catch-all

one step closer....

dwell — Thu, 09 Jun 2011 09:00:34 GMT

actually a few steps closer to being an internet 'tard.

step 1: upload boring commuting video to youtube
step 2: tell my friends about it on some "social media platform"
step 3: ??

yes, i have a very long commute to work. VERY LONG. i'd like to post some nice videos of the golden gate bridge, marin headlands, nice roads around SF and maybe even my commute home! i know, exciting stuff! thrilling even.

dwell — Mon, 18 Apr 2011 10:26:39 GMT

it was a first for me, helping her pack. not the packing itself, and not with her; we had moved together over 15 times, but this would be the first time that i helped her move and i wasn't moving along with her. i don't remember a lot of places that we had been to, i don't know, maybe i just started remembering the bad times we had.

it's funny, the older i get, the more vivid some memories become, but the less positive i am that these are real. it's some twisted heisenberg uncertainty principle: the very act of remembrance might be causing it to be synthesized out of all the shit tv i've been building up in my system. for instance: laying on that carpet in eugene, oregon, after her and my dad fought again, and this, for the final time. we've moved out of the house and into some apartment. her crying on the floor. me laying next to her. just seeing her prone, straight out, like a heaving corpse. we had my little captains bed -- the one with the raised mattress and the drawers underneath it on one side and the other side just a sprawling cavern (it was obviously designed to be pushed up against a wall) and i would store my toys down there and pretend it was a cave where i would play with my stuffed animals, safe away from my histrionic mom. except we don't have any tools to screw the bolts down, so we're just laying on the floor as if we gave up on the whole thing and the mattress is an unacceptable compromise. i'm laying next to her and she's weaving some story about how my real mom, mei lin, was her friend in college and had me and couldn't keep me and so my "mom" took care of me ever since. and i'm feeling bad for her because, man, i'd hate to get stuck with me! but then i'd laugh because i didn't believe her, she'd insist it was real, but that she'd never leave me like my dad left me. and i'd still laugh because wait, it wasn't really real, she was my mom, not this "mei lin", right? and this would go on for child-hours until one of us got tired of the game.

those years, we would drive up and down highway 1 or 101 between oregon, san francisco, and southern california as she tried to decide which location felt right. i tired of making new friends and vowed never to make new friends again since i'd just be saying good bye to them in a year or less. my resolve wouldn't last long because i wanted to be accepted no matter who, or what, or where.

and now this 1 bedroom apartment that we had moved to back in '89, this one she'd been leaving in all by herself since '92 when i was kicked out and i started my own moving adventures, now i'm helping her pack her computer and monitor. for some reason she doesn't feel comfortable unhooking it and wants to watch me do it, even though everything else is packed and being hauled away by the shiesty movers who are charging her double what they quoted her over the internet (but that's a whole 'nother rant). and we're talking, communing, like old friends; like people who took care of each other for 15+ years when it seemed like no one else really wanted to be a part of their lives; like lover who turned into haters who turned into just that person you "once knew" but all your friends talk shit about whenever you awkwardly bump into each other at the same party. we're having a good time; i find out she likes bollywood movies even more than i do and before i unhook everything, we get on youtube and we're sharing clips of movies or songs that we've enjoyed and horribly mangling some hindi names and finding out later that we're just piecing together parts of real names and laughing enjoying the time and i'm looking up at the wall clock but it's no longer there, nothing is, it's heading out on it's way 'cross the country.

and i tell her i have to get to work early the next day; disassemble the cable mess i started back when i was a 15 year old, and pack it up. she praises me for my space use and improvising of the leftover packing materials. i tell her i've had a lot of practice.

and then

dwell — Mon, 11 Apr 2011 19:12:14 GMT

if i knew how to write short stories, i'd write a short story about a competitive eater and how he tackles some insane, impossible task like eating the worlds biggest meatball (225+ lbs) before it rots and then how it irrevocably changes his life for the worse. and then on his deathbed, he'll say in a regretful voice tinged with profound pathos: "i shouldn't have eaten The Meatball".

dwell — Thu, 26 Aug 2010 22:44:28 GMT

So I've been drinking a lot of coffee again and I think it's giving me pimples; all of a sudden I have like 3 fresh, new, sassy ones on my forehead. My friend invited me to lunch today and I declined.

me: i have big pimples on my forehead and it makes me self-conscious, that's the real reason why i didn't go to lunch with you.
William: just wear a bandana
me: if it hurts when the wind blows across their pimply peaks
a bandana will make me pass out.

hi livejournal.

good people

dwell — Wed, 30 Jun 2010 23:12:01 GMT

happy people and a plant!

i see what you did there, D. Please see me tomorrow morning when you get in.

<3,
bt

harrumph

dwell — Tue, 29 Jun 2010 19:01:33 GMT

my 2nd to last day here at LJ Inc. and i don't know quite what i'm feeling. trepidation, i mean, just a little bit, since i don't have another job lined up. but the rest of it feels like a half-eaten fruit, one that's pretty good to eat but midway through you just go, "eh, what's the point?" and toss it. sorta like this entry and LIKE YOUR FACE.

that was mean.

so this is like, the first and last time i'm going to get paid to LJ at work, i wish i could make it a good one, i wish i could pour myself into this text box and make it a container for my soul. but i have to finish porting over configs for our load balancer upgrade, which, incidentally, is probably a good 2 weeks behind schedule. and we have interviews for the director of operations position in 2 minutes. i do have to say that craigslist worked for us well on this position; we received a lot of high-quality candidates and have a breadth of choices.

final thought before i get that penultimate cup of coffee: change is going to be very good; by removing myself from this position LJ has a great opportunity to bring in someone that will revitalize this department, wake up my the team and bring it to the next level. the alarms are going off downtown and it's noon on a tuesday. let the light shine.

dwell — Fri, 11 Sep 2009 08:42:46 GMT

i fired this up, this journal. i should be back to doing homework but i'm just procrastinating here. come here and let's make it pretty tonight, this life built of second sight. i used to be able to pour out my soul into you; count off when the seconds collide and be amused by the sparks in-between; find my peace in a breath and revel in the spurs in my chest, in my heart.

this is all i remember: the acrid smell in my nostrils and the whispery edifice of an ancient city around us; the stroke of an au lait on my tongue and words without understanding but fraught with meaning calling to us; the smell of the sand and the feel of the ocean; the sweet discord of palm trees and the atonal dance of the city; life on the boring side of tinted glass and the laid on lacquer of bored coffeegirls; museum death in stippled shades of propaganda; beach nights and seafood days.

i'm first struck by the sheer awesomeness of it, but awesome in a bad way. it'll shake you, saigon will. if the summer heat doesn't mutilate you, the gruffness of their traffic will. the strident commercialism -- how everyone is working so hard to make a living yet taking time out of the day to bemusedly enjoy the time of their lives -- will sock you in your figurative twig and berries. the assortment of fresh, delectable foodstuffs (who says "foodstuffs" anyways? outside of some role-playing d&d wannabe game?) will, ironically eviscerate. or something like that. i hated vietnam when i first landed.

i never wanted to leave.

nothing will highlight how much of a blight, how much of an out-of-control virus humans are, like a large city will. and saigon is a perfectly organic example of that, with its franco-colonial architecture twisted in among modern buildings on top of what most certainly was a jungle before we imposed our willfully misdirected might onto it. and it's perfect. the decaying smell of an old, emerging city is no better felt than among the cracked sidewalked cafe-right-on-the-street next to the scooter repair center right next to the food cart right next to the prada store throughways of saigon.

visit. bring an open mind and an even more open stomach. the only thing you don't need is that much cash. unless you visit a "window cafe" where they play techno music at 11am, LOUDLY, and you wonder how come it's totally full of well dressed people spending the equivalent of 1/2 day's laborer's wage on 1 glass of cafe sua da.

EAT THE FOOD.

how's that for subliminal messaging? too subliminal?

THE FOOD IS GREAT. EAT IT. THE PEOPLE ARE FUN AND MARVELOUS AND STRONG. RESPECT THEM. THE LAND IS STILL BEAUTIFUL. VISIT IT. THE GECKOS ARE MESMERIZING. CATCH THEM.

SFO AIRPORT

SAIGON SHOWER

NIGHT FOOD MAKES ME HAPPY FACE SHINY

MY SAIGON SIREN SINGING HER TEMPTRESS SONG

OHH, BALL CRUSHING PARASAILING THINGING!
i was so scared i'm peeing on the guys underneath... :T run, suckers!

OH NICE RESORT IN PHAN THIET, CHEAP TOO!

WE ATE GOOD

... AND HAD GREAT TIMES

MUD BATHS

noooo, this isn't posed at all...

yeah, my mona lisa love, let's go back.

dwell — Fri, 11 Sep 2009 04:53:12 GMT

heading to MUNICH and AMSTERDAM in less than 2 weeks for a bachelor party! any suggestions from those that have been there? suggestions can run the full gamut from G-rated to ones that would get me in trouble with... just about anyone. danke.

see? i'm already practicing the german that i know. and uhh, that was it. yeah.

bt

air, circulating

dwell — Fri, 21 Aug 2009 06:44:27 GMT

"gaaaaahhHHRRR!!"

track it
so i've been riding for less than 2 years and i finally got myself to the track, thunderhill raceway, this past monday and tuesday. i've ridden maybe 10,000 miles or so, mostly commute miles within the city. even though i live right in the middle of some of the best roads in the country, i usually didn't have much time to get out and ride them on the weekend.

i chose keigwin's 2 day novice school and it was an excellent entry to the track. highly recommended if you're in the northern california area. i was able to go up with my beloved, 4 of our friends and a nice guy that i met off the triumph675.net forums. 4 out of the 7 would be riding; 3 of us were completely new to the track.

sunday night we loaded all our gear (and then some), drove up to marin, where i loaded my bike into my buddy's trailer, and we motored on up to willows, ca.

i couldn't sleep sunday night because of the sweet, sweet anticipation. monday morning i woke up super-duper early (for me) to get to the raceway in time for the 7:45 registration and tech inspection -- we had unloaded our bikes the night before and grabbed our pit. i asked the tire guys what recommended pressures for my tires were, and completed one final check of my bike. then it was on to the riders meeting! though it was a little daunting for me, what with all the buzz and activity going around and everyone rushing from one area of the paddock to the other seemingly knowing exactly what they were doing, it was actually a very simple and streamlined process.

at the riders meeting, they explained the basic rules of the track -- entrance and exiting procedures, outside passing only, what different flags meant and what to do when they were waved -- and we split into two groups; "A" for the faster, more experienced riders, and "B" group for the more sedate and inexperienced of us. of course i chose the b group. since this was a "school" and not an open trackday, 1 group would have 45 minutes to ride around the track, while the other group was in the classroom covering various subjects like line selection, passing techniques, body positioning and picking up the pace. we would alternate in 45 minute blocks for the rest of the day.

our first session we went out in groups of 2 or 3 behind an instructor to learn the lines and i was actually scared they were going to go too fast! hehe, yes, i think a big part of a first track day is nervous fear. at least for me. ok, a big part of my LIFE is nervous fear. anyways, the instructor didn't go too fast.

a couple of big reasons why i chose keigwins was not only for the 45 minute sessions, but because they would have instructors both riding the track "sniping" individuals to give them tips and a tow around, but also because you can actually sign up beforehand with one of the instructors for personalized 1-on-1 instruction for the entire 45 minute session.

so what it was like
jitters. excitement. adrenaline. heat.

the temperature in willows, ca for august is around 100 degress fahrenheit, the high temperature on the track was gauged at 107 and 111 those 2 days. i would be wearing an all black leather suit with too few perforations. i was semi-seriously scared of suffering heat stroke in the middle of a turn or experiencing visions of dancing, camel-laden oasis' shimmy-shammering their siren vision and leading me off track. i was serious-serious that i would go in to a corner too hot or misjudge lean angle or be heavy-handed with the throttle and just fkcu things up for myself and hopefully no one else.

so. i grabbed, within reason, all the 1-on-1 instruction i could get and they helped sooo much. the first instructor, on the first day, admittedly didn't have much to work with, what with me all wide-eyed, hopped up on too many electrolyte drinks and addled a little more than usual. i tried to take his advice and just calm the heck out. i circulated around the track as best i could, had very few "ohhhh crap" moments and basically didn't clench my seat too much with my pucker tool. i also went pregnant-dog slow.

see? here's just 7 of the many riders i held up that day. at least i was good passing practice for them.

when the day was over at 4, i was just glad we were all whole and healthy and the camels hadn't led me into the dirt. my friend had slapped his lap timer on my bike and my fastest speed for that session was 2:56. in comparison the fastest recorded lap time at thunderhill was in the low 1:50's. a 10 year boy in my class, on his second day EVER at a track, turned 2:24 on his 250cc (?) 2-stroke.

on the second day i was able to grab an instructor first thing in the morning and another after lunch. the first one noticed that i was always sitting back in the saddle after my turns, and told me i needed to just either hang off on that side if there was another same-handed turn coming up, or smoothly transition to the other side. he basically didn't want me to sit in the saddle. at all. i also had a lot of work to do on my body positioning as i wasn't leading with my inside shoulder or dropping either of my elbows enough. i was also not "completing" my turns, instead, staying too close to the inside line for far too long after passing my apex, rather than letting my line naturally carry me to the next entrance.

i worked on those points for the next session and felt so much smoother and controlled. i mean, now i was no longer upsetting the bike all the time by moving from one side, to the seat and back out. we broke for lunch and then i signed up with my 3rd and final instructor for after lunch, since there were still spots available.

my 3rd instructor. my god. as usual, we first talked about what i wanted to work on. what i wanted to work on was for him to see how much i was able to apply from the 1st instructor earlier that day. but instead, during my rambling, he picked up on something very minute and telling. he asked me, "what's an apex?". "uhh, it's the point where you're closest to the inside of the turn", was my memorized answer. "but why do we NEED to choose and hit an apex?". my glazed over smile was all the answer he needed. for the first 2 laps i was to follow him while he pointed out every single freaking apex on every single turn. then i was to lead and hit every single freaking apex in every single turn, no matter my how fast or how slow i chose to go. so he did. and i did. the track felt smoother yet. after we pulled into the hot pit for our debriefing he was very happy. he said i was the only student that day that actually did what he asked his students to do. it was at that moment i realized i had been his ONLY student that day. no, i kid. i think. but he was happy, i was happy and then he gave me another "a ha" moment. he asked me why i wasn't on the balls of my feet. oh, but i was, see??? oh, but i WASN'T! (bet you didn't see that coming!!) no, i was on the TOES of my feet, but not the balls. uhmmm, how come no one told me earlier that "balls of feet" meant that the end of my pegs were supposed to dig into the balls (THE BALLS) of my feet like a spike?? when he showed me the bottom of his boot, and how there was golf-ball sized divot from his elvis-like foot swiveling, i TOTALLY, FINALLY, UNDERSTOOD.

our session was over but there was one last class lecture, and 1 final sesson after that.

the last class lecture could basically be boiled down to, "PIN THE THROTTLE. TO THE STOPS. ON EVERY STRAIGHT. OH, AND TURNS 6, 7 AND 8 ARE TO BE CONSIDERED A KINKED STRAIGHT. YOU POOOOSAYS." followed by the twist-the-throttle-to-the-stop hand motion. repeatedly. accompanied with a "vroom vroom" sound. so i went out and did that and everything, oh my god, oh em gee my god, everything finally came together. and i really, no, i got it, i really started to understand what this whole track day shenanigans thing was all about. and i finally could understand the concepts of "lines" and "apexes" and cranking the bike over and counter-steering. i could finally start to understand how ignorant i had been this whole time. i wasn't fighting the bike anymore. i wasn't fighting the track anymore. all i fought was the wind as i popped my head up from my tuck coming down the front straight into turn 1. all i fought was the force of downshifting and braking while screaming my smile out of my heart and out through my bared teeth and past the shield of my helmet. all i fought was. nothing. i was riding tracks of never-ending lightness and there was nothing wrong in this world, there was nothing bad, no deadlines, no stresses, no injustices, no fears, no hatreds. just here, just now, just us.

my friend had stuck the lap timer on my bike after lunch and i had dropped a full 30 seconds; i was now circulating this earth at 2:26. nope, i'm not a natural at this whole thing; i won't be quitting my day job and joining the AFM as a novice racer. but i had improved myself, my skills, upped my comfort level measurably (30 seconds worth apparently) and had some of the best 2 days of my life.

go. do it if you haven't. and if you have, do it again. i have a lot more to work on, i've already written down a 10 point list. i feel more confidant on the street, a little more sure of myself and am a little more knowledgeable of what my bike is capable of and how we can work together better. i look forward to my next track day.

pictures

turn 14

i was in her way but she didn't hold it against me.

uptight, upright and crossed up. oh well, point #3 to work on.

preparation steps

to prep my bike i had changed out the coolant for distilled water and some "water wetter", the oil and the oil filter, brake fluid and slapped on new pilot power 2ct's. beyond that, keigwins only requires disconnecting/taping the rear brake lights and indicators, and removing or taping up the mirrors! that's it.
to prep my mind i re-read some of my books like "twist of the wrist II" and nick ienatsch's book. i had also taken lee park's total control training ARC I class earlier this year to get better with throttle control. i could already hang off the bike with passable (i.e., not TOTALLY crossed up) body positioning and drag my knee at will. AT 20 MPH!! hahaha. never did it at speed and of course would not do it on the street or in the hills.
to prep my body, i had bought a 1-piece leather suit offa someone on craigslist -- new, with tags still attached and 1/2 off price of a brand-new suit. i also had an underarmor-type 1 piece undersuit that i bought from sport bike trackgear to aid in sweaty on-off transitions; new sidi boots and a t-pro back protector.
we brought chairs; a lot of drinks including water and electrolyte pills because of the heat; tool boxes; bike stands; FOOD.

LJ DoS Attack

dwell — Thu, 13 Aug 2009 22:35:21 GMT

View Poll: LJ DoS attack

dwell — Sun, 09 Aug 2009 09:38:18 GMT

i don't know if it's right to keep 1 journal up for the sake of 20,000,000. all should be equal and able to express their views, regardless if i personally think it's right or wrong, good or bad. within societal and legal guidelines, of course. but this isn't my site, this isn't my company. i'm just one of the care-takers. if push comes to shove and i'm forced to choose between my conscience and my job, would i make the right choice? i'd like to think so, but i've never been in that position. not yet. i've found in life, sometimes the ones who talk the biggest talk collapse under the smallest of pressures, and those that doubt themselves find the most glorious of strengths within. i'd rather be the latter than the former. but the last few years makes me really question if my inner view matches what i actually do.

---

went clubbing at temple sf tonight. hung out with some of the snapfish guys. toasted the dos in a deprecatory way. i blame it on the alcohol: drunk without happiness, forgetfulness without peace. i'm drunk and marie is asleep in the bed and i'm typing, still fully clothed, still drying off the vodka spilled on my jacket. i want to make a positive change, i want to do something that counts in this world, that matters. but at my age, sometimes it's just better to accept what one is and what one can do but i don't want to accept, i don't want to just curl up and roll over and let it all be.

i'm signing off. we're all tired tonight. go to the cups and let us dry tomorrow, slowly, in the air.

d to the os

dwell — Fri, 07 Aug 2009 02:05:58 GMT

matt woke up to the shrill thrill of the pager this morning. some of you may have heard of the twitter and facebook attacks this morning, but we were also affected. if you didn't even know that LJ was also targeted then we did our job correctly, though there is still some latency and time-outs happening.

matt did an especially good job this morning. and after getting the site operational, he still came into the office all stubbly and eye-boogerery and oh-so-sexy. i'm kidding about that last part. no, really, it was sorta gross but since he's so awesome i didn't say anything about how sexy he was. seriously, he could've called in a "work from home" day and i would've been so much happier. he's the best.

i got into work later than he did only because i was meeting with some vendors at acme chophouse for lunch, but since i got *there* later than everyone else (hey! i had a good reason!) and didn't want to hold them up further, all i ate was the bread and drank some water. i almost felt like a visiting journalist in north korea, only i had to listen to a sales pitch. oh, and i got to walk out without a clinton escort.

------

i promise, i'll get some south-east asia trip pics up soon. i've been lazy, like in my userpic! :D

Posted using TxtLJ

dwell — Sat, 11 Jul 2009 12:55:45 GMT

Burned through Saigon, nha trang, mui ne, Johor bahru/kulai, kuala lumpur. Now enjoying a Singaporean thunder storm from 24 stories off the ground.

Posted using TxtLJ

dwell — Wed, 01 Jul 2009 12:38:26 GMT

I misspelled "lightning". My excuse is our flights took us from San francisco to hong kong to Singapore to Saigon. I dont know how much time that took but i do know i had 5 meals plus 1 snack. and thats a pretty good measure if i ever heard of one.

Posted using TxtLJ

dwell — Wed, 01 Jul 2009 12:30:44 GMT

Saigon greeted us with lightening, thunder and rain our first day. Traffic here is exactly as described, only more so. To make it through an intersection you have to unfocus your eyes, trust that others won't hit you (or you won't hit them) and lay on the horn a couple of times.

Posted using TxtLJ

dwell — Tue, 30 Jun 2009 07:27:10 GMT

Two weeks in vietnam, Singapore and Malaysia! See you when I'm tanner!!

dwell — Wed, 10 Jun 2009 01:31:42 GMT

hey hon, dontcha know there are times when you're gorgeous and there are times when you're beautiful. this is one of those times.

look! i'm living in a small box inside a larger box!

i think sometimes she takes too much delight in the wrong things.

see? i made a animated gif online that illustrates this point. no, i am not trying to raise the roof.

too sexy for the '70s. 1870's.

in all fairness here's a more normal picture of us jumping in front of our friend trying to take a picture of some tower or something. he wouldn't have gotten the shot with that puny flash of his anyways.

dwell — Tue, 09 Jun 2009 19:21:19 GMT

oh livejournal, you used to be my respite from stress, my rocky crag from the wind and sun. now you've made me a stress ball and i blame you for my shingles. i wish we could kiss and make up but i'm afraid of catching something worse from you.

dwell — Fri, 22 May 2009 09:25:41 GMT

yesterday you carried your two bags, unconcerned, casually, in your left hand. yesterday i held the door for you; smiling, laughing self-conciously at our language barrier, we walked up the stairs. and today, i held the door for you one last time as two men carried your final bag -- composed and dusky despite the whiteness of the vinyl.

today i heard your daughter wail. a strong, vibrant recrimination against the unfairness of the most impartial of all afflictions. i heard her repeat the self-blame, i heard her repeat the same questions, i heard her repeat the same promises. and i never heard the answers, and i didn't hear the agreement finalized on the other end.

and angel, tonight we lit a candle for you in our shared window so you can find your way home. i know you're in memory. stay there. stay hidden for now. you'll be awakened soon enough.

dwell — Tue, 05 May 2009 06:30:34 GMT

it was the sky, touching the ground; it was the earth, reaching up to the heavens. the clouds lost themselves around me, as i rode home tonight, and they hugged me; they left their oh-so-sloppy kisses on my cheeks, on my hands gripping my motorcycle levers, beading up on my visor and slowly lingering on their way to my neck. and i never felt nervous about losing my footing, and i was sure where i was going and how i was getting home. to you.

last night, i didn't sleep well again. i woke up twice due to night sweats. and tonight, i know i'm going to be fine. you won't be with me, but that'll be ok. we'll be here again. and tonight i feel electric.

dwell — Wed, 22 Apr 2009 02:34:58 GMT

i took a day off this past friday and drove my new-to-me motorcycle up to Marin county. i rode along Lucas Valley Road since it was commensurate with my skill level and it was a fun idyll of a ride; the sun, sinuous tarmac, rolling green hills and a bunch of throbbing metal 'tween my legs.

there were a few turns that felt almost weightless, like the bike was reading my mind and it would just flow out of me like a song that my lips knew but my mind didn't remember. and then there was a decreasing radius turn where i fixated first on the sand and gravel in the turn, then i fixated on the trees, then i locked up both wheels and slid sideways all the while hoping to stay upright.

on saturday i took what ended up being a 12 hour motorcycle class from Lee Park's TOTAL CONTROL ADVANCED RIDING CLINIC, which sounds a lot better if you say it in a booming voice. but yeah, the instruction was great. we were divided into 3 groups of 6 riders each as there were 3 coaches total, including Lee Parks hisself. hey! i got the fist bump from him at the end of the day. b yeah.

there would be maybe 60-90 minutes of classroom instruction explaining the concepts of a particular exercise, then we would all head to the San Mateo Event center's large parking lot, do the drills individually and get immediate coach feedback. then back to the classroom, then back out to the range. repeat. the exercises started at just smooth trailbraking (the coach would watch for suspension pitch during acceleration to deceleration) to body positioning while slowly rolling around cones. it was a lot funner than i'm making it sound and i got to wear tight leather pants in public. around a bunch of other dudes also wearing tight leather pants. so all in all, it was definitely a good day?

dwell — Tue, 14 Apr 2009 08:06:43 GMT

so you want to grow old with me, or was that you just grow old of me? darling, don't you know, for this little boy -- for this little 5 year old boy trapped in a graying, slowly desiccating, thinly balding, tummy expanding 30-year-old-and-change of a man -- don't you know by now, that throwing your things into plastic bags and walking out, of threatening to walk out, of wanting to run away; don't you know that it gives me a rush every time you do it? the rush down, the rush back to being a young kid, the rush through hallways made of various substances and a rush to bad memories. don't you know that already? you've got to give something, or somethings gotta give.

we're trapped in a barrel, drowning in a barrel. curved inlets, let us out. let the the water give us rise. i want a way out, with you.

my voice, is mine. that sound -- the sound you like[d] -- that's just the inflection that my fingers make, the tone of my hands; i can't reteach them differently. let them dance that funny dance, let them move in the way that's natural for them. the tips have their own footwork and the music that they hear is theirs alone.

dwell — Thu, 05 Feb 2009 09:43:06 GMT

we'll make smoke of our insides, we'll blow it through the holes in our hearts and maybe one day it'll coalesce and become the firmament of our lives. maybe one day i'll stop running away from myself and from my past and from my future. it's past 1, i have about 5 or 6 hours before i need to wake up and start all over again and that's if my electronic master gives me a reprieve and doesn't start beeping and buzzing and walking all over my bedside table.

oh my love, it's time. it's time i faced up to things. i'm lost again, i've lost again and for so long i've felt like a wraith, a stand-in for the real me. emotions, experiences, they pass through me and into me and i float above it all. i want to feel again.

---
the rain just started, the rain that tattoos on the window, the rain that covers you and me.

dwell — Wed, 04 Feb 2009 08:37:00 GMT

using a bicycle pump, it takes about 125 pumps to get a 235/40-18 car tire from 20 psi to 40 psi. i know this because both tires on my right side were at around 20 psi this morning when i checked; the left side was at 38. every time i would pump up the right front, i would hear a distinct "psssssshhhhhaw" like old, drawn out sarcasm; i think it's got a leak somewhere. with my motoring luck, i probably ran over nails. at least i got a tricep workout from all of this. i will *clap* pump you up! and i'll do it again in 2 days no doubt!

dwell — Mon, 02 Feb 2009 00:26:09 GMT

no my lotus bun bun, i've never felt my world splinter. i've felt it drain from me, slowly, imperceptibly. you know why it happened, you know when.

you ask of me, "What have you learned ma petite cochon" and (ignoring the fact you always call me a piggy) you couldn't have used a better phrase. what i have learned.

little asian girl syndrome (LAGS) includes the following qualities:
1) wanting to get stronger for the sole purpose of being able to sit on people (usually their bf's/so's), this is could also be termed minor sumo wrestler dysmorphia (MSWD)
2) being able to drink grande coffees throughout the day without showing any ill effects
3) sleeping for over 10 hours a day, and snoring/grinding teeth for at least 1/2 that time
4) being extremely easy to tease
5) petulance (better than flatulence: 1/8 as objectionable with 4 times the charm)
6) utter adorability, complete lovability
7) if you treat them as little girls, they will naturally respond and start acting as little girls. this is cute for a bit, then can be slightly frightening
8) < intentionally left blank >
9) becoming insecure and/or needy when "Aunt Flo comes to visit"
10) being able to eat more than me while still retaining your feminine figure

you, your personality, reminds me of an expanse, a wonderfully sweeping grandeur full of promise.