Journal Entry 7

Today there was a whole lot of nothing that went on, and I'm glad about it. Sort of. It was the kind of day that seems (in my mind) to be a repeat of many days since I've been in this apartment. Seemingly like the day just drifted by like a soft white cloud on a windy day. A moment here, and the next, gone.

Sitting In Starbucks

I'm a potential poser today! I came to meet a friend in the city and I'm sitting in the land of low fat milk and honey buns, waiting for him It's a great thing for people watchers, to grab a cup, sit facing the door and just watch. Of course, it's best to watch with the side-eye~~for fear of being found out that you're peeping tom ways are in effect.

So here I am, sitting next to two girls doing their school work to my left. Pretty girls...one a blond with a cute smile and wrapped in an old lady sweater, reminiscent of Mr. Rogers..except hers standard brown. She probably got it from her mother before moving away for college...brown, so that it matches with everything. Her friend sitting next to me is another seemingly innocent college student. One would never know that she had a tramp stamp that said 'take me' in old english lettering. A hidden slut. That's hot.

The guy next to me is interesting too. Except when he's singing to himself. Loudly. I'm not sure whether to put in my headphones and listen to my ipod. Should I drown out the Beatles blasting overhead, or his re-interpretation of 'Highway to Hell'. Hmmm....

I decide to sit here and type until he comes. I wonder if this is what the other people are doing on their laptops. Sitting,looking at me and blogging about what i'm wearing and the way I look. Looking for the slightest bit of awkward tic, so that they can right something funny or scathing for their friends to see and laugh. Right now, the girl across from me sipping on her iced coffee could be writing about all the crap that I laid out on this little table. Or the chinese guy in the corner could be blogging on how uncoordinated my clothes are...(if you know me, not a big surprise). I wonder what's going on in their brains, and what they could possibly be saying about the study parnters to the left of me or the never-going-to-be-a-rocker to my right.

I don't know, and frankly, I don't care. I like people watching. I like being a voyeur and looking at people who stare off into a distance...wondering what they are thinking of. Who they are thinking of, and if the miss them or not. A lost love? The nosy neighbor? Their stinkin' boss? I can only wonder. I wonder what people are doing on their computers. Are they just listening to music? Or are they writing the next great novel? Maybe a 'Dear John/Jane' email?

Please let me know though--if you read a blog about sitting in a Starbucks in Union Square and you read about a big guy clumsily spilling pumpkin latte on my shirt, let me know.

Taking A Backseat

There's times when I feel led to lead. Take the controls--jump in the drivers seat and put the pedal to the metal. I get a rush sometimes. Like when driving really fast, with the little thought in the back of your mind that you're breaking the law and living a little dangerously, that kind of rush. I feel empowered, and sometimes even powerful. As if I can do anything in the moment and it'll be okay.

Then there are times where I feel like just sitting in the passengers seat and leting someone else drive. I just want to buckle my belt and stare passionless at the passing surroudings. I just want to be taken to where I want to go. There's no attitude. There's no pretense. I'm not particularly relaxed--just content at being led.

That's how this trip was for me. I think I was able to listen to myself and do what I wanted to do, without any outside pressure to do certain things, go to places I didn't want to go, or meet people I didn't want to see.

I felt like I had a breakthrough.

Everytime I went back home, I put it upon myself to plan each and every day--to pack it with lunches, and dinners, coffee time and meeting time. It wasn't a vacation--it was a networking session. I used to leave vacation feeling tired. Fulfilled to some extent, since I was able to check-off all the things I had on my 'things-to-do' list. But none of it was really lasting. Honestly, I can't really tell you who I've spent time with on previous visits, even if you put a hot poker to my nostrils. But there was something about this trip that was rich. I feel full--satiated. Like I had a satisfying meal without overdoing it.

I got a chance to spend a lot of time with several people I didn't think I'd spend a lot of time with. These indivduals have contributed to my life either directly, or very indirectly. BUT, contributed, in a positive manner, nonetheless. It's a fantastic thing as I think about it. Two individuals are friends of my sister--one of which I've known for years. Only this trip was I able to enjoy and appreciate them. It really was an unexpected blessing that makes me smile even now. The other person I learned more about and truly learned to love, in a very short time. That's special.

The second couple is literally kin to me. I've known them for over 10 years. This year they told me they are leaving the islands for Las Vegas. I think about them not in Hawaii, and it sort of doesn't compute in my mind. It doesn't make sense. I guess I know how others in my family may have felt when I told them I was moving from the islands. I get it. So knowing this aforehand, I purposed to enjoy them up while I was in town. The next time I'd see them, they'd be transplants like me in the U.S. continent. I truly realized through this visit that family is not what you are born into--but is made up of who you include in your life. It's a wonderful revelation to me. Now that I've 'grasped' this understanding, I can always have 'family' with me, especially when my blood relatives aren't with me (physically, emotionally etc.). That's pretty comforting.

I had a great time with them.

The next individual I got a chance to reconnect with is a cousin that I've had a strange relationship for many years. Not uncomfortable or unpleasant. This cousin is younger, so always at the periphery in terms of family in my life. There, but not "there." You feel me. So I purposed to make sure that I was going to spend time with this cousin, so that I didn't go further in my life without giving this relationship a chance. I am so glad that I did that! What a great blessing and fantastic person! "Judge not, lest ye be judged" is what the Word says. These words have ringed true in my ears these past days. I'm thankful for the lesson, and the newfound relationship.

Finally, I was able to spend time with my dear younger sister. It's strange how our paths have crossed throughout the years. There is always that older sibling-younger sibling contention. But not even so much as contention, as it is just two kids who know a lot about each other than the other realizes, and the deep shared history that bonds them to each other. Each history rooted in an abiding love for each other. This can be fiery at times. I think I had a breakthrough, and I believe she did also--to be able to overlook our personality differences in the midst of borderline-argumetative situations, to calm down and relax and not snap. At least I've learned that. And I'm glad that I didn't handle things the way I used to handle them. It was through that exercise in self-control that I was able to grow, force myself to communicate through irritation in a kind way, and be a better person. I think my sister may have seen some of that. I'm sure she appreciated it also.

Through this trip, I found that in my life, a lot of times I instantly jump into the drivers seat. I believe God wanted to show me that this trip, I was to take a backseat and let Him lead me through each day. I was able to spend time in the islands by myself. And it was okay. It actually was great. I realize now that perhaps if I didn't take a backseat, then I would have missed out on 4 marvelously wonderful opportunities to connect with people in my life in a deeper way, and to truly express my love to these people in ways I never would have been able. In ways I never thought I'd be able to. I also learned that taking the backseat is a choice. If I want things to change in my life, I have to take the risk of letting God lead me. I know that if God is leading, it'll always end up for my good. This time I am thankful that I listened and moved over.

How much that cost?

A good life lesson I'm continually learning is determing my self-worth, and staying the course once that price has been established.

How many times have I had to stop myself from commiting myself to a job or volunteer for an activity. Then not to long after, I felt like I'd gotten myself into the middle of something that was bigger than I could handle. You feel me? For example, I get asked to volunteer with a project. First response-'Sure, no problem!' Happy inside to please the requestor, but still neva check the calendar yet. They walk away (hang up the phone, get off of the computer, etc.), THEN I realize/remember that I have something to do that particular time I just volunteered for. Of course, before my conversation ended, I was complimented on being so thoughtful and generous for helping/volunteering/giving something. Now, I feel guilty and like a jerk, since I just committed myself to something that I can't possibly back out of.

That's when the problems begin. For far too long, I've been writing checks that my ass can't cash.

Why?, you ask. Well, because at that point I'm usually trying to save face from having to back-out. 'And they said such nice things about me! I can't possibly back-out now. I can only imagine what they'd think of me then!'

That's the crazy thoughts going through my mind.

So what I do instead, is stress myself out, trying to figure out how i'm going to come up with something I can't possibly get/afford, or strategize on how I'm going to be at two places (sometimes I've triple booked!!) at the same time. (If I only believed in cloning---grrrr...). In my mind, all the stress is compounded by my yearning to stick to my word, as well as please the other person/people. In the end, I end up compromising my value and my self-worth by putting others before myself. Such wasteful and undue pressure is completely unnecessary and all stupid, because nobody put that on me. I did it!!!

Now, having a self-less outlook on life is admirable. I know that. It's a quality that not many posesses. But it also is something that can be accomplished without sacrificing personal peace. It is also something that determines the way in which you are perceived.

I'm the first to believe in the principles of sacrifice, selflessness, commitment and honor. I believe in these values and know that I try to exemplify them in my life. Having said that, I also have learned that I can do nothing for others if I'm no good to myself. In this lesson learned, I've also developed a healthy dose of shutting my mouth and self-control. I get it--if I can't do, give, volunteer, help out, or entertain it, it's not happenin'.

So how much does stress and anxiety cost? Well buddy, that's free. All it takes is a loose tongue and little scruples.

List Of A Few Things That Are "Real"

A Hang-Nail.

It may seem like nothing in comparison to a skinned knee, but pull off that little piece of skin, and see if you can ignore the pain.

A Mother's Touch.

Say what you will, especially if you don't have a great relationship with your mother--or your father, for that matter. But there is nothing that can replace the hug, or the gentle touch from your mother.

Baby Talk.

My niece is getting older by the second. (Well, aren't we all?!?) And nothing makes me fall in love with family more than hearing her baby talk. From calling me 'Ato' (uncle) or wishing me a 'Hatty Berday', it always warms my heart.

Making My Family Laugh.

It's a great sense of accomplishment I get when I make the people who know me best, laugh. It's easy for me to piss them off. They know this, I know this, it's been established. So for me to be able to get them to forget the rotten person I can be and just let out a big fat chuckle~that's a natural high.

Oh, The Weather Outside Is (fill in the blank).

From the balmy breeze off the Pacific ocean, a windy day on a Chicago Avenue, the humidity from the streets of a New York summer or the cool rain drizzling in the Pacific Northwest, there is no denying how perceptible and convincing the weather can be.

Two All-Beef Patties, Special Sauce, Lettuce, Cheese, Pickled Onions on a Sesame Seed Bun.

Who has ever been hungry? So hungry that 2 Big Mac's can't cure? If you've felt the pangs of hunger, then you know what real is.

Where's The Bathroom!

I have a routine everyday. Around 4:30pm, I peel myself from behind my desk and hit the lua. There have been days where I haven't, and abruptly left the office at 5pm running to catch the bus. And have I been sorry!

The Miracle on (fill in the blank) Street.

Found money in your pocket when you needed it most? Had someone treat you to a meal when you had nothing to eat? Had someone help you without asking, at a time you felt like giving up? That's the evidence that miracles exist, and that evidence makes it real.

I was at work and someone asked me a question, and told me to 'keep it real.' I agree. During very stressful times like these, it is important to remain vigilant and be awake regarding life issues. Aware of the stressors that may overwhelm you, but most important, to put all of that into perspective. Recognizing that although the issues in your life are actual and exist, the things that 'REAL'ly matter, are the things that require our attention, and essentially our focus. If someone tells you to 'keep it real,' a suggestion to you is to take a moment to think on things that are real to you. Then focus on the good things that you thought of. Hopefully that will make your day go a little easier and your stress, not that burdensome.

Philippians 4:8 (Amplified Bible)
For the rest, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is worthy of reverence and is honorable and seemly, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely and lovable, whatever is kind and winsome and gracious, if there is any virtue and excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think on and weigh and take account of these things [fix your minds on them].

Busy, Busy

"Being still is seen as an interruption instead of an invitation."

I just read this in an article this morning and it made me wonder how many times I get so busy doing things that it becomes the 'norm'. I get unnerved when I find myself with a few hours of quiet time. I realize that it's because I've become so accustomed to the noise in the office and the noise on the streets, and the noise of my life--that when it gets quiet in my apartment I don't know how to function.

I usually turn on the t.v. in one room and a radio in the other to fill the silence with something. Noise. Anything. I realize right now that I've become this way because I've lost my appreciation for quiet time.

When I was taking care of my mom and it was just she and I in the house, it was quiet. I'd read a little, talk a little, then just relax and do nothing for a little. It was easy to calm down and enjoy the silence because it was a normal thing to do. Where did my respect for the quiet time go? Have I become too consumed with being busy, that any time that is not occupied with something, I get nervous?

That's not good. I can name at least 5 people who would give an arm or leg to have some 'me time.' I'm reminded now about something that came to me while I was praying a few years go. I wanted to call and speak to somebody to pass the quietness, but the people who had the time to talk were the ones I didn't really want to talk to, and those who I wanted to talk to weren't available. Just before anxiety was about to overwhelm me with boredom, a quiet voice I heard in my spirit said, 'talk to Me.' I knew instantly it was the voice of the Lord calling.

I took some time to just sit and relax. tried my best to clear my mind of all thoughts and I listened to the quietness of the moment. And though it seemed to be a very long time to just sit and listen, it was probably only about 30 minutes. I found myself having the time to just talk to God. To ask His opinion on things I was thinking of. Talk about the things I was worried or afraid of. I didn't hear an audible voice, but I remember feeling refreshed. Feeling a sense of peace that my soul really needed.

What I need now is that same refreshing. That same renewing sense of calm and assurance that only God can give. Thinking about all of this makes me appreciate the quiet time I find this week at the hotel. I realize this is my time to contemplate the thoughts that flood my mind and steal my peace. And to be reminded that this invitation I have to rejuvenate myself is a gift that I should enjoy. Perhaps this is yet another appointed moment to talk to God and let Him speak while I stop the noise making and just listen. Perhaps this is yet another opportunity that I am being afforded to sit and rest. I think I'll do it.

When you can, take some time out to let God refresh you too. Accept any invitation for quiet time you get, and relax a little. All I can say now is, Speak Lord.

Many Things Going On...

Really...can anyone relate?!?

Of course you can. If you've been alive for the last month, 'change'--the moniker greatly overused for the last 24 months, is actually coming true. There have been a lot of changes. For one thing--with all the problems that this country is in, it's nice to see that the President feels comfortable in taking some time off to party with Stevie Wonder. I wish I had the time. Well, I did get to go back to Hawaii for a week. But of course, I don't have my own jumbo jet or tricked out helicopter, so I guess he still trumps me. Ah well, I'm not in a race with him.

Speaking of Hawaii, I did get a chance to lay out in the sun for awhile.Got some color back to my face. Which is a good thing. tend to 'white out' when I don't get a lot of sun. It's not uncommon for most people. It just doesn't look right on me. Fo' real. So much so that my wise-cracking niece or nephew take sarcastic pleasure in voicing their opinion. Hmm...opininated sarcasm~wonder where they get that from?

In those brief moments of enjoying the beautiful sands and calm, clear waters of Ko Olina, Cove 2, I was able to reset some buttons in my life. There aren't a lot of times that people get a chance to do that. Some people call it 'alone time'; others take sabbaticals; whatever your preference, I suggest you take some time off to reset yourself.

I have this neighbor~she lives next door. Her name is Carmella. I ran into her one afternoon coming up the stairs and helped her carry this baby in a stroller that she was pulling up the first flight. She was pleasant. Welcomed me to the building, and told me that I looked like the baby's physical therapist. 'He's black and dominican-you look just like him,' she said.

Wow. Okay. I usually get filipino or mexican.

I've seen her a few more times since. Each time, walking up the steps with the baby who's therapist I resemble. "Did I tell you that you look like his therapist?" she says.

Yes, maam I say. (Rolling my eyes on the inside) I brush it off as her friendly awkward banter. She doesn't know me and she's trying to make convesation, I think. That's nice.

So I get home tonight and see a UPS note on my door. I fumble with my bag, mail, groceries and my bundled up body to get in. I notice as I get in the door that the note says that Carmela accepted the package.

That's sweet. It's almost 7:45pm, and I don't know if she's already sleeping. So I close the door behind me and settle in for the night. Maybe I'll see her in the morning on the stairs. If not, I'll get it after work tomorrow, is what i'm thinking.

I'm in the middle of CSI:Las Vegas. The new one with Cowboy Curtis. I haven't invested any energy into his character, but Catherine Willows (Marge Helgenberger) is my favoite person...I love her snarky smile. I'm jealous. It's a smile I'm trying to master. My doorbell rings.

Hard.
RING, RING, RING, RING!!

What the hell!?! That better not be that South Korean grandma, or I swear...(see previous blog for the joke)

Oh no, it's not Cha--but it is Carmela...in her Bronx version mu'u...and she looks completely annoyed.

Uh, Hi, I say.

"So what, you don't want your package?! You're not gonna come get it?! Next time I won't accept it for you then!," she spits out. She said it all in one breath. I was surprised that she had the lung capacity for that much air at one time. She also said it in a tone as if I'd taken her away from her Fashion meetings or from teaching her make-up application classes.(Obvious sarcasm) At this point, I wasn't sure whether I should cuss her out, ignore and politely thank her and get the box, or slingshot Goliath in the forehead. I chose option 2.

The oddest thing about the scene is that she stared at me as if I owed her. Seriously, as if I was supposed to pull out my wallet and give her something. A tip, perhap. I ended up stuttering some weird apology for not picking it up from her earlier (to which she gave me a stern, disapproving look) and carried the box out of her doorway. I felt harrassed and caught off guard and like I was just scolded like a chile. So I did all that I could do--I shot her a Marge smile.

I got some satisfaction out of that.

I don't plan on getting much delivered to my doorstep for a little while. Bitch will probably have UPS take it back. I wonder if Barack has to worry about this sort of shit?
Damn it...beat again.

Pulling A Rabbit Out Of The Kitty Cat

I had surgery on my eye. Not recently, but historically. I actually had a cornea replaced. It's one thing to have to go through surgery . It's another to have to be awake and SEE the surgery performed. To me, that's treacherous. But corneal transplant is still considered relatively common. It's treated as an outpatient surgery that doesn't require a night in the hospital. This is considered "non-invasive surgery". That's a good thing. The surgeon didn't put anything in my body cavity besides a healthier perspective and respect for the medical profession.

What is the definition of "invasive surgery?" Invasive surgery involves making an incision in the patient's body and inserting instruments or other medical devices into it. By definition, this type of surgery is much more serious. The recovery time is usually a little longer than non-invasive surgery because it usually requires at least an overnight stay in a hospital. Also, surgeries that require the opening of the body lend greater possibilities of infection, rejection of implants, or other post-operative complications. In the end, invasive surgeries from a financial standpoint is much costlier. So it's the trend for the healthcare industry and medical profession to encourage alternative, innovative methods of performing surgeries that have the least potential for post-op complications, promote quicker recovery time, and, in the end, is much more cost effective.

click and read:http://www.cnn.com/2009/HEALTH/02/03/kidney.vagina.surgery/index.html

I cannot imagine puling a major organ out of an existing orifice. Can you? Thinking about it makes me quesy. What organ would you choose to pull out of your Whoo-Haa? What if you don't have a Whoo-Haa--where's the organ coming through?

I really have nothing else to add, after you read it. Except, well...the title to this blog says it all. It's fascinating that our healthcare system is continually looking for cheaper ways to perform invasive surgery. Cause that's what it all boils down to in the end..the cost.

I'm trying to think now what organ is close to the buttock...? Hmmm....

People Are Off

I'm on the plane waiting to take off from Newark, New Jersey - making my not-so-surprise trek back to the islands. And the 7 dwarves are with me on the flight!

Yes, they have left the Enchanted Forest and are too, now frequent fliers. Apparently they are on vacation.

Who knew?

Behind me sat Stinky. Boy he fits his moniker to a T. He smells like a block of Brie fermenting in a can of sardines. So potent is his stench, that I'm surprised he hasn't been arrested and charged with armed-pit robbery. Stink bastard!!

Next to him sat Dull Dwarf. Her sense of smell has been compromised for so many years, that her odiferous senses have slowed. But it's heightened her other senses. Particularly her ability to speak--in a shrieking whine. I think the term is 'high-pitched shrill.' The likes of which only can be discerned and deciphered by baby porpoise', gnats' and any woman from Long Island.

They sat together the entire flight and complained. The water was too warm. The plane was too slow. The airline waitress was a bitch. The pilot was a dumb ass. These dwarves were very ornery. Nothing like a long flight with unsatisfied halflings.

In front of me sat Sneezy. So cute and quiet, however rife with allergies that rivaled a classromm of non-peanut eating preschoolers. She was the living, breathing, walking plague. I thought this could potentially turn into a Code yellow haz-mat situation. I haven't seen that much phlegm and goo since they pulled Carol Anne out of the closet. Sneezy was at least polite. She covered her mouth prior to every unleashing of germs. But she still was biologically lethal.

Politeness, however, isn't the testimony of Effie the effiminate Dwarf. He's rude, but he thinks he's a Diva (as if it's cute for a white-haired 60+ year old saggy bottom man calling himself a Diva is cute). Ahem.

Everyone on the plane is somewhat agitated, having already logged in an hour and a half waiting for clearance to fly. Everyone is on edge. But Diva - I mean Effie, doesn't give a shit. Effie is on his knee's leaning over the back of his chair facing his girlfriend in the row behind him, cracking his gum and making comments about others around him in spanish.

Effie is a bitch.

His girlfriend - a slight woman with a strong latin accent, is someone who is purely ornamental in life. She's the reason prenuptial agreements were created. She's gorgeous to look at...eye candy so sugary sweet it'll give your vision diabetes. Her one flaw (or perhaps her one talent) would be that her knee's can touch her nose while sitting. I'm not kidding. She's doing it right now. She's bendy--Bendy Dwarf. And Bendy's been around.

Across the aisle from Stinky is the most unusual character I've seen yet. Suspicious Dwarf. Perhaps you've seen this one on a flight. Suspicious is very sneeky looking. The only reason why I say that she's sneeky is because she only looks at people through the corners or top portion of her eyes. Sort of like those teachers who wear their glasses low on the bridge of their nose so that they can look over them while throwing you a disapproving glance. That's Suspicious. She became more ominous as the plane ride continued because she would look arond, reach into her shoe, and look around again. Real 'i'm-not-a-terrorist-so-stop-looking-at-me-while-I-ominously-reach-for-my-shoe' cagey like. I kept my eye on her the entire way to the islands, and even flexed my big body in her direction as if to say, 'Don't mess with this damn plane while I'm on it, woman or you will get hurt.'

I have my fits of bravery once in a while.

The last and least Dwarf that I identified on the flight was none other than Dopey. Yes, Dopey, with the ears that could glide us into the ocean should the wings or engine give out. His ears were so big, that I sear it had its own gravitational pull. The worst thing about Dopey's ears, is that I could see the hairs in his ear from my seat--and he always rubbed the back of it and put that finger up to his nose. Yes, that's what I said. Dopey sniffed his ear funk throughout the flight.

Besides my Captain America glances that I shot to Suspicious, I was on a flight that was to be remembered, and begging to be memorialized in a blog. It is at the point that we landed, that I could sigh in relief that we made it safely, and where I could exclaim out loud while stretching, 'People Are Off!'

Effie snickered in my direction.

I soooo wanted to kick his ass.

And No (A'ole)...

I will not stop using 'haole.' Would you dare ask another native peoples to stop using their language?

Oh wait-you already have.

How can I forget that you feast on hypocritically telling others how they should live, all the while plotting and scheming to overthrow their way of life. Let me consult the Native Americans, the Iraqi people, or the African-American.

You are a hypocrite when you push your lifestyle of fantasy and decadence in your commercials of the 'good life.' But never reveal the underbelly of its oppressive seediness it leaves behind, until it reveals itself in the end when it is too late.

You will not tell me that in the land of the free and the home of the brave, the land of freedom of speech and choice~that I cannot use my own language to describe you.

No, I will not 'teach' you or try to persuade you as to why its not a bad word. Go find out for yourself. You stress how much education one should have--an honorable deed on the surface.But I think this is yet another way for you to divide and alienate people--another shadow of classism. If education is so important, then educate yourself (!!) on native peoples of this world. Open your mind and discover the richness of cultures outside of your own. If you are so free as you proclaim (and are amongst peoples who aren't), then use your freedoms to learn rather than using it to suppress. What is your problem?

You will not make me to feel ashamed of speaking my language. I don't care what you say. You created nigger. You created chink. You created gook. You created kyke. You created faggot. You created jap. You bastardized good words in return, like pineapple and gay. And now you want to try and stop Hawaiians from using their words. For the record, haole is not like any of these words you created.

Hypocrite. Hewa!

You get offended because 'haole' represents a word that appropriately applies to you. You were a foreigner to us when you arrived. The word denotes many things:

1. You are no native to this 'aina. This pisses you off becaus eyou then cannot lay claim to this 'aina. Justice is not on your side. You realize that what you did to the Native Americans and the Eskimos cannot so easily be accomplished here. Your precedents is known, thus you cannot use the same tricks because your game has been uncovered and revealed;

2. You don't have the support of any (if not all) rational thinking people who have been colonized. You cannot so easily make us your enemy because most reasonable thinking people understand that to kill a language is to kill a people~that would be an outward appearing declaration of war against unarmed individuals~and we know you are al about appearances;

3. Vanity-pure and simple. 'Haole' is a word you didn't come up with. It's meaning is purposeful, apparent and powerful, and this angers you. You realize that as much as you tried to erase the Hawaiian culture and replace it with your homogonized version complete with how you 'saved the heathens from hell,' you couldn't.

We have thrived and have become educated under you watchful eye. All you have done is awakened a cunning native thathas alays been present, just dulled and sleeping.

You have awoken the Hawaiian Warrior within. Armed with your education and generations of maa. A'ole, haole. You do not win. You tried to kill us off by killing our language before. There is nothing new under the sun.

So why would you think that we'd be so slothful as to forget. You think that people's forget? You do, don't you? A'ole - YOU always forget. That's why you always recycle the same tactics. There is nothing new under the sun.

We remember. And we thrive.

So a'ole haole. As the native peoples of every country in every culture have somehow continued to grow and live, so will we. The nazi's couldn't kill the Jews. Neither could the Japanese exterminate the Okinawans.

Hawaiians will continue to teach and nourish our keiki with our Hawaiian-ness.And no haole, foreign or domestic, will hunder us.

Pre-conditioned, Post-Arrival

Hawaii has been in the forefront in many respects when it come to tourism. Specifically, American tourism. From the earliest of my memories, hearing stories of how the steam ships would entice the haole to our shores with our fragrant pua and alluring wahine curves ~ the power of the haole currency has been a source of Hawaiii economy (notice I didn't say Hawaiian) and the poison of Hawai'i's Kanaka Maoli.

From a child I was told that my paternal grandfather - a full-blooded maka'ainana- believed the full potential of his existence (through the eyes of the Hawaiian slave owner) was to be either a taxi driver or a bell hop at the all haole hotels in Waikiki. I in turn was raised by parents who were conditioned into believing that the best and brightest hawaiians were those that towed the line - conformed to the haole identity of little houses with white picket fences. The American dream of opportunity was reserved for only attainable if you knew the right people, or if you didn't rock the boattoo much. On the contrary-if you accepted and took the blue pill and assimilated to the haole's plan of what was best for you, things wouldn't be so bad. You might make it.

The American dream in my hale wasn't one of success and riches. It was a story of servitude and submimssion, It was a dream that epitomized the original glass ceiling. You could see that the sky truly was limitless. However the glass roof was as thick as a full-grown banyan tree and hovered closely above the heads of the kanaka maoli.

As I sit on this aircraft making my pilgrimage back to my home, the place where the iwi of my ohana feed the aina, I think these thoughts. As I return to the place of my formative years where I learned to become a Hawaiian-American man. This place where I understood an first realized that my potential, despite the years of pre-conditioning to 'kick back and no make waves but go with the flow', is only truly stifled if I accept the limits that the haole-fied per-conditioned elders of my past espoused.

I finally realize that as a full-grown Hawaiian man, it is my duty to all other kanaka maoli of my koko to reject the thoughts that dare tell me that I am less then others. I will remind myself that I come from a lineage of hard working, industrous explorers.

The koko that runs through these veins bears the weight of warriors, kings, scholars and poets. I will not conform to any haole telling me that I am not Hawaiian because I speak up for myself. On the contrary, I am a coward from birth if I don't speak up. Kanaka maoli have lasted thus far in spite of every carnal attack from the idealisms and colonial thinking of every non-hawaiian that has occupied these islands who said that Hawaiians are lazy and stupid. I reject that! Devil, I rebuke you and your lies! And you are the stupid one if you think in this day and age, your same lame tactics will work on all of us. Hawaiians have traversed the previously uncharted Pacific seas to conduct world-class expeditions. All without the modern marvels and comforts of modern day nautical technolog And unlike the haole tactic of subversively undermine, assimilate, negate, then conquer--the warriors settled dispute more honorably. Combat. You knew where you stood. The were confrontational when it was warranted. If you were wrong, you were confronted. In today's vernacular, they 'kept it real'.

There are many traditions that have been lost. So much more that have been altered or changed to suit each generation. But there has always been one constant idealism from the first haole visitor. It has been the insidious idea that Hawaiians were put on this earth to serve. (In retrospect and looking at world history, this is common to the haole 'overthrow' mentality.) When I use the term 'serve,' I refer to the type of service that haole defines as 'the one with the big stick makes the rules--he who has the most things wins.' I was not put on this earth as a Hawaiian man to serve no one and nothing, but the purpose of God. To Him alone is my total submission given. I relinqush all my personal authority to Him. And if within this endeavor it becomes my conscious obligation and heavenly call to serve man as unto Him (and I know that it is in many respects), this I will eagerly and with my entire being do.

However-

I no longer will buy into the small lying voice that has always visited me, whispering that if I want to be a 'good hawaiian' or a 'better christian hawaiian' that I am to always choose the smaller portion of life's makana because of antiquated lies and thoughts that told me from small kid days that that's all that I could have. That that's all that I was worth. I reject that thinking from today on. I am embued by Ke Akua and strengthened by the rich heritage of ali'i, farmers, sailors, kahu, business men and women and a line of sojourners stretching back to the cradle of civilization. Kanaka Maoli - don't believe the lies of them that say you are not worthy. That malciously steal your kindness and create spears out of your ho'okupu and generous na'au to use against you. This is not my cry or a call to physically arm yourself against a physical opponent. Although the devil takes many guises.

Rather, this is a clarion call to rise up out of your apathetic slumber to take your place as the modern-day Hawaiian warrrior, to reflect the legacy of proud, goodly people, wise to the wiles of those who only see you as poor, dumb or subserviant. Rise up and kulia i ka nu'u. Look to the promise of the next rising sun for strength in mind, and remain steadfast. E'o, ka lahui.

Llewellyn

Llewellyn was a very quiet kid. I remember that about him like it was yesterday. Oddly enough, I don't remember much about his character or personality. He was the same age as me and we were both in the same class for 5th and 6th grade in Elementary school. He was small. He always had short hair, and I think one of his parents was in the military. I think that's what brought them him to the islands. I think he had a younger brother. The only thing I really can recall when thinking on what kind of person he was, is that he was very quiet, and soft-spoken and I think he had an accent. I dont remember his last name.

But I remember him every so often. I see him in my memory, just standing and smiling. He has a pair of brown shorts and he has an oversized backpack. Barely able to hold it up, as he has skinny legs and a thin frame, his short curly hair shiny from some hair product. I remember he was a really nice kid, and he always had a wide smile.

Thing is, about 17 years ago, I had been searching around the internet and discovered that Llewellyn had died. I recall hearing somehow that he had been hurt in an accident. The details are sketchy, but in the end it doesn't really matter. He hasn't been alive for a long time now.

I don't know why I think about him. I never really knew him besides the little I can recall now. But I do think about him. And when I do, I wonder what kind of person he would be today? What kind of life would he have led? Why wasn't he able to make it to his 20th high school reunion? Many of the 'what could have been' questions come to mind.

How many Llewellyn's do you know? Those individuals that you may not have known well, but passed way too soon. So early, that the loss is not felt because of a personal relationship, but because Innocence is the real victim. And that loss is hard to comprehend and tough to get over.

I hope that wherever his parents are, they know that even after these many years, there are people who remember their son. And that the memory of their son is a good one.

Around, Around (Crescendo)

Kieffer and I were headed to IKEA and he put in a mixed CD he made. I hate to admit that there are things that I don't like to be taught. One of them is hearing about new music from other people. Especially Kieffer. Mainly because I'm ridiculously competitive about irrelevant things. One of which is hearing about the newest music from Kieffer, that also turns out to be really good music.


I like to surprise people with new music and I like the feeling of sharing great songs or sweet melodies with fantastic lyrics to people I love. I like to see their reactions, especially if they like it too. And I love it when people are able to feel the emotions and experience the music in its fullness--music has a way of reaching into souls. It is something that is such a strange but beautiful phenomenon. You can hear a song and within a few notes remember some of the worst moments of your life. Or hear the beginnings of a tune and taste the first cotton candy you had as a child; hear the 'i like you too' from your first crush; the smell of rotten eggs from the last day of school egg fights; or relive the first dance at your first dance that no adults were at. All of our senses are stirred and come alive at the stirring sounds of music.


I love that music provides this to everyone. And so that's why I feel like I'm in friendly competition with Keiffer when it comes to new music. He likes to one-up me every chance he can, and I find great fun in doing the same.


That's why I was pleasantly surprised when he popped in his CD and pressed play. I was overwhelmed with what I heard. What I heard is the song to the right, K'Jon singing 'On The Ocean.' Take a listen.

(Pause)


K'Jon is a Detroit native who's songs and style can be characterized as Soul/Hip-Hop/R&B. The song to the right transported me to a point of my trip when I was in Hawaii in September. Where the Sand met the Ocean, and the Ocean ended in the Horizon. This song doesn't take me to an exact spot on the islands, though. Moreso, it transports me to a time in my mind that I haven't been to, but sounds familiar. Hearing the melody and allowing the blending of the percussions and his voice wash over me, this song makes me feel - resolute. Yep, resolute is how I feel. I honestly didn't know the right word to describe the emotion that this song gave me, but I realize the more I hear it, I feel 'convinced, satisfied'. The way the song ebbs and flows easily and the way the crescendo of the cymbals punctuates the high-notes, creates a mood that is oh, so wonderful.

As we were driving, I told him that if I died..err..when I died, (i'm not a pessimist, i'm a realist), i'd really like to have this song be my 'swan song'. It'd be a perfect ending to a not so perfect life. but it would be a song that would leave my loved ones with something hopeful. In my eyes and what I believe, this life is the ocean meeting the horizon--you may not see what's beyond, but surely you must know that there is something beyond the horizon. I believe that beyond my horizon , where the ocean meets the sun, so will I. And that gives me hope, which is why I am filled with so much hope listening to this song.

I hope you enjoy it.

Aaliyah Was Right...

If at first you don't succeed, dust yourself off and try again. You can dust it off and try again, try again...

And so it goes.

I was browsing articles as I do, and I came across this one. This is a classic!

http://news.yahoo.com/s/afp/20090205/od_afp/skoreamotoringoffbeat_20090205024852

771 times! I think of all the times I've given up. All the times I tried to jump that hurdle in Junior high in m baggie jeans when I was an overweight teen, awkward and a mess. Forced to participate in track, even with a note and the inappropriate clothing. That damn gym teacher made me jump the hurdle. And I kept falling because I couldn't lift my back leg. And after the 4th time of falling in a ball of dust and a puddle of shame, the spawn of the devil (aka P.E. Teacher) begrudgingly and in visible disgust waved me off like I was flies at a picnic. At Orchard beach. In mid-July on a hot Bronx afternoon. I hope you get the picture.

771 times! What have you done in your life that's tested your stamina and strengthened your perseverance? She did this on a regular basis too! I know I would have probably given up. I can't even be consistent enough to take out the trash daily. Don't ask. I can't even commit to a toothpaste. (It's whatevers on sale.) I thought of the countless number of times I've gotten so frustrated trying to pay my Optimum cable bill and had to redial again and again to get some human interaction. I usually stopped after 4 representatives, then sent my payment in five checks as a way of paying them back for making me wait so long. (Vindictive, right?!?) I don't see myself having that much patience. But that much time given to accomplishing a goal is true dedication. That's fortitude. That is medal worthy!

I love the portion of the article that describes the 68-year old woman as seeking her license because "Cha sells food and household items door to door at apartment complexes, carrying the items in a handcart, but wants to get a car for her business."

Okay.

I think for a few obvious reasons, there should be a time in which someone sane and, frankly, sick of seeing her in the Driving Office, will need to make an executive decision on this matter. After all, let's examine the facts:

*She's 68-years old. No one in America, at 68, is either looking for a license, or trying to keep a job. And if they are, they are in public office running for the next term or just got laid off from puttng in good hours at their job for 30+ years that they lost to outsourcing to India or the Phillipines, and now is trying to fight 4 other 68-year olds for that last job handing out smiley stickers at the Wal-Mart door.

*She sells food and household items DOOR TO DOOR. I live in the Bronx. Anyone trying to come to my door, no matter what time of day, will be greeted by a bat and a very pissed off voice filled with faux rage and uncertain hesitance. And the last thing I want to hear on the other side of my door is a foreigner with an accent trying to sell me batteries or DVD's. I get enough of that on the 6 train. Of course, they may be running for office, but still. A bat will be in hand if you came knocking.

*She's averaged "scores of 30-50 whereas the pass mark is 60 out of 100." At some point, I would hope that short-term memory would kick into long-term memory. Or hopefully the odds of relevant memorization would occur. Say, around the 418 mark. And if for some unfortunate reason this doesn't happen, especially in this case, it may be because A) You're 68, or B) You're already working too hard going from door to door each day with a cart on your back, and it's probably best that you take a break, or stop taking the test?!?

Hmmm. Just my humble observation and opinion. However in the final analysis, I am not a dream killer, and don't want to be the bearer of discouragement. To that, I say 'Go for it, Cha! You can do it, and as long as you have the opportunity and tenacity, I wish you the best.'

But all I'm saying is, if you do finally pass the test on chance # 772, I don't want to be on the road when you have your wares in tow.

That's all I'm saying about it.

Laughing At Yourself

I think this is one of the best qualities someone should have in order to make it through these tough economic days. I think if you don't cultivate the ability to put things into perspective and still enjoy life despite things that are going on, then things will just get tougher.


Here's a few things you can do to crack yourself up and lighten the load of daily life. I've tried these suggestions, so don't worry about it~it has been tested and no animals were harmed.

1. If you like to embarass yourself for 'fun,' eat a banana with coffee and a lot of cream in the morning. Then wash that down with Activa yogurt (any flavor--be creative and add Fiber One to it) and a Bran muffin. Once you've done all of that, drink two 12-ounce glasses of water, then jump on any public bus during traffic hour and let the party commence! Let me tell you--you'll discover a newfound appreciation and respect for the people who make Depends undergarments.

2. If you're not very fond of crapping in your pants, then have I got something equally entertaining for you, and another opportunity to make a memory for life. If you have to make a choice between wearing unflattering boots that are made to walk in ice and snow OR sport a stylish pair of leather boots that should only be worn when you get out of the limo on the red carpet to the front door of the venue---choose fashion! That way, when you fall on your ass in the middle of the busy streets of Manhattan, at least the passersby get to look at something pretty flailing in the air.

3. If you don't think that supporting the troops by providing public entertainment and making a spectacle of yourself is for you, then how about this? Stand in any line where people are waiting for a bus or at the grocery store, and just fart. Go ahead. Pull your own finger, and squeeze the cheese. Sure, you'll get lot of dirty looks, but you will have brought people together for a common purpose and goal--to keep away from your stanking behind. I know you'll have to face the wrath and disdain of those around you. But think of how much faster the line will move. And what about doubling all the fun by whipping your camera phone out and just start snapping away, taking pictures of the people giving you dirty looks. You'll be able to take deep whiffs if yourself while capturing the moment on film. You may not get away unscathed at that point, but think of all the kodak moments. They will be worth a thousand words, or at least a few fingers! This may not get you a cab, but it should provide you with enough memories to pass the time while you recover in the hospital.

Laughing at yourself--it's a character trait that everyone should have.

You're As Big As A Planet Fitness

"If I can just make it past the first 8 minutes, i'll be okay...." I said, panting and crying deeply inside. If my mouth was any wider, I'd probably be able to smuggle the eliptical machine I was toiling on, back to my apartment.

That's the thought I kept 'encouraging' myself with. And its always the first several minutes that I need to push through before I feel good enough to hang on and finish my workout. Y'all know how hard it is. I've been celebrating the little victories more and more since I started going back to the gym. It's called Planet Fitness and its at the end of my block, not more than 7 minutes away. It's open 24 hours betweeen Monday through Friday, so I have no excuses.

I asked the polling question because I'd like to know how many of you are actually on a program. I read on Bastyr University's website an article stating that in 2007, about 50% of Americans who start an exercise program as part of their new years resolution, discontinue it in six weeks. So the odds are against you as it is. The article goes on to site 4 tips of maintaining your new found health goal. Here they are:

1. Research~Collect information about your body before you start exercising. This means, take your ample okole to the doctor if you must (or jump on the scale they have at the supermarket--lets see just how tough you really are) and get your vitals. Weight, heart rate, body fat content and use that as your baseline. Research DOES NOT mean for you to check and see how much cookies you can eat to replace the calories you burned.

2. Relax~Be sure to set attainable short- and long-term goals. Remember that fitness is an ongoing pursuit. Don't beat yourself up. You didn't gain that weight over night, so don't expect to lose it overnight. It took you a good--4 weeks?!? Know for sure that you need to relax because it's gonna be a loooooonng time before you see your feet again. Don't be discouraged, fatty.

3. Have A Backup Plan~There will be days that it will be inconvenient or impossible to do your fitness routine. An alternate exercise plan can ensure you get some form of exercise. Walk home from work. The farther you live, the better. That's maybe 2, 3 days of workouts you're storing up! Carry your co-workers around the office. Piggy back your boss! You may get a raise out of it. Be creative.

4. Adjust Your Attitude~Instead of thinking of exercise as a chore or an obligation, try a new perspective. Think of all the fantastic clothes you'll be able to wear off the rack. Or all of the wonderful quilts you'll be able to create with your old clothes. Better yet, you could probably open your own business covering cars with that party dress you've been wearing. And you know you guys can finally get rid of that puka underwear to wash your cars. Exercise shouldn't be a chore--it should be the means to vanity! (just kidding)

Whatever your plans are, I hope and pray that you get the best results and that you never give up. Always look on the bright side of life! No matter how big you are, the earth will always be bigger than you, so you'll always have a home. Good luck, and keep me posted. I'll do the same.

Hug Your Kids If You Have Them...With A Slippah In Hand If You Must

'Children are out of control these days.'

Yeah, I know. That's something old people say. A small part of me hates to admit it, but Yes, I'm old, and Yes, I said it. Kids these days need to be checked.

'Checked' is an urban slang word meaning to put someone in their place, as in, "best check yo self, before you reck yourelf" (urbandictionary.com). And checked is what needs to be done with children in this day and age, who have grown up in homes where parents are straight up idiots. I'm cognizant of the fact that kids today grow up in a world that is not the same as the world people my age grew up in. You may have seen that chain email showing how kids growing up now have never known a world without microwaves, cell phones or cable television. All of these things seem like advantages that would make a better child. Not so much. In fact, it seems that children have gotten worse then my days growing up.

'Well you don't have kids of your own, Fourth Oldest! You don't know what you're talking about. Wait till you have some of your own, then tell me a thing or two about raising kids." I know, I hear some of you saying that.

The thing though, is I don't need to have children in order to know how children should act. I was a child once. (A few reading this probably think that things haven't changed much.) I know when I was checked. And when I was checked, I knew exactly why I was checked. And my parents weren't the kind who tolerated foolishness. My dad and mom didn't beat my brothers and sisters without cause. There was always a cause. 'Cause I had to tell you more than once' was a cause. 'Cause when I said so once, that should've been enough' was a cause. 'Why? BeCause' was a cause. So on and so forth.

I saw this video today, and it just made me want to choke a child into Thursday. Watch this, then read on.

http://cosmos.bcst.yahoo.com/up/player/popup/?rn=4226712&cl=11686108&src=news

Uh Hmmm. Did you see that? Did you hear the set-up by the newscaster, then see the young boy? How many cracks does it take to get to the center of obedience with this child. The shocking part is, it seems the firefighters are still in the middle of rescuing the mother (who is still 80 feet below from where they are standing), the father says he was worried the entire time that the boy was on land above by himself. Then, (as most undisciplined kids do)the kid in the midst of all of this tries to get some camera time. Incredulous, right? How many of you bet that those parents are currently being monitored by Child Protective Agency for fear that they will beat that boys okole until he speaks clearly.

This is just one reason why I think that Bernie Mac had it right when he said that he believes that when a kid gets one years old he has a right to hit 'em in the throat or the stomach. If he's grown enough to talk back, he's grown enough to get F&%$@* up. Although, in this case, it looks like the father needs some training on parenting. Didn't he seem more interested in how he looked on television, rather than have a face to face, hand to fanny conversation with his son. No, I won't be the first to volunteer. I don't have the 'hands on' experience that people with children do. I won't help with that job. But what I would do, is use Bernie Mac's educational suggestions on the father and work my way down.

P.S. Pardon the fresh language above, but I'm sure that's not the first time you (who are parents) have experienced that level of disobedience and had to deal with it.

There Is No God???

So I'm looking through the news on the internet and come across an article about an Atheist group in Britain who is running an ad campaign that's gaining popularity. They have taken ads that are or will soon be seen by the Brits throughout their buses and Underground trains that read, "There's probably no God. Now stop worrying and enjoy your life."

(cough, choke...) Hmmmmm..

As someone who does believe that God not only exists but takes great care and participation in my life. that doesn't anger me so much as you may expect. I have been known to fly off the handle a time or two, granted, on much sillier things. It's the human in me. But I feel sort of sad for people who don't believe that God exists. I know that there are many who believe that Christianity is bad on various levels. I'm not going to cite those arguments because in my eyes, there's far too much information on the internet that support the idea that Christians are bad. Whatevers. But I'm also not going to write as if I'm an expert on what Atheists really believe. Neither do I feel the need to want to learn more about their beliefs on the basis of 'learning' or 'opening my mind.' Frankly, my life experiences as well as my innate beliefs propel me to the conclusion that God DOES exist. But above this superficial understanding and belief, I know deeply and truly that He works in my life everytime I want Him to, and especially when I don't want Him to. Thats how much I am convinced that His love is real and His love is true. Even when I don't want my God to exist and see me involved in areas of my life that perhaps is not the most convenient or where I'm not acting right, He is. I always think of the times where I felt alone and misunderstood, or times when I was surrounded by people who loved me and yet still felt alone and unloved. In my na'au, I instinctively knew that despite how my feelings made my mind to drift on ideas that no one cared, I KNEW God cared for me. There have been in too many predicaments that I was literally at the end of my rope where I've been pulled out on time. There've been a few times that I let go of the rope, but found myself falling into a peaceful security and assurance that could have only come from Gods grace.

Call it what you will, haters. But this is my perspective and I'm convinced that God is alive and always working.

So I feel bad for people who feel contrary to me. I can't ask 'where do they go when they die?' because maybe they don't believe they go anywhere. But what happens to them when they die? Is that it? I guess if someone lived their life under that perceived ending, then the 'live your life' mentality that is prevalent in this day and age makes sense. Why not do whatever the heck you want? There's no accountability. There's no reason to do your best. There's no reason to live your best. There's no reason for charity. No reason for hope. No reason for true love, since the end of the life is empty. What's the point?

When I saw this article, I thought of this scripture: The fool says in his heart, "There is no God." They are corrupt, their deeds are vile; there is no one who does good. (Psalm 14:1) An atheist being interviewed was upset that their organization was asked to change the ad. It originally read 'There's no God. Now stop worrying and enjoy your life' The group was instructed that in order for their ad to be run, they needed to add the word 'probably' so as not to offend. He goes on to say something I found funny.

"I can see no evidence for God just as I can see no evidence for pineapples floating around the moon," he said. "I don't say there 'probably' aren't any pineapples floating around the moon, I just say I know there aren't any pineapples floating around the moon. But, it's a piece of marketing (referring to the ads), and I think it's good (the ad) because it makes people think."

That's comedy, right?!? Fool.

So I did a little internet hunting, and found this website. http://science.howstuffworks.com/space-food.htm/printable

Along with a video and a handful of other photos, I came across a picture of packaged foods that are taken on space trips by NASA. And an interesting mention that 'A typical space menu is made up of a lot of the same items found in homes and restaurants here on Earth. It might include foods such as: Beef stroganoff, Brownies, Crispy rice cereal, Chicken stew, Scrambled eggs, Pineapple, Granola bars, Macaroni and cheese, and Chocolate pudding.'

Ahem. Pineapples are floating around the moon. Alert the media. We have fools on the loose.

There's nothing else for me to say but this. If there is no God, then instead of God-believers having to prove that there is a God, atheists should prove that He doesn't if they have a problem?!? God can fight his own battles and prove who He is all by Himself without my help. If atheists can prove to me and the world that there is no God, then they will have more converts then they can handle. Until then, please just enjoy your bus ride and let me know where to send the pineapple.

http://news.yahoo.com/s/afp/20090119/ts_afp/lifestylebritainreligiontransportatheism_20090119063246

Notorious-ly Annoying

I know, what a weird, semi-deviant looking picture, right? Of course, like most of the pictures I've used so far in this blog, I took it off of the internet. And I thought it was appropriate for this rant.

So Keiffer and I go to the movies. He wanted to see the new B.I.G. cinematic masterpiece. Let me say, that the movie itself was pretty good. I was cringing throughout the movie to see how overly-dramatic or poorly acted this probably-should-have-been-straight-to-dvd-BET-nighttime-classic. I was happily surprised. The plot, though obviously unsurprising at the end, brought new insight to me on this mans' life. Of course I knew that there would be at least one collage of stage performances. I expected to see the pre-requisite sex scene, P.Diddy's guffawing and semi-gay spinning with arms flailing-stage dance routine, and to hear every cuss word ever uttered on the streets of Brooklyn. Check. The drugs, mysogyny, and street-lifestyle that I coudn't relate to from my own experience also were things I realized were a part of his life and would be in the film. Check. What I didn't expect was to like the movie and leave surprised.

So I'm sitting in this theater trying to make out what is being said and decipher in my head street slang to english, and I hear this couple behind me start the inevitable talking. I didn't expect a lot of things and did some things, but this thing--the constant talking during the movie--I not only expected it, but braced myself as much as I could for it. That is *bleeping* annoying.

This jerk and his jerk girlfriend talked through the entire movie. He was a wanna-be rapster that lost his way and ended up with his dreams dashed but his confidence in overdrive. He decided that he should try out his lack of skills with his talkative cheeseball girlfriend, who for some reason, was deceived in the notion that she knew each famous person portrayed on screen.

Their conversations were so lame. At one point they exchanged advice on whether the actress protraying Lil' Kim portrayed her accurately.
Huh!?!? The actress was portraying Lil' Kim. A woman with an abbreviated adjective as her surname. Lil' Kim is not a thespian with acting skills that were studied under the tutelage of award winning performers. This is Lil' Kim. A woman who's claim to fame is the recital of songs with lyrics that read like a night on the town with a sperm rag: "Bum b****** know better than to start sh**. N***** love a hard b****. One that get up in a n****'s a** quicker than an enema. Make a cat bleed then sprinkle it with vinegar"

Ah, modern day Shakespeare this woman is.

The entire length of the movie, I had to listen to Beevis and Butthead. There was so many thoughts that ran through my head. The first included twist ties, a dirty rag and a meat tenderizer. It was ridiculous.

I made it through and got out of the theaters and calmer head prevailed. But I must voice that if you watch this movie, make sure to have the ushers or theater manager on speed dial.

So Many Things To Talk About

Geez, it's been awhile. I've all but stopped holding myself to the 'daily' blog entry. I'm sorry, y'all--I can't do it! BUT, I'm still moving forward, as each new day brings new hopes that I may keep my commitment to this. So sometimes I'll write more than one entry per day. No rhyme or reason--just primarily according to how I'm feeling. The last few days have been pretty spectacular in many ways, and not so much in others. Make sense? Continue reading.

The weather here has been very cold, to say the least. I stayed in all weekend cleaning. There seems to be so much more to do, especially since I have a lot of 'little' things to put away. I've always had trouble trying to put things away. You know--those things that you put away, but always can't find when you need. Things like candles, picture frames, manuals (for computer programs or the rice cooker) and, well, other stuff. Where do you put these?

My problem is I'll put them in containers. Nice containers, boxes, etc. But containers that, eventually, multiply and are never really organized as much as I'd like. Now, organizing is my forte. Or at least I should be a master at it. My career entails organizational thinking and a detail-oriented thought process. I did it more in my previous management and consulting jobs. A lot, actually. But organizing, managing and developtmental skills are the foundational basics of what I do. At work.

At home---well, I don't get paid for that.

I don't do it very well.

Like Chef's who don't cook at home. Or domineering bosses who are usually pushovers with their spouses. So it is with me.

And so it is. My filing system is laughable. You see it up in the first paragraph. I keep all my 'important papers' in Duane Reade bags. Duane Reade bags!!!! I've had them in there for the last 3 years. All with the 'intention' of filing them in chronological order, all nicely bound then filed neatly in some stylish file cabinet. If you can remember what I said about 'good intentions'. I know what I should do, but again--coupled with my laziness, I'm a mess.

The following blogs are written off of a list of things that I've been thinking about. I'm great at lists~ the part of developing my lists means work. God help me get organized.

Volunteerism

I'm so proud of myself. I've finally started volunteering again. I don't say this to get a medal or to get any accolades. I've been 'meaning' to do this for a few years, but never really followed through. One reason or another I never got a chance to do it. There is a quote that goes, "The smallest good deed is better than the grandest good intention" (Duguet). The very act of me attending this orientation meeting to volunteer proves to be a bigger deed then all of the months I've spent wanting to do it.

So I've been looking on the NYcares.org website to look for areas in which to do something. I'm so impressed by this organization because they work with so many non-profits, state programs, homeless shelters, nursing homes, after-school programs, etc. that there are tons of opportunities to help. When I sat in during the orientation, there were several people there who, when asked why they want to volunteer, quite a few answered that they were new to New York, they heard about nycares and thought that volunteering would 1) allow them an opportunity to do good things with a well-known organization, and 2) meet new people. I thought what an amazing thing for people to think about helping others at a time when they're in this big city all alone. Pretty smart. There was a guy who just moved to NY 2 days ago from England; there was a woman from India originally, who just moved to NY from Boston 2 months ago; a Botanist who's lived in the Bronx for several years, and so on. We went around the table to introduce ourselves and state why we were volunteering.

When my turn came up, all I planned to say so that I sounded the slightest bit intelligent fell out of my head. 'Why do you want to volunteer with NYcares?', asked the leader of the group. All I could think of in that brief moment were the times my mother, who when she was a shut-in at home and no one would come and visit her, there was an organization that had volunteers whose sole purpose was to come over and talk to my mom and spend time with her for companionship. I realized that this is what I need to do. This is part of my calling in being in New York. All I could muster to say was, "My mother was a recipient of people who volunteered to give her a purpose and through companionship, give her worth. I honor her by giving back the same gift to other Seniors." The words came out effortlessly, and I realized that I was operating in the realm of my purpose. Volunteering is key to my calling.

I look forward and am very excited about what lies ahead. I anticipate every opportunity to be challenging but fulfilling. I cannot wait to serve.

This is a new year and this is a new moment to do grand things through small deeds.

What are you doing this year? What plans do you have for yourself and your life? If volunteerism is not a part of your purpose, do you at least know what your purpose is? If you do, I encourage you to get involved, get active and get busy. There are people who need to hear from you. People who have been hoping and praying for your arrival. It's time to answer the call. If you don't know what your purpose is, I implore you to have a talk with yourself and search your heart to see what you can do to reach a life. Moreso, to see what you can do to change your own life.

http://nycares.org/

Love In A Seat

I didn't go to work yesterday, so today was my official first day of going to work from my new apartment. There's a Trip Planner on MTA.info one can use to plan the fastest route and method from one point to another on public transit.

Pretty freakin' sweet.

So I calculated that I needed to leave home around 730a at the latest, meaning I'd need to get up at least 630a. I went to sleep after midnight last night, so I woke up fairly tired. Naw, bump that--I was crying for sleep. But I pushed myself out of bed and dragged myself through the daily routine of getting ready for work, and it almost hurt. But, no violins for me (since EVERYONE needs to do it daily), cause I still am working at a company that I love, with people that I like, doing work that I love. No complaints. But I digress.

It's been cold and getting colder by the day, so there was ice all over the road, which made the walk to the express bus stop a little treacherous and slower then I expected. When I got to the stop, the bus was a minute from pulling away, so I got there just in time to join the line and board the bus. Upon alighting, I didn't realize how busy and full the bus would be. I was the last to board, so I took the first seat I saw, which was on the bench in the front. I squeezed my slacks and eskimo jacket in the spot and put my ear buds in. Carrie Underwood met me on the other end and I concentrated on getting warm.

As we were about to pull out, the bus jerked to a halt and the front doors folded open. In hopped an older lady and a young kid. The older lady took a while to pull her card out of her wallet. The bus driver told her that she'd need to get a receipt from a machine outside of the bus before boarding as its a new system of toll collection, so she got off and the kid boarded. He looked about 15 and in highschool. He took the last seat on the bus across from me. The bus driver kindly waited for the woman. I sat up in my seat and tried to look over heads across from me and outside the window to see where she was at in getting her fair paid. I could tell she was having a bit of difficulty in negotiating the machine. It took a minute or so and I saw her turn and walk towards the front door again. She slowly got on the bus, and upon reaching the top step, she realized after a quick scanning of the bus from her position that there were no seats. I noticed how the heads of many around me quickly looked towards the floor. Shady.

As I realized that my inaugural trip would include me holding a pole on my feet, I noticed that the high school kid across from me just as quickly jumped up from his seat and ushered the woman into his seat. She waved him off, almost embarrassed that he offered his seat to her. Perhaps she was more proud then she looked and still felt her age was nothing to pity. Astonishingly enough, the young man said politely, 'I insist." and smiled and waited for her to plant herself on the bench. She smiled sheepishly. She almost looked like a little girl. The only telling sign that she wasn't was the faint smell of liniment and lavendar. ("Smells just like my Aunty's," I thought.) It made me smile and reminisce.

I watched as she sat, and the high schooler turned his ipod up a little, smiled back, then turned towards the front of the bus as the bus driver closed the door and slowly commanded the bus to lurch forward into traffic. From a faint sheepish smile that the woman had washed across her face, it slowly faded to a stern, emotionless expression that is ever so common and familiar in this city. It seemed the coldness of the air outside took hold again and the loving exchange that was brief but seemed to last hours in that bus, faded as quickly as the leaves had also faded a few months ago due to the brisk wind and weather. The high schooler closed his eyes as he bopped his head to the tune in his ears, and the warm exchange was gone.

That succint scene made me smile the entire way to work. It warmed me from the inside out. I literally began to sweat. I thought of how amazing we each have a way of reaching out to others in very minimal, tiny ways. And yet how profound small acts are able to display the capacity of humanity to not only surprise, but delight. It's an amazing thing. There are so many opportunities within this city, this cold, lonely city, to live in a silo. So many chances to isolate yourself. To habitually ignore our inate human instinct to connect with others. So when someone who lives alone, commutes alone, spends more time alone sees the kindness of strangers, the beauty of respect, the acknowledgement of a good deed, it becomes so much grander then normal. It becomes noteworthy. And the identification of Love in action becomes much more obvious.

I get blessed everytime I see Love displayed. It's a fantastic blessing to be witness to Love's revelation. To see Love make an appearance on a cold day is warming. But to also see Love revealed amongst a crowded bus of other lonely people, from one generation to another--that's a miracle. That fills me with hope that Love still exists amongst the next generation~a generation that, frankly, doesn't seem to be the best example of honor and values. I stand corrected. If I'm to believe in Love and believe that Love exists, then I MUST also believe that coupled with that belief, is that it requires Faith on my part to Hope in that Love. It is true that these three things, Faith, Hope and Love each are distinct, but work together. That revelation is a gift to me today. I hope I will always be open and faithful in believing that Love is still working, still alive and still pesent with us today. And I hope to always have the ability to recognize the presence of Love, and to realize Love's power. Be it in a simple smile, a polite greeting or even perhaps in the offer of a seat.

What Do I Do?!?

You ever have one of those days that you just don't know which direction to go? Or you have to make a choice between two decisions with two different outcomes and you don't know which one to make? I feel like that today.

Whenever I have a decision to make, I always remember what I was taught to do when I was young. My Aunty L (my mom's younger sister) was a good aunt to me. She was single and never got married, so my brothers, sisters and I were like her kids. She was always a part of our lives and the things I remember about her and the way I saw her live serve as lessons for me to live by as an adult. One of the biggest lessons I learned from her example is seeing her go to church.

Now I realize that the act of going to church doesn't make you a better person or help you make better choices. It doesn't make you a Christian no more than singing 'Single Ladies' will make you Beyonce. (Though people still try! Shrug.) But, I'm a firm believer that consistency builds faithfulness and character. So seeing her get up each Sunday even when she wasn't feeling well, really taught me. If she found the energy to make the effort to see God, then perhaps I should too. See my parents weren't big church-goers. They both were raised in diffeent faiths-Pentecostal on my dad's side and Catholic on my mom's. So my first experience in church was at a Congregational Protestant church that spoke most of the service in Hawaiian. Go figure. My aunt was a sickly woman. So when she was too ill to go anywhere, I could always count on seeing her and her bible praying to get better. She always went to God to pray for her healing and help. So that always stayed with me till this day.

So yesterday I'm thinking about a few things that's been on my mind. Adult things like bills, thing I need, things I want to do this year, places I want to go. You know, I went through the grocery/life list. School, family, work, etc. We all have these conversations in our head. Is this person the right one for me--are we compatible? Is this the best job for me and what I want to do for the rest of my life? Have I moved to the right place--is this where I want to live? What am I going to do pay my bills? Do I want to get married? Who's going to help me when I get old? These are questions that are constant and universal to humans.

I spoke to a friend of mine and asked what are her methods of dealing with questions of life, and she chooses meditation. Another friend always consults professionals~from sex, money to buying furniture, he has someone on speed dial for that. When I'm at the crosswalk on life's busy highway and I don't know whether to walk or stop, I do a combination of seeking professionals opinions and relaxing meditation, but my first choice is always to pray. I learned it as a young man and it's always helped me. And I've never felt like a prayer of mine has gone unanswered, especially knowing in my spirit that a lot of times, no answer is the answer (Side note: That's the "worst case scenario" response that I don't like, but it happens sometimes). From the simplest things to the more complex problems I've ever faced, I've always taken a moment to shoot a prayer and ask for guidance and peace. I'll never think twice about runnng anywhere else.

What do you do? What helps you out when you don't know what to do? Whatever it is that you do, I hope that your methods help you and bring you to a place where you experience the joy of receiving an answer. If it doesn't, perhaps you may need to find another method. If that's the case, try praying. It's helped me.

Janelle Monae

Last polling question was whether you've heard of Janelle Monae or not. I'm not an aficionado, but snce I've come across her music, I'm hooked.

I met her (in my mind) when I went with Kieffer to see Ziggy Marley at a private function for Facebook in NYC. She performed first, and she was fantastic! Since that night I've been listening to anything I can get my hands on, and it's been one surprise after another. In a good way.

If you want something edgy (at least to me) that is nothing like you may have heard on mainstream pop radio, go and get her albums. You'll love it.

Here's a link to another live performance I got off of youtube.com. Hope you enjoy it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p1J1RFKHCx0

And for those of you who want more, here's her website. Enjoy!

http://www.janellemonae.com/

The Fourth Oldest

Can I Get It Plain?

I 'discovered' a new cupcake place in the city yesterday. The reason why I 'discovered' it is only because I was with a friend (who shall remain anonymous--you know who you are), and like two tried-and-true fat asses, we were scouring our way through Metropolis for cupcakes on a day where a snow and ice storm was blowing through and it was about 24 degrees.
No one can ever question our commitment.

Naturally I didn't know about it, because I'm not really a cupcake fan, per se. I just love sweets. And if sweets are packaged pretty like in fancy boxes and different colors, heck, I'm sold on it. And so it was with this place. It's called Crumbs Bake Shop, and I must say that it was pretty fat-ulous. Anything one can think of putting on flour and sugar, I believe they have it. You would be surprised.

I saw at least 15 different varieties of cupcakes. It was awesome to see. If someone came into the store yelling that this country was in the middle of a recession and there was a huge shortage of sugar, I would have called them a liar and a dream killer. There were quite a few people already in the store, the crew behind the counter was buzzing amongst each other packing and prepping, and the line steadily streamed past the goodies. And they all looked delicious. That is, if you like all of your daily caloric intake wedged, spackled and packed on a palm-sized cake. To my Diabetic, Gluttonous and No Self-Control brethren be warned--you will not win any battles in this war. You will lose. And I'm not talking about weight.

But, take heart! It is a new year, a new time to make new choices and decisions that can off-set the not so smart decision to buy that 6-pack of cupcakes you just bought. (You know who you are!). Just remember that the more you pack on the sprinkles, coconut, chocolate chips, frosting, fudge, peanut butter and caramel, the more you'll need to work it out on that eliptical machine you've been avoiding.

So make the right choice. The fat guy in me says screw it and dive head first into the pot. But the neglected adult exerciser in me says to get the cupcake plain. Whatever the decision, I think Crumbs is a fantastic place to check out. If you need help, I'll lick the frosting off for you.

http://crumbsbakeshop.com/

Ice Skating Is For The Outdoors

So if you've never seen snow fall, then you probably have never seen ice on the ground. And if you've never seen ice on the ground, then surely you haven't walked on it. Let me introduce you to Yak Trax. There are very few products that I'd take the time to write a review. Unless it was a bad review. Oh, yeah. I'll take the time. It's so much easier to complain and write about something that sucks. It's inate in most human beings to bitch and moan. Have you ever seen reviews of any movie lately? The reviews that most people remember and re-read are the ones where the plot is scrutinized and the actors are reduced to tears. People love tearing down others. So, like movies, if you were to ever check out any product on Amazon.com, you'll see that all of the reviews are mostly from people who are pissed off with their purchase. Well, not me.

Every winter since I've moved to the Big Apple, I've fallen. That's twice a year. I've fallen at least twice a year. And when I fall, I do it dramatic-style. All you see is hands flailing, and all you hear is a thud, the sound likened to two 20 lb. sacks of rice dropped from the back of a pick up. But add to this mental picture, cold snow, at least twenty people around, and the thought that I will have to walk down the rest of the way to wherever I'm going wth my back covered in snow. Yeah, that's attractive.

So I was at work a few weeks back and a co-worker talked about this product. Now I didn't pay it much mind while she spoke about it, mainly because I was in the middle of doing something else and it hadn't snowed, so I didn't 'need' to know the information.

Then I took a spillage down the stairs walking towards the subway. It was like the numerous other times I've fallen, except I was fortunate enough to sprawl out on my back right as the uptown and downtown trains both emptied onto the platform. Lovely.

'Bravo!', I heard in my mind. 'Cirque De Soleil is in town! And they have full-sized clowns too!' It couldn't have happened to another person at a better time. I peeled myself off of the grimy steps. And as I limped away with my hand on my lower back and struggling to pull my pride out of my shoes, I thought how awful it would be if to add insult to injury, the back of my pants and jacket was wet and imprinted with wet marks from the steps of shame.

I got home, and my only consolation was that I fell for the season. I checked it off my list of things-to-do, and it was accomplised as predicted. One down, one to go. I limped into my apartment, turned on QVC, and bless God, there on the t.v. was some woman with way too much make-up selling Yak Trax! How awesome was that? God surely was smiling down at me. I ordered a pair and decided that now I'd be ready for the next wave of snow and ice.

Two weeks later, forecast was for up to 5 inches of snow and ice. Yes, I was ready! I was prepared for the impending storm that was headed to the Tri-state area. I was done with my mornng shower and just got on all my clothes, when I decided that since it was already snowing, it was probably best to put on my new yak trax and head on downstairs so that I could get to my bus stop in time.

As I locked up the front door and made my way down the hallway, the metal wires on the bottom of the trax, the key, critical portion of that fantastic device that was designed to keep all wearers upright, malfunctioned. Well, reading the instructions later that afternoon, it didn't really malfunction as much as it was created to handle walking on ice, but not on any other smooth services like tile, marble, and wood floors. As you may surmise, I slipped and fell smack dab on the left side of my body. My no slipping device caused me to slip and fall on my arse again.

Did I miss something? That's like making an impenetrable bullet proof jacket that protects from fire, sharp objects, speeding cars and direct electrical current, but has one unfortunate design flaw--that being that it doesn't block bullets!!!

Suffice it to say, I made it to work, and forgot my fear of falling on that hallway floor. No longer will I fall in public. I have my impenetrable shoe appliance. But, I will be writing a review on QVC. And it won't be pretty.

Yak Traxx....get em so you don't fall. On the outside.