it doesn't happen for another six years than try and scratch and pick at it to find out why it's happening. I just want to be OK.

whatchalookinat?

2005-08-05T14:21:00.000-07:00

i recently had someone sit-in with me while i was recording vocals for my new album. this is new to me because normally i make it a private process, hit my bad notes in secret, correct and re-record until i get it right and then present the finished product and hope people go "wow" and smile. however, i believe God's told me to not be so "secretive" about the creative process this time. so i've been allowing select people to hear unfinished songs, even invited some other people to sing with me.

i must confess though. this whole someone-in-the-room-with-me thing i'm not liking so much. while they were there, i went into entertainer mode. trying to make sure the guest is comfortable, engaged, not bored, etc. while i was doing this, i was observing and rather critiquing myself. and when they left, i felt like i had failed as entertainer even though that wasn't even the purpose.

i could be wrong. maybe they were as quietly enthralled with the process as i was and just flat with their affect in showing it. very little expression given. maybe they were quietly concerned that inputing their ideas would interrupt the creative process or something, but it made me a little manic. this is new to me. i was missing feedback or something... approval, disapproval, a smile more often than prompted... just some kind of reaction and interaction. really, i think what i was hoping for was something re-affirming, and little if anything was.

so i suppose, given that, i could assume that it was neither here nor there. yet it still resounds to me like a somewhat bad thing happened. it was even bothering me this morning when i woke up, so i just prayed about it and asked God to let me know what i was supposed to do with/about this feeling, and i believe i've gotten one answer already.

what i heard was that i need to get used to being looked at. watched. observed. just like this last tuesday at bible study, riding atop the crested waves of stage fright, singing, playing, and still being functional even while people were watching me, reading my expressions, body language, paying attention to my words, taking it all in and processing it separately in each mind.

in a sense, it's something of a call to examine and re-examine what i'm saying and know that it will affect people's lives, attitudes, interpretations, the way they walk. it's rather heavy. not that i need to use this as an in to give vent to my control freak tendencies and start trying to manipulate people with what influence i have, but just so that i know... people are listening and eyes are on me.

furthermore, it's probably going to take this and a few more such mildly uncomfortable situations so that whether people are present or not, i don't change my behavior patterns to suit them. i need to be able to be myself no matter who i'm around and not be afraid of rejection or misunderstanding (two things that have crippled me quite enough times previously).

i once heard character being defined as what you do when no one else is around. it was said as it relates to not having one way that you act in front of people and then a totally different way you act when away from people. i've got some distance left to cover, but i'm already at a point where i can sing in the car, hit most any note i want at a stop light with the window down and not be concerned that people in the next lane may be staring at me in horror or pleasant bemusement. let 'em look. sometimes i'll even wave and nod and keep singing.

someone lost their faith

2005-08-05T13:23:00.000-07:00

i've recently been getting in contact with a lot of old friends and acquaintances who've dropped off or otherwise gone AWOL in the past years, and i was rather jarred to find out that, in their absence, one of them actually slipped into a bout of crack use. it's odd because i always make crack jokes to/about people. “let the crack go.” “that's just the crack talking. stop listening to the crack.” “uh huh, and would you like some crack with that, perhaps?” in context, i find them funny. however, now that i know somebody who personally has gone this route, it's rings a little odd now.

“someone lost their faith in / seeking God / so they / turned to the needle / back to the cradle” - seal, “dreaming in metaphors” (1994)

it begs the question what could i have done to prevent this? nothing. i wasn't around. i didn't know. and even if i was around and did know, i can't control the world even though i wish i could, and act like i can when i so often try. it just kind of pains me a little when i hear about these things because but for the grace of God, it could be any of us.

did i fail to mention that this is someone who has believed (and hopefully still believes) in God, but somehow their beliefs got diluted or contaminated or otherwise stripped of power? this is someone who ministered to me when i was still young and formative in my faith. how did i find a secure place in Christ and become strong where they slowly, quietly, and calculatively just slipped away from Him? how did they go from rising in temperature to settling for lukewarm, to waxing cold and distanced.

they've become cold and stony and it makes me react in almost a fear reponse to do whatever i need to do to not become them. none of us can really say oh i would never... and be able to back it up, because we haven't seen the future. i can say it's most improbable that you would ever find me doing any kind of drug. i'm too much of a control freak to want to turn it over to some narcotic.

i just saw a news piece of middle-eastern women who amidst the stress of war outbreaks around them, deaths in their immediate families, and censorship from hussein's regime, have become hooked on valium which is a legal drug there. i believe it may even be available over-the-counter. but i'm sure they didn't purpose when they were 13 or 14 years old aspiring to one day live a valium-addicted zombie of an existence.

this is why i so often pray for mercy. i may want to think i'm safe and exclusive and above such things, but as long as i'm human, built from the same materials that everyone else on the planet is, i'm susceptible. i'm not untouchable. and i pray for mercy right now.

jettison cargo

2005-07-29T02:55:00.000-07:00

part of the reason i blog is to keep some type of chronolog of my moods and the swings thereof. i think i was recently quipping to my pastor about how i don't get overloaded and freak out anymore (referring to a previous incident where i couldn't take care of some tasks that i told her i would). well it turns out, that i lied. i lied, i lied, i lied. i spazzed today... just a little. i was overcome with the desire to jettison everybody and everything that looks, tastes, sounds, or smells like responsibility.

one of my clients had been asking for some updates for quite a while and i don't know why, but i had the strongest aversion to doing work for them. honestly, i don't know what took them so long to get frustrated enough to mention said frustration to me (and i hope it's not career suicide to make this readily available on the web), but it dawned on me. the flat phrase “i don't want to do this” kept playing over and over in my mind.

so i'd like to register “job burnout”, “jettison”, “spazz”, and “freak out” as buzz words for future reference and research. i must find out why these things have happened to me cyclically. though my mind is pretty thoroughly trenched in production on this album right now, i can't take all of my problems and “blame it on the boogie”. but i will say this. for the sacrifice that is going into making this album, i fully expects it to be killer. killer i tell you.

by the way, had it been available, i would have specifically posted mariah carey's new single “shake it off” as my choice for what i'm listening to. but seeing as i am, with a classy frantic suave panic, trying to evade responsibility, i'll settle for “emancipation” as my icon this post. it's all the same, right? i still need help.

where i'm hiding

2005-07-20T03:03:00.000-07:00

well, dangit. as of about last week sometime, they found me. after so long as a fugitive from reality, they found me. dangit. my sister found my blog. at least the "outer crust" one that i keep on myspace. well, actually i'm not telling the whole truth. i told her where it was. she asked me. and i didn't feel inhibited at the time. i didn't expect her to frequent it though. or read it. or analyze who my friends are and proceed to make judgements about them. that was so extra not part of the plan. if jen wants to put an artistically nude photo up for her profile, that's her prerogative. personally, i like it. i think it's tastefully sensual. but that's besides the point.

all i know is that now i feel less anonymous and thereby less free, which probably means that i'll return to depositing my truer and more naked thoughts here on blogspot which is about the one place that remains my own. although, i'll miss the attention of the beautiful ladies who i've established very firmly tentative acquaintanceships with, i feel like my space as been a bit encroached upon. i can't say invaded, because invaders never show up with a signed, sealed invitation in hand.

i shouldna done it. what if i wanted to wax poetic or vulnerable or sensual or just hella angry? it almost makes me want to write something deliberately offputting to purposefully send her away. but in doing that, i'd probably send everybody else away too. which then would make it quite a dry experience that even i wouldn't want to be a part of. you see, it was literally what it said it was: my space. i didn't really want to share it. i really didn't. now i gotta pack up all my ish and move. hot damn.

sharks in the water

2005-07-09T11:50:00.000-07:00

bills seem to be swimming around now like sharks threatening to attack. what i will call “the summer phone calls” have begun, when work becomes scarce (and currently the desire to work has become scarce as well), and thus money contracts a little tighter. this is due, that is due. i'm still not worried. but finally i'm concerned. shoot. i might even do something about it before it's too late.

“it will find you at the bottom of a bottle
it will find you at the needles end
it will find you when you beg and steal and borrow
it will follow you into as stranger's bed
it will find you when they've served you with the papers
it will find you when the locks are changed again
it will find you when you've called in all your favors
it will meet you at the bridge's highest ledge
so baby don't look down, it's a long way
the sun will come around to a new day
so hold on... love will find you
hold on, he's right behind you now
just turn around... love will find you”
- nichole nordeman, “hold on”

i do believe God will take care of me though. he's done so through amazing circumstances. just when i'm thinking “where will money come from?” -- i notice that someone has actually bid on the computer that i'm selling on eBay. that's great. i'll get money in my pocket, and some space in my room! i'll admit that life was easier when i was skating through the semester on the glazed surface of student loan money. i was concerned that my happiness was solely because i had income at my disposal. i finding that that is not so. i've faced the phone calls from a few collectors, which tend to fluster, but my confidence is still in Christ. and Christ is still alive and working on my behalf.

bigger than my body

2005-07-08T12:12:00.000-07:00

yesterday, i was in a camera supply store pricing equipment for a photo shoot i need to do soon. and i want this, and i want this, reflectors and tripods, lights and rigs, etc. nevermind the fact that i don't have the money for this stuff, nor even a place big enough to store them all... let alone use them freely. it seems like i'm always trying to buy something extra or acquire something new for a vocation. a faster computer, higher-quality recording equipment, the latest graphic design software, this camera equipment... it prompts me to ask myself a silly question “why you dream so big, mark? why you gotta do so much?” it's silly because i know the answer.

i've got all these things that i can do, and i'm trying to do them all. i've given up (for now) trying to wear every hat simultaneously, but i'm not beyond trying on two at once and eyeing a third while i'm looking in the mirror at what i've already got on. progress is something that makes me very happy and it's only natural for me to want to expand. and as my track record shows, always do.

my aunt and uncle recently purchased a home here in california and the place looks great. it looks like she hired a decorator, but in truth, she did it all herself. piece by piece, she was watching HGTV, got ideas, bought items, and stocked them away, some in their small apartment, some in storage. the point is that when they finally dropped the chips to get this stunning new house, they were ready to go. they were set. it's so clean and set up that they look like they've been living there for a year or more and just have somebody to clean the place weekly.

“someday i'll fly, someday i'll soar, someday i'll be so damn much more. 'cause i'm bigger than my body gives me credit for.” - john mayer

i want to do everything. and for some reason, i don't think that's an unreasonable request. i remember rehearsing choreography for “don't worry (gotcha)” two years ago. and i was trying to sing and dance and do both well. it wasn't going too hot. both were suffering. i was starting to look pretty frazzled. my choreographer tried to help by giving me straight talk and pointedly saying “mark, you can't do it all. you're not superman.” being rebuffed like that on something that i wanted so bad was crushing. i couldn't even make it all the way home before i pulled over into a parking lot to cry and bang my fists in rage against the steering wheel.

i conceded defeat for the moment and only executed part of the choreography in the performance. but i hold a grudge against the particular task that i wasn't able to vanquish and please believe that i will revisit and champion this before Jesus comes back. much in the same way, i have every intention to come out of this life being able to say, i'm a good singer, good writer, good photographer, good dancer, good whatever. the plan is to max out my potential in everything God's given me. and with as much as he's dropped on my plate, it means i have a lot of work to do.

good night, aunt edna

2005-07-06T16:34:00.000-07:00

i found last week that my trailblazing journalist and historian great aunt dr. edna chappelle mckenzie passed away at the age of 81. it was just in march that i regained contact with her and spoke with her for the first time in many, many years. i had hoped to have a chance to perhaps see her in person again, but as a college student, i just didn't have the luxury of hoping a flight to the east coast to reconnect with her and others. she told me several months ago that by the grace of God, she had fully recovered from a bout with cancer. i'm sad to hear that she's gone now, but proud that i can say someone that brave, driven, and accomplished was part of my family. she's lived a lauded life and inspires me to press my own footprints deeply in the ground. so that when my life is over, people will have as many good things to say about me as they have about her. look below, and you'll find several clips of press releases on the internet about her:

http://www.post-gazette.com/pg/05186/532933.stm
http://www.newpittsburghcourier.com/?article=11017
http://www.post-gazette.com/pg/05179/529432.stm
http://www.pbs.org/blackpress/film/transcripts/mckenzie.html
http://professorkim.blogspot.com/2005/06/dr-edna-mckenzie-journalist-historian.html

what matter of discontent

2005-07-02T04:32:00.000-07:00

at this moment, i feel insatiable. lately, i have been restless and intermittently irritable and impatient. towards the beginning of this week, i was so overtaken with obligations pulling me from too many different loci, that i just stopped answering my phone for two days. ironically enough, not picking up the phone resulted in more calls.. and e-mails. i just wanted everyone to go away for a moment. just a moment. i eventually whittled the workload down to a manageable size, but still feel like i'm missing something.

tonight, i just came from a place that was overrun with beautiful women. some of them were noteably intelligent, some of them virtuous, and some i would dare say had the full package of all 3. maybe i'm a really late bloomer (really late), but i think i'm taking to my newfound desire to flirt with too much abandon. either i'm just naturally coming into my own, or getting too far outside myself. either way, i'm not comfortable with it. and then to leave this place where i was lapping up attention from beautiful women like a thirsty dog laps water from a trough and feel like i still needed more, is unreal. it's surreal. it's ridiculous. how could i eat this much and still be hungry?

"i look around and i like everything i see." - rufus and chaka khan, "destiny" (1978)

God only knows why and this is my least favorite type of dissatisfaction. The unfounded type. what is this discontent? what am i missing? what don't i have enough of? what nutrient is lacking in my diet? it's like when you need to yawn, but you can seem to open your mouth wide enough or take in a breath deep enough. it's attribution theory at work. when something is not right, i want an obvious pariah that i can point to and say "you're the problem! my unhappiness is all your fault!" then, i can focus all resources on alleviating whoever or whatever the problem is.

my papa always told me "son, it's not the things you need in life that make you miserable, it's the things you want." God bless him. because sometimes i just need to put myself in check. though i have older sisters, i was the raised like an only child, and spoiled by a loving middle-class family. so i am no stranger to "i want". as a matter of fact, i am well-versed in "i want", "i desire", "give me", "let me have", "sacrifice for me", "add to mine", and "i don't have enough, i'd like some more". perhaps that's what's trying to drive me miserable.

"Hell and Destruction are never full; So the eyes of man are never satisfied." - Proverbs 27:20.

i have checked all the usual places. i had been having difficulty getting to sleep, so last time i got the opportunity, i tried to just give myself some uninterrupted time to rejuvenate. i treated myself to a good meal, because sometimes the body just lacks the needed nutrients. sometimes the body just needs a release of tension, so i made sure i got in nice regiment of pushups, situps, and jogging. i took a walk and just took time to pray and then i took time to be silent and listen for an answer. i didn't hear for a couple days, but when i was most pressed, i believe i heard what i needed to hear.

"what do you not have, that you still need?"

of course, the answer is: nothing. i have food, i have shelter, i have love, i have salvation, i have vocation, i have transportation, i have significance, i have purpose, i have potential... i have, i've got, i own, i possess, i know, i can, i do, i'm able, i'm all of it. i may not claim to be as well versed in "i have" as i may in "i want", but what am i not, that i still need to be?

"i bring myself back to reality / what was i thinking / i have everything i need / i don't want for anything at all / i'm satisfied" - crystal lewis, "satisfied" (2000)

...content.

if my father could see me now

2005-06-28T11:13:00.000-07:00

my mind plays tricks on me. not always so cool. i had a dream about my father last night. i dreamt he had come back from an 11 year stint in prison and was living with my grandfather, chillin'... listening to hip-hop, mistaking some new artist for somebody who was around when he was "out". he was my height, and we did look alike, but he was light complected and he still had a big afro (like in his pictures).

well, i was happy to see him and i remember helping get his luggage out of the car for him, having a brief flare of angy thoughts like "where have you been" and "why didn't you write" that almost made me want to cry and yell, and then as quickly as they flared up, they were doused with water and i smiled as i turned around to hand his bags to him. it was odd to see him hanging out with my grandfather at the old house, lying on the couch... looking like me with light skin and an afro. and i just wanted to stare at him and analyze how much he looks like my uncle. and then i thought. wow. i should snap a picture of the two of us with my digital camera and put it on myspace. (gives you an idea of the timeline in my mind.)

odd though, it must have been 2005, but i was simultaneously running back and forth with a group of teammates for some project oriented competition that seemed to be very "high-school aged" happening at a hotel. i would be bouncing back and forth between being with them and having lost luggage and stopping by my grandfather's in the middle of the day to see he and my father briefly. sometimes i'd be dressed in a really nice black suit and have a lot of apparatus in my pockets (intended for the obviously stealthy project).

and then i woke up and as it always happens, for a few moments, i'm consciously awake and don't realize that the dream i had wasn't real. and i wanted to go and see him and take my camera and get that picture or something. then as i rolled over, it dawned on me that i was actually in 2005, neither my father nor my grandfather were still alive, nor were his house in bakersfield even in our family anymore. and i certainly wasn't in high school. and at this particular time, i'm not even in college (at least not until fall).

i think it had something to do with talking to a friend last night about working temporarily until her son starts school in the fall. and said son is currently living with his father who had been in prison for most of his life. so it's that transferrence thing. then my thought was "ok, why? 'cause that was such a tease." and not very often but every now and then, i have these anachronistic dreams having to do with my father or my grandfather (in this case, both) where who i am today gets to meet with who they were before. which also reminds me of an obscure thought i had friday afternoon... "if my father could see me now". which was a take off on the title of a linda clifford album i had as a kid called if my friends could see me now. you know, i really didn't take much thought to it beyond that it would make an interesting blog title as i was walking past mcdonalds on the way from work to my car (yes, i remember what i was doing when i was thinking that).

it's interesting though how it synthesized into the dream i had this morning. i think it was walking past that building with the reflective glass and seing how different i look now. i don't know what my dad would think, but i know first, my grandfather, a barber of 40 years, would be angling to cut my hair. (lol) i think overall though, he'd be proud that i could write and speak well and have only a year left before graduating college (after all, his main proddings to me were always to get an education and to have control of the English language). and plus, i don't have any kids yet and i think he'd be really happy about that.

i think maybe my dad would be proud that i've become a really good singer and pianist, since he was always into music. and he would be really flattered that i'm into music the way he is. even now there are at least 2 keyboards and 2 guitars in my view, and compact discs literally surround me. i think he'd be impressed to know that i'm beginning to learn guitar, since that was his main instrument. he'd be glad to know i never experimented with drugs (as he was purported to have done). maybe he'd be disappointed in my lack of sentiment towards the army where he served for so long. and disappointed that the relationship between my mother and i went so badly south 10 years ago even though it's so much better now.

i have no idea what he would think about my sister (his other daughter) who i've had such trouble forging a relationship with at all. i don't know very much about her beyond knowing what she does, who her immediate family is, and having spent a some time with her when she was in high school. but now i'm getting off topic and wasting time getting back to work on the project that i have to finish today. it was just a dream anyway. no need to delay the necessities of reality for much longer.

every now and then i can see that i'm getting somewhere

2005-06-24T12:40:00.000-07:00

in case you didn't know, i've been pulling double duty at my other blog across town. i've been cheating on my beloved blogspot with daily rendezvous at myspace. i'm still keeping this one as my quietly locked away "first-love" blog so that i can still be candid and maintain some anonymity when i need to.

so. the topic of the day... baby steps, baby steps, baby steps. i'm changing and i think i like it. i'm past 25 and it's not disasterous. i'm very much lovin' it. so check it out. wednesday night, by happenstance, i got into a cleaning mode and actually succeeded in clearing away enough junky bulk from my floors that i was able to... *gasp* vacuum it. if you walked into my living space, you might even think i was a neat freak. well, there's a method too my madness, but a neat freak i'm not. whatever. that was not the point.

and this isn't either. but it's necessary foundation. since the floor was cleared out, i actually had space to dance. normally, when there's so much junk on the floor that i only have space to rock gently from side to side. but now i can move and turn and jump and whatever i want. i had to bust out some old school TLC and cut myself a slice of rug in honor of them finally releasing their greatest hits album stateside. can't believe they've essentially come to an end, but the point is... that that's not the point either.

here's the blasted point. as i was jumping around and shaking my groove thing with abandon, i noticed in the mirror that my arms are beginning to look defined. if i didn't know better, i would swear i was grown folk. or close enough. i find this amazing. my work out regiment hasn't been rigorous or strenuous, but i can tell i'm becoming more fit. i went from those initial 3 push-ups that i thought were going to kill me, to doing a full set of 10 of them to doing multiple sets of 15. a friend of mine has me randomly going jogging with him 2 to 3 times a week late at night when the california heat doesn't mercilessly oppress the innocent beings beneath it.

plus, another friend of mine was telling me about dips: the exercise where you lower and raise your full body weight just using the strength in your arms and upper body. well, when he explained the concept, it sounded great on paper. i tried to do one, and all i could manage was lowering my full body weight. raising it just wasn't gonna happen that day. so he chimed in, that i may have to help myself up with my feet when first starting off. well, that's exactly what had to happen for a couple weeks. but lo and behold... *drum roll* one day... *drum roll continues* i completed... *interjecting an american idol sized amount of unnecessary suspense* without any help from lower extremities, a full dip. *gasp in amazement, pause, and cue applause*

yeah, me, the once consummately frail bean pole, did a single dip, lowered and raised. all by myself. clap for me and put my picture on the refrigerator. it's wonderful... marvelous. you should care for me. i'm downplaying it, because i'm sure somebody reading this has massive arnold schwarzenegger arms and is laughing a hearty laugh at me, maybe even with a derisive austrian accent. but freak that! this is BIG for me! it's momentous! i did a dip. i was so happy, i had to call my erstwhile trainer immediately after in the middle of the night and tell him about it. fortunately, he's nocturnal like me, so his enthusiasm for my progress wasn't mitigated by the fact that i was calling around 12 o'clock at night.

i'm glad though. now has got to be the time to establish the physique i wanna keep, 'cause i've heard that the body you have at 30 is about the one you have for the rest of your life. sounds like urban legend, but if there is any validity to it, i'll be ready for it at this rate.

“every now and then i can see that i'm getting somewhere, where i have to go is so deep.” - jennifer knapp, “diamond in the rough”

let's go make some noise

2005-06-17T13:34:00.000-07:00

so, getting back to the world-rocking mute math concert i went to at the top of this month, i heard darren king say something that sent my wheels buzzing. this girl was asking him when they were going to record their next album and he commented that the next month or two was going to be set aside just to recording some new music. and i believe i heard him say verbatim, "man, i can't wait to get into the studio and just make some noise!"

noise, huh? that's how all of that brilliant music starts out? you don't sit down expecting to great a masterpiece that people will want to enjoy over and over again and tell all of their friends about? you just wanna go make noise? i'd just gotten "enlightenment" from, young as he is, a musical mentor of mine. this was absolutely amazing to me. it's like you told me to eat my pizza crust-first. and he was so eager and enthusiastic when he said it. the fire lit right then. the idea of order arising from chaos... wow. fascinating, 'cause lemme tell you. i've got plenty of chaos to work with. i looked at my floor this morning and i wasn't sure what was carpet and what was clothing and papers.

i think the coolest thing about this mini-epiphany though is that i know what he's talking about. one of the sound designers who helped me with my last album liked nothing better than to sit and synthesize sound waves out of nothing. either that or take an existing song and then twist and contort it until it was unrecognizable. you would never know that the loop that makes my song "if you listen" listenable started out as some eric b. & rakim song from paid in full and then came out of a chain of filters as some curiously funky marine-like aural entity. i want to do that now! i want to go throw caution (and engrained classical piano training rules) to the wind and see if i can come up with something that makes my own jaws drop. something good enough to make other people stare at me in amazement like i do for so many others like the guys in mute math.

i've been so long away from the ability to make music that it's really about all i want to do these days. i'm using a program called Reason Adapted Express (which is the light version of Reason Adapted, which is the light version of Reason). one of the newer pieces of music synthesis software for precisely "making noise". i can't wait to get the full version of Reason 3.0 so that i can really dig into the functionality of it, but in the meantime, i'm taking the two-instrument, one-drum-patch limit, and maximizing it. i've begun rough ideas for about 8 or 9 songs, and right quickly too. it's like there's gridlock in my head with all of these songs trying to crowd out the door at once. you'da thought somebody yelled "fire" inside a packed theatre. the more the merrier though. everybody out. ;)

cookies need love (like everything does)

2005-06-15T02:46:00.000-07:00

i think i'm ready now. it's been erstwhile in the back of my mind, but now, a safe 2½ years since the end of my last relationship, i think i'd like to try again. even though money's not quite flowing like i like it to. i blame it on t.v. romantic comedies are sometimes worse than food commercials. their sole purpose on the earth is to dress their product up so good that you'd step over your own mother to get it. (by the way, did you know that when fast food restaurants have the principle photography done for their burgers and fries and what not, they actually have make-up artists for the food?)

all that aside, it's working. i think i've learned a lot in 2 years. i've taken distinct pains to make myself a better person, and i mean that almost as much literally as i do figuratively. i didn't do quite as well as i wanted to last go round, but i acknowledged most of those mistakes and actually invested some time and effort towards fixing them. i believe i'm more formidable this time, and i would like to vie again.

“by-ah-dah, finding a reason to fall away (do it again) / by-ah-dah, never a solution to reasons that i stray... / so I say I won't fall / I'll be encouraged and stand tall / and proclaim that you prove me / time and time again / try me, Lord, try me / try me again / I'm willing to be used by you / try me again / because at the time that I failed / I really should have prevailed / try me again” - Kim Burrell, “Try Me Again”

now, i say this fearlessly because i'm confident that God won't allow me to be tempted beyond what i can bear (I Cor. 10:13). also, i'm confident because God is my confidence and he will keep my foot from being taken (Prov 3:26). and i don't believe that if I ask for love, that God will instead give me "a scorpion" (Luke 11:11-13). so i'm no longer (so much) afraid that there is some drop-dead gorgeous female hellbent on my destruction who only wants to seduce me, turn me into her baby daddy, guilt me into marrying her, and make my life a living hell until death do us part. on the contrary. i've met some really nice women. and i've also become a lot less selfish with my time. shoot. i'm a lot less selfish period. now, i'm grounded though. i have not lost myself by far. however, said self is on a leash. and i feel more controlled, stable, balanced.

Oracle: Please. You and I may not be able to see beyond our own choices, but that man can't see past any choice.
Neo: Why not?
Oracle: He doesn't understand them, he can't. To him they are variables and equations. One at a time each must be solved and counted. That's his purpose: to balance the equation.
Neo: What's your purpose?
Oracle: To unbalance it.

i deal in control pretty often when i speak about myself. and right now, i'm shopping. i'm looking to sell-off a bit of my control to a suitable buyer. i'm game to maybe let a regulation amount of unbalance into my life because? well, maybe i need more hobbies, but it's not like i'm ever at a loss for what to do. recently, the social life that i've always begged for tried to run me over in the middle of the street. every friend and cohort calls on this cell phone (that i did not necessarily want) wanting to kick it, or to come over, to go out, or just to chat. it's a little overwhelming. and yet, i'm professing that i want this.

like i said, i blame t.v. another thing i've been watching recently is the family man. a quiet favorite of mine. i don't watch it all the time, but whenever i take a notion to slide it into the DVD player, i enjoy it immensely. for i identify strongly with nic cage's character having "everything" in his corporate-driven though "utterly alone" bachelor's lifestyle... and then trying to reconcile that with the idea of having a different set of "everything" in the college sweetheart he left behind. getting to see two different prongs of possiblity is wholly stimulating to me. you know i'm big on choice, right?

the caveat is that i know that in lauded relationships as these, when they appear on screen, the nerve-wracking discomfort of attempting to form such a strong bond is always downplayed. in real life, said discomfort is fully felt. and you should know that i don't like my nerves being wracked. i think i can make it though. "i think i can beat mike tyson." i think this time, i might not go running for the hills if she accidently does something that reminds me of my mother's unpleasantries. shoot. if she's a wildcat and cusses me out the first time i get on her nerves, i might just want to marry her.

a night to remember

2005-06-02T16:07:00.000-07:00

People, I just saw the coolest show on the planet. I finally got to see Mute Math live at the Viper Room in Hollywood. OK, quick background: everything started about 5 years ago when the band Earthsuit first dropped their album Kaleidoscope Superior. I've got "buttons". I'll listen to Amel Larrieux or Sade to press the coolspiritual button. I'll listen to Sting or Seal to push the intellegent button. I'll listen to Chaka Khan or Karen Clark Sheard to rawemotional button. Or Michael Jackson to push the dontstoptilyougetenough button. Well... when I first heard Earthsuit's "Whitehorse", it pushed like 5 buttons. So at that point, I instantly became a fan and loudunstoppable advocate of the band. You can imagine that I was pretty crushed when they were unceremoniously dropped from their label a couple years later. Me and my friends mourned and even drew up tentative plans to take over the Sparrow Records building and hold somebody hostage until they resigned the band, but that just never panned out. Earthsuit's members split up and became two bands: Macrosick and Mute Math.

This has been a bumper week because not only did I see Mute Math here in L.A., but Macrosick just happened to play a free show at the Key Club just down the street from the Viper Room the day before. That was a thrill and a half because not only did I get to meet dc Talk's Kevin Max (who was so cool and down to earth) at the show, but while performing, Macrosick called members of Mute Math up to the stage to help them out on one song. So it was almost like getting to see Earthsuit play! Finally, about the coolest thing of the night was getting to present Greg Hill of Mute Math with my redesign of their Reset EP artwork (I'd post pictures of it, but I gave one copy to my class instructor and the other to Greg, so I have to print and assemble another). I have to toot my horn though because I thought my artwork was great! Mua ha ha ha ha! It came complete with lyric insert and special edition slipcase. It was the final project for my graphic design class this semester, but it just worked out that it coincided with the perfect timing of them being in L.A. That's not all though. I haven't gotten to telling you about the Mute Math show last night!

OK, it's a shame, but I had planned to caravan about 5 or 6 people with me to the show, but after last minute cancellations, only 3 besides made it in because of last minute cancellations, and just the simple fact that the show was near-sold-out when we got there and some of my friends couldn't even get in. The band's management agreed a couple weeks ago to put me on the guest list in exchange for passing out flyers and putting up posters in advance, but I wasn't sure if I made it on the list and the bouncer at the front door was being kinda hardnosed about it. One of the band's roadies named Joe heard what was going on though and gave a holler to Kevin from their management (The Kookoogey Group), and got both me and my friend onto the guest list.

Once I got in, I was surprised how small and tight the Viper Room was. Opening up the show was Mat Kearney. I heard some of his songs before, but he's got a different vibe live. He handled his acoustic set alone on either guitar or keys which I have so much respect. Plus, he's pretty funny without trying hard to be. The best part was when he couldn't find his pick, he played the rest of his set with a quarter that some guy in the front row gave him. That was great man. I felt bad though because all through his set, I kept ducking down in the front row with my cell phone to consort with the friends who were in line outside waiting to get in. Two of them in the front of the line eventually got inside in time for Mute Math's show, but the others were so far back that they gave up.

So, I had a singular goal when I got to the show. To be front and center, making a proper idiot of myself. And I am proud to say -- I accomplished this task with flying colors. I was already uber-excited about even seeing the band, so when they took the stage no more than a couple feet away from my face and launched into "Chaos", I went off like a firework and didn't stop until after... well, I didn't stop. I sang every lyric and ad-lib to every song I knew all night long. It was absolutely great.

Next in the set was "Plan B", which they slowed down a little bit for tonight's show, but it was the perfect tempo to rock to. One thing I have to say is that Darren King is a freakin' amazing drummer. My friend Aaron pointed out that he was playing on a really stripped down set. Just a kick, snare, single tom, high hat, and cymbal, but the sound that came out of it was awesome.

Next, the guys did two new songs, "Stare At The Sun" and "Noticed". I didn't know the lyrics so I forced to enjoy them quietly... for the most part. I did take the opportunity to bust out my digital camera and take some shots of the band. And I know it was rebellious and derelict of me, but even though I saw the sign posted at the entrance that said "absolutely no audio, video, or camera equipment", I figured I wouldn't get thrown out of the venue on one warning. I had to work quickly and pick and choose my moments, but I got a few shots before a bouncer tapped me on the elbow and gave me the "put it away" signal with his professionally furrowed brows. You can't be mad at him though. That's his job.

That's why I didn't get any pics of Mat Kearney though, which sucks 'cause he had a really cool outfit on that I wanted to see if one of my friends could recreate for me. I got a couple really cool 30 second clips of the band though. At the perfect time too. Paul Meany was rockin' the famous keytar that he uses to trigger samples live and using it to play a solo while standing on top of his Rhodes keyboard. Not a fake one though -- a real, genuine Rhodes. If that isn't literally cool on top of cool, then it's just not possible. I wish I had gotten some shots of Roy who was doing double duty holding down those hefty basslines and alternating playing this mic'ed-up kick drum like a gong. It was great. It made your heart rumble like a good 808 does. You could feel it all thru the room. To top it off, as Paul was walking around the Rhodes to put the keytar back on its stand, he gave me a quick pat on the shoulder and said "thank you so much" before sitting back down. I think he shook my hand from the stage too. If not then, at some other point during the show. It was unreal the amount of love I got. Too good to be true.

The energy kicked back up fever pitch as soon as Greg Hill played the opening guitar riff to "Reset". Even though the song is instrumental, the music itself speaks... and the only thing I could reply to what it was saying was: "Wow." It's one of those songs that just takes you somewhere. I love it, and I couldn't believe I was getting to watch it being recreated live and authentic right in front of me down to stereodelic samples that lead up to the breakdown about 2:30 minutes into the song. Even though Paul had gone all the way over to the other side of the stage to trigger samples, he completely made it back to the Rhodes in time to pick up the melody right where it's supposed to be. I think it was during "Reset" though that everybody was floored when Paul ripped the rop off of the Rhodes in the middle of a solo and continued literally banging out the music by hitting what looked like the hammers of a piano that are underneath the "hood" of the Rhodes. A-freakin'-mazing. Out-freaking-standing. Un-freaking-believable.

By now, I was way past "in awe", 'cause I'm used to singing these songs full voice with the music blaring through me and back out my window while I'm in the car. I've been doing that for 9 months now consistently. To be having the sound blare at me having come directly out of Greg, Paul, Roy, and Darren in person. So when they dropped the big booty bass beat of "Peculiar People" next, I just knew it was so headbangin' time. My dredlocks were floppin' everywhere without abandon, but I wasn't alone... another fan (Orlando) was on the other side of my friend Aaron lovin' it just like me, man, and his head was straight up clean. He came all the way up from like San Diego to come to the show, so I know it must have been amazing for him. Might I add that it was hella diggable to sing the harmony parts to the chant they do after the chorus... it was just like in my car... hehehe!

This whole show had been an indescribable high for me, so when Paul announced they were gonna play "Control" next, I knew it was almost done. I didn't have time to lament it though because my guys were busy playin' the joint. And even if I felt like I was the only one singing along before, everybody joined in on this one.

To everybody's delight, Paul then announced that they had one more song to do before closing, another new song called "We All Break The Same". I can't wait to get the CD and pore through the lyrics when it comes out, 'cause it seemed like it had a lot of substance to process through. Weighty like something Kevin Max or Sting himself would have been right proud to record. It was during this song that Paul rocked his coup-de-grace taking a turn playing both the kick-drum-a-la-gong that Roy was playing earlier as well as a hand-muted crash cymbal that had a mallet-shaped gash in it on the other side (most likely from some other show where it gave out during a similar performance).

And then the most unbelievable finale for me. Paul had the keytar again, but this time instead of playing melody lines, he was just smashing keys and putting out a melange of sound. He was almost uncomfortably close to me while rocking out -- like 6 inches away from my face -- so I started to back up when I noticed him motion to me to "do something with the keytar". It must have been hilarious to bystanders, because I recall giving him the "you want me to what?!" look. He demonstrated by mashing a whole section of keys with his left hand and then indicating that I do the same on cue. Still in disbelief, and wide-eyed with my expression now having changed to "are you sure about this?" I pressed down on three keys with my middle, index, and ring fingers to test the waters when he gave me the signal. Then he concurred with a nod and reiterated in action to just go all out. And when I finally got bold enough to use my whole hand to span across the keys, he nodded and smiled approvingly and had me repeat this two or three times to the rhythm.

Remember when I said "A-freakin'-mazing, Out-freaking-standing, Un-freaking-believable"? Well add to that, un-freaking-real. I did not get to play the trademark instrument of the frontman from my favorite band during a concert where I got in for free. All I ended up paying for was $10 for parking and $15 for the Mute Math T-shirt that I knew I would kick myself if I didn't purchase.

I was on overload man. How many Cinderella-type experiences can one man have in the span of a lifetime? Amel Larrieux, Crystal Lewis, Mute Math, pretty much everybody musically significant to me, God has allowed me to touch in someway. I'm humbled, bowled-over, and short-circuited with incredulous joy. These guys are all so cool though. After the kick-butt show they put on, I would have understood if they came off the stage speaking in 3rd person about how good they were, only interrupting their speeches to pause and pose every few seconds like The Rock^TM. They were just down-to-earth, talking to everybody while they were loading gear into their trailer.

Still, I had to revert to my long retired groupie nerd style and ask for autographs and pictures. Greg, Paul, and Darren all signed my Reset CD and as if I couldn't be any more floored, when Greg noticed my thin li'l Sharpie was drying up and running out, Greg grabbed a fresh one and had the guys re-sign. Then when we took the group picture, not only did I get the whole band in one place long enough to take the photo, but Roy Mitchell-Cardenas (formerly of Earthsuit, filling-in on bass guitar tonight) was in the pic too, and I even got one with Adam LaClave (formerly of Earthsuit, now the frontman for Macrosick) jumping in at the last minute, but that one came out blurry.

Hey, I forget to mention one of the coolest things though. Tonight in Hollywood was the last show of The Reset Tour which included 40 club dates all across the United States. How fitting was it that on the last hit of the last song, the same drum head that Darren had played for the whole tour finally ruptured. And as the me and the rest of the crowd were cheering our heads off, Darren threw his sticks and the piece of a broken drum right about in the direction of me and my friend Aaron. I picked up the drumstick and he picked up the drum head. Does it get any cooler? Darren even autographed the drum head too. I think the stick speaks for itself. Wow. Wow. Man. Wow. That's about all I was saying for the rest of the night, and I'll never forget it not even when I'm old and gray, that is unless I decide to be one of those grandfather types who still dye their hair black. Heh.

This was the set list:

Chaos
Plan B
Stare At The Sun
Noticed
Reset
Peculiar People
Control
We All Break The Same

2005-05-28T05:39:00.000-07:00

if i can get financial aid to cooperate, i would like to take a summer school course. all stress and madness aside, i had a great time. i feel like those mothers who are disposed to forget the nearly unbearable pain they had to endure only hours earlier because they're looking at the beautiful product of their labor and suddenly all is forgiven.

as much stress as i went through this week, i can't believe... i want to do it again. i want to wait in line to ride the tall, fast, scary ride one more time. really, i started celebrating thursday. there was an impossible 10-page research paper i had to turn in on western vs. eastern interpretations of 19th-century Japanese art. though i had done research ahead of time, assembling it all into some cogent form was as daunting a task as any... even for me. and i consider myself got writer.

aside from japanese history, the last two weeks have been all about mute math. mute math, mute math, mute math. no, not an esoteric form of algebra, the band that has fast become the musical equivalent of a "patron saint" for me. my pièce de résistance culminating this crazy week was a reworking of the cd packaging for their reset EP, released september 2004. even though trying to tighten up that research paper at the last minute made me nearly one hour late to present the piece in front of my peers, i still got an A on it. that made me happy. the timing couldn't have been better because they'll be coming to perform in los angeles at the viper rroom this wednesday and i will so be there. posted. as close to the front as i can possibly get. (as a matter of fact, i just came from scoping out the sunset strip in advance and canvassing it with mute math posters).

in other news, my graphic design course is highly unlikely not to garner me an ace. the lowest grade i got on any of the 3 projects was an A-. the website i presented in my web design class -- which will eventually go online -- i expect to get very high marks from. because i put my foot into that one, even though it didn't fully fit in (i expected to do more with concept than time allowed).

the sad story seems like it will be the two upper-division history courses that were set one day apart from each other all semester long. i studied like mad for the japanese art history final (which i did fairly well in all year long), but i feel like i made a terrible showing on the test. i considered my italian & spanish 16th-century art & architecture course (which floundered consistently from the first class session to the very last) a lost cause and didn't even look to it too much more than to go over some flash cards moments before the test. that one, i feel like i did surprisingly well in because i was tested mainly on things i knew.

still, i'm glad to be done with it all. i will miss the great friends i've made (hopefully they won't disappear off of the face of the earth as if we'd never met), and even the teachers who were nemeses to me for the whole semester. yesterday i came straight from my class into the cool of my room and danced with myself until i feel better. anytime i come to a denouement in a spring school semester, i tend to want to reach for the same playlist. songs that came out around the summer of 1990 when i was saying goodbye to elementary school friends like Troop's "Spread My Wings" or Janet Jackson's "Love Will Never Do (Without You)" or kitchiest of all, this uber-90's house mix of Paula Abdul's "Forever Your Girl" from her Shut Up And Dance album. Yeah, I'll have to tell my kids about the Paula Abdul/Janet Jackson/MC Hammer fascination one day and have them giggle and laugh at me.

i am free

2005-05-28T04:32:00.000-07:00

ok, i'm happy right now, and i wanted to blog while i'm happy just so that there is some official evidence of it on the record. not just so that you who are paying attention to me will dismiss your thoughts of me as one eternally malcontent. but just so i can take this feeling i have now, and bottle it like a fragrace, so that one day when things aren't going to well, i can uncap the record of this happiness and fill my nostrils with it until things feel better. for yesterday, i finished my last final in the last class of the semester, and now?

i am free.

"i'm takin' my freedom / pullin' it off the shelf / puttin' it on my chain / wearin' it 'round my neck / i'm takin' my freedom / puttin' it in my car / wherever i choose to go / it will take me far / i'm livin' my life / like it's golden" - jill scott, "golden"

it's true. i did have to take my freedom, fold it up, and put it away on a shelf somewhere. i never surrendered my life entirely to school because i admittedly didn't want to lose my mind for education's sake. but i can say without hyperbole though that school held did hold said life 55% engulfed in its gaping jaws for 4 months straight. to finally be released for an extended break feels indescribable. the only thing i could really do to express my life was dance. all by myself, in my room, featuring me... as the DJ. bouncing happily from nicole c. mullen's "without you"... to joyce sims' "looking for a love" (a 1989 freestyle classic that always reminds me of those carefree summers as a child)... to loose ends' "don't be a fool"... to coming home specifically to buy a download of jill scott's "golden". it just felt appropriate. a song lauding the beauty of owning the freedom in your life. it was perfect for the occasion and my favorite time of day when the sun turns golden and sprays orangy brilliant light sideways along everything as it sets.

maybe that's why i don't blog when i'm happy. for all the words and turns of phrases that i've collected so that i can adequately express myself, nothing in my arsenal comes close to doing the job. searching for those words sometimes is like staring blankly at your closet trying to decide what to wear on a day when you want the entire world to know how in love you are... or how angry you are... or how sharp and formidable... or sexy... or vulnerable. you would have to see me smiling. hear the elevated tone in my voice. know me on a regular day in order to tell the difference in the rhythm of the way i walk when some kind of joy makes me light on my feet.

if i could try and describe it. it's akin to being like a young child in a field that stretches out as far and wide as the eye can see, and then taking the energy and the drive inside you that has been repressed and restrained for so long... and unleashing it to be wild and colorful and untamed, as it's supposed to be. to run as far and as fast and as long as you want... just for the sheer delight of running.

i did that tonight. i loaded into my arms a stack of old books up to my chin and carried them like a funeral procession to bury them back at the library from whence they came. and having received closure, i threw all structure and restraint out of the window and wandered. at midnight. when not a soul is around. and i can feel like the city is a place that only i own to be treated as my own personal amusement park. enjoying the coolness of the night air, taking delight in the symmetrical formations of amber street lights that decorated my way, appreciating the grayish peach color of reflected light from the city on a marine layer of clouds.

i could have gone straight home, but i stayed to listen to the sound of rushing water coming from an illuminated fountain nearby. i just stopped and sat and let my mind be entertained by something as simple as the shadows that the coruscating water projected against the concrete. i had to be hedonist just for a moment and relish the rich flavor of what peace of mind tastes like when you haven't had it for awhile. it suffuses all of me slowly with well-being and gratitude and i am thankful to God. not only for times that are kind to me, but also for the security of knowing that when times not so kind? God guarantees that they will be impermanent.

"He is my light and my salvation
whom have I to fear
in His secret place I'll hide
and pray that I might hear
a simple word

and when my enemies draw near
I pray that they will find
that I'm protected and secure
all tempests he will bind
with a mighty word

oh how I would have dispaired
if you had not come found me there
I can lean against your throne and find my peace
find my peace."
- jennifer knapp, "peace"

to come full circle, i do recall not too long ago being a little overcome lamenting the loss of loved ones and fun times that once brought me joy, but had since become inaccesible to me. however, i was holding to the unfounded belief that a new joy was somewhere in store for me. i was not willing to accept that what i had experienced up to that point was all that there was and that happiness of that level was consummately done, never to return to me. i didn't feel the fruition of it at the time. as a matter of fact, i'm pretty sure i just felt crappy, but i believed it would come around again. so as it is upon me right now, let the record also show... that i was right.

abandon

2005-05-24T23:01:00.000-07:00

"close your eyes
and rest your tired body next to mine
nobody knows more than you
these hard times that we're living through
but baby we'll go on and on
lord knows we've got each other
so kiss me hard and long
hard times
we can get over"
- queen latifah, "hard times" (1995)

i would like the record to show that in the weeks that have passed without many words from me, life has been good. better than good. richly and unbelievably blessed. this further underscores the unfortunate trend that when my life is ethereally full of joy, blissfully peaceful, and i am consummately glad to be alive, i get so wrapped up in enjoying to the fullest what's going on, that i do not write to try to capture some record of said feeling for any future reference. furthermore, i've established something of a nice "level" of writing here that i'm comfortable with. so, frivolous emotional blurps of day to day things that no one cares about... i actually blog on my myspace page now. why? because the subject "things that no one cares about" seems appropriately placed on myspace. i feel no pressure to be witty. and really, there's no pressure here either, but it's a function of my own desire to put effort and thought into this since i know people actually are listening.

that said, so i'm back tonight because i'm not happy. i don't think i mentioned in my absence that i met amel larrieux (yet again), that i've had a great time with friends at school, and church family, i've been working out and really feel good about the way i look (even though no one else could possibly notice yet), not only am i "lovin' what i see", but i'm lovin' how i sound too... my voice is demonstrating a maturity that's impressing me lately... i'm creative and swirling with new melodies i can't wait to record, i'm looking at children and thinking ahead to the future, receiving the coolest unprompted compliments from nowhere, and hard times aside, i'm not too burnt out to want to squeeze in at least one summer school class...

but something happened. and now i'm not happy. i conveniently forgot most of the above. i'm rather consumed with these finals and all the trappings that come with. i've concentrated my time, thought, effort, and concern in to 5 big events in 5 classes, and tonight was the first time i didn't think my investment paid off. i think i tanked a final. i studied today, i studied yesterday, i studied the two days before, and i studied before that, but i don't think it wasn't enough. what i'm hearing is "my best isn't good enough." i don't like hearing that. it's so on the list of the Top 10 Things I Never Want Anybody To Say To Me. worst of all, i think it's me screaming it the loudest. i don't feel accomplished, i instead feel slighted. cheated. unresolved. left hanging in the limbo of an anticlimactic t.v. season finale, and then devastated to find that the show won't be coming back in the fall to give me closure.

i have yet to assess how much of this purported failure is my fault because (1) it's still only in the purported stage, and (2) i really don't wanna know because there a chance that it could be more than 50%. nonetheless, if i spend any longer lamenting the loss, it's going to begin taking a toll on the remaining class that i still must perform in.

truly, what i really wanted to put my effort towards for a moment tonight was contemplating abandon. "just jump in a taxi cab, pack my bags, and get away... fast." imagining any plethora of other drugs i could use to numb this dull ache. food? done that already and it wears off too quickly. alcohol? not my speed at all. sex? seems like would be a nice diversion, but is wishful thinking in an imagined state and dangerous in most any other state.

"what i really need is an anesthetic
something for my wounds, scars, heartaches, and headaches
i'm sorry for the way that i sound
i really didn't mean to bring you down
i just want the pain to go away..."
- mark chappelle, "anesthetic"

i know it's narcissistic to an almost abject degree to quote my own song lyrics, but for the purpose of expressing my own discontent, i could think of no better reference. i feel obligated however to also expose the upshot of the song because "down" is almost never the end of any of my endeavors...

"Lord you have become my anesthetic
when i take my cares to you then i can forget it
'cause you said you're never too far
from those of crushed spirit and broken heart
troubles may come great and come small
you deliver the righteous from them all

"though it's been rainin' pretty hard
i know you can make the clouds to part
so dark at night I can't see the stars
i'm told it's always darkest before the dawn
i go on though i feel i can't go on
'cause i know these tight times can't last too long

and since the day before last
you know what, i was feelin' mighty bad
then all of a sudden you came...
and now the pain's gone away."

I will do my best to practice what I preach. Good night.

the new workout plan

2005-05-18T09:19:00.000-07:00

"you just popped in the kanye west get-right-for-the-summer workout tape, and ladies? if you follow these instructions exactly, you might be able to pull you a rapper? a NBA player? man! at least a dude wit a car!... 'thanks to kanye's workout plan, i'm the envy of all my friends, see, i pulled me a baller man, and i ain't gotta work at the mall again...' that's right, put in work, move yo ***, go berserk, eat'cho salad, no dessert, get that man you deserve!" - kanye west, "the new workout plan"

you know, today is the first time i heard uncensored lyrics of this song and found out that it's borderline vile and not at all about ladies working out (at least not at the gym). it looks bad following the hype about the "jesus walks" song, but i can't front. i find it entertaining. it's as guilty a pleasure as listening to anything by ludacris, and it couldn't function as a better title for today's blog. for me though the vamp would be more like "that's right, put in work, pump those arms 'til it hurts, so girls won't laugh, they won't smirk, when you take off your shirt."

see, i've had the bird chest my whole life, and i finally tired of it enough to do something about. so around the first part of last month, i started exercising. but one of my goals has been to develop a more muscular physique. that's been on the list for years and i've been saying it for even longer. i've been trying to embrace this thing for almost 7 years now, but accomplished little more than a couple unfruitful visits per free trial. all of a sudden though, i care about stuff i wasn't willing to break a sweat for before and the discipline is building incrementally.

among other things, i just turned 26, and noticed i was startin' to get a little "fluffy" around the midsection. not fat, but i know what's norm for me and what's not. you see, i don't think i would work well as a fat man. i work on computers. i play the piano. sitting is an inherent part of both my vocation and my hobby, so if i don't get some kind of activity happening, ye gods i could risk becoming what any consortium of chickenheads would deem a "hot nasty mess".

one of my co-workers gave me the greatest boost. this guy's around 45, married, with two delightfully rambunctious kids. so on one of our frequent diversions from focusing what we're paid to do, i struck up a conversation about fitness. particularly, i wanted to know how he didn't turn into one of those skinny dudes who look pregnant. i don't recall him telling me any big secret, but as it relates to me not going the way that some rotund family members have gone, he assured me in the most sincere tone: "don't worry. your vanity will keep you thin." man, i promise you, i have never been so happy to receive such backhanded encouragement in my life.

moreover, i've had this fascination with the clark sisters over the past couple months that just will not go away. i've been reading, buying, watching, and listening to anything i can get my hands on with karen, dorinda, twinkie, or jacky. the fascination mainly hinges on their vocal prowess, but it's well known that these ladies were pretty heavy back in the day. almost all of them have slimmed down now and one is even a spokeswoman for the american diabetes association, no doubt in connection with their mother's illness. in following the links, i ended up at the association's website and took a survey based on weight, height, race, and activity. and i'm not in a risky category, but i want to get even farther out of harms way. about the only thing less suiting to me than being a fat man, is being a sick one. and we don't do sick.

so, started with some 8-lb. weights my other pastor gave me, which was good, but not enough to build muscle. and there's no use trying to "tone" muscle you ain't got. so i bit the bullet and started attempting push-ups. push-ups and i have traditionally not gotten along well. the first time i tried to do 'em last month, it was pathetic. i could only do 3 and then i thought i was going to die. and you should know how i feel about pain. me no likey.

now, i'm doin' multiple reps of 15 and feelin' good about it. starting to see some definition in my arms and chest. i even have this thing goin' with one of my boys at church where whenever one of us says something stupid, we have to drop and do 10 push-ups. i tell you, as much as we'll be hangin' out this summer, i might stop looking like the exemplary girlie-man, and he might stop looking like cedric the entertainer's broke baby cousin.

still need to get a good system of doing push-ups, but i already have nice stomach muscles. those need to be toned. and i'm still doin' great on lower body because of all the cycling i used to do and all the walking i still do. i've gotten a lot of great advice from credible friends on what to eat, which exercises to do to work out what, what will get me nowhere, and how soon i can see results.

i'm not near where i need to be to fearlessly strut around the beach shirtless. still, what once seemed unattainable now is feasibly within my grasp (and not too far away at that). just knowing it and beginning to walk towards it has bolstered my self-confidence and changed my blase walk to more of a peppy lilt. did i mention it's been great for my voice too? it makes sense though. get more active, blood circulates better, breathe easier, and sing well enough to put american idol to shame. moreso.

so... now that i'm on the road to getting-right-for-the-summer (and beyond), maybe if i follow these instructions closely, i might be able to pull me a model, or one of those sun-bronzed soccer girls from hawaii with the hella-sexy legs, or at least a chick who doesn't just want me for my car. heh.

completely in command

2005-05-02T14:02:00.000-07:00

"How can I be sure
When your intrusion is my illusion
How can I be sure
When all the time you changed my mind
I asked for more and more
How can I be sure
When you don't give me love
You gave me pale shelter
You don't give me love
You give me cold hands
And I can't operate on this failure
When all I want to be is
Completely in command"
- Tears for Fears, "Pale Shelter"

Can I be honest? I have never understood what the meaning of the lyrics of this song were. I don't understand the meaning in the lyrics of most songs by Tears For Fears. But I sure can identify when this guy sings in his eighties whinywail: "all I wanna be is completely in command." As if that's not too much to ask. As if that's a smart thing to ask. And yet I still identify. Like I have to have my hands on everything. I have to write my own story. Produce my own songs. Design my own websites. Drive my own car when I'm goin' somewhere I've never been before or staying for an indefinite amount of time.

People, I have a problem. I desire to be God. I'm not talking about being like God. Trying to be like God is a good thing. Very good. Trying to be God is bad. Probably very bad. If one were to succeed, it would be horrible. If I had to take over God's job fully. I couldn't deal. I'd just start blowin' up stuff until we got back to the drawing board. I'd be on some ol' Genesis stuff back to when "the earth was without being form, and void; and darkness was on the face of the deep. So needless to say, if there is an election, you would do well not to vote for me as God because I don't know what I'm doin'. I don't want his job. It's too hard, doesn't seem to pay enough, and ya'll puny humans are some ungrateful suh-muh-muhs* most times.

However, as his hand is steadily working me through the annals of my life and times, I get to rough spots and I want to move his hand and rewrite the plan for just that section. I get to a rounded corner and I want a right angle there instead. I get bored with his straight lines and on a lark, I want an arc. Pointless stuff with little or no consideration to the future or the big picture. It's the same problem I've faced before and I know I'm not the only one: I love God, but sometimes I really don't trust him. Not that I don't want to (I can also get convoluted and say "not that I don't want to want to..."), but my actions say something different.

"Sometimes I sit wondering
I wonder what the future brings
I wonder what tomorrow means
I've thoughts of fear, they frighten me
'Bout days ahead that I can't see
I wanna know with certainty
So I'm faced with a choice
A fork in the road
I can raise my voice in protest
Or surrender and let go"
- Crystal Lewis, "Learn To Fly"

The catch-22 is this. If I spend all my time trying to control everything, I'll eventually get so overloaded that I can't do anything. But if I can instead begin to slowly open my hands and release things that I've gripped so tightly to, then my dexterity will be free to be used in some other expedient pursuits such as seeing how many songs I can record in one summer. Man, I can hardly wait 'til this semester is over.... ;-)

A perfect example, for instance. This new album I've got in gestation. I'd like to have some of the extremely talented people I know contribute. Do a duet. Have someone else do some of the background vocals. Let someone else produce a track or two. Bring in some guest musicians. Maybe even let someone else write for me. Last time I recorded, I pretty much wrote everything, played everything, sung everything, did everything. I generally feel more secure when I have a say in things that affect me.

However, like a friend of mine once said about a certain big-voiced hypersexual Latina songstress with a penchant for oversinging, "just because something can be done doesn't mean it's to be done." I've become aware that though I am thankfully capable of quite a bit, trying to use every faculty simultaneously is rarely a good idea. Other people have unique contributions that I will definitely miss out on if I don't open up my hands and let go of some of the reins.

"I look beyond the boundaries of my expectations
There is so much more to life that what it seems
The past is preparation for the future
I release the reins I've held
And let you lead and learn to fly."
- Crystal Lewis, "Learn To Fly"

Truth be told, I believe God thinks I'm "cute" trying to do so much, when I know that he is behind the scenes in every detail having already shaped and pre-determined my life. So for me, control is only an illusion. If I'm grasping for control, then by this token, I'm grasping for something that's not tangible and may not even be real. So if I let it go, what am I sacrificing? Maybe nothing. And I may have everything to gain from it. (That's an American for ya... always trying to get something for nothing.)

*If you ever see Bernie Mac's stand-up comedy routines in movies like The Original Kings of Comedy, you'll quickly come to understand what a suh-muh-muh is if you don't already know.

yesterday, today, tomorrow

2005-05-01T16:44:00.000-07:00

yesterday
was a beautiful day. it was rather cloudy outside, but it didn't matter too much because i was asleep for a good chunk of the morning. you see, i bought a new MIDI keyboard to start working on songs for my new album. i delayed opening the box for about three weeks. but friday night, i did. and once i got started learning the program, creating, tweaking, rewriting, and delighting in the ability to do this... thanking God for the grace {read: ease of movement} to express myself this way, i didn't stop until 8am the next morning.

it was great. i felt like i had finally returned to doing what i was meant to do. and now i think my endeavoring to record a 2nd album this year may not be so far fetched. i woke up around 1 or 2. didn't have to be anywhere immediately, so i just took a breather and watched some cartoons from the 4-disc volume of looney tunes that i copped used for $39.99 and have been watching nightly for the couple weeks. do you know what a delicacy it is to watch the cartoons you want to watch on saturday morning? i mean, you can't even find them on TV anymore.

it was a good hair day, even for a brother with dredlocks. i eventually took a shower, got dressed, and headed out to do some studying for a test i have going on tuesday. as soon as i rounded the corner, i saw an old friend at the bus stop and pulled over to say hi. of course i ended up giving him a ride to work and playing him the 3 portions of tracks i spent all night recording. (he's a singer too.) after i dropped him off, i decided to go to borders book store to study. i was pleasantly surprised to find that they don't have loud music blaring, so it was quite a nice atmosphere to do what i needed to do.

i was sitting at the table next to an endearing young couple were probably expecting their first child. the black guy had glasses and kinda reminded me of my friend hakim (who's currently missing in action... i don't know where he is). the girl was latina and beautiful in a plain and unobtrusive sort of way. probably about 4 or maybe 5 months pregnant, her glory was more in her rounded stomach that proudly bared her belly button whenever she stood. they had parenting and baby magazines all over the table. i don't gush and coo over that type of stuff, but these two were exceptionally cute. both probably about 30 years old. maybe the dude was older. they interacted fluidly, shared a kiss once. when i catch that kinda stuff it makes me want to be a better man to make it easier when i'm a married man. i wanted to strike up a conversation with them so they'd stay a little longer, but i decided not to disturb them. i had studying to do anyway.

didn't last long. i ran into a girl i sorta know. we always run into each other in town, and never quite remember each others' names or where we first met. so apparently we just came outta nowhere and that's all we can vouch for. she's got something attractive about her, but it's not physical. even though she obviously uses her body as her primary bait, it's her intellect that actually captured my attention. that outshined the rest. she's quick-witted and studious, but she has an innocent face. she's a worldly type of girl, well accomplished in playing hard to get. fortunately, since i'm not trying to get her, i don't mind playing the game. it is rather fun. we may hang out again. in a public place though. i don't know her.

i studied for about an hour more and then took a detour to visit my pastor while she was at a loose end. time flew and before i knew it, 11pm had rolled around. i have to say... yesterday was a good day. marked by hope and happiness, it made me look forward to what the next days may bring.

today
stands in notable contrast to yesterday. it hasn't been the most beautiful. at least not thus far. it's been more frustrating and fatiguing. i wasn't doing hard labor. but i was having a tough day at church. not many people seemed to show up today. and those who were there weren't particularly enthused. i was though. i've been interminably happy for most of the week. the day has somewhat absorbed my momentum like brakes on a bicycle tire though.

i guess i was looking for a continuation of yesterday's good vibrations. i was greeted more with the company of some overextended people and an inability to really get into a comfortable rhythm with the way events were proceeding. we coordinate colors as a group when we sing. this week they asked us to pick from a palette of burgundy, brown, and pink. i don't do pink. i don't care how pimp current trends say it is. and i don't really have anything comfortable in burgundy and brown, so what i wore made me generally uneasy. with everything. all day.

whatever, man. sometimes these things happen. "everything don't turn out like you want it to." and it doesn't mean God is not there, is not powerful, or did not move. we sang, but we sounded like we were trying really hard, i didn't feel like it paid off aurally. i was yet thankful and raised my hands in praise anyway.

the message was a motivational one called i am this church, which was essentially a timely call for everybody to get up and do something instead of wondering why things aren't going right. hence, everyone made a special effort to visit the convalescent home after church today. normally, 3-5 people go to these things once monthly. today, it was 3 or 4 times that amount. i really would have rather stayed home. the convalescent hospital is in pasadena about 45 minutes away and i didn't want to drive. so i arranged to carpool with some people i know from church.

this was particularly unpleasant because these 3 people were close friends who always hang out, always interact, and have their own bond and their own sense of humor. i was effectively cut out. (i implore you to reference my recent post on rejection to save time typing today.) it's been quite a while since i felt that excluded. it may not have had anything to do with me though. they're all graduating seniors, known for being active on campus and off, and one of them was having a visibly bad day besides.

all of that just collectively intensified the fact that they're just really bad at including people in their group. and then i have to turn and point the finger at myself. because i've heard people sometimes attribute that same trait to our church as a whole, even though it is our primary goal to be welcoming and accomodating all the time. sometimes we get so caught up having a good time with the people we know that we fail to acknowledge those outside our circle. so i chose to take this as a lesson as opposed to taking it personally, as i would have about a year or two ago.

"i will trust in you my brokenness, my fear, my sorrow / i believe it's true / you hold yesterday, today, tomorrow / show me, help me, when i cannot understand... " - crystal lewis, "yesterday today tomorrow"

so, the point is... it's only about 6pm now. and so far, today's not so hot. it's really not. but there's still some today left. and it can change completely by 7. i have the option to springboard off of this morning's string of unpleasant hours and become bitter, guarded, gunshy, discouraged, despondent, depressed, or any combination of the above. however. if i had exercised this option the hundreds (maybe even thousands) of times i've felt like this before, i would have never been primed to have the pleasure of knowing days like yesterday where i can feel like i'm flying even when i'm standing still. and yesterday was a really good day. so on the off chance that i might get to ride that type of natural high again, i think i'll roll the dice on what life might be like tomorrow.

she's just not that into you

2005-04-25T14:47:00.000-07:00

"this heart of mine seldom lies, you see... it's often said you don't care for me no more..." - anita baker, "baby"

every time i think someone dislikes or has somehow distanced theirself from me, the opening lines of this song play in my head like a familiar television theme. what you are about to read (should you choose to proceed) is an extended diatribe on rejection. though i hate to only blog about unpleasant things, it is those very things that squawk loudest for attention. apparently, the sunshiny stuff doesn't mind being overlooked.

for some reason, toni braxton's "hit the freeway" has been playing in my head constantly. and i got an idea. i think i now know why i like those angry female kiss-off songs. something about a good "get the hell out of my house", "pack your ish and leave", "i don't wanna ever see you again", and "don't be lookin' for me at my mama's house" always elicits me to cheer along with it. i've taken several rejections recently with a grain of salt. but whenever that happens, my natural reaction is to respond in word or in deed in such a way as to say "fine. go. if you don't like me, i don't want to deal with you anyway".

"i don't wanna make you unhappy / if you're not happy then you're free to go on / 'cause i don't want you stayin' around / if i make you so miserable / if you don't want me then don't talk to me / go ahead and free yourself..." - fantasia, "free yourself"

it begins with a girl i know from church. she's beautiful and talented, very soft-spoken whenever she comes around, but she's so lofty and exclusive, it just irks the hell out of me. i mean, i'm pleasant, i'm witty, i'm good looking, i'm polite and respectful... at least every other time except for right now... so why the hell won't she just bring her behind down off that high horse and like me? say hi sometimes? stop actin' like the world's out to get you when truth be told, the greater part of the earth's population ain't checkin' for you anyhow!

so it begs the question, if the grapes are so sour, why expend so much energy jumping at the crooked branch from which they hang anyway? God i don't know. it's complicated as it wants to be, but it's so hard to just "let it go". i don't want the chick to fall madly in love with me so we can run away together. i mean, she has kids, so that's out of the question for me anyway. i just want her to like me and stop treating me like i have the plague or something. smile, exchange pleasantries, humor me for a few moments and then go on your merry very way. why is that so much to ask? yet i can't get it and i just don't understand why.

and then there's a pair of art professors i have. it is their job to prune, mold, and shape students with constructive criticism, but i've about had it with flat comments like "i don't get it" and "it's not working for me". it is at this point that i have to squint, and begin crushing your puny heads between my thumb and forefinger. we both know i am advanced and capable. so why are you dead set on dogging me in front of everybody? is it to even the playing field? to make an example of me? is it personal? do you need a can of GetRight(TM)? what's your problem? why won't you just smile and accept me and stop bein s'daggone stingy with your stamp of approval. why do i even want it so bad though? i think i know why. it's 'cause the bastards won't let me have it. there you go.

The Shortlist Pissed-Off Chick Mix CD:
Toni Braxton: "Hit The Freeway"
Kelis: "Caught Out There (I Hate You So Much Right Now)"
CeCe Peniston: "Keep On Walkin"
Erykah Badu: "Tyrone"
Lauryn Hill: "Lost Ones"
Tweet: "Motel"
Dionne Farris: "I Know"
Monica: "Knock Knock"
Fiona Apple: "Sleep To Dream"
Missy Elliot: "All N My Grill"
Alanis Morissette: the whole Jagged Little Pill album
BONUS TRACK:
Mya: "If You Died I Wouldn't Cry Cause You Never Loved Me Anyway" (no really... that is the full and proper title of the daggone song and it's a gentle hateful ballad to boot. the nerve of some folks!)

and then there's another pretty birdy at church who i have a harmless strictly-platonic relationship with, even though said relationship was buttressed by an uneven amount of flirting (just for sport). rather abruptly, she just kind of drifted away and wouldn't have me anymore. and so here i go again, tracing back my steps wondering what i did wrong, what i said wrong or what i didn't say, or if i missed her birthday, or if just had b.o. or bad breath or something, just a gentle panic like "what!! what did i do? how come you don't want to play with me no more? i thought we were friends." yeah. with the lip poked out and everything.

also, there's my pseudo-former-flame nefertiti who never attained official status even though she functions at the capacity of a fully-decorated ex-girlfriend. we have a pretty open and honest friendship now and we were talking recently about the aftermath of our breakup. i thought we were cool, but recently she had become distant. and i'm thinking it's something i did or said, but i didn't do nuthin'! well, i guess i was too nice one day and she thought i was beginning to fall for her again, so she pulled away re-asserting that nothing is going on or will ever between us.

well, she didn't have to tell me that. i could see that even then. that's why i broke up with her hoping to salvage a friendship from the wreckage. i always kicked myself though because i thought i had unceremoniously thrown away a "keeper". so, i was elated and relieved to hear her tell me frankly that i wasn't her type, she was never sure if she really liked me, and she was pissed that i broke up with her first... and too that i came to her house and woke her up in the middle of the night to do so.

hot dawg! this is great news! but it comes as a surprise because i recall her reading to me (much to her own enjoyment and my discomfort) passages from some tell-it-like-it-is self-help book called he's just not that into you: the no-excuses truth to understanding guys. i was like whoa. if i had waited too long, i would have been the officially rejected one searching for the no-excuses truth to understanding girls.

calls to mind also that poignant tear-jerker moment on one episode of the fresh prince of bel-air where will meets up with the father who left he and his mom when he was a kid and the guy was still a flake years later. will was all primed to have his dad in his life and everything. so he was understandably crushed when his dad flaked on him for an umpteenth time, skipping town without him. and then here it comes: will goes through this whole "screw him, he was never that good of a father anyway" speech. then turns around tearily asking his uncle phil "why he don't want me, man?" augh. that's a full-on boohooer right there and that ain't right, 'cause everybody knows nick-at-nite is not supposed to make you cry. that's what those lifetime and oxygen network estrogen festivals are for.

you know, i'd really like to pepper this post with jokes and make light of it all. shoot, it'd be good for me to start believing it doesn't really matter to me, but it does. i try to be likable, don't i? i'm workin' hard enough to be liked, right? so why do people (some more significant, and some less) keep cyclically walking out of my life? God i hate when that happens. it's like those kids who think it's they're the reason their parents are divorcing. the poor baby can't quite understand it's not his fault. like "if i behave real good then everything will be OK, right? people should stay." i feel like that sometimes. so then, when they leave anyway, i'm all in shock like pop... sizzle... puff of smoke... does not compute. critical error. shutting down.

speaking of which, i think i'm "going through a divorce" with one of my best friends. we've been really tight for over 5 years now, which is amazing considering she lives 3,000 miles away and i never see her. and i mean never. i believe men and women can have purely-platonic relationships. and i think she does too. but her (ex-)boyfriend staunchly sees otherwise. they've been dating for the past 3 years, and even though it was a rocky relationship, she still loves him and doesn't really want to let him go. let us establish this once and for all. he's never met me, and doesn't know me, and doesn't want to, but that does not stop him from intrinsically disliking me.

i'm not the only one who has whinnied and clapped about him being insecure, unreasonable, etc. but still she loves him and through his influence, she's decided to preserve his feelings, honor his request, and essentially cut me off to keep him happy. now if i were more selfish -- and i'm already enough so as it is -- i would be really pissed and try to twist arms and put equal pressure on her from my side to not give in to this dude and his wacked out mindset about our friendship. but that is my friend, and i do love her. so i'm not going to fight anymore to be a part of her life if she really needs me to be out of it so she can be happy. i wish for her to be happy and if me quietly leaving will do it... then away i go.

now, i've been informally pushed aside to appease this dude before and it hurt then. but then something happened and i got my homegirl back again. and then something else happened and i was again relegated to the background. this may be the 2nd, possibly 3rd time? i really don't remember, but i don't like this. and it's reminded me why i stopped breaking-up-to-make-up with lela so many years ago. i added up the figures and came to the conclusion that the aggregate damage from periodic break-ups every 6-8 weeks was astronomically more than if i just paid one lump sum and shut her down once and for all.

"sometimes i wonder why / i go on loving you this way / when i'm not sure that you are sure / that you will stay / sometimes i wonder why / i go on hurting like i do / i guess this heart ain't very smart..." - anita baker, "sometimes i wonder why"

going with the flow i think is better this time because this way i don't have to worry about how long it's gonna be until the next inevitable, scott-free rejection from the same person. and i suppose i'm using rejection too liberally. what i really mean is separation. it's the process of separation that hurts, and it's even worse when it happens serially. once i get attached to people, be the relationships platonic or romantic, i don't want to let go.

The Shortlist Rejected Dude Mix CD:
Prince: "How Come You Don't Call Me Anymore"
Stevie Wonder: "I Never Dreamed You'd Leave In Summer"
Bill Withers: "Ain't No Sunshine"
Boyz II Men: "4 Seasons Of Loneliness"
John Mayer: "Come Back To Bed"
Ginuwine: "I'll Do Anything/I'm Sorry"
Brian McKnight: "Anytime"
Mint Condition: "Love Is For Fools"
Case: "Missing You"
Sting: "Every Breath You Take"
The Pharcyde: "Passin' Me By"
Coldplay: "Trouble"
BONUS TRACKS:
and almost anything by Keith Sweat or Gerald Levert, 'cause they all the time gettin' left by some woman

i used to write the best break-up songs... every time i lost a job. (lol) they were full of references like "you're gonna miss me" and "i didn't want your love anyway". by the same token, the flipside of those angry chick ranting anthems is the whiny, sad male "why oh why did she leave me" songs. these are best rendered by someone with a voice like babyface or that lead singer of 112 with the sneery voice. it communicates the full breath of pathetic rebuff like no barry white, anthony hamilton or cee-lo can. now, there was a time when i used to live, breathe, and wallow in the dramatic nadirs of such depressing songs, but i've realized that depression is not for me. as much as i dug mariah carey's butterfly album, that whole weepy opus is pretty much off-limits for me now.

i may have mentioned it before, but i've noticed that some of the people i consider my friends (even some of the closest), have a tendency to cycle in and out of my life naturally such that about every 2 years, i've got a new ace boon coon. i don't mean it to be that way, but folks, it's hard to keep friends when you live in l.a. there's too much goin' on and sometimes the tide carries them out farther than you can hold on. so i know that even though i might spend an hour or two whimpering and not wagging my tail like a sad puppy whose owner is taking way too long to come back home, i never stay that way. sometimes i take deeper dips than i (or those around me) would prefer, but misery just is not my color. i will find some way to be happy. even if i have to write a blog of record length and emotional amplitude.

happy birthday

2005-04-18T20:37:00.000-07:00

quick recap... my birthday was more fun than i can adequately describe right now for time constraints. all i really ask for each year is for people to bring their presence (and if they like... presents), and i got more than enough of both such that i was still brimming with giddy joy today. among those in attendance were loads of church family who came to support and didn't mind buying their own pizza (because i had no money to throw a come-and-eat-for-free soiree). since two of them couldn't make it, my puckish plan to get about 3 or 4 of my amicably separated ex-girlfriends didn't go as planned, so i couldn't get the gift of taking a picture while surrounded by all of them just so say i could. maybe some other year. (lol)

a note in a bottle

2005-04-15T00:56:00.000-07:00

for those concerned for my well-being, i am verily, verily still alive. however, i am up to my neck in academia. i am certain that i have bitten off more than i can comfortably chew. my attention is spent. so is my time. and i'm fiercely protecting to make sure the same fate does not befall my money. it's a shame because i really have missed being at this school for the past 2 years that i was doing whatever, but right now, the classes that i have, i can't give my full attention because they're all in competition with each other.

and yada, yada, yada, bills must be paid, sleep must be had, and God must be praised, so somethings will not move aside in the interests of getting me more study time which i have yet to economize. i'm continuing to consult the counselor the university provides to help me manage the mess of excess thought that spills out of my pressurized daily activity like so much extra batter from the sides of a waffle iron. there is much to say, but my energy would be better served getting around to turning in the annotated bibliography that was due in my japanese art history class about two weeks ago.

so in closing, i hope this note finds you well. i am still alive, but if you find this, please alert the authorities (particularly God) and ask him to send help.

my analyst told me

2005-03-23T02:09:00.000-08:00

Well, I know I'm not crazy, but it never hurts to be sure. I had my first session in five years with a clinician at the University Counseling Services to see if he could help sort out the problems I was having prioritizing and focusing on the tasks at hand. I didn't really have any expectation, and I almost didn't make the appointment. Life was so hectic a couple weeks ago, I thought I had better seek out some kind of support. My normal "analysts" (a/k/a my pastors) are currently distracted and, for my intents, out of commission what with them being pregnant and overloaded trying to run a whole church and all. So I decided to give secular assistance a try once again.

"My analyst told me
That I was right out of my head
But I said dear doctor
I think that it's you instead
Because I have got a thing
That's unique and new
To prove it I'll have
The last laugh on you
'Cause instead of one head
I got two
And you know two heads are better than one."
- Joni Mitchell, "Twisted"

Kidding. My analyst told me nothing of the sort. It's the first song that popped into my head though. My analyst did however tell me, in so many words that I was a lazy, arrogant, spoiled brat with an attitude problem. Well... at least, that's what I took from it. I laid out the convergence of assignments that I had due in my classes last week and explained how I waited until nearly the last minute to buckle down and actually execute what I needed to do. His suggestion was that my problem was not with the assignments themselves, but with my attitude toward them.

After one hour of mostly me talking, the calmly yet succinctly delivered damning verdict left my mouth slightly agape. I wanted to refute the claim and do "damage control", but he was just right. He summarized back to me that I didn't really feel it was my job to take care of these assignments. Therefore it feels like I'm taking my time to do them as if it is for the professor's benefit and not my own. Hence my angsty unwillingness. Hence my strong aversion. Hence my presence inside the office of a psychoanalyst. Because I'm lazy. (I drew the additional arrogant spoiled brat conclusion myself.)

I neglected to admit that I think the guy's right. I don't like accepting any put-upon responsibility. I like to opt-in, so that I feel like I have the option to opt right back out if it gets rough. I don't like to commit to things and be shackled to the site until it's properly seen through. I don't want to be on the hook for something's success or failure. Sometimes I'm not even my brother's keeper. "It's not my job" might as well be my mantra. I'd rather flit back and forth to whatever takes my fancy, nibble on it as if it were a buffet item and toss back whatever displeases me. (I'm starting to feel mighty proud of my spoiled brat assessment now.)

Perhaps I have quietly become a slave to my own whim. This is such that in order to gain freedom from this, I would have to surrender to self-discipline and self-control. I'll bet you there's a paradox somewhere in there wrapped up in an enigma. So in an attempt to make the best of what I've been apprised of, I've got to face up to and really ask God to help me wrap my head around this. It's frightening, this concept of embracing responsibility. What if it really is my job?

to envy the miserable

2005-03-21T18:04:00.000-08:00

Sorry if I've neglected my blog this week. I figured after a weekend of quadruple posting, people needed a breather. I've found an erstwhile hobby in maintaining a page on MySpace and seeing how many of my friends are online. It's actually quite a nice number. I felt loved. (lol) And then I felt something else.

I was reading profiles of friends and their lives and quirky things that make them interesting. For a few moments in particular, I just had this longing begin to rise up my calves like the cold waters of a high tide. I wanted to be that person for a moment. This astounded me because as pleased as I am with myself, I'm no longer given to fits of wishing I could take my life back to God with the receipt and trade it for something else.

"I just wanna do / half of what you do / and I know it seems so strange for me to say it / if there is a hundred ways to say it / all in one it means / don't go away." - Janet, "One More Chance"

This uncomfortable feeling had to go, so I quickly stepped out of said chilly rising waters. Thank God I was lucid enough to make the decision. I was tempted to wallow in that feeling though and explore what it felt like washing over my back, up my spine, and through my hair. Need I remind anyone that I am most averse to cold temperatures? That's probably why God designed me to be born in California.

This is the thinking. The life I was seeing looked good and my pupils dilated and stars began to twinkle all around and what not. Yet the fact of the matter is, I am so certain that even more often people have taken a glance at the waxed and buffed outer chassis of my life and thought the same. Maybe envying me as attractive, witty, peaceful, happy, and maybe even powerful. Seems a little far reaching, but it's possible. Because I sure have felt that way about people who probably would think I'm crazy for even opting to switch. Everybody has their share of trouble and no one encased in flesh really has it together so much that would warrant us all clamboring to get what they've got.

"It's a sad state of affairs when so many Americans obsess over wealth and fame [and] the people who are wealthy and famous are actually kind of miserable." — Moby

I could have been caught up, but by the grace of God, I'm back to my senses. I'm quite alright being stuck with being myself. I still have issues, but at least I know my way around them by name. I may even give a few of them cute little names so that they don't seem so vicious when they "greet" me at the door. What I am is what I am, and what I am is satisfied.

4th avenue & wilshire blvd.

2005-03-19T04:34:00.000-08:00

i was surfing 4th avenue jones' website thursday when i found they would be playing a show the next night at the temple bar in santa monica on wilshire blvd. they're supporting their "debut" album stereo: the evolution of hiprocksoul releasing march 29th. it's not really a debut since they've had several indie releases and one shelved album through a failed deal with interscope records. they're signed to gotee/emi now and after years on the grind, this will be the first album of theirs to actually hit stores nationwide. i heard several tracks off of the album already and they're all on fire. so i decided, that i would not miss the opportunity to see them live for $10, up close, and only 30 minutes from my house.

i wanted to make a date of it, but had no eligible, available, likely-to-say-yes prospects. a friend suggested i take a guy with me instead. those of my boys i could reach were either too far away to make it or tied up workin' or studying. i ended up going by myself anyway, which was fine. if i had brought anyone at all it still would have been too packed to sit down and too loud to hold a conversation.

i don't go clubbing. it's not my thing. i'm completely a homebody and for all intents and purposes, i'm a church boy, so i just straight don't fit in the scene. i kinda have my own more daylight oriented social circles to run in anyway, so it always seems like a brand new and novel experience whenever i walk into the nocturnal atmosphere of a place like the temple bar. apparently, its patrons were having a good time swaying back and forth with drinks in hand. a throwback funk band called greasy beats was on stage finishing their set. the players were all 30-something average-joe type white guys. no slight to the "average white band". they were actually funky.

the ambience seemed simultaneously active and inert. there was a lot of movement going on with streams of waitresses trickling throughout the crowd and what not. each one of them held high a tray with a lit candle atop while taking drink orders. yet, nothing felt alive or engaging about the place. it was alright though. i was there to see them jones, and that's all.

i did enjoy a quicksilver set of favorites mostly from the 80's and 90's that the DJ spun to amp up the crowd before 4th ave came out. rarely lingering on a song for longer than a verse and a chorus, he blasted in and out of ODB "got your money", musiq "just friends (sunny)", busta rhymes "put your hands where my eyes could see", prince "erotic city", chaka khan "i feel for you", lisa lisa & cult jam "i wonder if i take you home", michael jackson "p.y.t.", tone loc's "wild thing", young m.c. "bust a move", and an extended medley of new edition-related joints like "if it isn't love", "don't be cruel", and "poison". i didn't really come dressed to dance, which is just as well. it would just look wrong with me gettin' my groove on in a sweaty dark club and then bein' up front on sunday leadin' praise and worship. still, i did have to rapscreamsing along with ODB and do the double claps on "got your money".

the band came out next and twerked their one hour set well. i had my locks pulled back when they opened with "fabulous dramatics", but i had to take 'em right on out when they went into my favorite song "unhappy birthday". i was jumpin' around too much for them to keep together anyway. they flew through "take me away", "overloaded", "sorry", and "who's watching me" after that. to close, they played two times through their two-minute lead single "stereo" and then let the band jam and solo for a minute and left out on a parody of nirvana's "smells like teen spirit". at this point, i was glad i didn't bring anybody, because i had to act a straight fool. headbangin' with a suit on like i ain't had no sense. they were filming for somethin', so if you see me wildin' out so much that you're not sure it's me. yeah. it is. which is ok. it's different from the janet jackson concert, because now, i would act up just as much for Jesus. have done it before, would most gladly do it again.

"i'm precise wit mine and diced a few fools... / from the life where if you ain't nice, we boo you / boo hoo / go 'head cry if you wanna / what you got's not hot / they rock mine every corner / homey cain't see me / if he try, he a goner / plus he must me smokin' that thai marijuana / it's over now" - 4th avenue jones, "it's over now"

that was a great though. the members of their band are most impressive as musicians and performers. particularly watching their sweet-faced violinist named gailybird battle with their raw as rusty nails guitarist timmy "shakes" stewart. afterwards, i got to meet tena jones. i could have had a photo op from it, but somehow the batteries had fallen out of my digital camera. so i'll probably go see them again next weekend when they have their album release party in hollywood. perhaps we'll call this my clubbin' phase, 'cause but for the musical attraction, you ain't gettin' me that far out the house on the regular.

breathe in

2005-03-16T13:50:00.000-08:00

...and hold. {funeral's over. donnie mcclurkin screensaver turned in. visual analysis written. research paper proposition turned in. reprieve received for late graphic design assignment due tuesday. logo presentation for production class complete. day job paycheck received. set up appointment for counseling. laughed and talked with an old friend. payment for donnie screensaver received.} ok. now.

breathe out.

after what seemed way too long of a time ducking and laying low as a storm passed over, i can finally breathe for a minute and let my spine curve into this chair a little. i don't have to be catlike and tense. i returned long deferred calls and e-mails. watched episodes of taxi. installed windows xp service pack 2. cleared away the strewn papers that seem to enclose my floor like kudzu up a wall. even took some time to retwist my locs in the front.

and now i can relax. now i can smile and laugh for the heck of it and not just to keep from crying. now i can help somebody else out. now i can even pray. and now... let the weak say i am strong, let the poor say i am rich, because of what the Lord has done for us, give thanks. everyday.

on the death of a young man

2005-03-12T23:45:00.000-08:00

i know 4-5 posts stacked tightly together in one day is just garrulous and excessive, but this is america. excess is what we do. besides... there is a lot going on right now and there is something important and lingering that i have yet to address. on the death of jerome jakie coston, my nagging question was why did it bother me so. it didn't reconcile that i had only seen the man 2 or 3 times over a space of 5 or 6 years, yet i was so distraught about the whole ordeal. it seemed like logically, i should be able to shrug and say "that's too bad" and feel sorry for those closer to him. this hit close to home and i was determined to find out why, because i didn't even know i lived anywhere close to the site of impact.

last time i felt this way was over the death of aaliyah. to me, she symbolized youth, vitality, potential, seeds, and signs of things to come. i was with my mother when i found out and i went into fit of disbelief and panicking. my mother didn't understand what the problem was. she asked me, "did you know her personally?" i didn't. and then i felt ashamed making such a show for someone who was neither a relative, close personal friend, or even an acquaintance. was i being dramatic? possibly. but there was some tangible impetus for the grief. even now, the discomfort has subsided, but by no means has it gone away.

in 2001, i wasn't bowled over by her new music, but i recall having a hopeful sense about where it was going. it was becoming intelligent and mature, being sung by a gentle, yet increasingly confident voice. no longer hiding under baggy clothes and hip-hop sunshades de rigueur, she was nascent and inspiring and vibrant in her freshly liberated loose curls. i was proud of her and intrigued by her as some archetypal figure of sister/mother/lover hybrid everywoman. i was looking forward to seeing what she might be like as a 40-year-old woman retaining supple curves from her youth, but finally being honored with lines of wisdom and esteem in her face. all of this i felt though unspoken. in someway somewhere along the lines, i took ownership of her. she was mine and we walked together. when she died, something that belonged to me was taken away. i felt it go and it still feels missing. it was part of the scenery that i was used to seeing while walking through my daily routines. i couldn't find a piece to replace what was taken because it was a one of a kind unique creation. so i had to adapt my routine so that i didn't have to pass by that place with the vacant spot and feel every day like injustice had only freshly been done that morning.

when biggie, tupac, and left eye died, it was sad, but they weren't part of my scenery. they weren't in my house. even when 9/11 happened, the tragedy was in my neighborhood, but it wasn't in my house. apparently, jerome lived in my house. ever so quietly, i didn't know he was there. he must have been like a table or something in the corner with a lamp on it where you walk by it everyday for years upon years without noticing it. yet as soon as you remove it, everything that once sat comfortably upon the table is upset.

like aaliyah, jerome and i were the same age, born 18 days apart. and we walked together in a way. from strong-willed children who played and fought and learned to forgive because there was no one else to play with, to grown men with completely different lives and aspirations and personalities worlds away from each other, we were still connected. if you look at life as a battlefield, we were marching in step not far from one another. enemy fire that could have grazed me easily met him spot on and took him out of step forever. he was mine and he was taken away from me and his absence is not unnoticed.

if i had known he was dying or had some premonition that it was to come, i think i would have tried to warn him or save him or, if that was beyond my control, at least touch him and let him know he was loved. maybe i did have a premonition. maybe that weird sense about the train coming that i had a few weeks ago was about him. but if so, how unfair that i wasn't fully informed so that i could try and reform God's plan with my own hands. alas, better that i not try an operate in that capacity, lest i damage more than i can repair. still, it would have been nice to look forward to seeing him at family reunions decades later and with him share stories about our crazy childhood to delight our own children. that won't be now. not the way i had expected. fortunately, i don't think anything necessary was left unsaid. i believe he is with Christ now, and i have no regrets.

however.

it stands to reason that anyone who narrowly misses being in a car accident will be obviously shaken for at least a moment of time, possibly gunshy and very careful for his life. as of late, that gunshy and thereafter circumspect man has been myself. jerome's life was truncated in a way that seems arbitrary, unexpected, and unforeseen. which means that apart from it being a portion of omniscient God's perfect plan, there was no apparent reason it couldn't have been me elected to leave at an early age.

normally, i prefer to drive late at night because it's easier on the eyes, and i find the night environment to be relaxing. yet tuesday night, even though i was clamboring anxious to escape the perimeters of bakersfield and the premises of my mother's home, i forsook my haste. i was tired and concerned that even i couldn't make the full 90 minute trip without wanting to take a nap. so i curled up on the floor by my mother's king-size bed. she insisted that i get some warm covering and a pillow or better yet, just stretch across the foot of her bed, so i did. then she adjusted some more and told me, there would be more room if you lay diagonally, so i did. then she said to go ahead and take that side of the bed and be comfortable. so i did. it was much warmer than the floor would have been. i awoke 2 hours later with my forehead against her shoulder and my hand clasped about hers. though still anxious to get back to my own world, i hesitated a little longer remembering how my mother said she begged my father not to rush out on the morning he was killed. i just thought that if there was something tragic awaiting me on the road or elsewhere, that holding my hand for just a few moments longer might have meant the world to her.

"A thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right hand; but it shall not come nigh thee." - Psalm 91:7a.

i wonder if my father had any foreboding of his own death. i've heard that he was planning to move to santa barbara, and was going around town saying goodbye to all of his friends before he died. that comforts me, that God would give him a chance to personally deliver his own closure in a way. to write his own epitaph before dying. it comforts me because i would want at least that much control over my own life for myself. there are significant things, even powerful things within me, that i haven't yet had the opportunity or ability to say yet. i was slightly afraid last week because i thought that if i did die unexpectedly that the greatness gestating in me would never be known or acknowledged. as if it were never there in the first place.

recently in california, some subway restaurants have ceased accepting their frequent buyer "sub club" cards. i didn't know this and i was left holding two cards worth one free sandwich each that i was told could no longer be redeemed. i called my mother and found that restaurants in bakersfield were still accepting them and i was overjoyed. even though i wasn't going to taste the sandwich for myself, i was inordinately excited that somebody close to me would still get the benefit of it and the roughly 70-80 dollars spent acquiring that value was not in vain.

i have invested time in this life and learned from my experiences which continually adds value to me as a person. even if i am not a currency-wealthy man when i leave this earth, what i know i have is much wisdom that the bible says is more precious than gold, and i have fought hard to earn it. that is my treasure. and even if i were to receive untimely discharge from service in this world, i would want someone to be able to redeem my value so that my life will not have been in vain.

snap out of it

2005-03-12T16:29:00.000-08:00

i think i'll either see my pastor or use the university counseling services, because odds are, it's been months since i excised the anxiety that seems to accumulate from living. i don't feel distanced from God, but he sure seems lately to be something of an inactive volcano...

"now if things feel different, i'm the one trippin' / if we seem distant, i'm the one slippin' / you're the same as you've always been and will be" - the cross movement, "closer to you"

what i said to a friend recently was that i don't "feel saved". it's not like i'm over here whoopin' it up with the hey hey get-ur-sin-on, but i just feel like i'm getting by and not really getting a reciprocal rush when i try to engage in worship and what not. i feel cold towards God and i don't like that. it's not comfortable.

"it's somethin' still wrong wit the picture / i'm workin' for you daily / but barely i'm gettin' wit'cha / somethin's keepin' me from gettin' with you / diggin' in your scripture for food with its infinite truth / you get pushed to the side like when i'm cockin' a brim / it's like we're on the couch but we're on opposite ends / Lord come and put a stop to this trend" - the cross movement, "closer to you"

i'm wont to blame the 15 unit classload because it is stretching my life all out of shape like it was a shirt two-sizes too small. i like it though. i'm getting to indulge in the area of education that was held just beyond arms-length from me for years now. i should be diving into this and loving every minute of it because it's gonna be over in no time, but i'm having trouble focusing though.

"every now and then i can see that i am getting somewhere / where i have to go is so deep / i was angry back then / and you know i still am / but / i have lost too much sleep / and i'm gonna find it" - jennifer knapp, "diamond in the rough"

currently, i'm not sure if i'm getting anywhere. i'm doing quite a bit. too much even. but i'm not even entertaining the idea of stopping. i tend to lean towards having too much going on as opposed to having not enough. i just don't feel like i'm accomplishing much.

if i had my way right now, i might just drop every responsibility and go and do something absolutely pointless like picking daisies in a field and making wreaths out of them for little kids to play with. i just don't want to deal. don't wanna think hard. don't wanna return calls and e-mails. don't want my nose placed against any grind stone. and i've been at this junction of apathy and obstinance so many times before.

and i have a theory. one time my old pastor was detailing the story of a woman swimming from the channel islands to the shore of california for some feat. and from a helicopter, observers could see that she stalled out half way to her destination even though she was going at a pretty good clip for most of the race. well, when she did pick up, get going again, and finish her watery trek, people were curious. "why did you stop halfway in-between?" the woman responded "well, the fog had set in and when i couldn't see where i was going, i lost the energy to get there."

"what's the use / forget it / that's what you keep sayin' / tangled like spaghetti / why folks act so petty / i'm meltin'... / callouses and blisters / workin' hard but goin' nowhere / trouble don't last always / he'll make a way / just wait and see / God has the final say... / don't conversate with the enemy / don't say nothin', just pray / watch the Lord come through / and beat the devil down for you / when the devil try to talk to ya / check yo self / when ya boss got'cha trippin' / better check yo self / snap out of it / snap out of it" - kierra kiki sheard, "s.n.a.p."

bingo! that's me. i'm pretty certain. 'cause right now, i'm just expending energy and lots of it. going back and forth, doing things, calling people, reading pages, understanding little, retaining less, and hoping that somewhere out of this chaos will arise some good grades and accolades. i'm thankful that nothing is bearing down on me so heavy that i can't move, but i can't deny... i am rather tired. i gotta snap out of it though because i'm always encouraging people and trying to motivate them to get where they need to be. it would be a daggone shame if i ended up among the also-rans and didn't make it to the promised land along with the other children of israel.

salty surreal, pt. 2

2005-03-12T15:04:00.000-08:00

no, wait. now i got it. i think i really got it this time. and you can thank lady kaleo for it because "she scratched it outta my head when i was ailin".

"my eyes are green 'cause i eats a lotta vegetables. it ain't got nothin' to do with your new friend." - erykah badu

thank you. thank you all so much. you really have been a wonderful audience. good night.

salty surreal

2005-03-12T13:16:00.000-08:00

oops. i know who her new man is. i didn't really wanna know, but i stumbled upon it online. it was on her page a couple links away. i saw cute li'l love notes from december. he's a singer, songwriter, producer, vocalist, nice lookin' guy with dredlocks as long as my arm it seems like. she probably worked with him (like me), got to know him and has now come to love him. that's really ok. even though the drama factory within me is just grappling to blow this out of proportion. wants to go sift through the works of lauryn hill or d'angelo or someone of the like and see if i can find a song appropriate for the occasion of "being introduced" to your ex-girl's new man.

i haven't decide on an emotion to stick with yet. it's not a requirement though. it's perfectly within my rights to remain without affect at all. i would love that. not sure how feasible that option is at this point and let me tell you why. i'm single. happily so. still. but it's spring time and everywhere there's sunshine and the tv tells me that being in love is the thing to do right now. romance. "it's the new black." the tv is always right, you know. hey. by the by... can you hear me rolling my eyes at myself? 'cause i am.

again, i have to keep telling myself i'm ok. because in truth, i am. i was fine before, and i'm fine after. heck. look at me. i'm fine period. too sexy. no for real though. and ironic how my unabashed authentic braggadocio is heavily attributed to her. she praised me until i believed what she said. long after i was gone. i'm thankful for her. i don't regret the time spent.

so back to the main point of all my ramblings. i'm really, really hot. yay and good for me. and just because i wasn't superman enough to make this last relationship work doesn't mean ol' girl has to be doomed to eternal solitude just to make me happy. go on. go ye therefore and get your man. live your life. do your part to fulfill all the potential we said we had and didn't want to stunt within each other. i am obligated to continue undaunted trying to be amazing. i'm doing ok so far. i feel funky right now, but it's a feeling. feelings are inherently ephemeral. it will die within a day and a new feeling will replace it. can you blame me though? you can imagine this is a bit surreal. and it's obvious i'm salty about it. let that roll off your back though. if you ever find this. which i don't intend for you to. 'cause really though...

"what yo man got to do wit me?" :)

ooh! i got one! ok. burt bacharach's "walk on by". the one that says "if u see me walkin' down the street / and i start to cry each time we meet / walk on by... / make believe / that u don't see the tears / just let me grieve in private / 'cause each time i see you / i break down and cry / walk on by". bleh. that's overkill. more drama than adequately suits the situation. so i'll just walk on by that. heh.

but moving on. i wonder... (as i wander)... if... just as a friend to me... you would do me the honor of feeling a little bad yourself when i unexpectedly find and fall in love with a woman who fits me like a glove. i wouldn't do it just to make you upset. but if you were to humor me by turning introspective for a minute, i'd appreciate it. it would be so nice, and i would be eternally grateful. i'll even sweeten the deal. you don't have to ever tell me about it. as a matter of fact, nobody has to know. that's ok with me. i just don't want to be so insignificant to you that you could easily forget about me like i was never there. you know? pretend it was hard to get over me. heck. i didn't see you for months. for all i know, you may have absolutely agonized about it already. all that fuss over li'l ol' me? aww shucks. you shoudn't have...

i'll take it. give it to me.

ok wait. i think i got another one. um, mariah carey. "and you don't remember" from her first or second album. probably second. the first was too 90's adult contemporary. i can find the lyrics... hold on. nevermind. this is too much as well. "Helplessly / I fell so deep / I was so naive / To let you in / Why did I let you in / To my heart / And you don't remember / Anything you told me / You were mine forever / For eternity / I know you don't remember / How you used to hold me / How we'd melt together / Together / How you needed me / How we used to be / In love"

come on now. you're telling me that nobody in the history of R&B has ever written a mild enough heartache song that's bittersweet but not absolutely depressing? i'm lookin' for "oh well, too bad, & so sad". you're giving me "woe is me, i need a drink, & my world is empty without you." and it's so not! please, people? people! get with the program. i'll bet even hallmark marks cards for this. whatever man.

well. for those of you Godfearing blog-voyeurs who've endured these hard times with me, i suppose i should at least touch upon the question of "where is God in all of this?" in truth, there is no situation in life that is irrelevant to him. ok, how about that thing from the book of revelations that kirk franklin quotes at the beginning of "revolution". ok, it's revelation 21:4. "and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes: there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying. There shall be no more pain, for the former things have passed away." excellent. that will suffice. ok, i'm done here. and thank you for listening.

the scritti part

2005-03-11T19:02:00.000-08:00

i'm going to put aside last week's grief fest for a moment. on a lark, i started listening to scritti politti's groundbreaking 80's pop album cupid & psyche '85. and while i was listening to this soundtrack, i was reading about green gartside on the lone scritti politti fan website online. its combination nostalgic and esoteric qualities make it a supreme draw for me. i think i like this guy he was one of those capricious types who caught a stroke of genius and coming from a punk rock foray in the late 70's make a kick-butt album fusing his europeanness with a love for black music and apparently. the bands name means "political writings" loosely translated from italian. the scritti part, however, i can get with.

this is one of those times man, where hearing this info sets my wheels turning and stokes my flames. tonight, i would love little more than to hole myself up in this teeny room with a MIDI keyboard, controller, sequencer, and a lot of wild ideas and just churn them out even if the lyrics are nonsensical and inaccessible. i might trip and fall into something brilliant. i just feel like i could create an absolute masterpiece right now, if i only had a chisel and some marble.

once day i'm gonna get some space move back and forth, and when i do, i'm going to use it to take a running start and leap over one of these plain white walls erected between myself and the beautiful music that looks like God and i. man, u just wait.

laugh

2005-03-09T17:14:00.000-08:00

about the hardest day in dealing with all this grief was last thursday. and i felt better after i had the major cataclysmic "ugly oprah cry", but i wasn't fully rid of the hovering fog that kept me from seeing too clearly. so on friday, after my class, i went home, and watched della reese beat the living crap out of eddie murphy in harlem nights. i tell you. that did me so much good. u just don't know. the side effect is that i've got curse words floating around my head that really shouldn't be there, but at least it helped me come out of my funk. sometimes you need a really good laugh.

thanks again to everybody who prayed for me, listened to me whine, or just resisted the opportunity to go deal with somebody else who was less afflicted for... on tuesday, i did not shed a single tear all day. my friend called me late that night when i left and talked to me for the entire 90 minute trip keeping me occupied, encouraged with the Word of God, laughing, and singing too. my problem was that i was expecting the worst. i didn't know who was gonna wild out and take it out on me (it's happened subtlely before). i didn't want to be in bakersfield. and i most certainly didn't want to be in bakersfield for a funeral. yet, there i was.

"...but dare i go where i don't understand / do i dare remember where i am / i stand before the great eternal throne / the one that God himself is seated on / and i... / i've been invited as a son / oh i, i've been invited to come and / believe the unbelieveable / receive the inconceivable / and see beyond my wildest imaginations / Lord I come with great expectations" - steven curtis chapman, "great expectations"

all crying aside, i was tellin' my boy before i hit the road that i didn't feel emotionally like i could make it through the day without coming apart. he replies back to me "that's why we walk by faith, and not by sight." i said, "thank you. i needed somebody to say that." so i spent most of the time trying to convince myself it might not be as bad as i thought, but i was in bakersfield and i was uncomfortable, and it was late, and just couldn't wait to get back home.

so come 11am in the morning, i was pleasantly disappointed. the family was in good spirits and smiling and laughing even though it was hard times all around. since our family has made up the core of the choir in this church for years, most of the people closest to the grief were in the stand, myself included. the preacher was long-winded and tune-happy, given to gusty exhales between his sung-preached phrases. so after awhile, we all tuned out and started doing the swerve to the music and giggling quietly as if no one else could see our shoulders heaving and the faces of the many folks with light complexions turning pink and squinting with laughter.

"Believe the unbelievable / with great expectation / Lord help me believe / these great expectations / I say I believe / Lord help me believe / These great expectations"

it was at this time that my expectations were so pleasantly disappointed. i was expecting trouble and i got laughter. and then i realized that these are my people. i haven't seen them in a shamefully long time, but this is my herd of swans. the rest of the time, i'm with ducks who have adopted me and take me as i am. but when we got together under pressure, we laughed. we watched t.v. and we laughed. we speckled the funeral remarks with jokes and we laughed. we hugged each other and cried and prayed, but we still laughed. it's part of the way i deal, and it took seeing the rest of my swans doing the same to realize that i'm not that weird afterall. i'm just a little removed from my herd right now.

one thing most of jerome's friends and relatives had to say was that he loved to eat. at about 6' tall, we were all amazed that he wasn't a heavier individual. not unlike me, i'm 6' 1", 150 lbs., but still known to straight wreck a buffet at any family gathering, and yes, i'm takin' a plate home. the food at the repass was off the chains and we loaded up our plates. i sat down with mine and somebody made a comment that i had the plate stuffed pretty high. so i said "yeah. jerome would have wanted it that way."

and we laughed.

get the point? and of course, the contrast is a little sharper on my mom's side of the family. my humor doesn't buy me as much as it would elsewhere. there are so many sensitive personalities and insecure folks that you can't do any gentle ribbing or odds are, someone will be offended. at my uncles funeral in 2003, my aunt remarked that she had lost several pounds worrying about her brother towards the end there. i remarked in lighthearted nature that she should consider it something of a parting gift from uncle c.d. i heard later on that that didn't go over so well. so i suppose those people don't quite believe in curing grief with a salve of humor. that's ok. we all do what we have to do to keep from crying and i think my method is working fine for me.

smile

2005-03-04T10:15:00.000-08:00

i spent most of yesterday playing in the traffic of a 4-lane highway made of begrudged pleasantry, quiet hostility, hope against despondence, and reluctant grief. i was unhappy that i was unhappy. upset that i was affected as much as i was. i didn't want to care. i don't like being tragic and dramatic. i don't want to make splashes in the water and attract attention to myself... not like this. i just want to be ok.

me and jerome were really cool as kids, but come to be grown men and we never saw each other, hung out, or had much in common but a last name. so i'm thinkin' to myself... "look. you got 15 upper division college units, a part time job, a home business, obligations at church, and dreams to chase. can you do this whole mourning thing later maybe? this is just-- this just isn't a good time." the upshot of this whole thing is that in crying so daggone much yesterday, my face got hella puffy and smoothed out those lines under my eyes that i always airbrush off of all my photos.

in the midst of it all, we opened up our music rehearsal in prayer with prayer being the focus. i didn't want to pray. i just wanted to sulk and glower at people. i'd been testy and sensitive all day. still, i just put my rank mood aside and prayed in the spirit, 'cause there was nothing else to do and at least this way i could be productive and at the same time be loud and aggressive (which pleased me heartily). at one point we were admonished to pray for one another, so my "big brother" kenny locked arms with me and we're both praying in the spirit. it would have been nice if i could have provided some reciprocal support, but i was tapped out and weak. he must have sensed that because he just hugged me and laid his head on my shoulder and continued praying while i just kinda came apart for a minute.

i have a varried array of confidants for each arena of concern in my life. kenny happened to be well versed on my workload since he refers me some of my highest profile clients as of late. so he probably assumed that with the pressure of school and work and whatever else was on top of me, i was beginning to crack under the pressure. while he was praying he was encouraging me to use the many gifts God has given me and press past myself to praise God anyway. all i could say was "ok" over and over again, but even that wasn't fitting well between my snivelling. i had to mute my sobs for dignity's sake 'cause when i cry, i cry loud. really loud. i would dare say it's the only time my otherwise lithe and soft voice carries and projects. i wish i could sing with that much power, but i digress.

i told the group there about the death in my family and they prayed for peace over everyone and that God be glorified even in tragedy. later on, pastor charles (better known to me as superchuck) playfully started singing the song to me that i sing to people whenever they look like they're really sad or just having a difficult time:

"smile though your heart is aching / smile even though it's breaking / when there are clouds in the sky / you'll get by / if you smile / through your fear and sorrow / smile and maybe tomorrow / you'll find / that life is still worthwhile / if you just... / light up your face with gladness / hide every trace of sadness / although a tear / may be ever so near / that's the time you must keep on trying / smile / what's the use of crying? / you'll find that life is still worthwhile / if you just smile" - charlie chaplin

it was funny and we all had a laugh, but it was timely. with kenny quoting pastor andrea's mantra to me "it's not about you" and my other friend goading me to sing some song when all i wanted to do was eat, crawl into bed, and sleep until "this too" passes, it was pretty apparent. those were the hands God was reaching out to me to keep me from sinking into some quicksand like depression. i didn't want to start crying, 'cause i was afraid i wouldn't stop like a fire started that gets out of control and starts engulfing things you don't want burned. holding it in was probably complicating my melancholy affect like when you have a cold and don't want to blow your nose. i feel like i'm ok though. to all of you who offered your condolences... thank you. i don't understand everything going on and that bothers me, but life is still worthwhile, so... <:)

untitled

2005-03-02T22:32:00.000-08:00

There are so many varied thoughts and emotions rising to the top of my mind, breaking at the surface, and then dissipating away unceremoniously, that I can't quite sew together enough of a common thread to aptly title this entry, so I'll try to piece this together so as not to create a murky mishmash of odd thoughts.

STIMULANTS:
1. Reconnected with my great aunt Dr. Edna McKenzie who, surprisingly enough to me, is 82 years old, active, alive, and well, and glory to God, also a cancer survivor. But now that I have her phone number and can talk to her, I can redocument the genealogy on my grandmother's side that I once had and then lost and also connect with all of my Chappelle relatives back east and find out whether Dave is family or not.

2. Found out that my cousin Jerome was killed by a drunk driver last night while on his motorcycle around 12 or 1. Only 3 months older than I, he had just turned 26. The unsettling irony is that my own father was killed in a motorcycle accident at the age of about 26. Unsure of the ramifications of any generational curse, I besought that God have mercy on me should anything so tragic be written for me. Having this happen to him in a way I thought might have been in store for me makes me feel as if a fate intended for my life jumped its tracks and took my cousin away instead. I'm still not quite sure how to feel.

3. I tried to talk to my mother about how I felt about Jerome's death and the candid admission of my feelings of mortality didn't set well with her. She became alarmed (as any mother would), I became dismissive, she became offended, then became defensive, I became offput and wished I hadn't even said anything in the first place.

REACTIONS:
1. I'm so excited to hear from Aunt Edna. She's the nearest piece of my grandmother living and even though she's older, her vitality is impeccable. There's stuff all over the internet about the books and articles she's written. She's got her doctorate and is a professor emeritus at a community college as well as former trustee at a Pennsylvania University. I like old people. I need them around. I wish I could just buy a ticket, hop on a plane and go see her right now and have one of those family reunions like at the end of Antwone Fisher where the farther you walk into the house, the older the generation you meet and they let you sit at the table and everybody's glad to see you, et cetera, et cetera. That's idealized, but I would love to connect with these people. I haven't seen them since I was 4, and I really wish I at least had e-mail addresses for some of them.

2. It's kinda ironic how I heard about Jerome. Because in looking for Great Aunt Edna, I half thought that she would have passed on in the years since I've talked to her, but she is alive and sounds great even though she just had a major surgery to beat cancer. She reminded me I didn't have a current phone number for Uncle Tim, so I called Uncle David, and he told me about the accident with Jerome. So where I was expecting death I found life and only moments later I was expecting life and was shown death. Sorry. No punch line here. It's not the entertaining kind of irony like I prefer.

3. Whenever something like this happens, I start to examine my life. If I were to leave now, would I be ready? Physically? Spiritually? Have I done all I need to do? Am I satisfied with the legacy I've left? Et cetera again. I don't want to die. I'm not seeking an early exit to this life. But I have known for quite some time that I'm not much attached to this world. When my old pastor had an aneurysm and slipped into a coma before dying, it was recounted that he once said if he had a choice between Heaven and Earth, his kids would have to excuse him because he would choose Heaven hands down. I feel like that, and I'm only slightly uncomfortable talking about it, because I'm from a family that (before Christ) was raised to be extremely superstitious. I don't believe in superstition. I believe in Jesus, and I believe that He is in control of myself and my life and not some hapless writer with the title of "Higher Power", and a taste for cruel irony in his pen. If I were ever to die young, I would want my homegoing to actually be a celebration. Just like my wish at my birthday parties, I would want as many of my friends as I could get to be present wishing me well. I would want people to care about how I lived and what I wrote and moderately preserve the tracks I've left while here on Earth. Though I believe that after I die and go on to be with Jesus, nothing else much matters, I would want people who knew me and loved me to remember, but not stop progressing. I would want my mother to be about her life and maybe re-marry and go fulfill her dreams. I would want my sister to start the businesses she's always planned to and get out of Bakersfield and go somewhere where the majority of the men aren't married, triflin', white, jobless, or gay. I would want my nephew to know how much I liked us being alike even though I wouldn't verbalize it too much. There's not many things I don't verbalize. I make it a point to tell people I love that I love them. And I make it a point not to throw the phrase around carelessly if I don't mean it so that when I do say it, the recipient knows it's a valuable thing. I would want to be understood and researched the way I've researched to understand my father posthumously. I would want little artifacts like letters in my own handwriting and songs I've written but never recorded to be valuable to people who knew me. I would like for people to say that I was great and that their lives were better because of something I did or said.

4. Even six years after, I still miss my grandfather intermittently. Not all the time. I've learned how to get along and life is good. But right now is one of those times when things aren't going quite like I'd like them to, and I'm a little pouty and I just wanna be that little cossetted brat that I was for a while and go curl up and sit on his lap and lay my head on his chest and hear his heart beating. He told me I used to go to sleep that way when I was a baby. But I'm not talking about as a baby. I mean, I was a pretty big 12-13-somethin' year old and i would still need to come sit in Papa's lap with my lanky limbs half hangin' off of him and his favorite reclining chair that never moved and always stayed in the same space. The feeling occurs to me again because when I tried to talk to my mother, my mother was steady responding and exhorting me to do this and intimating how she prays about that and loquacious as I can be, it's still a challenge to get a word in edgewise with her. I love that lady, I do. I just wish sometimes I could vent to her about all the pointless crap I think about and feel. The ephemeral stuff that I may not even pursue. Alas, listening is just not my mother's strong suit. It seems to be the same most often that if I have some problem, I may begin explaining it, but before I can get to the period at the end of the sentence, she has already interrupted with what she thinks is the solution. A lot of times it's good advice, worth hearing. But I'm not an individual who is incapable of running my own show. I didn't call her for advice. What I really wanted was somebody to listen to me whine, pat me on the back, say "it's ok, you'll be alright", humor me, and then send me on my way and do the real work in prayer after i get off the phone. I don't have that. And you know who suffers because of it? Not me. It's you. Because you end up having to read these thick-sliced paragraphs with no breaks in-between. I feel sorry for you, but it's okay, and you'll be alright. See? That feels good don't it.

5. At my grandfather's funeral, I remember being pretty calm and settled having done the lionshare of my grieving upon finding out that he wasn't going to fight the cancer he was diagnosed with. Jerome however, was pretty sad and couldn't stop crying. I wasn't sure if he was feeling what I thought he was, but in case I was right, I told him "Jerome, Grandfather's body is in that coffin, but Grandfather is not." Me and Jerome were real close as kids, but when we got older we drifted apart pretty quick. I never saw him much, and so it doesn't rock my world in any direct manner, and I was hoping it would be one of those events that is tragic, but doesn't stir any of my emotions. And it didn't. Until I realized that at that very moment he might have been in Heaven standing before Jesus, with Grandfather... and Grandmother... and Uncle Ralph... and my dad... and everybody else who's passed out of this life into the eternal one... and for a moment, I just really envied him a lot.

SYNOPSIS:
As far as crises go, this isn't much unlike "Peach" moving on and getting a new man. It impacts big at the start, but quickly drops off in urgency. Had none of this happened, I wouldn't have made any big rush to ever find or hang out with Jerome. I would have probably only chanced to see him at a family function cohesive enough to attract all of the members of our family (like say, a funeral sadly and ironically enough). This is sad, disheartening, disappointing. But it doesn't stop my life or change my plans. I almost felt guilty that I wasn't more mournful at his death, but no. I think I have already given this more contemplation than I need to. I will not allow this to be a cheap excuse for me to milk a tragedy to get some attention and sympathy. It wouldn't taste the same anyway.

congratulations

2005-02-27T01:44:00.000-08:00

i will try to make my point as quickly and succinctly as possible, because there are many, many tangents off on which i can go. today i got one of those messages that no guy wants to get. 'twas my ex-girlfriend referred to here as "Peach", e-mailing to tell me that the reason she hasn't been available much is not just 'cause she was working a lot as she said, but because she's been dating someone new. now, given we've been apart for well over a year now. but no man, and i mean no man wants to hear about their ex dating somebody new. i mean, that is, unless they were married and it means they don't have to pay alimony anymore, but this is not the case.

Wisdom from Living Single's Khadijah on why men are obsessed with their ex's: "Synclaire, it's basic male psychology. When a man sees an ex-girlfriend, he can't believe she's still breathing--and forming complete sentences. How does she do it? He must know."

so lemme get a grip on reality real quick. facts are: (1) we broke up many moons ago. (2) i did the breaking up. (3) she's a great girl and deserves somebody who can get with her. (4) this doesn't mean i'm left behind 'cause nothing i was doing before was dependent on her and nothing happening in the future is either. (5) i'm where i want to be and i'm reminding myself right now that i have no regrets about the breakup. (6) i will come into the meaningful God-ordained relationship that i want to in God's timing and until then, i will continue doing exactly what i have been doing... trying to be more like him and not trippin' out in the meantime.

any questions? none? ok. thank you for listening.

train's comin'

2005-02-22T12:24:00.000-08:00

i don't know why i have this ominous sense right now. perhaps i'm just on edge, but i get this feeling that i really need to tighten my belt right now. months ago, i was praying and i pace while i pray most of the time. in this instance, i happened to be pacing down the center dividing line of two rooms. i felt the lord saying "get to one side." get to one side? what's that supposed to mean? well, i started seeing trains like in a subway and thought of instances in movies where someone is walking around inside the system where the train tracks run such that if a train comes, at best, you're in for an unpleasant experience clinging flush to the side of the area where the train is coming through only feet away from your face. at worst, you're in for the ultimate unpleasant experience if you're anywhere on the tracks otherwise in the path of the train when it comes through. i believe this is why God was trying to tell me to "get to one side".

i don't know if the figurative train coming is literally trouble intended to mow down anybody straddling the tracks with their house in disorder, or if it's a call of the "wade in the water" variety where i'm supposed to step into the water so that when God "troubles" it, i get my much anticipated blessing. emotionally, i'm betting my nickel on it being trouble. but regardless of what it is, the point is still "get to one side". get it together, streamline, optimize, reduce, compact, whatever you gotta do so that if there's a pop quiz of sorts, you'll be ready. i'll keep you posted if anything validates the feeling.

why it's ok for kanye west to be a pompous hellion

2005-02-17T18:54:00.000-08:00

quoth kanye himself, "somebody tell these ni***s who kanye west is?!"

of course, by the title you would have to assume that i think kanye west is a pompous hellion. well actually, no. but i'm certain that there are people who do. he's a shameless self-promoter, his ego is bloated to say the least, and to add insult to injury, he considers himself a servant of God. why, the nerve?! doesn't it bug you when people who think too highly of themselves feel the need to broadcast it to the masses? well, for some reason, his broadcasts don't rub me wrong at all. i rather enjoy him.

i am a self-professed underdog supporter to an almost absolute degree and kanye west is one of my favorites. kanye's indignance is that of someone coming from under the heap, tossing bodies left and right only trying to get what he deserves. so when i see him arriving at the podium with grammy award firmly in hand though sweaty, breathing hard, and a little scuffed up, i cheer. he made it to the gala to sit among the dignified folks anyway. his peers and predecessors went down in obscurity, but he had the drive to end up on top of the heap come hell or high water. so when he says he's the best and commands that "somebody tell these ni***s" who he is, it doesn't bother me at all... because i believe he is the best. in his field, at this point in time? yes.

now, i can't touch on this subject without mentioning the favorite object of my consummate disaffection, one usher raymond iv, more commonly known to me as "bullethead". i have to admit, he is on top right now. but he really grates on me. it's a double standard for sure, but the subtle difference is that i believe kanye west's braggadocio is only on the exterior and well fashioned to function in the entertainment industry where he operates. usher on the other hand seems to be arrogant for the sake of arrogance. he's calmer now, but i still feel like the smug component of his persona doesn't just rest on his surface, but it goes straight down to the bone. and for this cause, i am a hatater and may always be. when i see him, i am compelled from some deep inner place to draw upon my mightiest might and boo a resounding boo loud as the rolling sea in our beloved negro national anthem. a'own like that nyacka!

am i buying into the stereotype of being soft towards the specialty group of "those having overcome adversity"? yes, because i can personally identify with it. why wouldn't it be legitimate though? everyone has overcome some type of adversity. plus, nothing is absolute. i don't like usher, but if i got the chance to meet him, i'd like to. hang out with him? no. not so much. also, i'm predisposed to dig kanye west, but if i found out that i had misjudged his self-confidence as a tip when it's actually an iceberg, i'm not beyond giving him the gas face either. i think i've communicated my view well, but the bottom bottom of the bottom line is that this is my opinion and it may not matter at all.

long as you have the weather

2005-02-16T18:12:00.000-08:00

all this week you could hear the ominous murmurings of the people rising from the campus. "it's gonna rain on tuesday. it's gonna rain all week." and sure enough, the weather forecast i checked confirmed that a storm was a-brewin'. brewin' up enough to shower through to saturday. conveniently, i broke my umbrella tryin' to stay dry during the last storm. so even though i was a little pressed for cash, i made a special $15 investment to make sure my freshly retightened locks would stay that way for at least another week. plus, i like this new-fangled umbrella. it's more compact than the other, opens and closes at the push of a button, and has a lifetime warranty.

so i'm carryin' my brand new little toy around just waitin'. half a day goes by and hardly a cloud yet hangs in the sky. to add insult to injury, the sun began breaking through the clouds and the gray started to retreat to every far corner of the sky. what is this all about? why, it didn't rain all day long. today, i got up and the sun was shinin' just as bright as it wanna. 63° outside at 9:30am. now it's 6:30pm at night and there is not a cloud in the sky. i can see the beautiful fading gradient of sunset roll from a bright ocean blue hue to a deep star-spekled celestial indigo. it's lovely and all, but i didn't even get to play with my new toy.

it's all well and good though. i didn't want it to rain no how. i tell you what though. i'm done investin' money based on ominous consensus and official sounding weather forecasts. it doesn't much matter how learned our meteorologists claim they are. the sky is still God's, and i don't mean to threaten a whole industry, but as far as predicting whether the sun will come up or rain will come down... what if -- and i know this is deep -- them jokers just don't know? how 'bout that?

doggone lanky blonde done stole my grammy!

2005-02-15T23:24:00.001-08:00

i watched this year's grammy awards ceremony and they were nice, but that's all they were. the three highlights were (1) watching joss stone sing, (2) watching alicia keys sing and (3) watching alicia keys be fine while singing. that was about it for me. i was glad kanye west got grammies. his arrogance somehow doesn't bother me at all. i cheer him on. go figure. i was rather disappointed that tonex didn't nab the grammy for best contemporary soul gospel album. but i am confident that he will have many a chance in the not too distant future. the whole thing prompted me to go to grammy.com and go see who has and hasn't been graced with a golden grammophone.

it was funny looking down the corridors and saying yay for those i supported. but then i recalled one anomaly... eartha. who the heck is eartha? in 2003 i think it was, this independent artist virtually unknown to me pulled a jaw dropping coup, snuck up quietly from behind, made a lunge for it with teeth borne and nabbed the grammy for best contemporary soul gospel album, did a tumble across the stage and then promptly ran out of the auditorium with the police trailing fast behind her. nah. i'm lyin'. she won it fair and square. but how the heck did that happen? and who was this chick anyway? from what i new, her first album barely made any noise at all and i didn't even know she had a sophomore release. so how did this enigmatic tall lanky black chick with the blonde buzz cut and throaty contralto successfully nab this coveted accolade and successfully make off with it? the answer may rest right along side that of what kanye west would have done if he didn't win any grammies this year, for no man knows.

here's where my oddity comes in. it's been two years, right? well, i'm still mad about it. the sophomore album sidebars was on some independent label named a.f.r.t. music that i'd never heard of in my life. i had never seen the album in any store. i felt like i had been cheated myself. this whole passionate sentiment seems strange though because what does that have to do with me? upon reevaluating it, i've decided to change my mind. looka here.

so this whole notion of the grammies is elitist, right? and i tend to eschew anything elitist... that is until i wanna be down, and then? they're ok. shutup. i'm a hypocrite and i know it and i'm clappin' my hands. *clap, clap* the idea is that only the best, brightest, yada yada et cetera are supposed to qualify for this type of kudos. i was actually offended that someone who i did not recognize as fitting, worthy, or suited managed to secure an almost impossible victory.

my whole reaction seems completely out of character for me because i have made a way of life out of rooting for the underdog, scowling when beloved icons like india.arie, aaliyah, amel larrieux, and kenny lattimore were effectively shut out, and cheering when somebody from the middle layer gets hoisted above the smog layer for a moment in the sunshine. i seem to have forgotten my ingenuous prayers and wishes to someday be awarded a grammy myself. had i remembered, i would have celebrated this anomaly as a good one. why be upset when an unknown comes from out of nowhere and bests the likely contenders to set the entire modis operandi on end? need i remind myself that i'm an unknown hailing from nowhere sitting neatly under a pile of likely (as well as heavy) contenders piled high to the sky. it's a wonderful case for faith. i listened to clips of eartha's grammy winning aberration of a sophomore album. and i can't deny that i'm largely unimpressed. that grammy could have been mine!

"it's about frontin' on suckas you went to high school wit. all the people you couldn't get wit. all the people that's put'cha down. stole ya money. stole yo girl... i wasn't always perfect, baby. gina?! i wasn't always the mack! back then, ricky fontaine was the man. pretty ricky what they called him." (c)1993 martin payne on high school reunions.

speaking as a true artist and ignorer of kanye west's overbearing overconfidence, i think my roughly cut and completely underground album was way better than hers. and i'm sure that even her fellow nominees in the category had albums that were better than hers and names that were more well known and videos that were better shot and record companies with more money. doesn't matter. whether there was a clerical error or the competition got disqualified on an isolated technicality, ms. eartha has a grammy and there ain't not a nary thang none of us can do about it. i haven't sold 200 copies of my independent album, but God's word did say that all things are possible through Jesus Christ. so what if one day dispite my rampantly shameful player-hatation in this situation, i actually get nominated for a grammy by some mountain-moving act of God? and then... what if i get it?? we can no longer say it's impossible. whether you believe in Jesus or not, even heathen's can't deny hard facts.

so. i have decided that i am no longer mad at eartha. for if i can't rejoice about a sister of mine getting a major blessing, how is God gonna bless me? shoot. i know she live right here in l.a. if i see her, i'mma hug her and tell her to rock on with her bad enigmatic tall lanky buzz cut blonde-haired throaty contralto-voiced self. can you dig it?

these ordinary days

2005-02-14T13:37:00.000-08:00

i'm not so far removed that i can't the remember the last time i was grandly passionate about life. seeing as it was such a marked stretch of green pastures, i remember it vividly. i just can't remember how i got there. these days, i tend to just kinda go about, doing ok, doing alright, not bad, not wonderful. not really praying too hard, not really reading too fervently, not really doing anything full out. it feels a lot like a trailer park looks... not too impressive, but it qualifies as shelter.

Not much for conversation, I still find need to pray. Sometimes I get tired of walking through these ordinary days. If nothing else I get to see you even if we never speak. The harm of words is sometimes we don't quite know what they really mean. I don’t know where, I don’t know how. I don’t know why, but your love can make these things better." - Jars Of Clay, "These Ordinary Days"

it seems to be part of the ebb and flow. not every day is perfect. thank God things are pretty stable. no drama, no big worries. just carrying my load, doing my part, nothing spectacular. i am able to stand this because i know it's only temporary. soon enough there will be some joy, some relief, some elation, some laughter, some entertainment, something interesting coming. but today, not so much.

i don't like to be this way. i prefer days when each is a different entertaining ring of a circus. plenty of colors and merry sounds. i've taken to watching cartoons lately. maybe it's my mind trying to get the stimulating nutrients it needs (normally only found in a box of crayons). it's partially the weather too. these days, all skies are half cloudy if not fully so. it has no really bearing on what goes on, but it's just the environment at this point. not reason to worry. i'll be glad to get back to high times again.

spike lee, don't let me catch you in the street

2005-02-12T00:58:00.000-08:00

spike lee will never work in this town again. that is, if i can find a means to buy up everything in hollywood for the sole purpose of being able to tell him a hearty "you're fired. so fired." i juggled my schedule around tonight so i could get my locks retwisted. however, the featured film that my hairdresser homegirl rented to occupy two-hours was she hate me, a pseudo-soft-porn-romp with a plot. i really like kerry washington, but she lost 5 points for starring in this piece of trash. it was one of those films where i wanted to take a shower soon as i got away from the screen. in it, an out of work ex-corporate solves his cash flow problem by farming himself out in a niche market: impregnating lesbian women for $10,000 per conception.

"hated it!" - damon wayans and david alan grier
from their in living color sketch routine "men on film".

ideally, what i should have done was politely excused myself from the room so i wouldn't have been subjected to the bevy of sordid sex scenes and lewd language, but i really wanted to get my hair done and i didn't want to have to do it myself again. so i sat through about an hour and a half of this by reverting to the juvenile practice of covering my eyes with my index fingers while closing my ears with my thumbs. unfortunately, i also reverted to the juvenile practice of peeking anyway and for all of my moral failing for the night, i think i'm gonna call it a wash and start over tomorrow morning as according to the Bible, that's when God's mercies get their daily renewal, right?

whatever the case, spike lee is the worst. everyday. don't let me catch him in the street. amen.

love and candy

2005-02-02T10:30:00.000-08:00

as a child, money was a thing with a singular purpose. it existed solely as a means to get me candy. i was pretty easy to please. something from each of the 4 junk food groups (fruit, chocolate, chips, and ice cream) and i had balanced meal. once i found $20 in the grass and the first thing i did was spend it. it didn't occur to me that it may have some other purpose.

conversely, now i am a man. and i still love candy. but i have much more currency and much more sophisticated tastes. ok, so for the nth time, let's take inventory. i've got some smarts, some good looks, some talent, and some wit to worth with. but apparently now, candy alone won't do. so i propose that i and my God-given commodities put our heads together and scratch up a plan to get us all loved. sound good?

"I think it pisses God off if you walk by the color purple in a field and don't notice it... I just wanna be loved... Yeah, Celie. Everything wanna be loved. Us sing and dance and holler... just tryin' to be loved. Look at them trees. Ever notice how trees do everything to get attention that we do? Except walk... Oh Miss Celie, I feels like sangin'!" - a portion of Shug Avery's dialogue from The Color Purple.

i'm sure that many of things we do, we don't understand, but... beware: cliche coming... i believe we do it all for love. that is, whatever we believe love to actually be. everybody and everything is trying to be noticed, become attractive, become powerful, be in control, be in demand, get ahead of the game, move, shake, advance, and arrive at a destination that says: "yes. i am good, i am deserving, i qualify, and thus i can now be loved." it's almost as if love is like candy, and if you've got money or something else to barter with, then you can acquire it.

"Sometimes is never quite enough / If you're flawless, then you'll win my love / Don't forget to win first place / Don't forget to keep that smile on your face... / Be a good boy / Push a little farther now / That wasn't fast enough / To make us happy / We'll love you / Just the way you are / if you're perfect." - Alanis Morrisette, "Perfect"

once while in prayer, the Lord told me that a lot of the problems i was having stemmed from "a lack of love in my life". i thought that odd because i was surrounded by friends and family. i was happy and, i felt, stable. well nonetheless, God doesn't speak in vain. the more i learn about love, the more i find out how much i didn't know. i had a lot of the concept wrong. i had love defined as "like" or "enjoy" or some other mere feeling. it's more substantial than that. in 1 corinthians 13, it's described as enduring, unselfish, humble, tempered, empathetic, just & upright, trusting, optimistic, and eternal among other things. that's the "God kind of love".

love is not portioned out only to "them that's got" and denied to everyone else because by that course, i would never make the cut. i still don't feel worthy, but God loves us all without a prequisite or other cover charge and implores us to love each other that way. He said he is "no respecter of persons" and that he "so loved the whole world that He gave His only begotten Son". He didn't say He loved a portion of the world and the rest would have to contend for his divine leftovers.

however, if that was the case, it would make sense that we act as if only the best will be awarded the prize and scuffed runners-up who are lacking in table manners will be condemned to lonely perdition just because they were dealt bad hands. we were all dealt bad hands, but if we -- and when i say we, i primarily mean i -- could just understand that we already have all the love we will ever need freely given to us, we might stop working so hard to get it. sangin', dancin', hollerin', just tryna be loved.

further reading: "to have to prove and do and be", an entry from july 2004 that remained unfinished until today.

seeing me everyday

2005-01-28T23:58:00.000-08:00

if i could sing it for you right now, i would...

"disappointment cuts me like a knife
but i won't be afraid...
you are my fortress in the storm
i will cling to you like a sailor lost in the wind...
i know now
you are my sure thing
you know my heart
you know my soul
you know my comings and goings
you know it all
i adore you"
- phil joel, "i adore you"

"there's no other love
nowhere in the world
greater than my love for you
you belong to me
i adore you
so don't hesitate to call me

i know sometimes you feel alone
you're all alone with no one
i'm always by your side
oh i see you everyday

i see you everyday
sending my love your way
watching your every move
covering you with grace
all that i ask of you
talk to me everyday
the bond is stronger
when you know that
i'll be right there

look up to the stars
you see no ending
infinity is waiting for you
i'll hold to my promise
just keep me in your heart
you'll feel safe in knowing i'm there

you're so precious to me
everyday i'll hold you so close to me
i just need you to have faith in me
you can move mountains
through my love for you"
- karen clark sheard, "i'll be right there"

always trying to be grown. always trying to be mature. always trying to be responsible. but sometimes things just don't turn out like you want them to. sometimes you don't want wisdom or a real solution. sometimes you had a hard day and you know it's just one day and tomorrow may be better. but still. you just want some sympathy. for right now. no one i know is shallow or patronizing enough to offer such a temporal consolation, but it's nice to know that Jesus is open to it every now and then. just so i know somebody's watching, listening, caring about what's going on great and small. it's such a comfort to know that i won't have to do everything by myself. that's all.

why should i feel discouraged?

2005-01-28T11:03:00.000-08:00

every now and then i have to ask myself the question: "mark, what is wrong with you?" all this month, i've been fighting off depression like people stave off the common cold. where you might find people wrapped in scarves, scarfing down soups, popping chewable vitamins like candy, january has instead seen a somewhat unwelcome spike in the frequency of fasting, desperation of prayers, and foraging in the Bible. i suppose i wouldn't "feel" so uneasy if i was leaning towards drama and willing to accept it and wallow in pity and what have you, but i'm just not interested. sorry, ain't feelin' it.

i mean, how do you come off of a near 2 month high and drop into this? quoth comedienne phyllis yvonne stickney, "somethin' have got to be did!" i shall not stand for this bullying from satan. i gotta go find me some scripture or cling to me some song or brandish some confession or all of the above. but all this "just-cause-it's-cloudy-outside,-i-gotta-be-cloudy-inside" junk has to go.

"why should i feel discouraged? / why should the shadows come? / why should my heart be lonely / and long for my heav'nly home / when Jesus is my portion? / a constant friend is he / his eye is on the sparrow / and i know he watches me" - "his eye is on the sparrow" (traditional)

so let's ennumerate the blessings again, shall we?

(1) i am returning to csun's beautiful, clean, intellectually burgeoning campus for the first time in 2 years. (2) verdant spring is near, one of my favorite times of year. (3) i've received financial aid for the first time in my nearly 8 year college career. (4) i am sewing up loose ends on several long-lingering web jobs that i've been wanting to put silver bullets into. (5) i'm thrilled to accept the challenge of taking on 15 units (in 5 classes) of upper division art classes even though i'm sure it means i'm going to have to step up my game in a really real way. (6) my church still rocks. everyday. even when we've had hard weeks. (7) Jesus exists, making it possible and worthwhile to continue living and breathing. (8) i finally caught up on my car payment. (9) i have more clothes than i know what to do with and am not pressed to find something nice to wear at most occasions. (10) my strenuous financial situation has only caused me to budget more, be wiser, eat at home more often, and discover a love for spaghetti that i don't think i've ever had before. (11) i had another convo with my mom last night that could have been rocky and disenchanting any other time, but by the time she got off the phone, i didn't want to curse at or disown her. ;-) that lady's alright. (12) somebody who said they would pay me actually did. wow! (13) i'm still surviving well inspite of those who haven't paid me. (14) my financial aid check will actually "aid" me. novel concept, eh? (15) i continue to derive joy from seeing that episode of girlfriends where toni childs gets married and for the recessional, all the girls get their boogie on to shalamar's "a night to remember". (16) i am healthy, confident, and looking pretty gosh darn handsome these days. recalling what it feels like to not feel this way, i wholly appreciate the change. (17) i just finished watching the last episodes on my first season of taxi dvd collection and i found out that the 4-disc second season will be released this tuesday. the timing couldn't be more perfect. (18) not having the money to buy it right now only gives me something to look forward to in the near future. (19) i finally got a new weekly calendar insert for my dayrunner so i can start getting my life organized.

i was a stepford husband

2005-01-24T21:25:00.000-08:00

I'm guilty. Charged on multiple counts of snivelling insecurity and general player hatation. I watched this scene from The Stepford Wives (2004) and felt compelled to finally turn myself in.

Walter: "Ever since we met, you've beaten me at everything. You're better educated, you're stronger, you're faster, you're a better dancer, a better tennis player, you've always earned at least six figures more than I could ever dream of. you're a better speaker, a better executive, you're even better at sex. Don't deny it."
Joanna: "I wasn't going to."
Walter: "Well don't I get anything?"
Joanna: "You got me!"
Walter: "No, I got to hold your purse. I got to tell the kids that you'd be late again. I got to tell the press that you had no comment. I got to work for you."
Joanna: "With me!"
Walter: "Under you! All of us! We married wonder women! Supergirls! Amazon queens. Well, you know what that makes us?"
Joanna: "Smart! Worthy! Lucky!"
Walter: "We're the wuss. The wind beneath your wings. We're the 'girl'."
All The Men: "And we don't like it!"

Just like this cadre of crossed-up husbands railing away about their relegated positions, I once had a beautiful, talented, and enterprising young lady in love with me. Yet I could not deal with the fact that she was in so many ways better than me. I was one of those guys. So afraid their woman would make more money or get more attention that it all but paralyzed my ability to be the man she fell in love with in the first place. I should be so lucky though. She chose me. All I really had to do was walk slow and let her catch me. I wanted to be the conqueror though, and if I couldn’t, then I was taking my toys and going home. I even confided to a friend that if anyone was going to do the breaking up, it was going to be me. I didn't want to let it be said that I was the one who got left.

We used to talk about our dreams and plans. Mine were vague and liquid (just like an artist), while hers involved her buying a house and moving out of state in the not too distant future. Its very mention was disturbing because for that plan to be carried out, I'd have to be dropped off on the side of the road en route to wherever she was headed. That terrified me. I didn't want to be excluded or abandoned. I didn't want her and her magnetic personality hanging around my friends either, afraid they'd gravitate toward her and forget all about me. Most threatening of all was her success in the music industry. She once invited me to accompany her to a fairly high profile movie premiere, however after being chided by her management for mixing her personal and professional lives, the invite was rescinded. I didn't care so much about the event, but the let down and the rejection more than anything else wounded my pride mortally.

My resident pipe dream has always been to have a successful music career. To me, she was living in reality what I had only dreamed about and I could not stand it. Again, I was afraid that I might never accomplish what I desired, and thus forever resent her. It seems ridiculous to me now, but back then you couldn't tell me that the sky wasn't falling. I was convinced. I was well on the road to becoming poison within the relationship because I could not bring myself to truly be happy for her.

The worst case hypothetical scenarios played in my head on a perpetual loop. I could see us limping badly through a rickshaw marriage and her soaring ever the higher with each door opened. I meanwhile would look on from afar, attached to her in law, but compartmentalized away from a most prominent part of her life and intensely bitter about it. More or less, I would have played a second-fiddle, desiccating Bobby Brown to my own private Whitney Houston.
Worse yet, I feared that if I let myself go long enough, I might even sink to the Ike Turner level. That's the one where you're so out of control of the vice that you begin doing anything within your power to stifle, muzzle, or even subconsciously sabotage the woman you're sworn to love and protect.

"You better love loving and you better behave
You better love loving and you better behave
Woman in chains, woman in chains
Calls her man the great white hope
Says she's fine, she'll always cope
Woman in chains, woman in chains"
- Tears For Fears featuring Oleta Adams, "Woman In Chains"

Turner famously compensated for his own concaved self-image by manipulating what he could to terrorize his wife. I almost empathize with him, tragically driven past the point of losing control by the very fear of losing control. Sad story. Nevertheless, this is not a man. The possible prospect of even becoming someone like this was scary enough for me that I promptly excused myself from the relationship.

My intent was never to use her to attain some high position by way of her coattail. I sincerely appreciated her who she was, but more weighty was the fact that was so disappointed with who I was. A close friend of mine diagnosed the situation correctly when she told me bluntly "you are not mature enough to handle this relationship."

So what are control-obsessed males like me to do when threatened with disenfranchisement? Are we doomed to pair off with submissive, subpar women so we never fear feeling inferior again? Well I don't know what the rest of "ya'll" are gonna do, but I gotta go somewhere and find me a can of GetRight so I won't have to settle for some clueless Barbie doll who has nothing going for her but looks which may all but expire in 20-30 years time. I want a strong, intelligent, capable, beautiful woman. Maybe not quite an "Eva", but in the event that I falter, she needs to be able to stand on her own and not collapse.

What I know is for all of the progress I've made, I still have work to do. When I'm more confident that who I am, what I do, and what I've got is good, I'm unconcerned with who is doing better or getting more. If at the time I dated this girl I would have had that already accomplished, we might still be together today. It's OK though. Water under the bridge, hard lesson learned, better luck next time.

"billie jean, it's not my birthday."

2005-01-23T18:55:00.000-08:00

i just had the coolest "surprise birthday party", but i should have known something was wrong from the beginning. it started out normally though, the way many of my birthday parties have started: with 2 people having shown up because i suck at planning parties. so it's dark outside and raining and me and these lone 2 friends are celebrating my birthday and it's a definitely low-key affair. plus, one of them is pointedly distracted because she'd just gotten into a car accident the same day and is spending the time "venting".

i am disappointed, but i've come to expect this of my birthdays after awhile now. and then, there's a twist. we walk into a room for cake or whatever, and everybody from my church family is there and they all greet me singing saying "what, do you think we forgot?" and it was great. see, every year, i don't really trip on gifts at all, but it's a complete drag to be alone on your birthday. all i really want is to have people that i care about show up, laugh and eat, and show they love me by spending some time. it makes my year. so when i saw them all, i was beside myself. i thought that they had forgotten.

but then the twist gets twisted. some guy who looks like michael jackson shows up, smiles real big, shakes my hand, gives me a hug and says happy birthday. it takes me a minute to survey, but i look, and i look, and it actually is michael jackson. i flip for two reasons. one, michael jackson is at my birthday party, and two, he's chillin' like he's known me my whole life. plus, they tell me janet is in the other room. i see the back of her head, but i don't want to get excited until i see her face to face. mainly i'm wondering who knew somebody who knew somebody who had mad connections and pulled the string of a lifetime. are you dubious? good. 'cause i am too... but nonetheless fully in the moment and completely overcome by it.

we all go into a room that seats about 200 and it's pretty dang near full of people that i don't know, but probably met me once at one time or another. they seat me in the back and i'm all amped wondering what's gonna happen next. well, nobody comes on stage, but people start standing up from the crowd and turning to me with spotlights on them. a few were cousins from bakersfield smiling and wishing me a happy birthday.

then the spotlight goes to somebody entering the room and i recognize it's vanessa bell armstrong. then she starts singing and walks across the room and hands the mic to someone else in the crowd. it's three singers i don't recognize, a guy and two girls, but i do recognize one of the girls is from the group pam & dodi and she's hitting some really high notes while the other two do 2 part harmony.

then an even bigger surprise. in four different places in the room, women stand up and spotlights hit them and i absolutely bug out when i realize it's the clark sisters: twinkie, jackie, dorinda, and closest to me is karen. then they start singing in perfect harmony. at this point i am completely in disbelief. i didn't pinch myself, but i did have a look outside to see if there was some other incredible surprise out there and there was. it was bright and midday sunny outside.
at this point, i'm like "hold up. what's going on here. it was dark and raining before." and then it's like my own brain starts talking to me with an overdubbed voice in by-the-by fashion: "oh yeah. it's a dream." regardless of how real what i saw felt, i was dreaming the whole thing. now i don't like practical jokes and i had just played a big one on myself. i felt sentiments of being chagrinned, cheated, and disappointed rising up in me as i put the pieces together...

like what was michael jackson doing there? and janet too? and all those gospel singers i love? i don't even know twinkie clark. and exactly who were those lone two friends who i was hanging with? i've never met them in my entire life. and really, the whole time, i was kinda thinking: "hmm. i didn't know it was my birthday. oh well." seriously though. if michael jackson showed up at your house for your birthday, but it wasn't your birthday, would you send him home?

i was just amazed at this full out reasoning process that happened completely within a dream, like nested mismatched levels of weird consciousness and unconsciousness. i even reckoned to myself that it was still january 2005 and my birthday's not 'til april when arriving at the conclusion. but before i could get mad at whoever punk'd me, my brain says again, "well? so? it's a dream. get on back in there and enjoy it." so i thought "eh... why not." so i went back to the celebration, still asleep and well aware that i was dreaming, and i enjoyed myself.

why you treat me so bad?

2005-01-17T14:46:00.000-08:00

well, first, i feel compelled to explain why as a grown man, i would still rent a movie pointedly written and marketed for teens and tweens. so then "lemme 'splain something to you, lucy." from time to time, i find myself absolutely fascinated with these abjectly stupid teen flicks. work with me now. i'm a little different. i have been known to find curious delight in the music of actors-turned-singers like jasmine guy and joey lawrence. and i did buy both the dvd and accompanying soundtrack to chris rock's farce non-sequitur pootie tang. anyway, these 7th-thru-12th-grade films depict an exclusive subculture that i should be acquainted with, given that i took 6 years and waded through it's viscous currents, yet somehow emerged into adulthood feeling totally disconnected from.

now that i've given you that disclaimer, the cinema highlight for the night was mean girls starring lindsay lohan. not a disney family movie by far, but it had plenty of unlikely entertaining moments. the noteworthy one that's getting my attention tonight is that piece of the movie where lindsay's character cady who has succeeded in infiltrating a popular clique has well lost her identity within it and been baptized before God, country, and student body as a [female dog]. having spied the guy of her desire, she with perfectly wrought porcelain doll makeup entices him saying:

cady: "hey. i'm having a small get-together at my house tomorrow night... it's just gonna be a few cool people, and you better be one of them, bee-yach."
aaron: "fine, i'll go."
cady: "shut up. i love that shirt on you." [devilish smile]

so this is what passes for juvenile-style seduction today? you must be kidding me. but not quite. oh how i would have given my middle name to get such a crass invitation to a soiree thrown by a member of that hormone-ridden inner circle. it's not lady like. it's not polite or congenial. still, God knows that's the same devilish smile plastered across a pretty type face on a hot type girl with a stank type attitude that learned me how to be a professional doorstop at the age of 12.

she was conceited, elitist, moody, foul-mouthed, and abusive, and i was so in love with her, she could do no wrong. the day i met her, she made her entrance down the hallway cussin', fussin', and beating dudes off her with a hard-back binder full of loose-leaf paper. she'd just moved to the neighborhood and was starting the school year late. taken by surprise, she drew back to swat me too as i tried to open the door for her. i was like "hey! i'm tryin' to help you here! why are you being such a [female dog reference again]?" she took me aback right back when she paused, apologized, and uncovered her sweet, sly, irradiant smile before me.

she was the quintessential "rose who grew from the concrete" to me, painted in the most beautiful shade of brown God ever mixed on a palette. about 5'7", maybe 5'6", fastidious and sassy stylish. shapely, but not frail. and get this. she had a unibrow. they connected ya'll. yup, she had the little whispies skippin' right across her forehead. didn't matter to me none. she coulda asked me to move her bangs and kiss her where the separation was supposed to be. i'da jumped to it like aretha franklin.

"Oh, how I wish I could hold her hand and give her a hug
She was married to the man, he was a thug
His name was Lee, he drove a Z
He'd pick her up from school promptly at three o'clock
I was on her jock, yes indeedy
I wrote graffiti on the bus
First I'd write her name then carve a plus
With my name last, on the looking glass
I seen her yesterday but still I had to let her pass"
- The Pharcyde, "Passin' Me By"

alas though, she wanted nothing to do with me. i tried being nice, i tried dressing different, i tried being a full out sycophant. still nothing. for years nothing. i got the most response out of picking fights with her over whatever i could find. i loved it. it didn't matter if she was cursing at me on a crowded playground. i was just happy to be in her presence. eventually though, i tired of chasing her to no avail and let go of the active pursuit. found out later, she only likes thugs and bad boys, a set to which i shall never belong. no, not even for her, which should tell you how much i disregard that kind of life. through the odd circumstances life brings about, we actually became very good friends not much later and have remained so over the years. i still dote on her quietly and whenever we get together and catch up on things, i still wag my tail like a terrier at breakfast time.

but wait! there's more! among the other flicks i rented, i recently watched deliver us from eva starring gabrielle union. now, gabrielle's married in real life, which so blows the fantasy for me, but i'm now a die hard fan after watching this movie. anyone who's seen it knows it's a thinly-veiled take-off of shakespeare's the taming of the shrew. her character eva has everything a man could not want. she's a caustic, meddling, aristocratic, cantankerous, staunch misandrist and master of vituperation. translation? she mean as hell.

but my God she's so stunningly beautiful that you can't ignore it. her image stays in your mind like tomato stains on tupperware. you can purge and cleanse, but it won't ever fully go away. you can't ignore that she's winningly smart having earned her keep as a trouncer of life's adversities. she soils your pride, but engages everything else within you to move strongly. she's irrepressible, impregnable, impeccable, and thereby... absolutely irresistable. you want to hate her, you know you do! but then, she curls one corner of her lips and tells you not to. so you don't. how does she do it? that has got to be one of those things from the set of tricks my mother and sister warned me that every woman is inherently built and equipped with. see, this is partially why i'm so distrustful of women, i so know that one of them has the perfect arrow for my achille's heel and will mess me the heck up if i just give her a chance, but wait wait wait. whoa. brake. i've become overstimulated and thus, i digress.

(*having collected*) ok! back to the matter. the highlight of the film for me was in the oddest place. after the love scene in the movie (which was pleasantly tame for an R rated film), she is, i suppose, basking in the afterglow and while speaking she gives this squinty smile and for a second and a half looks just like my girl! it took me all the way back, man. i almost fell out of my chair. so it's only fitting that i refer to the real girl from back in '92 as "my eva" from now on. 'cause, wow... anyway...

so i'm thinking what is it with me? am i the male equivalent of those women who tragically can't stand to be with dudes who know how to treat them well? am i looking for the female equivalent of the ne'er-do-well bad boy thug prototype that i bashed on not too many paragraphs ago? could it be that i really want me an "eva"? ulgh. i don't know. i know i'm a control freak, so i'm so not for being ran over and run down by any woman, but i maybe possibly... eh.

my real life eva was an aberration. i had never met one like her before and haven't met one like her since. it's probably best that she never gave me much more than the time of day in the context of a platonic conversation. that girl might have turned me out and all but obliterated my destiny as an active seeker of righteousness. i highly doubt that i would have have stopped her if it was to be. control freak proclivity would have gotten heaved over one shoulder. this girl had powers. somekinda somethin' different for real. she remains the only girl in history who i would have allowed to treat me that bad... and me like it.

*sigh* i think i have a pattern going here. if you remember that character maxine on living single, i found her comparably exciting and sadly enough, i had more than a couple characteristics in common with her stuffy stock broker love interest kyle barker. i assess from my years of avid watching that the crux of their attraction was this. though they initially hated each other, above that first off-putting, they found that their curiously strong personalities challenged one-another in a productive way. as opposed to running each other into the ground, they fused together enough energy to mutually propel and fortify each other.

look now people, i'm being transparent, but don't get it twisted. i still can't have nobody just comin' through tryna run me, you know? seriously though. it would be a shame before God if some heifer none-too-bright were to find this blog, get misinformed, happen upon me in a public place and start giving me orders. hypothetically though... think about it. the repercussions could be cataclysmic. i mean, i might just start slapping her and i might not be able to stop. you know how them fingers spread out and that right hand get to twitchin' ike-style. (i'm kiddin' about the hand... but not about the heifer.)

anyway, as far as the real eva, i never got my wish of being caught up into the tempestuous currents that her short-burst romances often were (i viewed many of them from a distance). though i'm glad we turned out to be friends, i wish i knew what exactly made me grip her with my heart and not let go regardless of how it burned. i think if i maybe i can duplicate that with someone expedient and more fit to run a family with, my marriage will be indestructable. people are living way longer these days and endurance is key. really ya'll. look at ossie davis and ruby dee. look at mom and pop winans. look at bobby and whitney. ok, wait. nevermind. look at something else.

and now that i have your attention...

2005-01-14T03:26:00.000-08:00

wow. 8 months have passed and i do believe i have an answer to my question: people are listening. it has come to my attention that a number of people have actually been reading my blog who have no prior knowledge of me. i find this more than fascinating. thank you all so much. so now that i have your attention, God help me, i don't know what to do with it. i got a flood of great feedback from people who knew people who knew other people who all told each other to come visit me. so i wanted to put my best foot forward and write swell, write witty, write sweet, write grand for the crowd. grand i tell you! and then these first couple weeks of january came about and thwarted all my daggone plans.

i mean, i was all hopeful and sheened up at the dawning of the new year and in about a weeks time, my blisskissed natural high dropped off into a subtle slump of discomfort and indifference. i wasn't depressed, but i was far from the bushy tailed remix of myself that i had become comfortable with and endeared to over the last 2½ months. i was all set to deliver my own dockamat'nloofakangjunja oration about all the dreams i have and how this is gonna be my year and how all i had to do was focus on what i wanted and it was only matter of time before it was in my grasp. o, but alas and alack, someone left my cake out in the rain, all the sweet green icing flowing down, et cetera.

"we're all lookin' for brighter days
for the rain clouds to roll away
someone told me that when you seek you will find
well i'm still searchin' for brighter days
though the gray skies really wanna stay
i know that one day i'm gonna see sunshine..."
- lauren evans, "brighter days"

my world has not been rocked in any sort of violent way, but it was enough to make me a bit nauseated in spirit for a week. a lot of fast and swift changes whizzed in like the gusts of air one might feel on an island between heavily trafficked main streets. quick little one-two punches. all swings, but thankfully all misses.

i found out that one of my best friends decided to move to texas without really giving me any presage... just up and gone, no phone number or address. i could feel slighted, but given his freewheeling nature, i have confidence that he'll pop up again (like he has each time before). hopefully it won't take a year's time this go 'round.

my mother didn't get a chance to tell me first before a third party let me know that some guy virtually anonymous to me is courting her from out of state and is intent on marrying her. i've been put on the phone with the mister once during christmas, but i was told he was just a friend. my mother is mulling it over. they're both God-fearing divorcees well over 40, so i don't feel the need to intervene and counsel them. it's exciting and scary, so i'mma pray and let the grownup-grownups take care of it. my plate's full anyway. ;-)

my pastor's pregnant. doesn't affect me directly, but she's in that stage where throwing up has become a perpetual pasttime. makes it hard to preach, so we're duly warned that if she runs out of the room midservice, that's why. i feel like i should be doing something to curb it even though she's got the most loving supportive husband a gal could ask for. he and others are stepping up their already handsome efforts in taking up the slack.

another of my best friends is in the midst of marital difficulty that finds them currently separated and abruptly. having not treated a heart-jarred hubby in my rescue unit before, i don't know what i can do for my boy, but pray. and i'm not quite sure how to do that well. so now i've gotta pray about that too.

an almost friend of the family, my roommate's beautifully spry 17-year-old cat claire had to be put to sleep. claire was a sweetie. she looked like a young kitten but for little whispy grey hairs that appeared here and there in her black coat. although tests from the vet came back reporting some of her vitals as comparable to that of a 3-year-old cat, she had developed cancer and her liver was shot. most likely from the steroid-based thyroid medication we had to give her twice a day with her food to keep her appetite up. it was kinda sad for me, 'cause i sort of grew to like her myself over the nearly 3 years i've lived here. i'm okay, but i suspect my roommate will be a grief-stricken basket-case for an indeterminate amount of time.

again, none of this directly affects me, but it's disheartening stuff, people. i went through a rather trying 10-day period of moneylessness that actually forged me to the point of getting groceries from my pastors' house when i ran out of turkey pot pie. look, ya'll. you know you on hard times when you get all the way down to eatin' the emergency pot pies you forgot were even way in the back of the freezer. it rained incessantly and the temperature hovered around 40 degrees most of the time.

"sunny days, keepin' the clouds away
i think we're coming to a clearing in the brighter day
so far away, still i think they say
the wait will make the heart grow stronger
or fonder, i can't quite remember anyway...

so if you're waitin' for love
well it's a promise i'll keep
if you don't mind believing that it changes everything
the time will never matter."
- jars of clay, "sunny days"

still, discomfort notwithstanding, God is merciful. while one best friend exited unceremoniously, another that had been exiled to grad school has come back quietly with a degree in hand and is available to hang out a few times a week. enough money came in to take care of 2 months of overdue car payments, another week of gasoline and groceries bought with my own end. things aren't quite like i would like them, but they have been worse and never have the strength to stay that way. in fact, i'm feeling better already. the sun broke through right before the weekend and everybody in los angeles got a precious opportunity to breathe clean air for awhile before the smog had a chance to roll back into place. so, i'm alright. look at me bloggin'! see? yeah, that's nice.