feliz navidad, everybody.

yesterday's flight was packed... when i bought the ticket, i wasn't able to choose a seat, because there was only one availible... 24B. it was a center seat and i wasn't looking forward to spending 6 hours squished between big, smelly people. 24B was towards the back of the plane, so i was among the first to board. i made my way back and found the row empty... but waited patiently for the strangers that'd i'd be rubbing shoulders with. all kinds of people began filling the seats behind me and in front of me... i was settled early, so i just watched the people march in one-at-a-time. as 8.30pm (departure time) soon approached, i was joyfully getting used to the idea that i might be flying with space to selfishly consume 3 entire seats.... room to put my feet up, to lay down, to even invite that cute girl cramped in the front (riiiiiight, like i somehow grew some guts).

was i fortunate to have hoarded an entire row? nah. but who did i get to share my domain with? a chinese FOB and a hot hot hot chica. [austin powers] yeah, baby yeeeaaaah [/austin powers] (about the girl, not the guy).

i'm not proud of the fact that after about 15 minutes of silence, she spoke to me first (i really have to work on my pick-up lines or conversation starters or whatever). she cracked the ice, but i whipped out my sledgehammer and was set on making myself a slurpee. we talked, we laughed, we had a couple drinks (the flight attendants hooked us up)... i would've been even more aggressive (in theory) if i didn't find out she had a boyfriend (in addition to another guy she's attracted to). but whatever. i still got my flirt on. she'll be back in new york after her two weeks in vancouver. nothing romantic can come out of this... she's taken and she's not christian (something very important to me) and she's not really my type... but she's cute. haha. i think i made a friend.

oh yeah... she may become famous one day (she's an aspiring singer) with a record deal in the works... she may get signed as early as january. who knows, i may have made buddies with the next alicia or christina or britney (okay... hopefully better than those folks).

anyways. it's christmas. i must head to church soon... gotta wrap some gifts. peace on earth and peace to you!

my flight leaves in a few hours...

soon, i'll be enjoying the soothing nags of my mom while in the (not-so-distant) background my dad relays messages to her (thinking that his pleas to make me go to law school will be more persuasive coming from her mouth... which is true... but still!). i'll be walking through ankle-deep puddles to get from the parking lot to the ghetto mall. i'll be sleeping more than i should... eating more than i should... and watching tv more than i should.

sigh. so is the life of a tacoman!

hahaha... hopefully i'll get to spend some quality time with my brother and sister. do some snowboarding, while trying not to break any bones. chill with my old church friends. and just enjoy time away from the busy city. i'll try to keep posting while i'm away... for those few but faithful readers.

merry christams to all and to all a good night!

so i typed out this long self-analysis of why my thinking is all warped and how i need to change it if i want a job and/or girlfriend... but i think i can be more concise:

i'm arrogant, insecure, greedy, paranoid, vain and neurotic... all at the same time. i concentrate my thoughts and time into trying to find that which would feed all (or most) of those voracious monsters. the efforts are frustrating and exhausting and if i continue acquiescing to the beasts, i'll likely use an arm.

so what's the solution then?
quit my job at the zoo and let Someone else deal with the animals. i'll stop complaining and whining. i'll focus on building my character and strengthening my relationship with God. i'll let God take care of the other stuff.

(i just hope i can put some of this theory into practice).

i get a handful of people that visit my site through a seach engine. they're searching for one of the lovely ladies that reside on the right hand side of my page. or for pics of the sneakers i mention occasionally. sometimes users are even looking for me (scary). however, one of the more common searches is for blue 9 burger. so for the sake of those people, here's the lowdown:

blue 9 burger
92 third ave (between 12th & 13th)
new york, ny 10003
212.979.0053
fresh meat, never frozen; fresh produce; fries made with real potoatoes; milk shakes made with real ice cream (basically, the in-n-out of new york)
i'll gladly accept thank-you burgers for all this marketing work i'm doing!

there.
now back to me...

err, yeah... nothing new here.
so if you want to read something that shakes my jello, read this.

i'm running out of things to say these days. i'm pretty much feeling/thinking the same things i've been dwelling on for the past few weeks/months/whatever... there's no point in reiterating them. i can run through what i did yesterday and last night... i can write about how i think men's magazines suck these days... i can mention that i think i have the smallest bladder known to man... i can talk about this growing fear that i'll live a mediocre life, throw in the wish that i'll be able to lead a filthy rich life, maybe marry a sugar momma... i can whine... i can muse... i can rant... i can contemplate.

i can do a bunch of things... but i have a hard time finding the thing i want to do. if i sit still i can barely feel the rhythmic tapping in my chest... and my brain can't seem to function without echoing things four, five or six times... like i'm trying to sing a song while half a dozen people are shouting the tune at different parts.

so i'll sit at my desk.
waiting.
for some mini-bubble of an emotion to work its way up to the surface of my jello-y insides.

los straight jackets perform tonight on late night with conan o' brien. they're a californian, instrumental, surfer-rock band that wear mexican wrestling masks when they perform. they--a bunch of gringos--also only speak in espanol during their concerts. they play the only rendition of "my heart will go on" (yes, the titanic song) that i'll even consider listening to. i first heard them earlier this year when albert popped one of their albums into the cd player during our road trip to florida. what a road trip that was! 3 single guys (al, pat and i) rented a neon (woohoo!) and drove down to the sunshine state. highlights of the trip included making sand castles ("sand walls" and "sand chicks" too), buying a hat that says "rodeo, america's #1 sport", and... hmm... yeah, that's about it. the end.

my life is exciting, isn't it? even when i go on vacations.

los straight jackets are almost on. gotta tune in. peace out.
(hey, all of those sentences ended with a preposition... my english teacher would be so disappointed in me)

i really like this article.

i was soo exhausted last night (and pretty much all day yesterday). went to sleep before midnight.

i watched monk last night (mondays, 8-9pm, abc). it reminds me alot of matlock-- i grew up watching that gray man solving all kinds of crazy cases. he's probably one of the reasons i even considered going into law. that guy can not throw a baseball though (i remember the most random things sometimes).

i've been feeling pretty anti-social these days. my brain tells me i shouldn't be going out so much and spending money. but for other non-monetary reasons, i just don't feel like meeting up with people and schmoozing. i don't know what it is... i just feel like i'm saying the same things to people... and their end of the convos are probably only slightly different from the one they had yesterday with what's-her-face. i realize it often takes effort to get to really know someone and i have barely enough energy to sit up to watch monk. i hope this is just a physical fatigue and not an indication of some deeper struggle. i'm too tired to arm-wrestle with anyone right now (except maybe a cute girl or two or three). c'mon...don't give me that look... can't a guy joke anymore?

Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me.
I lift my lamp beside the golden door.
-- emma lazarus

i'm tired. i'm poor. i'm a huddled mass yearning to breathe free... but i don't see any golden doors around. and even if i see them, they're probably closed to me. "no robots allowed". i'm not talking about jobs. i'm just talking about life in general.

i need passion in my life. i have lots of interests... but no passions. what does it take for something to jump from one camp to the other? emotions? time? divine intervention?

i can't sleep because i'm fascinated by this show on mtv, music in high places. unwritten law (a punk band) is playing an acoustic set at yellowstone park. they sound great and the scenery is beautiful.

i'm getting more and more excited about the fashion production job. it's weird because i've been recently thinking about responsibility and how i'm in the constant state of shunning it-- trying, unsuccessfully, to rid my life of it. the position, however, will put so much weight on my shoulders. the production team is held accountable for nearly everything at this particular company and if i'm thrust into the gooey center of it, i know i'll get stuck with alot of that not-so-caramelly 'sponsibility.

the challenge is exciting to me though and i know i'll learn alot about running a company (especially a fashion company, but any company, in general). i'll have to be aggressive to become a better negotiator. i'll have to learn how to talk the talk. i dunno... it sounds fun, doesn't it?

we'll see... we'll see.

changing the subject:
i'm searching too hard for my identity. i'm trying too much to figure out who i am... where i belong. not just vocationally, but in my social life and spiritual life too. it's almost to the point that i obsess over the idea of finding myself... of coming to a point where i say, "eureka! i get it now. it all makes sense. I make sense." the thought occurred to me that maybe i should shift the focus away from my pseudo-complicated self and onto the "bigger picture"... onto God. maybe as i investigate and interview the Author, i'll learn a little something about this dark comedy called, roboto.

ya think?

it's worth a shot, right? today's dose of God-ness: God is a Thrower of (frickin') bones.

should i work in fashion? i've been shadowing/interning/working-for-free at jane's office for the last couple days. there's a position in the production dept. that's opening up. it's a small but pretty established label. working in production is stressful, but i think i'd learn alot, especially given the size of the company. it's something that i'm strongly considering... interning there has been fun/exciting and i'm up for the challenge of jumping in and getting greasy.

i still have yet to hear from the music job. i think it's still my first choice, but the more i think about it, the more i'm beginning to see the benefits of the fashion job. besides... $3000 clothing allowance! then again, hundreds of CDs...

music... clothes... i like it all.

a few months ago, i was searching the internet for some kind of calender software (free and for mac), so i can keep track of birthdays, appointments, dates (haha) and such. my options were limited but i settled on this PandoCalendar. in addition to keeping my dates straight, the calendar has a charles spurgeon devotional that pops up every day and a bible verse that appears every sunday. today's really spoke to me:

A Quiet Heart
December 12
by Charles Haddon Spurgeon

"In quietness and in confidence shall be your strength" (Isaiah 30:15).

It is always weakness to be fretting and worrying, questioning and mis-trusting. What can we do if we wear ourselves to skin and bone? Can we gain anything by fearing and fuming? Do we not unfit ourselves for action and unhinge our minds for wise decision? We are sinking by our struggles when we might float by faith.

Oh, for grace to be quiet! Why run from house to house to repeat the weary story which makes us more and more heart-sick as we tell it? Why even stay at home to cry out in agony because of wretched forebodings which may never be fulfilled? It would be well to keep a quiet tongue, but it would be far better if we had a quiet heart. Oh, to be still and know that Jehovah is God!

Oh, for grace to be confident in God! The holy One of Israel must defend and deliver His own. He cannot run back from His solemn declarations. We may make sure that every word of His will stand though the mountains should depart. He deserves to be confided in; and if we would display confidence and consequent quietness, we might be as happy as the spirits before the throne.

Come, my soul, return unto thy rest, and lean thy head upon the bosom of the LORD Jesus.

i took a shower this morning for my temp interview (i think it went so-so, but who knows? they didn't even ask me to take the dumb tests), but i've been feeling really tense lately, so when i got home i decided to take a long, hot bath-- bubbles, bath salts, body wash... the whole 9. i felt so relaxed and calm. i could've easily fallen asleep right there in the tub. after a bit of just enjoying the warm water womb, i sat up to start the deep cleansing process. applying the body wash, using the wash cloth to lather and rub in a circular motion, rinse, repeat. i don't like the idea of rinsing myself off with the stale, dirty water that i used to scrub my body down... so i ended up taking a shower after my bath.

i didn't realize how dirty i was until i discovered a nice brown ring in the tub when i was done. pleasant, i know.

and that's all i have to say about that.

is it possible to overdose on MSG? i got plenty of sleep last night... i shouldn't be feeling this tired. i'm blaming it on the lack of sunlight or the kim-chee bokeumbap from han bat. it seriously gets pitch black at 4pm. what kind of bizarro world is this?

it's probably all for the better. i have to be in tip-top shape for tomorrow's rigorous trials. i have an interview at a temp agency. they're gonna test my word, excel and powerpoint skills. if you've never taken these competency tests, please let me explain how stupendously challenging they are: you sit at a computer. the test administrator runs an application that's disguised as MS Word (or excel or powerpoint). it is, in fact, a program that tests your proficiency in said software. you are prompted with instructions to perform various tasks that utilize the technologically-pioneering, utterly-ingenious functions that make mr. gates proud. be ready to know what to do when prompted to "highlight and bold" ... "save the file" -- wait it gets harder-- "open the file" ... "cut and paste". and just when you think it can't get any more difficult they ask you to "print" --- to print for chrissakes! i'm torn between getting the rest i need and staying up to study for the mind-flexing exam that awaits me tomorrow.

[chandler bing] can i be any more sarcastic/arrogant/cocky? [/chandler bing]

i'm starting to get comfortable leading praise at the 5pm service. no longer am i pee-pee terrified of opening my eyes and looking out at the congregation. (somewhat) gone is my phobia of kissing the microphone. and my hands are dry enough to actually hold onto the pick.

okay... so my nerves weren't ever really that bad. but my point is that i'm getting fairly comfortable worshipping while standing in front of people. but i still have a ways to go.

jane invited me to a b-day party one of her co-workers was throwing for her boyfriend. guests included photographers, art directors, fashion designers, a costa rican surfer/bartender and a mr. jack daniels. needless to say, an interesting mix. schmoozing is fun, but i realize that i often prefer a (not-always-so) quiet night of board games and pizza. does this mean i'm old and/or boring? maybe just low-maintenance.

scrabble and domino's, anyone?

one of my noonas had a holiday party today out in jersey. i sooooo want my own house now. she has a nice townhouse with 3 bathrooms, an "office", a leather couch and a-- gulp-- walk-in closet. i don't think i could be further from that right now. i have more clothes than ever and the tiniest closet in new york city. i think i've employed practically every "space-saver" technique out there, but i still have stack/piles/mountains of loose clothing all over my apartment.

anyways, the party was fun. yummy food + board games = fun fun fun. all for the low, low price of a $2.80 bus ticket out to glen rock, new jersey. here're the highlights a la sportscenter: ...chicken salad and ritz-esque crackers... 9-layer dip, plenty of jalapenos... sweet grape manischewitz wine... a high-pitched squeal "haaaaa!" (jonah's gum-bleaching story)... "tae-bo", "pez dispenser", "harry potter" and a whole lotta clapping and high-fives (cranium highlights)... the most stressful party game ever...

hahah, i'm sure you're confused. i guess you had to be there. so next time you should come.

i have the most persistent pain in my back in the history of my 24 year, 5 month, 11 day existence. many have tried and none have succeeded in massaging out the stinkin' knot in my right upper-back/lower-shoulder. it's not a horribly painful ailment; it's just annoying as hell.

i'll stop whining now. nothing new is going on in my life... i really desperately need an income. it's something that i should definitely be praying more about. part of me is confident that God will provide, part of me is afraid i'll dig myself into too great a financial hole to climb out of. i think i too often deal with my problems by ignoring them (which is probably why i'm not on my knees asking God for deliverance). i don't want to over-dramaticize every trivial issue that comes my way either. i guess it's a matter of finding a balance. i know right now though, i must pray.

and pray i shall.

i was killing some time at a record store today. most of the listening stations were busted (or they operate in a counter-intuitive way and my feeble mind couldn't figure it out). i did manage to listen to the new flaming lips album. i like the title: yoshimi battles the pink robots. the music is pretty good too. i wanted to listen to the beck album and bjork's greatest hits, but those machines weren't letting me preview the songs.

as i was browsing the book section, i came across a book about love-- or so i thought. i opened it up and read the "instructions". apparently you're supposed to think (hard) about a yes-or-no question regarding your love life while "stroking" the textured cover. then, you flip through the book (without peeking, i presume) and open the book to a "random" page where an answer awaits you. it pretty much operates like a 600-page, magic 8-ball. the "answers" to my questions included: "now is not the right time", "proceed with caution", and "giddyup!"-- whatever that means. all of love's answers, right at my fingertips... i had to tear myself away from the book. haha, riiiiight.

i picked up kurt cobain's diary and started from the beginning. reading about life in suburban washington state made me a little nostalgic. tacoma, olympia, aberdeen... it's so weird seeing kurt write about my old stomping ground. i only had a chance to read the first couple entries. i don't envy much about his early years: performing while knowing that everyone is constantly judging your every move, schmoozing with industry folks to try to sell your talent, working odd jobs to pay for gas to drive to shows. it made me wonder if i'll ever get to a point where i'm so passionate about something, that i'd be willing to put myself through whatever gets thrown at me. i mean, i just wish i had a purpose for doing whatever it is i'm doing. instead i'm just floating in a storm while my arms and legs are starting to cramp up. if i had any sense of direction, i'd start doggy-paddling.

drinking salt water sucks.

where am i? i hear the clock ticking over the whirring and buzzing of my computer. and i just stare at the pimpled, off-white wall in front of me. i inhale deeply and smell nothing. i can't seem to fix my mind on anything substantial... it just echoes the simple observations my senses make while slouching at my desk. there's so much i should be doing right now, but ... i don't know... i can't even think of a reason why i'm not doing them.

i felt/thought something odd today. i think i was on the train, maybe waiting for the train. something in my conversation with dave was humorous, but in that short flash of time that it takes for thoughts to actually form the appropriate expression on my face, i felt something weird. i don't know why, but my cheeks just seemed heavier-- like either i gained some chubb on my face or my smiling muscles got weaker. it was a one-time and quickly passing thought and i actually think i repressed it until it just came back to my attention while staring at my wall.

more sighs. is this what growing up is supposed to be like?

okay... i had a feeling i'd be sore today... but i didn't think i'd be THIS sore. it hurts to walk. it hurts to inhale deeply. it hurts to lift my hand to push the button to signal the bus driver to stop. it hurts to cough. the worst is sneezing. i know it's coming but i can't keep my entire upper body from jerking and causing all those little muscles over my ribs from stabbing the funk out of me.

it's odd. tackle football managed to avoid only the essential muscles required for playing guitar and singing. either my guitar-playing/singing muscles are so buffed that they are incapable of becoming sore OR God was looking out for me.

i received my last unemployment check this week. no more government subsidized playing.

to do:
- sell soul to corporate america

sigh.