Anything is Possible

Listening to: Kimya Dawson, "Tire Swing."

What to make of 2008? I can't say it's been a hard year but to be honest, it's been a hard year. If 2006 was the year of discovery, 2007 the year of recovery, then 2008 is the year of, well, something that rhymes with -covery. Whatever. I'm not even going to begin to complain because I haven't had a job for one day this year and the next time that'll happen will probably be awhile. Have I used all that free time wisely? Certainly not, but it hasn't been totally unproductive.

I've been going over past pictures, blogs, and journal entries in an effort to encapsulate what 2008 was about. For the most part, it felt disjointed, like big momentous things happened but then sped by to be replaced by long lulls where I sat home and itched for action. Let's just start with the stats of it all.

Best movies: The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, Iron Man, Planet B-Boy
Best books: The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay (M.Chabon), Love is a Mix Tape (R.Sheffield), How to be Alone (J.Franzen)
New friends made: Six
Contact lens prescription: -5.00 (left) and -4.75 (right), both increased slightly
Car odometer reads: 206,632 miles
Money wasted on online dating sites: $34.99
Web addresses bought: Two (jonwow.com and exclusivelychloe.com)
Twitter updates: 459
First five picks, fantasy basketball: C. Paul, A. Jefferson, C. Billups, A. Jamison, C. Anthony (currently number one)
First five picks, fantasy football: S. Jackson, L. Fitzgerald, M. Colston, R. Bush, J. Cutler (ended season in third place)
Buy a copy of EC (May 2009) and I earn: $0.40
Tagged photos of me on Facebook: 145
People kissed: Four
Music on repeat: Adele, Shortbus soundtrack, Girl Talk
Days I've been 30 years old: 122
MVL stock bought / sold: $30.25 (May) / $32.81 (Sep)
Money made from MVL stock: +$230.40
Colored iPhone apps: 18 blue, 8 red, 7 green, 15 orange/tan, 8 purple, 4 steel/neutral
Lowest Brain Tuner time: 15.62 seconds
Moblog entries: 293 (73 in August)
Blog entries: 63 hyperwest, 109 jonyangorg, 30 next thursday
Journal entries: 79
Movies seen in theaters: 37 (10 A, 12 B, 11 C, 4 D)
iTunes: 25,049 songs, 106.2 days, 123.84 gigs
Haribo gummy bears consumed: Infinity plus a handful

I collected approximately nine months worth of unemployment -- originally only six months, but George W. was kind enough to sign an extension during the summer. That allowed me to not only increase my savings but combined with living rent free at home all year, I didn't think about money once. Actually, I thought about it a lot but only how to use it. Would I buy new clothes, could I take more trips, should I buy trinkets? In the end, I didn't exactly splurge on anything, in an effort to conserve money for when unemployment ends, but I didn't penny pinch either. It was fun. For so long I've lived with the specter of having no money, or having to borrow, that I really enjoyed not even blinking at paying for things, or paying for other people's things. It's nice to buy people stuff, even if it's just a drink or dinner.

Unemployment ends in a week or so. My job hunt begins soon and barring a miracle, I'll be back at some terrible entry level job I hate. The trade off will (hopefully) be that I'm out of San Diego and moved up to somewhere like San Francisco. I dread the prospect of returning to a job but I won't even bitch about it because everyone else is dealing with real adult things like layoffs and keeping their jobs while still juggling bills. I have no job sure, but I also have no bills. And yes, I'm thirty.

As for writing, I've begun to become comfortable saying that I'm a writer. Until I could see the finish line for this book, I wasn't willing to say "writer" to describe myself unless pressed. Now, with it finished and completed, I'm willing to say, "I'm a writer," when someone asks what I do. I still feel like a sham about it but you are what you say you are. Unless you aren't. Either way, one of my goals for 2008, to actually try and start freelancing, failed miserably. I haven't technically had any writing responsibilities since July or so but I never got my act together to even try submitting articles, queries, or anything of the like. That goal will have to rollover I guess, like my minutes.

I attended four weddings this year (Stacey, PZ/Amy, Tien, Susan). I was not a bridesmaid for any of them, despite the release of Made of Honor in 2008 -- which I never saw, perhaps my fatal mistake. I guess that life goal will remain unchecked. My list of potential female friends who might even consider me to be bridesmaid status is quickly getting pared down though. So far nobody's been woman enough to shake things up and throw a great guy friend up there. C'mon people, someone be original. I'm running out of time! I've got a few dear friends planning weddings for next year so I'm keeping hope alive. I'm a size six and I look good in white (t-shirts).

The amazingly hopeful beginning of the year, filled with plans to travel to Southeast Asia with my fellow Dirty Thirty club members (James, Lynn, George) fell through. My grand plan to move to New York for the summer? Also fell through. The end of the year finds me where I swore I wouldn't be at the beginning; back at home, slumming in San Diego. Basically I'm all talk. I didn't move anywhere. No Hawaii, no overseas, no big international trips. I did manage to spend August in New York, make four separate trips to San Francisco, and a side trip to Washington DC. I could rally and go somewhere in January but that might cost me a month or two of rent when I move. Rent, trip, or new laptop? No brainer: laptop. Real brainer: rent. Not coming soon to an airport near you: me.

I guess it's okay though because now 2009 can start fresh and alive. "Hope" you know? On the very last day of 2008, the people I've called or talked to tonight to wish Happy New Year and such, the people whom I'm in constant daily contact with, are an entirely different group than a year ago. In fact, it feels a little bit like my close friend circle has changed. The old stalwarts, the people who've long dominated my late night, daily, and random but strangely consistent phone calls have all changed in the span of twelve months. This might not seem like much to you but for me, the bedrock of my general happiness and mini-socialness lies in these phone calls/texts/emails. So to have the whole bunch switch over has been really interesting.

It wasn't until a few weeks ago that I realized this had happened, when I'd fully replaced my habitual almost daily phone call person with someone new, that I saw the changes for what they were. The people I interact with, talk to, or know what's going on the most, are mostly people I didn't even know (or barely knew) last year. I'm not sure what that means exactly except that people move on, habits change, and my list of frequently dialed numbers has been altered for better or for worse.

On a sidenote, I'm currently working on a personalized friendship roles thingy based on this NBA Archetypes Hierarchy. More on that when it's done. I'm excited about it because I'm a retard and I get psyched about this stuff.

Part of what has made this year seem so topsy turvy is that matters of the heart have taken me far afield and into places I'd never expected. Technically speaking, I've been single for about a year and a half. As I navigate a continued friendship with my ex, I'd resolved to stay single for as long as possible to avoid hurting others (and myself I guess). Well that didn't exactly work out.

In the middle of the year, two really close friends and I got into this big old messy situation where we basically played two boys, one girl. As you can imagine, it was an awkward and emotionally wrenching couple of weeks. Not only was I facing the prospect of feeling alienated from my absolute best friend, it was also tied into complications and a new definition of friendship with my other friend. We sought solutions other than the obvious one of backing off, or having her choose, but in the end, I kind of just decided that I couldn't do it. Three way, open way, no way. I stepped out of the situation and to be honest, the awkwardness and emptiness of it all hasn't evaporated yet. C'est la vie.

I was either not brave enough or not crazy enough. Take your pick.

What I've learned (not necessarily from this situation), or hope to learn, is that it's not necessary that every time there is mutual attraction, there has to be a jump to hyper speed and a relationship. That's not an easy lesson to let sink in after years of indoctrination in the "date for marriage" school of thought. If anything, I'm incredibly fearful that I only know how to react to romance seriously, instead of lightly or from a "let's see what happens" approach. It'll be a nice lesson to explore and learn because I freaking suck at serious romance.

I tried to stay attachment free heading into 2009 (and flippantly I always said 2010) but in the end, I kind of failed. But happily. I'm sort of, kind of, definitely dating someone now and while that's an entirely scary thought with my horrendous track record, it is exciting and hopefully results in only the best. I think I learned quite a bit from my last attempt at a relationship and those lessons will ideally carry over into the new year, and into this new thing. "Keeping it real," as a friend of mine always wisely says. Wish me luck.

I guess that about covers it. 2008 in a nutshell. I'll end this with five great times, in chronological order.

(1) Going to the Super Bowl in Arizona with James, as an indentured servant for Okapix.
(2) The Celtics win their 17th championship. I misplace a $1500 winning ticket. Whoops.
(3) PZ and Amy's Wedding and the New York trip in general. Seeing Amit every day for like a month.
(4) Re-meeting my cousins, Cleo and Tiana, after seven years. They're totally grown up now and super fun and amazing.
(5) All the San Francisco trips, complete with oyster shucking, mash up parties, Little Mermaid sing-a-longs, 30th birthday celebrations, and Stevie Wonder-full.

Melancholy & the Infinite Sadness

I had a poetry class with Charlie (Black Eye Sunrise) years ago, at UCSD. I'd never written any poetry before, not really, and it's absolutely criminal that we were in the same class. I think his pieces are incredible and I could read them all day, which I basically do.

No More Poems to the Dead
Listen,
Be still for a moment.
In the year that I lost you
I drank more than I ate,
Roads stank of curbs
Which reeked of red
And peered over
Looming space.
I said:
Hear now, in the hour of my undoing,
I reject you, oh my dead friend,
Your fearful symmetry cannot fold me
Into the syllogism of paper cranes.
We are done,
Finally.
There is nothing left of us
Not even a memory,
Not even love,
And this evening is just
Another crest
Against the chest
While my heart still beats
To be broken.

Tweet Tweet

Just in time for California's enactment of the ban on text messaging while driving, I changed my texting plan to unlimited. This was inspired by George stating that she was really close to her 1500 texts limit. I casually checked how many I'd used and was shocked to see that I was already 150+ over for the month -- at three cents per -- with another whole week to go. 1500 sounds like a shit load of texts (average twenty five a day) but when you have Twitter, and Loopt, dumping into your text message cue, that can add up quick.

Two years ago, I was texting with a closet friend a ton. Like at least ten times a day, which I thought was a lot of texting. (Recently I've been cranking out 50+ texts a day to just one person, I'm breaking new personal records). That volume of texting would get me in major trouble from my then girlfriend because she couldn't understand what there was to talk about every day -- and I couldn't properly or patiently explain that it was all trivial details but part of a larger important over-arching conversation. I just told her to please make it not bother her, which didn't work in the slightest. I kept texting though since I'm an ass and don't like to concede things.

One thing I love about eating dinner with guys (or techie and phone addicted girls) is that nobody gives a shit if you're not looking at them directly. With my Sidekick keyboard I could hold a conversation and text at the same time. Sure it was a bit rude but seriously, I was capable of paying full attention to both. I can multi-task... sort of. Fiddling around on the phone while eating dinner with a girl, or the girlfriend, will get you stared down and hated on. Truth. Anyway, I'm ready to be an unlimited texting machine. Bring it on.

Our week/end spent as the Fantastic Foursome (George, Dann, Steve, and I) was great because we always had iPhone or G1 in hand. That's not terribly different than when we hang out with the San Diego boys, but this was like a new tech grouping and not only were people constantly on their phones -- George was probably a bit too much actually, she is seriously super addicted -- but it got a bit crazy with us Twittering mundane things upstairs and downstairs to each other, or through bathroom walls. Other people following our Twitters must have been like "What the hell is going on here? Why are they talking about if they're awake or not?!?" Basically, since our Twitter circle is so small at the moment, it's just serving as a platform for mass public texting. But seriously, it's pretty addictive and you can't really understand the impact of how it brings you together into the day to day aspects of your friends' lives until you actually try it and make an effort to get involved. Twitter combats loneliness man, it makes you feel like part of a team.

Everyone get on Twitter right now, find an appropriate Twitter app for your smartphone (I like Twitterfon best for the iPhone), and then friend me -- or go create your own Twitter community and see how fun/useful it is.

Day 114

Listening to: Usher's Caught Up. I wonder how long it would take me to learn how to head bob like they do in the video. And if I would ever want to do it in public.

It's the night before Christmas and all through the house, everyone is sleeping, and well, I'm up I guess. Dann is crashed out on my bed and he just rolled over to announce something like, "DSL6. Do you use it to get special privileges? Because I wouldn't." I didn't grab my camera in time but I'm poised and hoping that he says something cryptic again. Perhaps he's revealing G**gle secrets. I should mic that boy up. He showed up at the airport packing a brand new G1 Android Phone. He's been leaving a trail of bread crumbs about his awesome new toy but we, his Twitterati, couldn't figure it out in time. So now I might be a little bit jealous. I mean, the phone seems pretty awesome. I'm almost afraid to play with it in case I like it.

He's gone silent. Must keep camera on high alert anyway.

Since spending the month in SF with George, I've gotten into the habit of checking up on her in the middle of the night. She tends to read before sleeping and falls asleep with her glasses on and the lights bright. I sneak in there, take off her glasses, turn off the lights, and if I were really nice, would probably think about sliding a bookmark in for her. But I'm not that nice. Strangely, she's still up right now (3:57am), working through the last pages of "The Time Traveler's Wife." Must be a good book. I'm going to go check on her again.

She's out. But as soon as I turned off the light she woke up and startled me. "What're you doing?! Where's Dann?" I assured her nothing exciting was going on and walked away. "Don't close the door!" Fine, fine, sheesh.

Tomorrow the holiday festivities start. My mom has two huge Chinese dinners scheduled for Wednesday and Thursday. She's stressed about hosting, I'm stressed about entertaining the kids (anyone 30-under), and George is just stressed to have people everywhere -- plus she's kind of had a big day. I'm looking forward to it all though. There's a sense of mystery about how the dinners will go and once the weekend hits, the SD folk will gather post-holiday obligations and Steve from LA will be driving down for major debauchery.

More like video games, bowling, karaoke, food, and movies, but we'll just call it debauchery okay? Dann's never been to San Diego before so it's paramount that we show him a good time. I can't decide if him passed out face down on my bed counts as a good or bad start.

I've been alternately on the phone and emailing. I've got my late night people and everyone's up. Plus a few randoms. A friend texted me because she went to the bathroom and now I'm keeping her up with a flurry of replies. We'll see each other tomorrow so the conversation could really wait. But that's the fun isn't it? Amit commented on my Facebook status change at seven in the morning his time. I wonder what he's doing up so early. I hope he was out late and causing social ruckus or something. Generally speaking this week, I know it's time for bed when Mary (who's in Darfur) logs onto Gchat. But I just remembered she went off on some treacherous expedition or something. A vacation she called it.

Time to call it a night then. Happy pre-Christmas.

"The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter."

Day 112

I've had a few conversations recently with some guy friends about our lack of older male role models. (Very) generally speaking, most of the guys I know love and respect their fathers but don't necessarily look up to them. I chalk this up to the big generational gap between Chinese kids and their parents. From an early age, you sort of gain this awareness that while your father is definitely an authoritative figure and brings bread to the table, he is also lacking in certain areas. For example, the classic Asian father is uncommunicative, never shows their emotions, and is generally just around. There's a huge world of difference between the traditional father-son relationship in say, Caucasian families, and many ethnic families. I don't know how to put it into words exactly but I think you know what I mean.

So we grow up a generation of fatherless sons. We don't want to be like our fathers, because we see them as either (a) out of touch or (b) leading a life that we'd never want to, and we generally don't have other male role models. Some people might find an uncle or a church leader or a professor or something to look up to and emulate, but generally speaking, we're alone and unguided, probably mostly due to our dismissive attitudes of our fathers, but also because they might just be lacking in that sense.

When I get asked now what I miss about my dad, I think the answer nowadays is that I feel like he was on the precipice of passing on his wisdom and adult knowledge. At twenty two, I was starting to get old enough to not be a kid anymore and I think he had been waiting to take me into his world and to start treating me as a (young) man. That or he was just getting worried about my I was floundering and had to reach out. Either way, the things that I wonder now are what he might have wanted to pass down to me.

My father wasn't unemotional or uncommunicative but he definitely picked and chose his spots. I remember specific moments when he'd pull me aside to say "I'm proud of you, I like how you handled that, etc." but overall we were hardly in conversations that evaluated my life decisions or in spaces where he pushed advice on me. I think he was waiting for me to figure out what I was looking for (because maybe that's what he'd done) and then to step in and guide me when I truly needed him or was old enough to accept guidance.

So that's what I guess I don't know. What he would have counseled me about career, relationships, happiness, mistakes, and life. I mean, I think I can kind of extrapolate if I think really hard about it, or try to gather an idea of him and think about what he might have said, but that would probably mostly be way off the mark. Even worse, I'm more sad at the idea that I won't get to ask him about why he did and what he did.

So I'm not sure if that counts as missing him. I equate missing with the past, sort of. So I think what I'm missing more is the relationship that would have grown out of him being around for my twenties, and it's hard not to think about what would have been different, if anything, if nothing.

We were at a Chinese dinner party this past weekend and over dinner we were listening to one of our old family friends pontificate about life. This uncle has known us since we were teenagers and has three sons of his own (all older than us). I asked him lots of questions about if he was ever worried about them, what he had worried about, and what sorts of advice he gave to them, or if they had ever come to him for advice. That led him to talk about these sorts of things for over an hour and a half with us, a rapt audience of four, aged thirty to sixteen.

I've had this sort of "lecture" before but in recent years, I drink this shit up. I don't necessarily agree with the message or hear anything particularly different from the various uncles, but I'll sit there and listen all day. I crave that nugget of wisdom that might pierce through the storytelling and the jokes. I'm digging around for anything that fathers might tell sons, perhaps in some hope that I'll grab some insight that way.

While I can't say I'll necessarily take the advice and implement it, any more than I would have earlier, I'm all ears and so much more open to this idea of seeking older male role models, if only to fill this void that I'm sure I have and I'm beginning to suspect that filling this hole might be useful and important in further growth as an adult.

Luckily, it's the holidays and we're slated for Chinese dinner after Chinese dinner. I've got to remember to pack a notebook.

Know Thyself

Listening to: Paul Tiernan, "How to Say Good Bye."

I spent most of the afternoon organizing my Google Reader, trying to figure out what I'd like to read every day versus crap that just crosses my desk. I considered cleaning up my del.icio.us too but that seemed pointless because I rarely reference it. Basically I'm trying to streamline my Internet time heading into 2009. Hours and hours spent online would better be used writing, or at least, reading. I've found that being back home, sitting in my preferred chair, enables me to not budge for five or six hours at a time. While my little desk at George's house was nice, it wasn't quite as comfortable as my setup here. It's been two days and I'm already back to my standard San Diego routine. Up at two, sleep at dawn, accomplish nothing. Yup, I'm definitely home.

So Leslie sent me an interesting article today about how watching rom-coms (romantic comedies) can spoil your love life. Fascinating that they do studies on this sort of thing. I should have gone into social anthropology or something, I could design these types of experiments all day.

It's hard to argue that these movies don't create unrealistic expectations for your real life but the article doesn't go into enoough depth anywhere to back it up with solid evidence. I mean, one of the parts of the study they mentioned was having students watch Serendipity versus a David Lynch movie. Of course the students watching John Cusack and Kate Beckinsale were more likely to believe in fate. Shit, it's fucking John Cusack/Lloyd Dobler! Plus the only thing people usually feel after watching a Lynch film is confused, and not just about love.

A quote from one of the researchers: "Films do capture the excitement of new relationships but they also wrongly suggest that trust and committed love exist from the moment people meet, whereas these are qualities that normally take years to develop." What I take from this is that movies can give us this idea that amazing relationships can spring forth from a singular, instantaneous, moment of chemistry. If that's what they're arguing, that movies have fucked with our perceptions of the beginning and end of relationships (from magical circumstance to happily ever after), I wholeheartedly agree.

I'm a victim.

I mean, I've long treasured my Before Sunrise moments and have almost consciously made that part of my relationship (and friendship) pattern. But maybe there is something to the idea that trust and commitment can't be built off one weekend's sparkle. I don't know though. I'd like to equate love to religion and if you want to trust and commit to someone, you just do it, damn the torpedoes. Faith as it's called. And it's so much more romantic that way, to fling yourself into the great beyond don't you think?

"I guess when you're young, you just believe there'll be many people with whom you'll connect with. Later in life, you realize it only happens a few times."
-Before Sunset-

Anyway, at the bottom of the article is a link to this new study these researchers are doing. It's called "The Media, Personality, and Well-Being Study." I guess they're looking for some link between your media consumption and your love life. Well, of course I'm gonna do that. Fifteen minutes later, I was still in the middle of the longest relationship questionnaire I've ever done. So many damn questions and all of them of the "strongly dis/agree" variety. And each one probably worthy of a good conversation.

So if you want to find out how you feel about romantic partners, try this thing out. It's like a relationship DDT with yourself. You don't have to sign up for the rest of the study either, or submit any information, despite the info page up front. Just take it so we can talk about it later. Here's some sample questions:

• I often worry that my partner doesn't really love me
• If your partner expresses disagreement with your ideas, s/he probably does not think highly of you
• I do not expect my partner to sense all my moods
• Sometimes romantic partners change their feelings about me for no apparent reason
• My desire to be very close sometimes scares people away
• I feel comfortable sharing my private thoughts and feelings with my partner
• Damages done early in a relationship probably cannot be reversed
• Misunderstandings between partners generally are due to inborn differences in psychological makeups of men and women
• One of the major causes of marital problems is that men and women have different emotional needs
• People who have a close relationship can sense each other's needs as if they could read each other's minds

Day 106

It was a dark and stormy night. Well, day. On my first full day back, I mustered up some motivation and headed out into the rain, driving an hour all the way down to Chula Vista. Amanda's holed up there because it's easier for her to recover from her recent back surgery in relative peace and quiet at her grandmother's. I hadn't talked to her at all over the busy weekend and the rhythm of knowing what was going on had momentarily slipped away.

We drove around doing her errands for a bit, which mainly consisted of trying to find hair styling supplies. The beauty supply store was so serious. A giant double sided row of brushes, insane amounts of hair dye all stripped of their packaging and offered up in "Don't buy this unless you know how to use it already" bottles. I could go on but overall I was just staggered by the sheer number of options. Girls do not have it easy do they? What the hell isn't ionized or tourmalined or whatever? It doesn't help when the saleslady clearly didn't know as much as Amanda. I guess the experience is like taking a (typical) guy into Fry's or Home Depot. Everything looks similar and offers the same options but there's a world of difference if you know what you're looking at. On a sidenote, is there a comprehensive site that offers reviews of womens' products similar to how electronics and gadgets are reviewed? Is this already done or is this possibly a business idea?

And let me just tell you that looking into a 10x mirror is frightening. Who'd ever want to subject themselves to that daily? Ew.

During dinner, twin spaghetti's at Macaroni Grill, we read each other's tarot cards. We both have the exact same Albano-Waite decks, hers are older and more well worn than mine -- even if I insist that I've been taroting longer. Her cards are wrapped lovingly in a scarf from Japan. Mine sit in my trunk along with all my other gaming supplies. Other items in this cardboard box include electronic Catchphrase, a bag of Squabble tiles, a chess clock, two decks of cards, and a lipstick holder containing various dice. I won't even go into what those dice are used for. You either know or you don't.

I was recently at a museum where they had some old tarot cards exhibited and I finally learned about the artist behind the iconic Rider-Waite designs. Pamela Colman Smith was her name. Good trivia fact.

Spreading the Amanda shuffled cards out on the table, I took careful notes of which cards were displayed and then used a tarot book to jot down notes on the individual meanings. I know and like tarot but I've never been able to commit the symbolisms and significances to memory. My divination process involves lots of time and scribbling short hand on paper. It's not very mystical but I assure you it's very accurate.

There's a moment in every fortune telling when you see the story you can spin. I love that moment. Sure it's usually pretty generic, sure it's mostly contrived, but there is actually a sense and a meaning there. What I suck at is arriving at this sense and meaning without showing all the cogs and pulleys behind the process. My inner wizard doesn't even bother with the facade or hide behind smoke and mirrors. I tell it like it is and just stitch a few interpretations together. Amanda was much better at reading, not to mention quicker. She laid the cards out in the cross formation and began revealing my future immediately. No twenty minute period of page flipping or note taking. She had to refer to the book once in awhile but the story she told was compelling, semi-detailed, and would have me convinced. My story telling was a lot less specific and magical even if it was undoubtedly true. Her style was certainly better but I'm still positive my third eye is stronger than hers.

I asked about my writing career and the upcoming release of the book. She asked about her love life. We both have good things coming around the corner apparently, mine in mysterious form and hers through a letter or email. Can't wait to prove that I'm right.

Say It Ain't So

Do you believe the saying, "Once a cheater always a cheater?" What if it's just one mistake? Does it matter how many times a person has cheated? Is it like killing someone. Do it once and it might be an accident. Do it twenty times and you're probably capable of continued killing? After all, the thinking is, "If someone's done it before, what prevents them from doing it again?"

It's about strength isn't it? If you're not strong enough to resist once, what kind of assurance can your partner have that you'll find the strength to resist next time? If there's one thing that's as certain as death and taxes, it's that the opportunity to cheat will always be there. Temptation is never far.

Askmen.com has helpfully compiled a top ten list of reasons to tell her you've cheated. It's not a bad list and covers the bases.

1. (1) So she hears it from you
2. (2) Because it's the right thing to do
3. (3) Because you want to make it work
4. (4) Because you care about her
5. (5) Because you don't want to make a second mistake
6. (6) Because it was a mistake
7. (7) So you can live without paranoia
8. (8) To regain the respect of your peers
9. (9) Because the guilt will drive you mad
10. (10) Because you can't count on your partner in crime

I've cheated before and my nature is to hide it and cover my ass. I mean, one of the bigger reasons that people feel compelled to tell their significant other is guilt (I think this should be higher up on the list). I don't have it. I don't often feel guilty about things and in this particular case, while I knew cheating would be horrible, I did it with a clear mind. And even if I wasn't clear of mind, I would never blame anything else or try to pawn off responsibility. That's just despicable.

Originally, I didn't break up with my girlfriend by announcing that I'd cheated on her. My reason for breaking up was that we weren't working out and that I was over the relationship. All true and for the most part, both of us could live with that answer. But later on that day, I told her about the cheating. My reasons? Basically I didn't want to have to hide it, from her, from other people, or to force the "partner in crime" to have to hide it either. That's not fair to anybody. I don't have a particular attachment to truth but in this case, it was necessary.

It crushed her, of course, this admission, and she was disconsolate and annihilated. She wouldn't even believe me at first, until I laid down when, where, and maybe why. We'd been together for roughly two years and we'd only ever been apart for a few week/ends. She thought it was maybe another girl, another weekend. She couldn't believe I'd actually done it. She blamed herself, and then blamed the other girl (still does). And she hated me. But this post isn't really about that.

For my part, in the aftermath of all this, I got a tattoo on my finger, and one of the reasons I chose that particular symbol was because it's a reminder of what I've done. I don't always explain that portion of it, of course. Usually I go with the others reasons I got such visible tattoo. But I know what it also means. Actually, I don't hide the cheating reason much. I have no reason to. I'm not ashamed that I've cheated. It's probably incredibly common -- not that it makes it right. I'm not proud of it obviously, but I also don't want to forget it. And more importantly, I don't want to be tempted to tell other people I get involved with that I've never cheated.

So that's what that tattoo is for.

Dilate

"this other friend, i painted glow in the dark shapes on her black, steel toed, doc marten boots. a half moon on one boot. three stars on the other. four years later, the moon and the stars were still there. we hugged whenever we saw each other on campus and passed along our phone numbers as a yearly ritual. but we never once got together to talk. and now, our friendship has waned and i don't know what she does. or where she is. or what we used to talk about. or anything. but she gave me ani."
-April 2002-

Walking down the street the other day, just one block away from George's apartment, I ran into an old friend from college. Even though we were quite a distance apart, she recognized me while I kept staring at her in shocked, slowly dawning, recognition. As we approached, I heard her say to her companion, "We went to college together." Immediately, I grasped for memories about her and feared that I would say something totally weird. Mainly I was just so excited to see her, it's been nearly ten years, and she was one of those friends from college that I thought I'd lost forever. In the age of social networking sites, I guess it's not that uncommon to find long lost friends anymore but to actually see them just randomly standing on a street, it's overwhelming.

We didn't have much time to talk, aside from a few flubbered "Why are you here? How long? What are you up to?" before she and her husband had to catch the bus. For the next few minutes I was still totally out of it, as the memories dredged up washed over me and I reminisced about how important she was to my early freshman year experience. It's a feeling impossible (for me) to describe and I couldn't help wondering if we'd get to actually meet up and talk at some point.

There was a moment in there where I was so afraid that she had forgotten me, or forgotten my name, or something like that, and if she had stumbled introducing me, I might have been crushed. Instead, later in the day, she Facebooked me and now we're reconnected forever. I'm hoping to meet up with her when I get back and catch up then.

It's incredible when you think about the odds of such a thing happening. One friend, one corner, one bus to catch. If I wasn't headed to KFC at that very moment, I would have missed it all. The odds are incomprehensible but things like this happen so often (relatively) that everyone has stories like this. That's why sometimes I'm out and about and I swear I'm going to see someone I know, or I hope to see someone I'm missing.

In this case, I was thinking in my head, "Wow, I wonder if we'll see anyone we know right now." For kind of different reasons, true, but it's still somewhat magical and fate-like.

Also, I discovered that this long lost friend has the most awesome tattoo. Look at it, isn't it beautiful and original?

Adventures in...

Over dinner with a friend I haven't seen in over a year, a period in which he had picked up and moved to Shanghai, leaving behind his apartment and long term girlfriend (they're doing the long distance thing), it occurred to me that he had done exactly what a large part of me wants/needs. He left a comfortable environment and challenged himself by going to a place where he knew no one and had no safety net. He did move overseas for a job but even then, it took some time to acclimate himself, to force the issue of being social among strangers, and in the process, he grew and spread his wings. Even from something as little as learning to eat by himself, he found strength and courage he never knew he had -- or lacked.

After I revealed how his experience made me jealous and slightly in awe, he encouraged me to move out of the country too, to pack my bags and go somewhere with no friend or life foundation in place. But I'm afraid of it. Despite having no attachments or monetary worries at the moment, I'm afraid of leaving. I don't do well by myself, and given the choice, I'm more likely to hole up in an apartment looking for Internet than wander out to explore a city.

But it's exactly because I'm afraid that I need to do something like this. As they years skip by, I'm running out of opportunities to expand my horizons, to challenge myself (socially and in life), and to take a leap of faith. Even if getting terribly lost, kicking up dirt, and not having a nearby support system could prove to be catastrophic, it's all low risk and high reward. It's called self reliance and I don't have it, and the last time I arguably had to challenge myself in this way, I utterly failed.

This friend is also embarking on an interesting business idea that combines extreme teamwork, meticulous preparation, far reaching goals, some venturing into the unknown, and preys on the "no cost is too high" attitude of parents concerning their overachieving kids and their chance for getting into the best colleges. Of the many random business ideas I've heard, this is the most personally engaging one, and one of the few that doesn't involve the Internet. I hope it works out for them.

Day 92

My big event of the day was driving my mom and Jimmy's mom to the airport. It seems like a simple enough task and one that shouldn't be a big deal. Well, it wasn't, not in principle, but it kind of was. I mean, I hate driving in the city. I fear hitting things. While SFO is hardly very far away, I thought I would just to dropping my mom off where Jimmy's mom was. As I navigated our way from the Marina to Chinatown, I got a tad lost and increasingly annoyed. My mom hinted that maybe it would be nice if I could just take them instead of having them bus/BART it.

What sort of self respecting child doesn't take their parents to the airport when there's no transportation or time conflict?

Originally, my mom said that she'd just say I was busy and couldn't take them to the airport. I think it embarasses her (to her friends) when she has to admit that we don't do certain things for her. So I think she prefers to make up excuses for me. Like even though I've lived at home for the past year, I'm always so gruff and curt with her when she asks for "favors." I mean, these aren't even favors. Driving her around someplace, doing something that could take a few hours, might be a bit of an inconvenience, but at the end of the day, isn't that big.

I hardly offer to go out of my way to do things and when directly asked, I sort of get all annoyed. It must hurt her, somewhere. I wonder if she wonders how she raised such ungrateful kids. And it's not about the closeness or the relationship even. It's about empathy, care, and unselfishness. Most of our other friends seem to do things for their parents, on differing levels of course, but I'm sure I'm pretty low on that spectrum.

A thankful son would say something like "Let me carry your bags while we walk to return them." Bags containing stuff she had bought for me that I didn't like and rejected nonetheless. Instead I holed up in the car because I was essentially surly and not being helpful.

Secret Lives of the American Teenager

After and during a Thanksgiving meal at my uncle's house, I was embroiled in discussion with a group of not-so-young teenagers. My cousin, now nineteen and a sophomore at Berkeley, had two of her childhood friends over. One was a year older, the other two years younger. They represented a perfect focus group for me. After giving them a thorough interview about the things they read as a young adult, scrolling through their iPod Nanos, and asking them about their obsessions, I got onto the topic of how they perceived their social status in high school. That somehow led to this gem:

"So when you did stop being shy?" I asked.
Sarah, the oldest one and seemingly very outgoing and probably the most comfortable with who she currently was, reminisced for me. "Like maybe sophomore year of high school."
"Oh yeah? Why?"
"I got my braces off." That answer, cliche because it's absolutely true, dissolved us all into laughter. It was the perfect response and her charming smile afterwards drove home the point.

For most of the evening, I'd been intently studying Ashley and her friends, watching them and more importantly, listening. What I realized is that I hadn't really captured the way real teenagers act/talk like very well in the Chloe book. I wrote teenagers as I've read them before -- it was a rendition based on a rendition. Even though I've been told that my dialogue represents female teens well, I noticed that I really did a piss poor job of capturing the little details that really highlight the way lines are spoken and a conversation is exchanged.

For example, the contrast between the hyper kinetic way one of the girls talked versus the slowly measured way my cousin chose her words and how that difference in energy changes the way you listen and react. And how talking really really fast tends to make a girl seem younger, even if her words are wise beyond her ears.

Plus I didn't put in enough physical cues, the sort that really capture a person. I stuck in some "beats" of course, but they were generic and not so much revealing as functional. The hardest thing I had to learn writing this book was working with dialogue. My first drafts read like screen plays and I found it an entirely new experience to have to vary the visual space of having people talk on a page. I kind of wish I had recorded parts of yesterday's conversation so I could practice recapping it in book fashion.

I've been trying to listen more to the world around me, in an attempt to become a more observant and better writer. It's difficult for me because my memory is terrible nowadays. I purchased a beautiful perfectly sized orange notebook a few weeks ago to carry with me, mainly to write down bits of conversation that I hear. It's not easy though, because people talk faster than I write. And I'm not in the habit of jotting things down quite yet. But I can work at it. For now, I'll just keep my eyes and ears open and find some more teenagers to study.

It's crazy to me how with it teenagers are. From re-meeting and interacting with my sixteen year old cousin this past fall, and exchanging weekly emails with her, I've realized that there really is no intelligence gap. There's an experience gap, a maturity gap (arguably), but there is no intelligence or worldliness gap at all. If anything, teenagers tend to have more stimulating conversations than the ones I'm typically engaged in with my peers, maybe because they (still) possess nimble curious minds and seem to have opinions about everything. Given a choice, I might very well prefer to hang out with the teenage crowd than the post-collegiate crowd. They seem to be more full of life, excitement, and possess this boundless optimism mixed with a wariness that's studied but not yet experienced. It's certainly a more invigorating combination than alcohol and banalness.

Blast from the Past

"and to answer the 'are we still at odds' portion of the email. the quick answer is no. however, driving home was no joy. i tried to defend my miscommunication, but then i gave up. she gets real agitated when we talk about this stuff. i haven't known her long enough, or well enough, to understand why she gets the way she does when talking about such things. we were nominally okay but she didn't seem like she was having a great day. and then on tuesday, we were trying to discuss going to eat or not eat or something. and i was somewhat snippy and rude (for just one second, and one statement). she wasn't happy about that. but she coughed it down. and then i addressed it later. so far i think she's cried, or i've made her cry, a total of five or six times since sunday. then on wednesday she told me that she didnt want to hang out that night (we were all to go to a friend's for a pizza/grammy's thing) because she was in a funk, sad, and didn't know what to do.

of course, i had also said things to her like 'its really hard for me to care about someone, and it's been interesting to try.' i think she's wondering why i have to try to care, why someone doesn't just automatically care. anyway, i was for sure that once the decline happens, it's irreversible. and maybe it is. this could be much more detailed than you wanted to know. the end of the story is that we're not at odds really but there's much to discuss. and i'd also like to sweep the last week under the carpet, but i don't think i want to.

i've given a lot of thought to how much i distance myself from people, and not just in relationships. i can't figure out how or why. i think i seem like i'm pretty close and open to just about everyone, and i am, but on an almost superficial-ish level. and i'm finding out that during this so called relationship, that i'm so much more aware of my motivations and reactions to everything. like i'm so clear about everything.

do you want someone more or less sassy than you? assuming 'sassy' is a good way to describe yourself (which is not how i would describe you, but just humor me). would you constantly be trying to out-sass someone if you went out with someone who was sassier than you? basically i'm wondering if you'd want to be with someone who had less than, equal, or more personality than you (at least outwardly)."
-Feb 2006-

The Safety of Objects

Oh love at first sight. It's so damn magical mythical isn't it? Can you tell I just came back from watching Twilight? All those long tortured stare downs between Edward and Bella. Goodness gracious. Part of you just wants to scream "Get it on!" but the other part of you wants to drag those delicious moments out forever.

Most everyone has had an experience like that in their past, when you just knew that you and someone special should get together. That's what usually happens to me. Not that I look at someone and feel like we are destined for each other, but within the first minutes of our interaction, I can pretty much already figure out if I like this person. I'm not a wishy washy type of liker. I just know. The most honest and dramatic instance of this was probably with my last ex. It certainly wasn't like we saw each other and fell in love but afterwards we both admitted to this instant chemistry that was different than just simple attraction.

From our first fleeting interactions to when she actually started hanging out with us/me, there was this clear and undeniable sense that we were definitely going down the path of romance. It's an addictive feeling. Embarking on those first few weeks (or hours) of hanging out and finding yourself falling in love -- if not actually in love in love -- and having every moment and spare thought directed toward the other person. That's what relationships are all about right? Wanting to be with someone so much that everything else fades into the distance? That's the magic of it anyway.

I'm a bit notorious for smothering the object of my affection with attention in the first few months. I lather up the attention, I present this incredibly fun and devoted side, and then I get the girl, thus portending a long gradual slide into inattention and problems. So that initial burst of enthusiasm, if you can call it that, never sustains itself. Not for lack of trying but something in my nature is always looking for that next big hit, the rush that can really only come about from having new people and relationships.

"Hey girl how you doing
Do you feel like talking?
Or do you need me to call you back
You from round what way and when's your birthday
Or what's your zodiac sign
Well I'm a Virgo so my sign's compatible
What you do for fun cause I don't drink or club
I just like to chill with somebody like you

Everything is cool when love is all brand new
Cause you're learning me and I'm learning you"
-Musiq Soulchild, Newness-

What I'm learning though, as reflection on a long string of failed relationships, is that the initial rush combined with attraction doesn't have to equate to relationship. In fact, I'm sort of deciding that being in the zone of just really admiring and loving that grey space is perhaps all I need. It keeps me on edge. Like the possibility of something happening, along with the safety of having nothing happen, might work out best for me. Looking at it that way, I'm faced with confusion about what a workable relationship is anymore.

I'd rather not repeat mistakes of the past but I find myself unable to get excited about dating someone without that rush. I mean, I fear that the pace I'm historically used to will lead to the exact same dead ends. I've been told that maybe the issue is that I need to be dating someone who can continually excite and stimulate me. Once that newness wears off, I need to be sure that the person I'm in a relationship with can continually makes things fresh. But that goes against everything I know and understand about relationships.

It seems to me like relationships are mostly about building and maintaining your own two person island. The trees go here, Thursdays go there, the moat is this deep and this wide, and the whole point of it is to be in familiar space. Relationships are about building a safe place and comfort. To step away from that paradigm is not only new territory but also something I don't really have a roadmap for.

Examples is what I need, I need examples of relationships that aren't insular by creation. Or maybe I just need to watch more Twilight.

Clan of the Cave Bear

As is wont to happen when a couple of guys get together at a bar, the talk turned to women. We ran through the usual debates and comments -- rehashing them because this wasn't a familiar guy grouping, at least to me. "Which city has the hotter girls?" "What do you look for in a girl?" That kind of thing. With a five to one single to taken ratio, we had a lot of opinions but not a lot of options.

The conversation turned to what particular traits about women intimidated us. Intelligence, money, age, experience? I said that a girl's cool factor could definitely intimidate me, especially in relation to this one girl from college, whom I've (rightly) dubbed "the coolest girl/person ever." She's seriously the only person I consciously just felt nervous about talking to and years later, I still feel the residual nervousness of those (non-)interactions.

Someone else said that beauty intimidated them. Like he would be very self conscious around a really attractive woman. In his mind he could picture the future and how it would be to fend off other pursuers. Then we reminded him that this wouldn't be in terms of a relationship, but just in the getting to know you stage. Even worse he said. He'd be even more aware of the "Who is that douchebag with the hot chick?" comments.

One of the guys, someone I don't know very well, said that he couldn't date someone smarter than him. We made the obligatory "Everyone is smarter than you" jokes but then dug a little deeper. What do you mean by intelligence and how much smarter would she have to be? Would being say, a lawyer or engineer, qualify her as too smart? The flippant reply was that she could be smart but not smart enough to realize that she should be dating better than him. Which was the perfect humorous answer but also probably a little bit true.

Another guy then brought up how he'd feel intimidated by a girl who was more worldly or cultured. Like if they'd been around and seen a lot of the world or experienced more of life. That would make him less sure of himself. It was interesting to see what people answered, even if it was just bar talk and not necessarily anything to be taken seriously.

The conversation wrapped up and we headed out.

It didn't pass me by that we were off to meet two successful girl friends for dinner. One is a lawyer and recently moved into the city. She's expecting her bar results this Friday. Her firm has had only one person fail in the past four years. That's apparently insane because the passage rate for the California bar is only 40%. It goes without saying that she's working for a top firm. Our other female dinner companion has been steadily working on her grad school applications for awhile now, fitting that task around her day job helping a Nobel winner with his research. Of the other two girls who'd normally be accompanying us for dinner, one was a law student and the other was more highly paid than any male there. By a long shot.

We're no dummies but it seems like we tend to know, as a general rule, women who are more accomplished than us on most levels. Money, intelligence, (looks), skills, coolness, culture, and any and all of everything we'd just talked about. So what did we have going for us? Well, we were men. And um, men rule?

All I can say is thank god for electronics that break and things that need to be moved or hung up occasionally.

Day 80

I'm up in the Bay now, for a span of three to four weeks. Upon landing and taking my bags into her apartment, George and I strolled down the block for donuts and coffee. My stock is recently high with her so she's been gracious enough to allow me to stay. I also quickly helped her spring clean and find some space for my luggage, my new computer desk, and my presence. The hope is that she'll find having me around so joyous that I can be here for an extended amount of time. This represents the longest period we'll have had occupying the same space since high school and it could lead to some momentous brother-sister breakthroughs. Or she'll tire of me and want to kick me out. Let's hope for the former.

In my idealized San Francisco life I picture myself wandering the city from one end to the other, iPod blasting and my feet never tiring. I'd drop in on friends during their lunch hours while spending the mornings and early afternoons at a cafe reading and writing. After six days of this I'll have met a new acquaintance that will quickly become a friend. She/he will introduce me to their social circle and I will have an opportunity to explore the side of the Bay that I've suspected but never seen. That acquaintance will be a writer or an artist, and also available to hang out during normal person working hours. I will be inspired and creative and finish a book proposal that will instantly get sold because of how marketable it is. Then when unemployment runs out, I will take a part time job that doesn't require much brain power but helps to pay the bills.

And I will finally have bills. Rent, electricity, cable, Internet, and cell phone. Plus a monthly budget that involves lots of movies. I will be technically poor but rich in spirit and culture. I will live in a three person apartment far away from the parts of town that teem with unwashed homeless people. But close enough to a bus line that I understand. I will be carless but friends will be willing to pick me up -- once in awhile.

I will have two special friends. One I'll meet for dinner every Wednesday (or Thursday) and talk about things that we can't talk about in the presence of others. Mainly gossip and "What did you think when?..." The other will be someone I never see but spend hours on the phone with as I walk the city. I will also date. Perhaps just one or two but they will be learning experiences.

That's how San Francisco will be, once I can muster up the courage to face the winds and go outside.

Day 74

Listening to: Elvis Presley, "You've lost that loving feeling". I had no idea this was Elvis' song. Watching the video, he is really The King.

I'm psyched to be heading to San Francisco on Saturday. I'm going for a few weeks, a month, maybe more. No agenda, no purpose, just getting away from San Diego. I have the notion that I'll go up and start looking for work (unemployment runs out in January) and to figure out if I can actually make a real move up there. There's nothing really holding me to San Diego at the moment and I really didn't want to spend the end of 2008 still slumming it in SD.

My original plan was the get up there by early November but that was put on delay as I've had to finish a few projects, host a few out-of-towners, and generally lie low and um, play Warcraft a lot. I've been having trouble sleeping recently. Going to bed at six am, waking up a few hours later, and then feeling like I don't want to sleep again. But then I'm too tired to actually do anything productive so I listen to a few podcasts, pop in a movie, and inevitably waste my semi-waking hours anyway. That all changed this past weekend as I suddenly acclimated myself to a normal schedule (not on purpose) and now I'm up before nine and my head is filled with excitement and energy.

I think my body is telling me it's done hibernating and ready to be productive.

Recently one of my best friends came to visit with her fiance and our friendship refrain is that we never spend any actual time together. Out of our eight years or so of friendship, we've probably spent less than three months of it actually hanging out. They came on a West Coast swing to see if they could possibly move out here after he finishes this part of residency.

I really like her fiance a lot. I've never met her previous serious boyfriends because there's a part of me that doesn't like to own up to the fact that she's not "mine." But this one is her one and he's a really solid, great guy. That's the struggle with having close friends get married. I like to conceive of certain friends being "mine," of extending an ownership blanket over them, but when they get married, that all changes. I know, I know, you can't own people, not fairly anyway, but that's just how I think about some friendships.

Day 71

George had this to say about the anniversary of dad's death. ("Anniversary" seems like a weird word to use in this context).

"i dont know why but i always feel as if on his anniversay i should be staying home, alone and reminiscing on past memories and then when i dont, i always end up feeling guilty about it. i feel guilty that somehow im being a bad daughter and because for the other 364 days of the year, i dont really think about it or it doesnt really play a big part of my daily life and that for just one day, just 24 hours, i should pay my proper respects."

Since I was actually in San Diego, I accompanied my mom to the memorial park. We packed up a plastic trash bin full of flowers and headed over there as it rained slightly. Generally speaking, I don't visit the grave because it's not a place that speaks to me of my dad. Instead, I mostly go when prompted and even then I'm slightly resistant. It's not because it's hard or difficult, but rather because the physical resting place doesn't hold much meaning for me.

I used to imagine going there by myself and sitting there in the nice grass, thinking deep thoughts and maybe clearing my head or heart or something. It doesn't work like that. Something seems deeply artificial to me about going to a cemetery by myself, or with anyone actually. It's hard to overlook the gardeners, the obvious economic benefit of the tiny plots, and the general sense that this is less a place for resting than a place to be put away.

When we go, my mom is always insistent on cleaning the memorial plaque and removing the dirt, twigs, and debris. My paternal grandmother is buried a few rows up and to the left of my dad and it's usually George and my job to tend to her plaque and to fill her flower pot. I'm ready to leave as soon as we dump the flowers off but my mom usually will gather us together for a moment or two of silence and "talking."

I'm not even sure if anyone is talking to my dad except for my mom. I dunno, do you talk to him George? I'd bet neither one of us does. In this I feel like we're the same -- even in if nearly everything else we're opposites. One of the first inklings for me that we may be more alike than different was in the seemingly emotionless way we both dealt with my dad's sudden departure.

I don't think either of us really cried, at least in front of each other. Actually, I think I did, maybe at his Chinese funeral. Regardless, both of us were more similar in our non-reaction than our obvious grief. Which surprised me because I'd expected her to be a crying mess. Shows what I know.

I think the problem I have with a day of remembrance or a day of grief or mourning or whatnot is the whole ritualization of it. In time it starts to lose its meaning and the actions come to mean less and less. By doing such and such in this or that order, you preserve the moment but lose the meaning. At least that's the way it feels. I've never asked any of my other friends who have lost parents if they feel similarly. I should I guess, because I feel like both of us feel a bit abnormal, whereas it might very well be perfectly normal to be cooking bok choy at home and going house dancing at night in remembrance.

What the hell are you waiting for?

"The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. What is called resignation is confirmed desperation."
-Thoreau-

The other day I was talking to James and he had a conversation with a mutual friend and he asked him, "Are you happy?" Which is one of those super generic questions but it took the friend by surprise because people so rarely asked him that. Like his life is full of friends, activities, and general happiness but beneath it lies a lot of unrest and skepticism about the direction everything is going. What was lacking was a purpose. For example, I don't want kids, I'm essentially devoid of a career, and I'm not tied into the idea of finding marriage or a life partner, so at the end of the day, what do you live for? I guess the short answer is that you have one life to live so it's always worth doing something versus nothing but without anything tying you down, it can be a very transitory existence. You make do and try to accomplish what you can and search out joy wherever you can but that's almost pointless right? Like the same as just idling and hoping time passes?

It's about finding purpose, I guess.

Day 65

I didn't participate today in the most historic of days and I don't even have a good reason why. Someday, maybe my children will ask, "So did you vote for Obama?" and I'll hem and haw and maybe say, "Yup, sure did!" just to be a part of the action. That was probably my best reason to vote actually, to join in the movement. After all, this is one of those things that will define our lifetime right? "Where were you when American elected its first African-American president?"

Nearly everyone else I know voted. I have friends who have thrown their all into this election and are going to bed tonight with success and joy in their hearts. I wish I could give a good coherent reason for why I declined to vote. It's not like I didn't have the time. There are a lot of stupid often trotted out excuses and none of those really apply to me. I just didn't feel like it. But it's not just about the presidency since there were other issues very worthy of support. Same sex marriage in California might be overturned and if just a few more people like me had gotten off their asses, maybe it wouldn't have been this close.

I think if you neglect or choose not to vote, you also give up your right to have opinions about it. Or rather, your opinions on people who voted the other way. Like today on Facebook everyone was donating their status updates to Obama or McCain. In my mind I'm going "You're voting for McCain? Really?" But who the hell am I to be able to say that? I didn't do shit. Overall it's probably indicative of a sideline posture I consistently adopt in life, where by not doing something, you do absolutely nothing. Which means I lose, I guess.

Anyone else wonder what was the point of the hologram interviews they were having? I have to say I was mighty suspicious if it was really a hologram or just some TV gimmick that made it look like a hologram. I mean, didn't it look way too Stars Wars-y to you?

Oh wait, that was an opinion I shouldn't be allowed to have. Fuck, maybe I should've voted.

Crash

Listening to: Bonnie "Prince" Billy, covering R.Kelly's "World's Greatest."

Tonight I spent time in the company of two close friends, but in such incredibly different ways. The first one was just a brief dinner, downtown with her, her friend, and her boyfriend. We ate pizza, drank wine, admired his cat's climbing abilities, and generally talked about Halloween and the Midwest. This particular friend represents a very important person in my life but at the same time, I have a hard time sometimes gauging exactly when/how we're close. There are things I'd inconvenience myself to do for this friend that I'd rarely do for others but a lot of that has to do with the fact that I've just decided I want to be this way for her. Like somewhere along the way in our friendship I've decided that I'd just be this person, ready and willing to say "Yes" to anything.

Now, does that mean that our friendship would falter if I wasn't like this? I don't know. Does it seem to go against tenets I've set up around my other friendships? Sort of. Truth to tell, oftentimes we're as much out of touch with each other's lives as acquaintances and there are times when it feels we are that exactly distant. From the outside looking in, I think other people would hardly know that we were friends, much less close ones. Only after repeated verbal and life affirmation would this fact be clear.

There's quite a bit of history to our friendship, much of it forged years ago and that's something that's always stood very prominently in my mind. And in a way, it gives me this foundation to unquestioningly depend and revel in this friendship, even when it seems like there are hardly any things to say at times.

The rest of my night was spent walking Coronado beach, with feet bare and frozen by the cold sand, and eventually settling on a life guard tower to smoke and talk. It's been a difficult time with this friend, my declared best friend, and we haven't seen or talked much to each other recently. In contrast to my experience earlier that night, there was a lot to say, and a lot of situational comfortability, but also this pervasive sense of not really knowing what we could and wanted to talk about.

I'd forgotten recently that the beach had always been our place. Dating back to high school, our typical hang out would consist of me picking her up, grabbing some coffee and cigarettes, and then heading to the nearby beach to catch up. The rhythm of our friendship was consistent for many years. No shared friendships, no cross-over lives, just simply see each other once or twice a year to talk -- and for me, solve.

Recently that rhythm has changed, to include hanging out or talking nearly daily and now that that rhythm has changed, the friendship is under a bit of strain. It hasn't been easy. But aside from that, in comparing the two experiences, one impersonally personal, the other personally impersonal, I couldn't help thinking about how these two friends represent very distant points on my friendship model and if there was something lacking in both.

Or something lacking in how I've been keeping all friendships. How is it that two people, both considered to be very close to me, can exist in such separate spaces in my life and in my interactions with them? And why do I have such trouble detailing those things to either of them? Or more accurately, verbalizing and identifying what I want/need from one, and what I can/can't give to the other?

The Next Episode

Okay, get over to jonyang.org to find out about "Exclusively Chloe," my next book, coming May 2009. Because this place is dead anyway.

It's Here (Sorta)

Advance reading copies of the book have arrived. Right into my grubby little hands. I spent a few hours at the bookstore today (and together with a partner in crime, amassed a dozen or so books, many of them for $2 apiece) and remarked on how anything put in book form automatically read so much better. And then magically my manuscript arrived all bound and pretty, and with a cover! This isn't the final version, of course -- that one won't be out for months (with a dedication page for damn sure) -- but it's pretty near complete. Start saving up now kiddies, everyone on your list will need one.

I wonder if I can go public with this thing yet. I mean, my greatest fear whenever a book is getting done is that it's all some big dream and if I reveal anything about it I'll wake up. Okay, keep it real, this has only happened once before. But still. I'm afraid to talk or speak about it because it feels like they can take it back at any point.

But now that the advance proofs are here, they're committed right?

Boys will be boys

Recently Lilly has said a few times how her world is right again with me and Hong being friends again. Not that we were ever not friends but there have been some strained bits the past year or two, surrounding how I was at work the time I went nutty and also how we all walked out from the job afterward. In those conversations, there was definitely times when trust was a big issue. I think for me, the friendship between guys is hardly much questioned because once you accept a guy friend into your life, like a really good guy friend, the only thing that tends to strain that bond is a girl. Nothing splits guys up like having a girl in the middle.

But in these situations where trust devolves a bit, I squarely believe in acting out of self interest. While, of course, you always cling to your desire to not hurt the other person (and think of their interests as well), when it comes down to it, people need to act out of their own desires and wishes and if both people are honest and truthful about that, a bigger and better friendship will emerge. And right now, in a somewhat similar, but totally different way, James and I are going through a rough patch. And I say "rough" because there is a general lack of closeness that has been brought upon by the current situation and all the ramifications along with it. Whenever we've told anyone about it, one of the first things they'll say is how said it is to see the two of us "broken up."

So in that way, this weekend was wonderful. We had a standard and regular guy's night in (with George) and between the food and the poker and the laughs and the making fun of each other, we found familiarity again. Which is something that years of foundational friendship brings. When I've tried to explain my current feelings about the situation, and how I've been reluctant to engage in interactions with both of them, it's always in this way where I know that we're perfectly fine on the surface levels, but lurking underneath it is an uncomfortability and wariness, from both sides I think.

Only time, and eventual conversation, will heal that but given my current mind state, it's always good to have positive reminders of the way things usually are. Because at the end of the day, your boys will be your boys and the things that could pry you apart generally don't last for too long because male friendships tend to be more resilient than female friendships. If I can make that very broad generalization.

Choose Your Own Adventure

You know what's one of the hard parts of having a significant other? Having to demystify what your relationships with opposite sex friends is all about. And to do it in a kid glove way. "It's totally nothing. Of course I can see how people think she's attractive. But no I'm just not attracted to her." Meanwhile you're strategically neglecting to mention the two months you spent pining away for her last year.

I know, I know. Relationships are all about honesty and openness. However, there's really no safer answer than: "She's just a friend." There's like this telekinetic shield surrounding that statement. Even if the person asking is suspicious, they know they'll have to use that same line at some point so they have to respect the truth (or half-truth) that goes along with it.

If they're going to probe harder than that, they better be prepared to defend themselves at another time. Possibly in the next three seconds. "What about Chuck? He's always touching you. Are you guys 'just friends?'" Sometimes when talking about this stuff, it feels like both parties are playing a particularly volatile game of Bomberman, trying to defuse shit as fast as they can.

When you're not dating someone, if the person asking you is someone you trust, you can usually give a pretty honest answer. "Oh she's super cool. We have this weird kind of vibe that I can't fully describe but yeah, I'm kind of attracted to her." You say shit like that to your significant other and you're liable to get the glare down. Maybe I'm short changing women too much -- or at least my experience with women.

I've heard of couples who willingly talk out loud about their interactions and attractions to other people but personally I've found that it's usually done with a disclaimer right afterwards. "But you're the one for me because..." If you don't say stuff like that, you're a total ass. Trust me, I know. My problem is I'm terrible at giving my girlfriends compliments. I'm tight-fisted with my words of affirmation when I'm dating somebody. (I could probably work on that actually.) However, when I talk about certain other people, I practically gush about how cool they are. To the point sometimes when my girlfriend asks, "Wait, why don't you just date HER?"

"I don't know" or "We're not compatible in that way" usually doesn't suffice. The truth is that sometimes I do know or I think we could be compatible in that way but you can't even say that stuff. I guess what bothers me is that once you lock into a relationship, it's like you have to suddenly act out this play where both of you pseudo-acknowledge that you're both each other's number one choices.

Which is, like, totally not true. Especially at our age. You don't go through all this time without acknowledging the idea that you can be attracted to multiple people (sometimes at the same time). I don't know who's still holding out for the One but it seems rarer and rarer nowadays. And it's not even about the cynics or the jaded people. Holding your hat in your hand waiting for the One seems like something to do in your twenties. In your thirties? Get real.

Of course the question then is why are the two of you dating each other? Aren't we supposed to be dating our number ones? Well, as we all know, it doesn't work like that. Timing, circumstance, distance, unrequited feelings, mistakes, auto-fails, any number of things get in the way of an actual relationship. If we were all trying to date our number ones then there would be a hell of a lot more single people around, right?

There is another paradigm to consider here. Perhaps it's healthiest to just spit out your real thoughts and feelings about the people in your life. Talk about your crushes, indulge in your wicked thoughts, stop tucking away parts of yourself that are important even if they're relationship taboo. It could possibly be liberating. Possibly.

While I may not quite be ready for all that, I am grasping onto the idea of how harmful it can be to constantly downplay my relationships with other people. See, I'm really just promoting jealousy instead of defusing it. You can't use the "she's just a friend" line every time and expect to get away with it. Eventually logic wins out and not everyone is "just a friend." It's misleading and somewhat immature to keep insisting on it, especially taken in concert with the idea that we're of the age when we all know it's hardly always the (whole) truth.

So I should change my tune. If I'm going to pine away for honesty, then I have to be honest, right?

My standard line is that most of the girls I've dated have somehow acquired jealousy issues once we're in a relationship. This is despite me specifically looking for traits that would indicate they wouldn't be jealous. Do they a lot of opposite sex friends? Check. Do they have a guy best friend (who isn't trying to sleep with them)? Check. Are they emotionally capable of handling a few grey area friendships? Check. All this ground work but it still always goes to shit. Hang on now, once a sucker, twice a sucker, three times or more maybe it's you! You meaning me.

Basically what I'm beginning to come to terms with is the idea that "It's me, not you(her)." And I'm starting to finally see all the little things I do that that create a culture of insecurity and jealousness. For awhile I was convinced it was them -- them meaning girls. I was pretty certain that all girls must be like this; despite rumors of a parallel universe of girls who aren't like "that."

While I'm sure that parallel universe exists, I've got no time to sit around waiting for it to find me. I have a hell of a lot of things I need to work on myself. That's why I'm trying to stay single for awhile. I'm trying to take ownership of how my personality shapes the awful parts of relationships I'm in. There must be something I do that pushes fear and instability into my relationships.

And when I find that something I will slap it around a little and then maybe give it a quick hug.

Party of Five

You know how people are constantly evaluating how far in life they've come versus the traditional idea of success, etc? Well, those things can pretty much be distilled down to five general categories. Career, family, relationships, friends, and miscellaneous. That last one is tricky because it could be totally different for everyone. Health, religion, general state of being, comparison to peers, whatever.

Basically what I'm going to do in my head is assign 0-2 point values to each of the five categories and see what a particular person's happiness/life rating would be out of ten. Oh, and maybe minus points would be allowed for, you know, big minuses.

So I'm currently at a nice even 5/10 on this scale. Career (1), Family (1), Relationships (0), Friends (2), Misc (1). After giving some thought on it this weekend and batting this matrix around a little, we found a few people who might rank a nifty 9/10 on here. Okay, maybe just one or two people. Plus we're on the outside looking in so it's hard to tell if someone is really happy or not.

But that's kind of the point of this exercise, it's all about being on the outside looking in. When people are like "Oh, so how's so-and-so doing?" They are generally asking about these five things. I believe that if you can score a 8/10 by the time you're forty or so, you can say you've succeeded in life. And then maintain and try to cope. Or you know, just get crazy and wild.

Some guy developed the Oxford Happiness Inventory which is supposed to measure psychological well-being. From Wikipedia it says, "This measures happiness as an aggregate of self-esteem, sense of purpose, social interest and kindness, sense of humor and aesthetic appreciation." I'm not sure what these things have to do with happiness in the traditional sense but they seem interesting. Apparently this has been critiqued because it lacks a "theoretical model of happiness."

I'd like to research this some more and find out what other models of happiness exist. Here's one called the Emotional Quality Model and something called A Model of Happiness.

Before Sunrise

Listening to: Madeleine Peyroux, Don't Wait Too Long.

I'm taking hyperwest down, yes, again. The last time I did this it lasted like minus a week as I kept blogging anyway. But I've discovered that maintaining two public blogs is almost pointless. I was trying to keep all my non-personal stuff on jonyang.org and my life stuff here but really, what's the difference? For the most part, I just kind of felt this push to have to blog on both every few days. So instead of an urge to blog on just one blog every forty eight hours, I'd think about doing a post for each. Then I'd freeze and not blog on either. Then again I've had 375 posts on both since Jan 2007 and that comes out to about 0.60 a day. Maybe I need to cut down on the blogging to do some real writing...

Anyway, I've been toying for a bit with the idea of being able to blog about anything I want again, and going semi-private seems safer. I don't really value my privacy that much per se, but I would value other people's. Plus, even though this forum is entirely mine, I feel like I've lost my voice somewhere in here and I'd like to experiment and find other voices. It can only help.

This domain will stay up of course because everything I have is up here but I'm pretty much just going to switch everything that woulda been on here to jonyang.org and anything that's not really for total public consumption, or will bore the hell out of everyone, will go elsewhere. And I'd love to come back to hyperwest once I can figure out how to password protect, easily change designs, and have fun widgets at my disposal.

For the new blog I almost ditched Blogger for Wordpress but decided against it in the end. I'm a Blogger loyalist and it would be too big for me to change over. I really hate some of Blogger's design issues -- or my ineptitude -- and the fact that you can't password protect select posts but whatever, I'll make do. I can totally make commitments, see?

There won't necessarily be that much exciting stuff on the other guy but if you'd like to tag along, just email me (with your preferred email of choice) and I'll send you an invite. Unless you are my archenemy then maybe I wouldn't want you to read about my plans to destroy you. Which isn't nice but it's either me or you and I'd probably prefer it to be you.

"There's no point to any of this. It's all just a... a random lottery of meaningless tragedy and a series of near escapes.

So I take pleasure in the details. You know... a quarter-pounder with cheese, those are good, the sky about ten minutes before it starts to rain, the moment where your laughter becomes a cackle... and I sit back and I smoke my Camel Straights and I ride my own melt."
-Reality Bites-