as if living in a dungeon was not bad enough . . .
let me tell you what it feels like to have your hand bust through a glass window while trying to close and lock your broke-ass door that won't close or lock properly in your dingy-ass dungeon of an apartment (which you are paying an arm and a leg for, mind you) . . .
it sucks. a lot. and it hurts like hell.
i stood there for a second, in disbelief. i heard the window shatter and saw my hand go through it, and i definitely felt the pain as i instinctively pulled my hand back out, slicing it up nicely on its way out. . .but it did not quite hit me yet until i saw the puddle of blood start to collect on the ground . . .
ugh, i know this probably makes it sound a lot worse than it was, but still. it was not the most pleasant experience when you're already bitter about the freakin' dungeon you live in. ok, i'm gonna go change my bandages . . .
at least there's no stitches required. . . i don't think. mom, dad, and sis would've been proud by my first aid medical response . . .
i've realized that i need to start making plans for the weekend way in advance. . .
apparently calling someone at 8pm on a friday night is not enough notice to make plans for that night [who knew?], but that makes me wonder: what is the socially acceptable buffer?
now obviously tuesday is too soon, that's just ridiculous, and thursday is probably too late, as many people start their weekend festivities on thursday night (myself included, at least at school). that leaves wednesday, which probably represents the problem for me. to me, wednesday is hump-day to the extreme. it sucks. it feels like you've gone through an entire week already, and then you realize that you're only halfway done. ugh. when i get back from work on wednesday night, a huge part of me wants to go out and have a great time til whenever, passing out at 4am with utter disregard for what time i wake up the next day . . .
but, i always am thinking in the back of my mind: dude, you still have 2 more full days of work left, and while it's perfectly acceptable to drag ass on fridays, the same does not quite hold true for thursdays. thus, i end up sitting at home not feeling particularly social. given this anti-social temperament, making plans for what appears to be an astronomically distant weekend is the last thing on my mind. . .
meanwhile, it's only monday. 0.5 down, 4.5 to go . . .
some thoughts that hit me as i walked back from lunch today . . .
is there a rule that every tourist in DC must carry a set of standard equipment while walking painfully slowly in the middle of the street and standing in the middle of the subway escalator? if there were (which i suspect there is), i think it would include the following:
1) huge sunglasses (with the strap that keeps them around your neck, of course)
2) a hat (or visor if one is "feelin' frisky"*)
3) fanny pack stuffed to the brim with essentials such as sunblock, maps, cameras, eskimo pies, umbrellas, etc.
4) an ensemble consisting strictly of khaki shorts (of an unnerving length), white shoes, socks (pulled up to calf-length), and a blinding white T-shirt that says "FBI" or "CIA" on it (with the creases from its former residence on the table on the street still prominently in view)
haha, i love people watching . . .
*i've actually seen a shirt with the words "feelin' frisky" on it recently. what the hell does that mean?
my other quasi-epiphany happened as i was chatting with co-workers on the way back from the amazing japanese market where we ate lunch:
if a group of guys is walking, sitting, eating, or whatever, something interesting happens whenever a hot girl walks by . . .no matter what the topic of conversation is or who is speaking, all conversation must cease once the beautiful girl is in sight. it's kind of an unspoken rule, but i'm sure many have spoken about it before, so let's just call it an unwritten rule. the best part about it is the girl is not even mentioned most of the time; often a quick glance to your buddy or a subtle biting of your knuckle is sufficient to communicate all that needs to be said. it's not like everyone stops talking and turns their head to gawk either . . .the male species has evolved wayyyy beyond that. that's so 1990s, ha. i think perhaps one of man's (and i do mean man, not personkind or whatever the most PC term is today) greatest accomplishments is the ability to stare at something without really looking at it . . . go us.
now when the girl is again out of sight, conversation will likely continue as if nothing had ever happened (again, often times without even a mention of what had just transpired). but we all noticed . . . and we all know we all noticed. it's sort of like the alley-oop of everyday conversation; we're definitely communicating, just not perceptibly i suppose.
i know you're thinking this is fairly chauvinistic of me, but keep it real, you know you do it too . . .
and they say men have trouble expressing their feelings . . .ha
Disney, free will, authority, and delusions of grandeur . . .
something random occurred to me as i was flipping through the channels the other day. i flew past emeril, CNN, MTV Jams, and a slew of otherwise forgettable entertainment and stumbled on Aladdin, the cartoon. i remember watching this cartoon when i'd get home from school (this was not that long ago, by the way), and from what i can remember, enjoying it.
of course the most memorable character is the Genie, voiced by none other than not-quite-Robin Williams in the syndicated cartoon version. the Genie is funny, he's a little on edge, and a little slow-witted, but he means well and will do anything for his friends. overall he's a good guy, but more importantly, watching the cartoon got me thinking about his own free will, or lack thereof.
now if you recall, in the movie version, Aladdin tricks Genie into getting him out of the cave of wonders without using one of his precious three wishes. very clever al. BUT . . . after saying that was the only freebie he would get, the Genie presumes to make a wish for Aladdin when he helps him escape near death after being thrown in the river. . .
herein lies the problem for me: when citing the "rules for wishing," the Genie declares there are certain things he absolutely cannot do, as he is bound by Genie law not to. now obviously, he is physically able to do many of these things that seemingly would violate his rules. Remember that he willfully took Aladdin out of the cave of wonders and essentially made a wish for him to save his life. this implies that the Genie has a perfectly operating sense of rational free will, and has control over his actions, more or less.
but if the Genie can choose when to say "damn the rules!" then why is he voluntarily abiding by them? is he so good-natured and altruistic that he refuses to bend the rules for the sake of humanity, order, or possibly authority? that doesn't make sense either, because then it wouldn't matter if a person with bad intentions became his master (i.e. Jaffar, to continue on the cartoon tangent) because the Genie could simply refuse to grant any wishes with malicious intentions. . .
i have a point . . . i think.
doesn't this remind you somewhat of a political leader, or any person of authority for that matter? they have certain responsibilities and there are definite laws or rules that limit their abilities, in theory. but then there's that special case . . .causes can vary from corruption to nepotism to megalomania to plain old arrogance. the special case is when this individual thinks the rules don't apply to her/him/it. when they take matters in their own hands and get their friends out of their own respective caves of wonder. many people have major, major problems with this. i'm not so sure i do. . .
a person in a position of significant authority theoretically, and most often practically, has a whole lot more going on than most others. given the hightened amount of expectations, pressure, and responsibility that they perpetually feel, why can't they be allowed a few freebies every now and then? i know it doesn't make very much sense logically, rationally, and maybe even morally, but it just doesn't seem like that big a deal in the grand scheme of things--as long as its not abused. . .
now whose job is it to decide whether or not this authority figure is abusing his magical (read: financial, political, institutional, etc.) powers? . . . that's a whole other headache . . .
at some point in the past 6 months, i started to get old. i know, all my 24+ friends probably still think i'm mad young, but it's really weird how time catches up with you. only one more year of school left. friends applying to all sorts of graduate schools. friends getting married. others getting engaged. people buying condos and not just renting apartments anymore. it's scary man.
my mom has been flipping out [though she will deny it flat-out] about the fact that my sisters are unmarried still at ages almost 25 and 28. now this has provided material for many a mother-son argument,* but recently she's taken it to a whole new level. a few months back, she started asking me questions about my matrimonial future. i was shocked, terrified, and surprised all at once. she says to me: "you know, you said yourself that college is the best time to meet people, and it's unrealistic for me to expect your sisters to meet great people so easily now that they're out of school. . . maybe it's time you stopped being so picky and found a girlfriend."
talk about your all-time backfires. i could see the smirk on her face too, she knew she had me. she took my own argumentative words and used them right back on me months later. she's good, i'll give her that.
but all this is definitely a recent development. . . i used to be the one she would bitch to about how all her friends' children were getting married. now i've become one of those unmarried children. ok, ok, i'm exaggerating. she's not on my case that badly . . . yet. but it definitely is indicative of her changing mindset. the fact that she mentioned it, even tho she was half-kidding [and therefore half-truthful] means i'm not just the baby anymore in her eyes, which has just as many benefits as drawbacks i suppose.
hmm, i'll have to think of more on that . . .
*my mom and i LOVE to argue, it's freakin' amazing, we both love it and love each other for it. though we rarely are genuinely angry, we frequently can be pretty passionate in selling our take. we think it's healthy, and we still get along great, so i don't see any problems with it.
i'm bored at work and google my nickname (suj) to see what comes up. [i googled the nickname cause i've already googled the real name of myself and everyone else i know in the world it seems]
anyway, i came across the website, almost in a blog like format, of a kid named sujeet desai. granted, we're very different, but i think there's a lot to be learned from a guy with this much determination and such a positive outlook on things. give his site a visit and give him a shout out if you got time . . . i guess his parents love to hear from people.
seeing as how i like to have the occasional gripe-fest via my blog, here's something else that really bothers me: people who pride themselves on their taste in something (most frequently in music) when they in fact have terrible taste in that particular something (again, i use music as the example).
now i'm not gonna name names, but some of you definitely know who you are (one in particular cause he always gets clowned for it). why does it annoy me so much? well, even though the argument sounds very snobbish on my behalf, in reality it is a somewhat altrusitic notion that gets me so pissed about this.
imagine if someone, who does not know much about music [or whatever], is friends with a person of poor taste. they're looking for some new stuff to listen to, buy, download, whatever. they ask their friend for some suggestions. their friend, thinking they have a keen ear* for this kind of thing, recommends the newest Murder, Inc. release from the geniuses that are Irv Gotti and Ja Rule (it's hard to relay sarcasm on the internet, but know that i've laid it on pretty thick with this comment). . .
do you see the potential danger here?! what if that was his friend's first exposure to music, food, art, books, movies, etc.? they would be SCARRED, dejected, and quite possibly petrified at the thought of trying something like that ever again. now hopefully, one knows their friends pretty well, and knows who to ask for advice in certain fields. if this were true, then this situation could be entirely avoided . . . but what if one is so deceptive and so convinced of their good taste that they've managed to mislead everyone into trusting their opinions . . . see i'm just lookin' out for the good of mankind here people, i'm not trying to sound like a jerk.
that is what scares me and keeps me awake while i'm dozing off at work . . .
i made the mistake of eating bad sushi the other night. actually, it wasn't quite bad, but it definitely wasn't good. i should have know better, it was a monday night, like 9pm, so 1) the fish was probably from the weekend, and 2) it was almost closing time so it had probably been sitting out all day.
i got my mexican roll, spicy california, and tamago (and ginger dressing-salad of course), took one look and knew i would be disappointed. in my experience the best tuna is always fairly bright, it looks fresh, like it was just stolen from the ocean. this was almost maroon. i thought maybe it was just a different kind of tuna that i wasn't familiar with, so i gave it a try. eh. i couldn't finish either of the rolls. i threw out about $8 worth of sushi, i was not happy. it was ok though, cause i went to sleep soon after so i wasn't left hungry for long . . .
which leads me to another low point of freakin' work life--the lack of time for anything other than work. granted, i've grown quite accustomed to the college lifestyle of sleep late, don't sleep much, go to class, work out, study, practice, meetings, and all sorts of other fun stuff . . . but that doesn't mean i can't adapt to a new lifestyle. however, workin' life sucks. you get up early, work alllllll day, get home at like 7. if you want to go work out or something, you have about 5 hours to do that, eat dinner, shower, and do anything else you want to do with your day (which is actually night by this point). that's so little time. i guess i understand the meaning and origin of "weekend warriors" now; they don't bother sleeping in cause it would eat into their 48 precious hours of unadulterated freedom.
fuck that, i'm sleepin til at least 11 to make up for the early weekdays. luckily, there's a dearth of natural light in my 'dungeon,' so my weekends are safe. . . for now.
i've always been fascinated by the amount of criticism people dish out to hip hop music for being "too violent, too thuggish, hateful, etc." i think the term hip hop is too general, we need more subcategories . . . think about it . . .you have everything from talib to tupac to tribe to ja rule to LL to missy to mary j. to def poetry to air jordans to kangols to air force ones to ice to platinum to 22s to escalades to 5% to . . . and a whole bunch of other shit that can be defined or classifed as "hip hop."
now i know that there are already some subdivisions (i.e. rap, gangsta rap, r&B, soul, etc.) but are they really strict enough or definitive enough to clearly determine what belongs where? i certainly don't think so. why does this matter in the grand scheme of things? simple, it's unfair to label a huge umbrella-like genre based on isolated incidents or characteristics of a small subset of the genre. you following?
here's an example of what i mean: as i mentioned before, people claim hip hop is too violent or preaches hate or whatnot. now maybe, maybe i could see someone's point if they only looked at the surface level of a lot of the shit that comes out of shit-factories like No Limit Records, for example (which is not so much violent, but certainly degenerate). but, i challenge someone to listen to talib kweli, mos def, tribe, or almost any def poet, and try to tell me that it's too violent, or hateful, or intolerant, etc.
angry, yes. hateful? hell no.
it's ironic in a way, because i don't know of many other music-based genres that 1) bring together as diverse a group of people who follow it or 2) produce as many socially conscious minds as hip hop does. the days of politically charged rock anthems or jams (i.e. bob dylan, bob marley, mavin gaye) are long gone from the mainstream it seems. nowadays it's rare that any mainstream music is about anything other than love, money, cash, hoes, angry and spiteful sons and daughters, or worse, bored sons and daughters with nothing else to write about. . .
i'm losing track of my point, but i'm pretty sure i mean to implore people to lay off labeling hip hop as the menace to society that turns our children from playground-going innocents into so called thugs on the street. while dreams of 22" sprewells certainly aren't helping the cause . . . neither are lackluster dreams of staying too-cool by remaining aloof forever. . . people can stand back and criticize all they want, but i bet more than half of those critics aren't doing anything to help their precious cause either. i'm probably one of them, ha.
i worked until 8pm today!! stop. let's reevaluate things here. i know all you real world working people are thinking: "8pm! thats nothing, i slept under my desk last night . . ." but, here's the kicker. you get PAID for your job working 12 hour days.
i do not.
to add to my dismay, i found out i might be working til 8 or 9pm on thursday. the last day of the week! the day before july 4!! man, this sucks. they should have put this in the job description.
i suppose it's good experience, but whatever, deez hours are nuts, i wasn't prepared for this. i'll deal. somehow. send flowers, it'll ease the pain.
meanwhile, this marks month number one living in my dungeon and i have yet to use a real piece of silverware. . . i never thought i'd live like the stereotypical single man once i was on my own. in general, i love to cook, so i figured once i didn't have any studying to do there'd be no stopping me from developing my culinary skills. however, there is one small obstacle that now stands between me and my own cooking show . . . no real grocery store in walking distance. and no car. . .
so . . .my cooking has been reduced to microwaved oatmeal in a plastic bowl eaten with a plastic spoon. pathetic i know, but a cereal dinner can actually be quite satisfying if eaten at the appropriate time.
