please excuse my pleonasm. someone informed me that you needed to pay now to use dictionary dot com. thank goodness they were wrong. dictionary dot com is still alive and well and most importantly, free. i had a ten minute conversation with some girls about the all encompassing good that is dictionary dot com. it was a fun conversation if only because it wasn't normal getting to know you fare.



i've found that the post conversation wrap up is generally more interesting than the actual conversation. like when you are trying to explain to somebody what you were talking to somebody else about, the recap often sounds more exciting than the conversation actually was. what did you talk about? "oh, we compared the similarities between chinese schools in houston versus those in san diego." or "we shifted from paramilitary tactics to gorillas in space, with a detour at 'the sociological effects of rum on reproduction' " but sometimes when you're actually engaged in the conversation it's just a jumble of who gets to say the next line first. rarely am i able to meet strangers or party acquaintances without having some sort of cue card in mind. i wonder if this makes me seem distracted. being a social talker is definitely a skill that can be turned on and off. or absent altogether. isn't it fun when you can see your social opponent struggling for something to say? or are both people so wrapped up in thinking about what to say that the conversation manages a sort of halting rhythm?



the worst is when you are stuck with somebody boring. i think people should come ready and prepared with a list to hand out about the most interesting aspects of their life/personality/thoughts. that way we can cut straight to the chase. we could meet and say "hi i'm jon, hi i'm bonnie," take a minute to look over our cheat sheets and then proceed to find things that are mutually interesting. "oh, you were once in north dakota? how grand, tell me all about it." and should you happen to be both mutually bored then you could just move on with a disappointed smile and a "oh look, the bathroom opened up." it's a good system.



sometimes when you meet people though, the conversation gains an instantaneous flow, where you don't have to worry about where the conversation is going. i find this happens most often when both people are slightly tipsy or if there is a third person around. this way two people can work in conjunction to play off each other to the amusment of the third person. it helps fill the dead space when you have three people. this positive lightbulb effect has been observed many times. however, as jon g notes, "i'd cringe whenever the point person left the table/area for a potty break and i'd be alone with the 'other' person. "what do i say? ahhhhh?" this point person thing has to be researched some more. nothing is worse than a genial conversation that suddenly collapses into dead air because the point person left. point people should not be allowed to leave the table, ever. hogtie those suckers down.



i think any work talk is inevitably boring. because much like a chess opening, it leads directly to a predictable set of outcomes and potential conflicts. push the e4 pawn and you are in an open position, push the d4 pawn and you are looking at a closed game. go with the "what do you do for work" question and you are screwed into talking about "what did you study, do you like it, what are your plans, do you like your job, is this what you originally saw yourself doing, blah blah blah." even interesting occupations are usually boring. the worst is when you have to feign unknowledge to be able to ask stuff like, "what does a mcdonald's fry cook do?" when clearly the mcdonald's fry cook cooks fries. and then you have to follow the first question with the incredulous, "wow! you get to make the fries? amazing! tell me all about it!" ignorance may be bliss but feigning ignorance is the pits.

in a strange twist of events, i actually work more than i blog now. at least for these past few days. what does it mean? more responsibility? more maturity? more pay? more nap time during lunch? i don't even know. but i do know that the eight to five is slowly sapping my spirit, even as my body starts to mold the chair beneath me. luckily we have little diversions to keep life exciting.



group picture from the bash by the bay. some people were not actually in attendance (or missing from the picture) but through the marvel of modern technology, they are now here in the picture. incredible. you have to wonder about the validity of photgraphs now, which airbrushing photoshopping and all that going on. you can pretty much make people look or do anything. then again, photos were always subjective proof anyway.



the most important thing i learned from the bash from the bay was that my body fat is 9.9%. and that my active percentage is 4.3. this might explain why i have problems floating in pool sized bodies of unsalted water. i'm inclined to think that i'm the evolved state of super efficient homo sapien but others say i need to eat more. instead of following their advice, i think i will stop eating altogether so that with some bone replacement surgery and slight body modifications, i can take wing like a sparrow. people are giving up things for lent, i say, why not give up food?

jokulhlaup. a jokulhlaup is a glacial outburst caused by melt water from a subglacial volcano. so it's kind of like a giant slushy gone bad. less tasty and for more dangerous i'd presume. alternately, jokulhlaup was/is a seriously powerful card in magic: the gathering. with four colorless mana and two red mana, you could "bury all artifacts, creatures, and lands." meaning, everything in sight gets torn the hell up. did i hear discard pile anyone? ok.......no. anyway.



so now when all your earthly possessions are swept away and your world is turned upside down and victory seems out of reach, you can say "dammit, jokulhlaup!" but let me tell you, sometimes a jokulhaup can be used as an offensive weapon, clearing your opponent's valuables while strategically retaining a stash of your own in your hand. this was my favorite magic tactic, the mass destruction cards that would wipe shit clean (armageddon, wrath of god, nevinyrral's disk). pimp game like this led me to many a tournament victory i must say. i was good at magic. damn good.



now why bring you this tale of my past achievements? ego stroke? declaration of coolness? fond memories to be shared? no. the answer is that sometimes, you too can use a jokulhaup here and again, even if you don't play magic. sometimes you gotta clean that shit up. just make sure you're holding enough shit in your hand to win. otherwise you'll turn into one of the pre-pubescent pimply socially inept boys whose asses i kicked day after long summer day. that's right. you'll be a masterclass loser.



magic is not just a game. it's life. and like the game, you gotta masterfully construct your deck and hope for the best. because luck and timing play a little bit in everything. or you could cheat and not really "shuffle." which is not something i was adverse to, cheating. actually no, i would never disrespect the game of magic enough to cheat. that would be wrong. in life though, cheating is okay.



note: the dopest magic card i own(ed?) is an original icy manipulator. someone has my magic cards. speak up now or i will come after your ass with my entire arsenal of potato guns. i'm taking a few months/years off and going pro someday. life goal number three. write that down in permanent ink. accepting sponsors now.

flute lips. i've lived for so long with the idea that i was one of the few young males subjected to the effeminate instrument known as the flute. but then someone searched for flute lips and there i was, only number fourteen. below is the story of a young boy, johnny, who also has flute lips. i read his story and i weep for my the death of my unique flute lips. and apparently, my lips aren't even flute lips since johnny's lips and mine seem to be drastically different in shape and size. me and johnny need to have a flute off apparently to determine who has the real flute lips.



"at southwest junior high school, one of the two junior high schools in the hot springs city school district, every seventh grader had to take a sport, play inner murals, or play in the band. johnny was not an athletically coordinated person, which was fine with him because he really didn't care for sports. so he enrolled in the band class. johnny had no idea how to play a band instrument, but neither did ninety-nine percent of the rest of the class. the first few days were spent trying to figure out who would play what instrument. the band director took one look at johnny and said, "you have flute lips." so he played the flute. i never really knew what flute lips looked like, but after i heard this story, i could agree. johnny had small, thin lips and a wide smile. his lips seemed almost delicate, and i could imagine that any flute player would love to have them.



aunt annie said that johnny could really play the flute well when he tried. he didn't practice very much, but he did go to band camp for two years and was considered a good player. she said that he was never the best, but he was never the worst player, either. johnny probably could have been an excellent flute player if he would have been more interested in it, but since he was forced into the class, it was never his own motivation that brought him to play the flute."

-johnny's flute lips-

are you quirkyalone? a quirkyalone is someone who prefers to wait for the right person to come along rather than dating indiscriminately. he or she has come to appreciate singledom as a natural state, a way to live a fulfilling life. quirkyalones are not anti-love and certainly not anti-sex -- merely anti-dull relationships. they would rather spend time hanging out with friends, people with whom they have a real rapport, than endure a bad date.

-let's say it loud: we're single...and proud-



there's a new buzzword out on the streets. soon it might challenge "metrosexual" as the term of the day. impossible i know. the ubiquitousness of metrosexual is hard to compete with. it has entered our lexicon much like "bootylicious" and "bling bling," at least according to merriam-webster's. when the dictionary is going hip hop you know the end is near.



but the new trendy word is: quirkyalone. i might be a little behind the times because apparently this word has been out for a few months now and there are quirkyalone parties and gatherings already. but it wasn't until lilly showed me a copy of the book that i was introduced to the world of quirkyalone. it's one word, not two. how pretentious is that? kind of like india-period-arie. the book itself isn't as interesting as the idea. but i sort of loath the idea of quirkyalone. mainly because i think half the people in my social demographic will suddenly jump to define themselves as "quirkyalone." an acquaintance conversation will soon go like this, "hum, what do i want in a relationship? well, i'm a quirkyalone so.....blah blah blah." and that will just kill me. because the celebration of singledom was my idea and now that it's a trendy term the fun has been sucked out of it. although maybe i'm more of an advocate for just being alone period. but i quibble.



i'm also jealous that the author will probably make millions of dollars giving inspirational speeches about being quirkyalone. and anyone who isn't in my immediate circle for friends getting rich before me is a target for mass hatred. just so you know. i've decided one of my life goals will be to come up with a trendy term that will sweep the nation for a few months and then careen towards a flaming death on the cover of people magazine or as a quiz in glamour. "take this test to see if you are -insert jon's trendy buzzword-." i don't want my allotted fifteen minutes of fame, just a word to my credit. anyway, read up on quirkyalones if you're interested in the idea. or want to avoid the explanations you'll certainly be forced to listen to. knowledge is power and advance knowledge is that much more powerful. go joe. prepare yourself for quirkyalone because you'll probably start to hear about it everywhere. annoying.



"quirkyalone stands in opposition to saccharine, archaic notions of romantic love. it stands for self-respect, independent spirit, creativity, true love and confidence."

if he's so weird, why's he wearing nikes? during a talk a few weeks ago, victor and i pondered the idea of mainstream versus non-mainstream. i contended that he was more mainstream than most people i knew. he contended that I was more mainstream than he. i objected on the grounds of never seeing myself as mainstream. and not wanting to be mainstream. as if want had anything to do with it.



when the term "mainstream" is used, images of oscar nominated movies and grammys come flooding to my head. hi top forty radio. hello titanic, the top grossing movie of all time. mainstream to me was associated with a large number of things that i detest. mainstream modes of thought, mainstream tastes, mainstream acceptance. to me, mainstream was the battle of the masses versus the cockroaches of the underground.



mainstream asian-american also meant to me a certain thing. doctors, engineers, good grades, filial piety, status based on the accumulation of wealth, saving "face", conservative values....etc. but that could be too asian-american specific to be considered "mainstream." though there is definitely, in my eyes, a mainstream type of asian-american and a non-mainstream version. but it's too tangential to go into here.



but it was pointed out to me that mainstream to him meant "feeling in touch with the majority of people around you." after removing the idea of interests from my definition, i agreed with him that i was more mainstream by comparison. because after all, i feel or can relate to most of the people i meet or are around. i have stories that match theirs, feelings that they can corroborate. i was never an outsider to the point where i felt like i didn't belong. i wasn't ever around people who didn't "get me." with this new definition of mainstream in hand, i proceeded to think.



flash forward to last night. as i watched ghost world for the second time, i tried to imagine myself in enid's world. would i be one of the "extroverted, obnoxious, pseudo-bohemian losers," or would i be like seymour, the "exact opposite of everything (she) completely hate(s)." the answer is clearly that i'm a pseudo-bohemian loser because i not only am i pseudo but i'm also a loser, plus i relate with 99% of humanity -- or at least 60%.



i've never felt alienated enough to feel like an outsider. different maybe, but never alienated. if anything, i get along with just about everybody, even if it's against my will. and don't you need to feel some sort of alienation to reach the level of rejectionist reality that is ghost world? when people look at me (literally and metaphorically) in a crowd, i'm hardly the enid. aren't all of my tastes and ideas a function of a generality that may not be purely mainstream but so closely aligned that it isn't that far away from it either?



don't i embrace mainstream pop culture and ways of thought just as much as i rail against it? the answers to all these questions is: yes. yes i do. so now i'm coming to terms with my mainstream-ness. i am beau-ti-ful. i want it that way. show me the meaning of being lonely. god must have spent a little more time on me. hit me baby one more time.

conjunction injunction, what's your fucktion? i heard on the radio the other day that the comparison between gay marriage rights and civil rights was insulting to some. i'm not well read enough on the subject to have any solid opinion but my first reaction was "what the fuck?!?" apparently coretta scott king (martin luther's widow) caused an uproar in the black community by putting the doctor's name behind homosexual organizations. "the comparison between the two movements and the rights associated with them can be misleading....homosexuality is behavior. it's not something you're born with," said the director for a group of conservative black leaders.

(counterpoint) "there's a growing body of evidence to indicate that there's a biological basis for homosexuality. gay people are not defined by what they do, they're defined by who they are," said david smith, a spokesman for the human rights campaign, a national homosexual advocacy group.



if homosexual groups can convince people that homosexuality is innate - like race and ethnicity - they stand a better chance of gaining recognition as a protected minority class under federal law, analysts said. this would lead, among other things, to the lifting of the military's ban on service by open homosexuals and the legal recognition of same-sex marriages.



as homosexual advocacy groups increasingly model their push for greater acceptance on the rhetoric and tactics of the civil rights movement of the 1960s, some black groups are beginning to take exception.

is this what it's boiling down to? whether or not being homosexual is biological or not? it seems like that's the big issue to me. like if being homosexual were natural and biological, people would be forced to accept it and deal with it. but if it's a social and mental construct -- and thus a lifestyle choice -- then people can be discriminated based upon their "choice." even if homosexualism (is that even a word?) is a choice, is that any reason to bar homosexuals from enjoying all the rights that are afforded heterosexuals? isn't choosing a particular religion a choice? is it okay to discriminate against people with religion because it's not a biological choice? are you going to discriminate against me because i choose to worship hello kitty?



all men are created equal. that is the underlying standard of our nation, if not our world. if african americans or asian americans were found to be fundamentally biologically different, would the civil rights movement suddenly lose meaning and purpose? "oh, you're right, we are biologically inferior, enslave us." this argument can be used in the defense of any living thing. preserve the environment. save the rainforest. rescue endangered species. increase the peace.



the recent brouhaha with the whole san francisco gay marriage thing is great i think. a city illegally marrying people because it's right and not because it's legal. and all the conservative groups from every spectrum of the rainbow, turning out to protest and to file injuctions and motions to deny. deny deny deny. the sanctity of marriage is being challenged! help me help you!



did you know that californians -- on march 7, 2000 -- elected to approve a ballot measure that allows the state to only recognize unions between a man and a woman? and that "in 1996, the federal government passed the defense of marriage act, which defines a marriage as a union between a man and a woman. it also permits states to deny recognizing a same-sex marriage in any state. such laws have been passed by thirty seven states."



of course california has a domestic partnership registry and twenty nine municipalities offer domestic partnership benefits so it's not all bad. but domestic partnership and civic unions aren't the same as getting the right to be married. freedom of speech. freedom to carry arms. freedom to do whatever the hell you want in the bedroom with whomever you want (excluding small children, family members, and maybe sheep).



california is headed to better places. the world is headed to better places. if we can get over this "are homosexuals biological or sociological?" who cares? treat everyone the same and give them equal civic rights. as long as they aren't hurting you and infringing upon your rights, who cares what they do?



my great plan for overcoming homophobia is to create a video game that features homosexuals who kick ass. in a game like warcraft you might get asians, blacks, whites, homosexuals, religious folk, middle class folk, whatevers, as your "races". and then in order to win you need to cooperate and use all the races together. this would slowly indoctrinate our next generation -- through the spell binding power of video games -- to love and respect everybody. good idea hunh?



i love hello kitty. rock on.



ps. i'm very curious what my more religiously inclined friends think about this topic. since most of them i hold to be fair minded, open hearted people (until proven otherwise). do they toe the company line or do they have their own opinion on the matter? i will ask you individually so be prepared to give me an answer. i will not accept "i haven't thought about it much" as an answer. if you haven't thought about your stance on social issues in light of your religious faith, you are doing yourself (and our eventual conversation) a great disservice.

never, we're too clever to be taken down clown. for real, when this song came out, i thought the new kids were saying "gangs, gangs, gangs." it was only later did i realize that the thought of five boy band members making a song about gangs was ridiculous. once again, i feel like my fob-dom disadvantaged me.



i'm reading the book version of "a beautiful mind" and it's quite excellent. after the movie version with the bodacious jennifer connelly and the less bodacious russell crowe, john forbes nash jr was thrust once again into the popular conscience. the movie was good but the book is incredible. it surveys the life of nash and how he went from a genius at princeton, to a schizophrenic mess, to a nobel prize winner. the book is largely biographical and concentrates more on nash's life but it does go into some basic depth about what nash was doing in his genius days.



the way the book is written, it seems like nash just got these flashes of insight that led to his groundbreaking mathematical ideas. this is not arithmetic or calculus BC, this is serious math stuff. and as i read it, i'm trying to get even a glimpse of what they are talking about. i can't. the beauty of the writing is such that the concepts are explained well and the ideas are basic enough to not take away from the flow of the book. but when you stop to think about what nash and his contemporaries were doing, it's mind boggling.



someone came up with all those economic, engineering, physics, game theory, math rules that we use in our classes. geniuses came up with them in fact. and to read about someone's brain in action at such a high level is at once humbling and exciting. these eccentric crazy men are supremely rational and intelligent on one hand and totally inept (socially) on the other. but from them comes the real progress of civilization. they are breaking down models for how things work. i would like to, for just a few hours, sit down and listen to some genius mathematician explain some concept that he is trying to prove. it's on a level so far over my head that it would be exciting just to get confused.



people say that math is useless past the high school level. or rather, that's what i would say. i mean, how often are you using calculus or even algebra? i can barely recall my multiplication tables anymore. we were sitting in the back of hong's car a few weekends ago, looking through his old calculus book (he uses it to woo women), and we couldn't even do a simple x and y-intercept problem from page thirteen. how sad is that? i'm oft inclined to write off math as useless. but fundamentally it's the only thing that really matters. i need someone really really really smart to explain some shit to me. is there an "abstract mathematics for dummies" book or something?

will you be my valentine?

um, no.



are you sure? i was so hoping not to be alone today. are you sure you won't be my valentine?

it's okay, i don't need a valentine.



but you're so pretty, are you sure you don't want to? just for one day?

god is my valentine. the almight jesus is my valentine.



oh...god. well, jesus is my god but you're my goddess.

i'm not your goddess. and jesus says you should drink less.



jesus said you should be my valentine.

i doubt that.



well maybe next year then.

see you in the afterlife.



i shit you not. this is a true recounting of what i heard as i stood in line at the bank. the smelly boozed up man (wearing auto fail flower print shirt) was trying to pick up the woman behind me (too embarassed to bother looking but she was a young woman). this is a true conversation. and this my friends, is what valentine's has come down to. this has got to be the funniest conversation i have ever overheard. well actually, they were talking through and around me so i guess i was the impartial third party. omniscient and omni-amused. happy valentine's day.

thor's hammer. excaliber. gunghir. wrench, can opener, billy zane in titanic, pliers, buzzsaw, most of the male antagonists in teeny bopper movies. what do these all have in common? they are all tools. yes. tools. some men use tools so it makes sense that some men are tools. but the term "tool" is so broad. it's so easy to call a guy a tool but then to have no real idea what a tool means. but i will break it down for you.



a tool is a guy who is a "total loser." total loser = tool. it kind of rhymes. off rhythmically. a tool is not just any total loser (as there are as many different types of tools as there are stars in the sky, you know what i'm talking about girls), but the type of guy who is wrapped around the whimsy of his lady friend. he knows that he's just struck a pot of gold and he'll do anything to hang onto it. he's not cool, he's not interesting, the only thing significant about him is his status as boyfriend of so and so. tools are not exclusive to relationships but it is more common to find them under construction. all other total losers are just tools waiting to be wielded. notice that there is a distinct difference between being whooped and being a tool. cool guys can be whooped, tools are just losers who happen to be whooped. get it got it good.



tools are also very malleable. they are not just the instruments of change but also the object of change. "honey, could you get me some fresh unbottled mountain spring water? could you wear your underwear on your head?" tools are yes men. yes sir, yes ma'am. yes yes yes. tools possess no powers of their own, they exist only to serve. do you get what i'm driving at now? yes you do.



now, look in the mirror. are you a tool? do you know any tools? if so, rat them out, just like how little chinese kids were encouraged to rat out their parents under mao, your job is to rat out tools. go forth and prosper.



special subliminal message to hongshin pan written in uncrackable alphabetic code. if you know what's good for you, i would keep any comments to yourself. don't bring your smart alecky ways up in here. death stands over your shoulder and you still think it's just a woman's caress in your ear. wars have been started over less then careless whispers. just keep that in mind.

auto-fails and decepticons. an auto-fail is something that automatically excludes a person from the potential dating pool. otherwise know as the "don't try it buddy, you're already a goner" list. everybody has a list of their auto-fails. and if you don't you should probably start being more selective. the fewer the auto-fails, the sluttier the ho. as wise man confucius once said. luckily, all the girls we know seem to have more than their share of auto-fails. as evidenced by the prime time special report done by gene. i could say more but i think gene and lilly say it all.



let's talk about fail-safes. what does it mean and what are those? reports from the front lines of sushi deli 2 will be filed. hold onto your panties.



in other dating news. this article might just put my life into perspective. but in a good way. how to date and blog. anachronic: now accepting all applications. let's get crazy.

all women are feminists and all feminist evidence is anecdotal. ask them a question and they will tell you a little story. ask them a question to clarify what you infer is the point of the story and they will tell you another story. when they do attempt to draw a conclusion or a larger inference from an anecdote they will often ask, "does that make any sense?" and the answer, of course is (almost invariably) no, it doesn't make any sense. and since i wasn't trying to get any of them into bed, i would say so (if you're trying to get them into bed, you always say "yes, that makes perfect sense" or manufacture some sensible interpretation that has nothing to do with what they said). telling them that they don't make sense, i found, is like telling them that not only do they not win the trip to hawaii, they don't even get the samsonite luggage. they become forlorn and uncommunicative. that was when i realized that it was impossible to engage them on an intellectual, reasoning, "writerly" level - that is in a purely matter-of-fact fashion. i had to act, had to portray myself as being happy, sympathetic, interested and cheerful in order to maintain a level of...



...i don't know what you would call it. it wasn't communication in any meaningful sense of the term as i understand it. it was a kind of "emotional badminton." i acted happy, sympathetic, interested and cheerful and then it was her turn to act happy, sympathetic, interested and cheerful and then it was my turn, etc. she might accidentally say something interesting where i could, with sincerity, say that i found what she had just said interesting. this temporarily escalated the level of her cheerfulness but, alas, that is all that it did: whatever was being said ranking a very distant second to maintaining and escalating the level of cheerfulness. a very, very distant second.

-dave sim, tangents-

a room for squares. a person's room is a reflection of them. that's the way i like to think about it. but it's important to make sure of a few things before examining somebody's room. first, it cannot be a room that they are staying at temporarily because that would usually mean they aren't decorating it to their exact liking. one cannot be judged on temporary room decorations. one can be judged on temporary dating selections however. it's a weird standard, i know. there is much that can be done with basic decorating materials and items but in general, what can you tell about a person who has all of their possessions in various states of unpack? nothing. so don't think a temporary room is as revealing as a real room.



it's also important to make sure that you are not looking at somebody's room from their childhood. while this is a great treasure trove of amusing pictures and pink knitted items from grandma, it is by no means a reflection of who they are today. old soccer pictures and "dunce of fifth grade" certificates are fun to look at though. but when you want to get down to the nitty gritty, you gotta look at somebody's room that they own now, and look at the space that they've decorated with their adult minds.



so what do i look at first? you have to go with messy versus organized. a messy room is indicative of a messy life. actually, that is totally untrue but it sounds logical doesn't it? it's just good to know whether a person is a hurricane or a light breeze. and you can't properly determine how organized or messy somebody is until you've dropped in unannounced; with no time for them to pick up piles of crap and to stick stuff into the closet. much like an anthropologist, one must observe the subject in its natural state. i usually fail this test since my room is a combination storage locker and surrealist painting. my five minute attempts at cleaning it before a guest arrives fail miserably. all my "i'm organized" posturing goes out the window once someone sees my room mid-week.



after checking out the messy or un-messy state of a room, notice the vibe. is there a certain scent in the air (aside from dirty laundry or uncontrollable odors)? is the lighting dim or bright? are the walls pulsating with life or a vacuous slab of despair? is the feng shui good? is the room organized in an efficient manner? where are the windows located and how does the interplay between the furniture affect you? all very key elements in determining vibe.



seriously, girls' rooms smell good. the ones who have all the cremes and lotions and perfumes and all that stuff. guys' rooms are just neutral at best. but the way that a girls' room smells is just heavenly. peach pleasure. ginseng blossom. avocado sublime. junipero serra. all amazing flavors. i'm in full support of the body shoppe. man, if only they had these types of room scents for guys. guys tend to dump vanilla bean, lemon lime, or heaven forbid, cinammon roast flavors into their rooms. as much as i was a fan of the glade plug-in, that period in my life is now over. thankfully. it was especially bad when particularly sensitive girls could identify me, greg, and louis by our scent. "oh! you must live together!" "you smell just like your apartment!" joy.



tangent onto odors. girls who smell good. or have particular scents about them. good move (wo)man. i'm not sure if the shampoo just lingers in that hair or if girls really are made from sugar and spice and everything nice but something is working. but pass on the heavy perfume ladies. it's a black cloud trailing after you. and the only silver lining is my tongue sticking out in disgust. i had a girlfriend once who had everything juniper breeze. to this day when i go into bath & body works that's all i think about...her.



back to rooms. the three most important things to check on in a room? the music collection, the book collection and the fun unique items. not in that particular order either. but i will address them alphabetically just for simplicity. the book collection. if there is no book collection or at least a pile of magazines, we are probably not going very far with this friendship. if there is a book collection, i insist on looking over all the titles and mentally cataloging which ones look the most interesting. i might even say "oh i've always wanted to read this." at which point you should say "oh take it with you!" i will love you forever and a day for that. a book collection is revealing because it tells you about what sorts of things that somebody is entertaining themselves with and what obscure subjects they might be interested in. the book channel should have a "room raiders" show ala mtv but with books. i could definitely pick who i'd prefer to date based solely on a book collection. i know, i'm shallow.



i feel much the same way about the music collection. although i find that these days, the music collection is less a collection and more of a CD book or a MP3 list. we really lost something when we achieved portability with our CDs and MP3s. it's fun to physically root through a pile of CDs and to tilt your head reading the titles of each one. plus exploring new cover art is always fun. it's also a nice gesture to offer to burn me a copy of what i like. or to write it down and compile a list of my "oh is this any good?" queries and then mail all the burned copies to me along with big cookies and a milkshake. white chocolate cookies and vanilla milkshake. thanks.



however, i have found that a music collection is not quite as revealing as a book collection. most people have the generic blend of pop, hip hop, alternative, eighties, old school, jazz, beatles, etc collections. still, it's always good to see a classic album in there that tells you "this person really appreciates this stuff." for example, seeing a tribe album nestled among the hip hop section is not uncommon but it's always heartwarming when it happens. affirms my belief that i like this person. these days, with my limited knowledge of music, i find that i am more often lost in the diaspora of music represented before me, as opposed to being able to use my narrow tastes to categorize others. there are just too many artists and genres i am not familiar with. it's tragic. anyway, the music collection is interesting but not necessarily super important unless it somehow magically resembles my music collection. in which case i'll demand that we become instant friends. i'm easy too.



(btw, can i just say that i found hong's old CD collection in the garage and the top three CDs i picked up were celine dion albums. whut?!? as if we couldn't guess. this does explain so much though. the admiration for armageddon, the shaving of the legs, the use of ladies' deoderant, an affinity for melodrama, the willingness to bend over...)



onto fun unique items. which ruins my alphabetical plan but oh well. nobody ever won by following the rules. fun unique items are a broad category. anything that is interesting in a room falls into this category. i like to ask about everything in the room. sometimes i go so far as to touch something or to pick something up. slap my hands if i'm touching your favorite item or something. cultural artifacts or religious artifacts are high on my list of interesting items. crystal menageries and life sized frog candles are not. banners are also tacky. support your favorite team or alma mater another way, don't do it on your wall. please. personal artwork is always very interesting. poster selection is revealing also. pictures are a personal touch that allows for much use of the phrase "who's this?"



a room that is dense with fun unique items that can keep my attention for hours is a huge plus. it also tends to spark conversation. if your room is interesting, you are interesting. that is what i believe. this is getting long. i could launch into so many more room observations but then you'll think i'm weird. and i wouldn't want you to think that i'm weird since the opinions of others affect me on so much.

you got served. twenty five thousand dollar pyramid: i'm just like a guy. i used to be a tomboy. i'm afraid i'm turning into my mother. i think i'm lesbian. people tell me i think too much. i overanalyze, why can't i just let it all go and have fun? i'm thinking about becoming a nun. i really loved it when shaq scored that touchdown. i'm never getting married. answer: things girls say around guys that are probably true but also used way too often. ding ding ding. big winner!



we (not the royal we but an ambigous ghost faced we) have noticed that sometimes when girls kick it with guys, they say things that are eerily similar to things that most girls say in all guy dominated situations. try this one. "i like hanging out with guys better because they are less catty." this is very very true but it's the stock answer of choice. just once i would like to hear "i like to hang out with guys because girls hate me." if only for the novelty of it. now, i am no way doubting that some girls are this cool. in fact, i love girls who say and are these things.



but the question is, is it possible that girls are just saying this because that's what guys want to hear? it's easier to "accept" a girl if you know that she's more guy-ish? so that girls are subconsciously or consciously saying such things in order to garner favor? i understand it's perfectly normal and universal for a girl to fear turning into their mother (the greatest of all fears) or that they think they think too much. but i mean, do any girls say "i don't think." even the unintelligent unthinking girls say "i think too much." i use the term "unintelligent" very loosely, not as a description but more as a personal opinion and scale of judgement.



not to think that only girls are like this. guys have the same types of stock statements to "get in with girls." i'm just less familiar with them because i hear the girls' ones more often. or i use all the guy ones and don't want to admit culpability. stuff like "i'm romantic" is sure to get the roomful of girls on your side. that's a tip gentlemen. try to lead with the sappy story about your perfect prom or something. that's always good for a hearty round of quiet applause.



so anyway. the point is that we noticed that girls who want to be down with boys, tend to use the same types of lines. or even just lines that come from girls that seem to be exactly that, lines for leading conversations and questions. "oh you think you'll be a nun? that's terribly original. can i ask why?" i'm not disputing that any of these lines aren't true, but there is a trend to be tracked here. i'm now on the lookout for lines like these. so share if you got any.



disclaimer: these observations, reflections, and ultimately, generalizations, were culled from a large population of girls. it is not meant as a desciption of any one or two individuals. if you happen to say all these things, and my comments seem strikingly applicable towards you(s), it is only happy coincidence. then again, it is entirely possible that i am talking about you(s), in a roundabout underhanded manner because i don't have the balls to say your name(s) in public. but the latter option would make me a weak willed willy with shit for a spine. you decide.

masticate. even if it's done alone, it's still good for you. i'm a big eater. not literally, although i have been known to surprise. despite my inferior size, my buffet eating skills would astound you. man mountains have crumbled before the fury of my snail paced eating habits. much like the ever clever parable of the tortoise and the hare, at the end of the buffet line, i simply win. now, why do i eat so slow? there are a number of factors. for one, i tend to talk when i'm eating. if there's a decent conversation going on, i like to engage in it. for two, i like to eat things that come in different colors, tastes, and textures. all at the same time. beer before liquor will make you sicker but dessert before dinner will make you a winner. that was a terrible rhyme. apologies. this taste test method of eating is slower than just concentrating on one item to the exclusion of all others. diversity is slower than bigotry you know? i have no idea what that means. anyway.



i am also a slow chewer. you are supposed to chew your food like twenty times before swallowing. i think i definitely do that. we are not four stomached bovines, we need to chew homo saps. munch munch. many of my more anxious peers just bite and swallow. no foreplay at all. everything is quick quick quick. take your time guys, enjoy the taste of what you're eating. she'll love you more for it afterwards. what am i talking about? right. food is not just for stuffing your face with, it's a treat to eat. this rhyming thing is not going away.



aside from the talking and the chewing, there is something even more fundamental that explains my slow eating habits. namely, i try to keep clean. egads! keep clean while eating? incroyable. incredible. improbable. inconceivable. insurmountable. insurrectious. insanelyfectious. inserthere. interesting. let me tell you why i like to keep clean while eating -- as if the advantages of this simple habit wasn't clear to you already. the number one goal of eating is to not gross out the people around you. if you have nobody else around you (haha, loser), you can eat how you please. i will neither comment nor complain. after all, even i have been known to put too much into my mouth at times. but only when i'm positive that no conversations or wandering eyes will be coming my way. i'm a closet big biter. there, i've said it.



but when in public and in most social situations, it's very important to keep clean while eating. i find it very necessary to use the lap napkin. look! a perky perfect square for wiping your filthy hands with! also doubles as an ideal crotch protector to prevent embarrassing bits of food from clinging to your...crotch. but one napkin will not do the trick. one hooker might, but one napkin will not. you need at least two napkins. why an extra napkin you ask? the extra's for wiping your mouth with silly. after each bite, or maybe two if you're daring, wipe your mouth. give it a good once over. not too much because you'll be back there again. after all, don't want any chapping or chafing do we? remember to position the napkin so that any food bits caught in the "face napkin" will not drop out of your control after you wipe. a haphazard wipe could result in flocks of food flying through the air and coming to rest on your neighbor. the horror. by using a careful mouth wiping technique, you can be assured that no unsightly things will remain on your face. except for, of course, your face.



the worst kind of food "crustys" or "smears" is chocolate. something about the unkempt sight of a chocolate stain on the corner of somebody's lips just makes me go crazy. i just want to reach right over and punch that chocolate off. gently of course. as if i could punch any other way.



another key aspect of eating and looking clean is to take small bites. this should be obvious. the more controlled the bite, the more controlled the nuclear fallout. no giant bites followed by an avalanche of unchewed food dropping to the plate. just bite what you can chew and be patient. nobody likes to see a giant ball of food being saliva-ed in front of them. the chipmunk cheek action is not cool. take smaller bites. the food is not going anywhere. we transitioned away from a hunting/gathering society for a reason. all bets are off if there is a limited amount of food though. if survival is on the line, stuff your face, stuff your pockets, and swallow without chewing. oh, huge point. close your mouth while chewing. i don't even have to get into this one. or do i? let's hope not. and never ever chew and talk at the same time. in some countries that'll get you shot. sadly one of those countries is not the united states.



there are many more advanced "moves" and strategies that i could share with you concerning clean eating habits. but i feel like i lost you somewhere between the mcdonalds and the red light district. you are probably scurrying off trying to find some food of your very own to practice my handy tips. so before you go, remember to chew swallow spit. and always always wash your hands after you eat. and try not to leave any evidence of your dirty deeds on your chin or elsewhere. that's just disgusting.



and i prefer it when people tell me when i have food in my teeth or on my face. this happens to me probably less than the uncommon leap year but it's been known to happen. so feel free to tell me to wipe. i'll do the same for you. deal?

...by the time they hit fourth grade, they got the discovery channel don't they? the moral right is going crazy. is anybody else worried about the conservatives taking over the world? not that they ever really relinquished control i guess. i think i may be a political conservative but i'm not sure. but i know that i'm not in no tizzy over a bared breast. i've avoided making commentary on any janet related shenanigans but now it's gone too far. ms rhythm nation is being pulled off the grammys. say it ain't so joe! meanwhile, justin timberlake is apologetic about the wardrobe malfunction even though he's clearly lying -- plus he hasn't apologized for slapping janet's ass repeatedly, a much bigger transgression in my opinion. cbs is scrambling to come up with the technology for a tape delay system. the ripple effect has even touched justin's bandmate, jc chasez. in a take down by mere association move, chasez of "i'm one of the four guys behind justin" fame, is being pulled from the pro bowl halftime show. his lyrics are too suggestive and it is thought that he might bare his own left breast in order to one up justin's antics. it is reported that chasez turned down the grammys to perform at the pro bowl. which proves that his manager is dumber than rock and quite possibly an itinerant druggie. who turns down performing at the grammys (broadcast nationwide) to perform at the pro bowl (shown only on cable station espn)? rumors are that a backstreet boy -- does it matter which one? -- will now be performing at the pro bowl with latoya.



in other wordly news. massachusetts has cleared the way for same sex marriages (big week for massachusetts) and is now getting the hammer from bush. he calls the massachusetts ruling "deeply troubling" and vowed to "do what is legally necessary to defend the sanctity of marriage. marriage is defined by bush as: "a sacred institution between a man and a woman." bullshit. this is about to become a huge campaign issue and i feel pretty strongly about it so i may have to take my opinion to the booth.



and finally. a second grade girl was suspended for a day for telling a classmate he would go to hell for saying, "i swear to god." she was suspended for violating the no profanity code. "hell" is a profane word? she was merely stating where she thought her classmate would go after blaspheming her lord and savior. in her eyes, he's going straight to literal hell -- after maybe sixty more years on earthly hell. it's just like if he'd gotten hurt, she could of said "you're going to the hospital." i may not agree that there is a literal hell (i will pay for an overpriced seat license reservation if it ensures me air conditioned box seats though) but due to her faith and religious belief, she believes there is one. and she got suspended for it? she's seven for god gosh sakes. the best part of the story is that it wasn't a teacher who caught her but another student who overheard the word. she was ratted out man. that'll teach her about life.



people are taking this shit too far. the so called "religious right", even if not religious, is making me insane. is this what the majority of america agrees with? a stringent moral code based on no nipples, no gay marriages and no profanity? tell me we're doing it for the kids because i love the way you move your lips and nothing ever comes out.

the hobgoblin of consistency. to revisit emerson for a second. he says that "a foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored by little statesmen and philosophers and divines." (more in depth analysis here) everybody i know tends to think that being a hypocrite is a terrible terrible thing. "how can you say one thing and then do another? you're a hypocrite!" people judge us on our word, our truth, our consistency with our past actions. after all, what else is there to base our trust towards someone? it's reassuring to be able to say that "richard would NEVER lie because he's never lied before." or that "i know bobby tries to treat everybody the same because that's what he's always done." this seems so impressive at first glance doesn't it? someone standing so strong admist a sea of change?



i've always been quite attached to the idea that you do things the same way over and over. like a knight attached to his code, there is never any wavering. "est sularus oth mithas (my word is my honor and my honor is life)" however, as i am weak and unarmored, imitating a knight has been challenging. especially when the code is self created and constantly being broken. and especially when you realize that there are certain parts of yourself that are insanely inconsistent but you are unwilling to change it. every knight eventually goes down with their code, with great honor of course and a fancy burial ceremony, but they go down. so far i have been unable to find the strength to become an honorable person. i have more kinship with the soul of a thief, willing to slip and slide my way into the shadows. my weapons are not the sword and the gauntlet but rather the dagger and misdirection. would you rather go down with a sinking ship or merrily jump to a nearby, albeit altogether different, ship? i think i would probably jump. as loathsome as that may be to some.



but oh how i wish to find consistency. why pursue philosophy if not to find consistency? why pursue randian ideals if not to find objectivism? why pursue anything if all past actions mean nothing? the whole world teaches us that we are judged on what we've done as well as what we are doing. sometimes what we've done is more important than anything we could possibly be doing now. our past is often more important to others than our present. i mean, people have criminal records, resumes, credit histories and diplomas for a reason. you gotta know the background context to understand the present. politicians get nailed for some crap they did twenty years ago. if we were all judged as microscopically, none of us would make it through unscathed.



and now i'm reading that perhaps inconsistency is overrated. do i believe this? can i believe this? it would invalidate a lot of the things that i've learned through the years. "speak what you think now in hard words, and to-morrow speak what to-morrow thinks in hard words again, though it contradict every thing you said to-day." do i really want to be a contradictory person? the answer is: hell yeah.



i am deciding to no longer be concerned with consistency (although it's questionable how consistent i might have been before). i care not that my actions seem random and hypocritical. i will embrace my hypocritical self and hope that others do too. after all, why set restrictions on yourself, become chained to your thoughts, when there is so much more life to live? i've always been a boxer man? i may try briefs. i've always had a healthy fear of commitment? i will attempt commitment. i've always hated eggplant? i will eat tear one apart. raw. i have always been polite and genteel? i will be rude and belch. well, maybe not belch. i'm not sure i can belch. in short, i will become someone that i totally detest. but given some time, i think i will come to terms with it. only self hate can lead to self love. for what is love but the repudiation of hate? i have no idea what that means. it just sounds ambitious. but now that i've said it i'll try to make some sense out of it. is love the repudiation of hate? hum....



i think my new year's resolution is set, one month late. "the voyage of the best ship is a zig zag line of a hundred tacks." i will zig zag with the best of them. and when i get dizzy i will puke and then zig zag again. so while it may seem like i'm running in circles and yakking up shit. i will really be zig zagging and spewing forth things of a consistent nature.



that's what i'm thinking today anyway.

“the word boredom did not enter the language until the eighteenth century. no one knows its etymology. one guess is that bore may derive from the french verb bourrer, to stuff. question: why was there no such word before the eighteenth century? . . . (f) is it because the self first had the means of understanding itself through myth, albeit incorrectly; later understood itself through religion as a creature of god; and now has the means of understanding the cosmos through positive science but not itself because the self cannot be grasped by positive science, and that therefore the self can perceive itself only as a ghost in a machine? how else can a ghost feel otherwise toward a machine than bored?”

-walker percy, lost in the cosmos-

i'm a stalker baby. why don't you ip locate me. i'll admit it. i'm a stalker. not physically (i know popular conception suggests otherwise). just on the internet. in the big scheme of things, it's not so bad. everybody does it. admit to it. you stalk people. you've googled people to see if they could be found. yeah, i've probably googled you. incredible the things you can find out about people online. assuming they have a semi-original name. funny how stalking on the internet is totally socially accepted. but stalking in real life is a big no-no. actually, in real life, the fine line between chasing and stalking is really just a matter of the interest from the stalkee's perspective. does this definition apply for stalking cases online? are you only a stalker if the stalkee doesn't want you to be looking? because if you did want somebody to read you, wouldn't you refer to them as readers?



regardless of the name, i am addressing all stalkers, me included. by the way, never self address yourself in public, you'll look stupid. anyway my stalker brethren, what do we get out of stalking? are our lives that much better for it? flipping through page after page of scribble. getting all excited because "oh look, there's a picture!" you can read a normal web site, an informational one, and that is not stalking. that's just getting information or links. but when you read somebody's "journal" you are definitely peeking into their lives a little bit. and what do those peeks tell us?



they can tell us if you're interesting or retarded. at least that's what it tells me. after awhile, if you continue to stalk a particular person, you start to get a sense of them as a person. a very narrow and constricted view but sometimes when that's all you have, you shape their limited words and sentences into entire beings. you know what i'm saying? like i'll read someone and after a given amount of time, feel like i know them.



part of this phenomenon is that you're reading everything all at once. three entries complaining about the price of tomatoes over a week will make it seem like you're obsessive over tomato prices. but this not so. perhaps you are only complaining for those three times but written down in paper form and date stamped and archived, it seems like you've got nothing better to do than complain about tomatoes. sometimes i'm asked how much i'm really thinking about this crap that i throw up. generally the answer is, not that much at all. it comes to me, i blog it, and there it is. it's a little more complicated than that but not much more. in general the more bored i am the more i'm blogging. the more busy or exciting i'm being, less blogging. so really, if it sounds like my life is exciting via blog, it's actually not. crazy but true. most of the things i write about don't come pre-conceived or have much of an after life unless someone brings it up or it happens to fall into conversation and i'm willing to mention it to look stupid. "that's funny, just today i blogged about how the yak is really superior to the cow. what a coincidence!"



actually as much as i like reading other people's journals (who doesn't?), i don't write about personal stuff on this thing. one, it's boring. two, it's boring. three, who cares? a side of me would like to spontaneously write whatever comes to mind, whatever happens is what gets written down. but then you start to really put yourself out there. and that is not really necessary for me. i could write under a pseudonym and create codenames for people but really, that seems counterproductive. i would really like to see what people think of what i think of them or what i'm really thinking when nodding and smiling but i'm not quite there yet as a person. i'll wonder if the "real" thoughts that i'm internalizing is matching up to what i'm exposing externally. but in order to scratch that itch, it would require me to share. and sharing is not caring. despite what michael "jesus juice" jackson might have told you.



but i do like stalking those who share. because it's interesting. and i admire their courage. or i stalk in order to find some good writing or some great ideas. or i just stalk just to look at the pretty pictures. or to settle the million dollar question of "is this person cool?" sometimes you think somebody is so cool but when you actually meet them (a rare occurence) it's hard to into the conversation "so, on february second you mentioned that you had a bad day, what was that about?" there is a barrier between the online world and the real world. shocking but true.



there's also something positive to be said for just keeping the stalkee as a faceless entity. it allows your imagination to run wild about what kind of people they are. without having to deal with actual interaction and perhaps being disappointed that they aren't as interesting as they write. or you just have this overwhelming urge to say to them "ok, pretend you're writing me, go." and that might be insulting. i'd like to imagine that all the people i stalk are wonderful people who would be just as wonderful in real life as they are online. but does that happen? are some people just more interesting online? do they lose points when in flesh form? like their superpower is to become a mighty online presence? are they entirely useless outside of their element? ala aquaman?



reverse stalking. following the breadcrumbs. let's talk about it. below my blog (and many others) there is this nifty contraption called the sitemeter. with it you can get ip addresses of people, where they're coming in from, how they got to you, blah blah blah. it's very 1984-esque. with this simple device you can see how many people are visiting, how long they are staying, how often they are returning, all that neat stuff. with this information, it also allows you to (roughly) determine who is visiting. now, if you keep a careful watch of this traffic sometimes you will wonder "who is this stalking me?" and you will research it and think "hum, who do i know in saskatchewan?" the answers are hardly ever conclusive. but answers rarely are.