our house, in the middle of our street. for quite awhile now, my mom has been planning to move from our temporary home in encinitas back into our old one in del mar. originally, she had moved out of the del mar house because it was too big to live in by herself. but now, after a few years away, nostalgia has worked to pull her back in. not without a good makeover of course. i had heard that my mom was doing a remodeling of the kitchen. as it turns out, the entire house is remodeled.

starting with a fancy new shiny garage floor (a huge improvement over a concrete floored garage) and extending to every light fixture and doorknob, the entire house has been transformed. the previous tenants had already replaced the white carpet of yore, and now the entire house has gone from light wood, flowery furniture, and a bright aura to dark wood, gray flecked marble, and contemporary pieces. it's quite a change. it wasn't until i walked upstairs into the overhanging walkway did i feel at home again -- and only because the view felt the same. it's that different.

but as i explored, the house -- still hiding underneath its new mask -- revealed its familiarities bit by bit. certain doors that always jammed were tough to open. the tool drawer, like always, had to be given a good tug. my closet door still stuck to its rails and slid funny. at these moments, i understood why people always want to go visit their old houses. sure people have been there, sure everything may look different, but in the end, its still your house. and now my mom's moving back in, for good this time.

and i feel like the intervening four years were a dream, like we had never left, and nothing had ever happened. as if all i'd done in the years since moving out was washed away. it's the strangest feeling. i wish i could explain it better. anyway, the house is ready for slumber parties again. or karaoke. two events which traditionally have gone hand in hand. bring your pillows and earplugs, we're ready.

wanna hang out? in my browsings through craigslist i've come upon ads looking for housemates. not roommates but housemates. under the jobs section, there are ads asking for someone who will hang out at the house every day from say, 10pm until 7am. many times, the compensation includes not only a salary, but free rent.

my first thought was, "i can get paid to be someone's friend? awesome." then i was thinking, wait, what kind of person needs to pay other people to be their friends? plus in my world, having money automatically begets friends. anyway, i was wondering why anyone would need such a deal. if they're lonely, aren't dogs cheaper? televisions more versatile? hasn't the internet eliminated the need for real live friends anyway?

i pondered whether or not i could sacrifice my night time hours to hang out with someone whom i might not necessarily have hang out with normally. the answer was a definitive no. i value my night time hours too much, and without an extravagant sum, i couldn't give up hanging out with my free friends. that extravagant sum is certainly flexible and negotiable though.

and what happens when you reach the point when the money has run out but they still want you to hang out? if the money stops, and then you stop being their friend, doesn't that kind of shatter their dream that even though you started off as an employee friend, you grew to become an actual friend? i mean, that's what i would secretly hope if i was paying someone to hang out with me. that at some point, my friendship would be worth more than the money that it's printed on. and that the other party would want to hang out outside the terms of our contract.

some friendships, i find, are similar to this kind of craiglist offer. "i'll hang out with you if..." friendships -- or "compartmentalized friendships." the compensation is usually not (directly) monetary, but we all have friendship contracts with each other. like "i'll hang out with them if they boost my self esteem." or "i'll hang out with them for this activity but nothing else." what's the difference between these sorts of unspoken contracts and the craiglist postings? maybe not all that much.

a real american hero: how else can i say it, i don't speak no other languages. i recently watched a stand up routine by indian comedian russell peters. i can't find out why his last name is "peters," aside from the possibility of a mixed heritage. deep down, i hope the reason for his misleading surname has to do with taking a stage name so that he could break into the entertainment industry. although with his brand of humor, i doubt that's a choice he would have made. maybe he's adopted, who knows.

anyways, peters is hilarious. i'm apparently late to the russell peters bandwagon but arriving late is better than never arriving at all. peters uses an array of accents, impersonations, and under the breath one-liners to explore the world of asian-americans. what's odd here is that to me, indian is not asian (aside from the convenient political grouping) and peters is not american -- he's actually canadian. but whatever, russell peters can still be the litmus test for how asian-americans are encroaching into popular american culture -- or rather, how we aren't.

we're living, right this moment, in the golden era of asian-american comedians. yes, it's true. look at john cho and kal penn, the colored faces of harold and kumar. crapalicious movie, one giant leap (forward) for asian-kind. then recall the winner of the first "last comic standing," dat phan. and of course, still going strong, the grand old dame of asian-american comedy, margaret cho. let's not forget to throw william hung in this category, since he clearly qualifies as asian and comedy, even if it's slightly unintentional. this is it, we are on the verge of an asian-american comedic breakthrough.

or are we?

if i were an asian-american comedian and most of my material focused on re-creating my parents' accents and relating the cultural differences and struggles of my people in a humorous way, i would be thinking to myself, "is this really going to work? can i ever make it big?"

if you're a comedian of color (brown, yellow, black, red, jewish), you're damned if you do, damned if you don't. you may want to avoid the ethnic jokes but chances are, you will need them to get noticed. this is the way it's been. stand up comedians generally mock themselves. and are ethnic comedians going to pass up the comedic goldmine that is their reflection in the mirror? no way. however, by reaching out into your ethnic bag of tricks for a few laughs, you get pigeon-holed into a niche. asian-american comedian. you've heard one small penis joke, you've heard them all. right?

when will america be ready to take asian-americans seriously as "normal" comedians and not just a nice diversity day? the answer is, probably never. i mean, who are the biggest black comedians -- a(very) successful minority comedian group -- out there today? chris rock and dave chappelle. what do they do? make fun of black people. make fun of black people relating to other people. make fun of black people. but they pull in a huge (white) audience.

in an article i read, chappelle hints that he left for his infamous trip to who knows where because he felt like his expanding fan-base was starting to laugh at him, and not with him. he was bothered by the fact that his work was edging possibly toward exploitative vaudeville instead of raucous social commentary. so dave left to find some answers and to reconcile what his comedy was being perceived as versus what he wanted it to be.

i don't think asian-american comedians can even dream of this existential comedic crisis yet. they're still just trying to make people laugh period, whether that's at them, with them, or against them. just make'em laugh, who cares if you have to ching ching chong your way through the act? just do it, break those color barriers. in the end however, what good is having asian-american comedians if they're perceived as nothing more than a novelty act? is the solution to wait until america itself is more "beige" as russell peters calls it? wait until enough people in the audience can relate by sheer similarity of color and experience?

my other question is: are asian accents funny to other people? i mean, if you have no clue what an indian accent is or what peters is referencing in his act, is that funny? i mean, i have no clue what it's like to be (or to be around) a redneck and i don't find jeff foxworthy to be particularly funny. i assume it's because i can't relate. is this the same thing with ethnic humor? then again, i really have no connection to either the black or jewish worlds and i laugh at their brands of comedy. maybe the solution is that once you have enough asian-americans showing the world why asian-americans are funny, we will actually be funny.

long story short. i laugh and revel in asian-american comedy but i wonder where it can go. where is the audience? are asian-american comedians doomed to tour the country performing only for audiences that are tailor-made to enjoy them? comedy isn't about making your people laugh, it's about making everyone laugh. not an easy feat at all.

ulysses. i am starting to think that there lies a great chasm between those who can see the big picture, and those who cannot. and i'm starting to suspect that i'm on the wrong side of that gap. i often think about how difficult it is to say, make a movie -- something that is done most routinely and clearly, by people of all (in)capacities. all of the details, the planning, the foresight, and the vision involved intimidates me. i marvel at how well sportscenter's graphics are displayed and executed. how do they sync up the images and the commentary so well? anything that seems complicated, that i can't immediately get my mind around in five minutes, amazes me.

i once found comfort in the idea that if you look at a finished product, it would be akin to gazing upon the human body as a piece of work -- miraculous, but certainly explainable. i talked myself into thinking that i could understand things if i had seen the work from the beginning. i mean, if i knew about atoms then molecules then cells, the human body could logically emerge from that knowledge. step by step, if i could see the individual parts being constructed, i would get to the whole with a full understanding of how things worked.

however, this is small consolation when looking upon most great works. sometimes i'll read a book, watch a movie, or think about a concept, and my mind is just blown. i can't wrap my little brain around how something got from point a to point b, with no perceivable logic save miracles in-between. to me, it seems as if the great work emerged, like athena from the head of zeus, fully formed and clad in a set of armor. i'm mind boggled.

so it helps to read things that explain how things got from the beginning to the end. and to realize that great works take a million steps from point a to b, even if all you see, and are transfixed by, is the final product. well, it helps until you realize that you don't even know where your personal point a is.

there's a cover charge for the bibliotheque? in a triumphant return to my local library -- after a layoff of about four years -- i was greeted with overdue fees totaling in the double digits, plus another dollar tacked on for "losing" my library card. your earthly sins can eventually be forgiven but not your library fines i guess. after paying off my literary indulgences, i wondered why library cards were even necessary in our modern age. shouldn't all that shit be in the computer? if i give you my driver's license, shouldn't that suffice? i mean, even blockbuster doesn't make you carry a card around anymore. the library system can find out which magazine issues i failed to return four years ago but it can't let me borrow items without making me pay for another card? i smell a rat.

actually, i like having a physical library card. it's nostalgic i guess. mine is shiny blue and totally cooler than yours. library cards have definitely moved up in the design world over the past few years. it occurs to me that maybe library cards are made to be lost. this way, libraries can charge you a small re-card fee in order to fund their projects -- while making you feel like an idiot. which is a small sacrifice for a noble cause i guess. imagine the millions of dollars lost if library cards were to suddenly become a thing of the past.

i wonder if anyone has ever tattooed their library card bar code on themselves. that would seem to be convenient, and quite prudent. well, until you moved i guess. bar code tattoos are stupid. unless you were the among the first dozen people to get them. then you're cool, but you just so happen to resemble stupidity.

i feel like librarians should be tipped, or at least they could put out a change jar near the reading stations. i just made $130 (even after having 8% taken out) from my change jar, and that's just from one person over six months. loose change could probably provide the funding for new schools, classrooms, and healthy lunches for our children. "leave no couch cushion unturned." oh wait, this idea has already been done by those kids who go around your neighborhood collecting pennies in boxes. and i guess, bums know about the financial powers of accumulating coins too.

the other thing i question about the library is this dewey decimal system thing. it's just confusing. and outdated don't you think? nobody learns the dewey decimal system anymore. i hear that some libraries are re-organizing their books to feel more like bookstores. i assume this means they'll do away with the dewey decimal system too. good riddance. if i want to find all of carl sagan's books, it should all right there where i need it. not one in the 600.2s and another in the 530.3s. it's inefficient. or maybe, too efficient to be useful. "down with dewey" either way.

and why did they stop stamping the return dates in your library books? i can't be responsible enough to remember when my items are due unless the return date is attached to each individual item. how old do you think i am? this could actually just be another ploy to make more money. hum. i've suddenly gained new clarity on the way libraries work. free education my ass.

genius for hire. during my vigorous and unmotivated search for a job, i came across a posting for a website writer whose requirements include "an eye for mistakes" and "technical knowledge." their provided reply email address had the wrong format (a www tag in front of the email) and a misspelled word (no "i" in "industries"). i noted both mistakes in my introductory email. were the mistakes intentional and designed to weed out the weak -- and unqualified? if so, brilliant. will i get the job? i should right? since i figured out their little hiring game in a millisecond? someone hire me already, i'm tech savvy with an eye for mistakes. plus i give good relationship advice.

beautiful, i just want you to know. in a programming move inspired by king midas, mtv has upped the ante on its reality programming. instead of slipping increasingly better looking people (arguably) onto its shows -- especially flagship show "the real world" -- mtv has finally decided to cut through the bullshit and go straight to casting ten actual aspiring models. instead of figuring out which cast member(s) was the the "hot one," mtv decided to just toss all hotties into its new show, to create a true melting pot of hot. god bless america.

see, mtv had a problem. how could they top the mega-success created by melodramatic good looking teens from laguna beach? their obvious answer was to kick it up a notch and throw an entire cast of beautiful people in front of the camera. say hello to "8th and ocean." after watching the highly anticipated first episode, i'm here to tell you that the strategy (shockingly) works. beautiful people inspire awe, or hate, and either one makes for gripping viewing.

in addition to having telegenic models on-screen, mtv has further assured the success of 8th & ocean by having twins on the show. note the acclaimed television history of having (real or fictional) twins on your show: 90210, friends, sister sister, full house, i'm sure the list is much more extensive. all winners, sort of.

8th and ocean boasts the intriguing premise of identical twins on different career paths. how can this be you ask? don't they look alike? yes, they do, but there are slight differences. strangely, one twin is objectively better looking. both are abnormally good looking compared to us regular humans, but somehow, kelly is just better looking than her sister sabrina. kelly also has a more outgoing personality and a better relationship with the camera. despite looking almost exactly like her sister, sabrina just doesn't have it. plus she has acne and is jealous of kelly's rising star, which gives her even more pressure -- possibly leading to more acne. hey, beautiful people get acne too, right proactive?

this is a social psychology question worthy of our highest universities. how can two identical twins have such different prospects in the modeling world -- a world predicated on physical looks? i will be pondering this question throughout the duration of this show. i mean, i'm not watching the show for the models, that would just be too obvious.

the show also features a modern day dorothy from kansas, britt, who claims to have never gone out to a club before, and doesn't know how to dance. riiight. by episode three i'm sure she'll be tossing down drinks and gyrating on invisible poles with the best of them.

from the first to the last of it, delivery is passionate. it's not often i can whole heartedly recommend a movie for everyone. in this case however, i'm not just plugigng a great movie, but also a great concert. with the newfangled idea of "film a live concert, show it on a movie screen, charge people ten bucks, make more money" about to explode into our movieplexes, chappelle's block party is a great example of how this idea can work. my hands got all sweaty throughout the movie because i was so excited about each upcoming musical section. i kept on thinking to myself "am i really watching this? this is amazing!"

i'm itching to go watch it again as soon as possible. not only is dave chappelle hilarious and genuine, the musicians featured in this movie/documentary are some of the best ever. if i could make up a dream hip hop concert lineup, the result would be very similar to this one. add in some tribe called quest and de la soul maybe, or something like that. but it's hard to argue with chappelle's tastes here. the only improvement i would make to the movie is to make sure everyone is up and out of their seats dancing and singing along (which did not happen at our showing). the two hours i spent in the theatre was more exciting and fulfilling than the (estimated) two hundred hours i've spent in clubs and concerts. simply ridiculous. go watch it, now. or become my blingo friend so we can win and then watch it together. i'm on chappelle block party high, i can't help it. spread the word!

the farcicals. it's that time again, the annual oscar awards. i used to think that maybe i was missing something about these award shows. i have very defined (narrow) tastes in movies so i gave the benefit of the doubt to those people who are actually involved in the film industry. surely they had more insight into what a deserving film consists of. after all, aren't they doing instead of just viewing? however, now that i've read my latest issue of ew, i'm convinced i'm right and they're wrong.

one of the articles gives us the opinions of three actual voters (an actor, a screenwriter, and a producer). they uniformly lament the lack of nominations for forty year old virgin. now i'm not here to blast forty year old virgin but c'mon, it's not a great film. even in its genre it's not a great film. mildly entertaining, yes. mortifying to watch with parents, double yes. but oscar worthy? are you kidding me?

and look at this year's oscar nominations and some of the front runners for the awards. first off, heath ledger and michelle williams in brokeback? they didn't even do anything -- except fall in love on the set. i won't even bothering arguing that brokeback isn't the best film of the year, since there's no way to discern what was the best if munich and crash were both nominated in that category. and you know how i feel about crash. paul giamatti being snubbed two years straight and then finally getting a pity nomination for his work in cinderella man. the sins of the past cannot be rectified so neatly. and wait, william hurt got nominated for history of violence? are you crazy? was his ten minute screen presence that amazing? um, no. wait, why do i care about the academy awards? i just gave up award shows recently.

i'm really starting to re-think this "if you do it, you know more about it" default philosophy. do artists really know more about art than other people? are musicians more in tune with the work of fellow musicians? are athletes better at judging the skills of other athletes? i suspect that aside from advanced technical know how, none of these things are true.

what is true is that this is the best commercial ever. and the twenty minute aladdin and jasmine show at disneyland is wittier and more entertaining than ninety-percent of the movies i've seen this year.

gold digger. here's a list of what tv dads earn. apparently, i'm a new millenium version of tony micelli. and i'm not even a good housekeeper at that, as my roommate will attest to. even al bundy, shoe salesman, has grossed more per year than i ever have. then again, he has at least twenty years of work experience on me, so i have some time to reach his financial level. if they based a tv show around my life, not only would it be terribly boring, but my family would die of starvation by the third episode. but at least i'd have more screen time to myself.

"no, i don't have a lawyer. i don't have a dentist.
i'm... you know, i make four hundred dollars a week.
what do you do?
well, at the moment, i'm working..."
-reality bites-

filmed in 1994, reality bites focuses around a quartet of early twenty-ish adults trying to find their way in life. lelaina is the big bread winner of the group, she makes four hundred dollars a week. her roommate, vickie, eventually gets promoted to manager at the GAP and makes four hundred dollars a week. (troy apparently makes no money, and sammy is, well, sammy's just gay, we have no idea what sammy does.) with a combined income of $800, they state that they'll never have rent problems again.

"you over compensate for having what's basically a monkey's job."
-clerks-

i've done some stunning calculations and come to the conclusion that i need at least five hundred dollars a week to live on. this averages out to maybe $24,000 a year. i recall that when i exited college, it would have been an insult to take a job that paid anything less than $30,000. now i'm thinking $30,000 could fulfill all of my earthly desires. making $30,000 a year, pre-taxes, amounts to something like $12/hour. at first this seems ludicrously low. but then i got to thinking. what could i do that would be worth $12/hour to someone? nothing really.

"i'll tell you the problem with your generation. you don't have any work ethic."
-reality bites-

i had a thought that i could work at the local videogame or bookstore until my next life peak comes. but then it hit me that videogame employees probably don't make $12/hour. they probably don't make even $10/hour. which leads me to believe that the adult-aged staffers at the gamespot down the street probably live with their mothers. or maybe they live eight to an apartment with their other videogame playing friends. i'm starting to think i left my cushy videogame job at the peak of my earning power. my food was subsidized and the long hours insured that i had no energy or time to spend any money.

"being a professional is doing your job on the days you don't feel like doing it."
-david halberstam, who was the commencement speaker at my college graduation-

of course, there are lots of undesireable jobs that pay $12/hour or more. twirly real estate sign holder. those guys get paid #12/hour. administrative workers get about $12/hour. workers in the retail industry probably make around that much. i think being unemployed makes about $12/hour, which would be a nice option if it were available. basically, i need to pick a (short-term) profession that will enable me to survive until my next writing endeavor. or you know, just pick a profession period; one that will allow me to live a lavish, much envied, lifestyle.

my real life earnings potential is stuck in 1994, much like my taste in movies. the good news is that i do have a dentist and many lawyer friends, which must count for something.