we’re playing first, by the way.

so, let me elaborate. i feel like i’ve been sitting around for weeks on end, with nothing to say, nothing to write, nothing to feel. it’s not one of those voids, however, that is an emptiness, but it is still damn frustrating. i sit down, to write, or to sing a song, and i can only write the same old things, or sing the same old songs. it’s annoying. i don’t like feeling uninspired. maybe it’s school sucking the life out of me. some [japanese] artists believed that they are a limited well of artistry, kurosawa, for example tried to kill himself nearing the end of his career, because he felt his films lacked the vitality that his earlier films had. more about him, here and here. i don’t think that’s happening, i’m really just not in a good mood right now, and kind of nervous about saturday. but really, i’m using hyperbole. nothing is ever as bad as it seems to be, it’s just that warping of telephone wires and fiber optics, that free air between your face and the crt, those pixels that distort your world from mine.

and sometimes i get a little frustrated with that inarticulateness of writing and the dissociation that plagues it. i suppose that writing is an attempt at effacing this dissociation. that brings us all back to the recurring questioning of why we have weblogs. i have to look back at the first day i wrote in this to remember.

[news flash: well, my sister just called me from l.a., and told me she just had a conversation with anthony kiedis (of Point Break fame*) at some restaurant down there about carrot cake (and the restaurant's lack of it). how many famous people have you met?

i met redd foxx once in las vegas when i was (roughly) 12. or maybe i was 10. sometime between the age of 7 and 13. i did meet him, though. i remember that, and i remember him saying "a picture is worth a thousand words" and handing us a postcard of him with his face on it. i don't even think he signed it, he was busy gambling. it was cool, anyway. he's cool.]

brandon comes in on sunday, perhaps he’ll inspire me to do something. better yet, maybe he’ll post something here that is wittier than the banal banter i’ve been providing you kind folks.

i drove around town today. the new red house painters almost made me cry.

i took down the louisiana question, ’cause i promised i’d lay off the south. consider the south laid off.

just learned that this page looks like shite on netscape (it may look like shite on anything else, but it looks worst on netscape). i will try and fix that soon. what i am really here to tell you is that we’re playing this weekend at secluded alley works. here’s all the vital information, i’d love to see you there:

june 30th
doors at 8 music at 9
at secluded alley works (+21, sorry kids)
12th and yesler

the revolutionary hydra
w/ the cantankerous collective
martin youth auxiliary (chris from death cab)
circus of the stars

i feel a little dry of inspiration.

i was walking upstairs today, i think i was getting something, but i have absolutely no idea what i was geting, i forgot what, i think it was shocked out of me, because as soon as i get to the top of the stairs, i see steve west (our cat) in the middle of the room, straddling a little blue stuffed dog. direct quote from jason, “hey! you got no unit cat! you have no business humpin’ anything!”

well, he doesn’t seem to care. he and i had a little talk about this, and he says he won’t do it anymore (at least when i wasn’t around). i told him, “i don’t have sex in front of you, so don’t hump things around me.” i believe we have reached an understanding, but only time will tell.

saturday i went to a jonas’ house, who is moving to l.a. sadly, this is the 3rd friend making the seattle - l.a. transplant. i did, however, make off like a bandit after his party. he gave away a bunch of his comic figures, so i got the maxx, a sentinel, a ned’s atomic dustbin tape, and a replica of the gun in blade runner. yep.

the poll only has 9 people who have voted so far. i’m going to add a new one, because i’m not that interested in the question anymore. i can’t think of anything else to do. according to my nedstat counter, we have jumped the shark. woo-hoo!

tonight, good hunting to you, sir:

the worst thing is when i go home to california, because i always get bored there, without fail. my only options are to watch tv, or to bother my mom, following her around the house saying, “i’m bored. i’m bored. i’m bored. i’m bored.” when i was younger, this would cause me to get a load of chores to do (i never actually did them, i was just being threatened with them, so that i would stop being so obnoxious), but now, my mom actually tries to find things for me to do, because she knows i don’t visit often, and if every time i visited, she just gave me chores, well, then i probably wouldn’t come around often, would i?

now, i’ve been thinking about this road trip i’m planning on taking this summer, and i just had lunch with mika today, and she said, “don’t drive through louisiana!” and she invoked the whole 60 minutes thing, where she says she saw people being pulled over there by crooked cops looking for trouble with out of staters and stuff. kind of freaked me out, and all i could think of was easy rider. i recall someone else thinking the same thing, but for the life of me i can’t remember whom.

so my question is this: is louisiana that bad? miguel was stationed there for a few years, and rick and candice just got back from there a while ago. miguel said it sucked, and rick and candice said it was great. not to be overly race conscious, but miguel is filipino, rick and candice are caucasian. does that make a difference (uh-oh, maybe touching on controversy - will stop now). i tend to think 60 minutes just likes scaring the shit out of people - perhaps that’s just me be overly-cynical about being cynical (in that i don’t doubt that bad things happen there, but 60 minutes blows the shit up like a balloon at a parade). do you have first hand experience with this? please, tell me. and there’s a quick little survey on the side, too. cast a vote. you just might win something (okay, probably not).

heh. last night we went and played basketball. i haven’t shot a basket in at least 2 or more years. i was considerably off last night, but it was fun. the kids i went with (jason, jesse, and ben), were off just as much, but ben won. we played “around the world” and “horse.” we are basketball fiends.

on our way home, i tried to jump over a tennis net. i did the first time, on our way there. i cleared it just fine. this last time, my foot got caught on the net, and i fell on my face. i fall a lot, because i try to do a lot of stupid shit, ’cause when i get bored, i try not to stay that way.

oh what a sob story this blog has become. i vow to abandon all the negativity of the previous posts about this class, and only update you on progress, because that’s a postive outlook. stay positive, yes. i want to thank everyone that’s been so supportive and wrote me nice things about sticking it out, and i want to give a hearty “fuck you” to those that have griped about my griping (as if there were very many of you).

in any case, that’s all behind us now.

leroy, one of my professors last quarter is a brilliant teacher and lecturer, and he was talking about this guy he knew who wanted to be a writer. at one point, he almost gave up, because he could never think of anything to write. he didn’t, though, he just kept on trucking, and eventually took writing as a habit, and he wrote everyday, regardless of what he was feeling, and what he was feeling about what he was writing. regardless, even, of his lack of anything to write about. at the end of the month, he’d go through all his writing, and pick out the things that he thought were exquisite.

he ended up with only a handful of things, but these things were damn fine works. tiny sentences or just little pieces and ideas. he took these and saw what he liked in it, and saw what was good in them. and he learned from them.

i’m not going to stop writing just because i’m busy or i can’t think of things to write about. i am going to stop complaining about that class, unless it’s really funny complaining, and even then, it’s going to be really funny shit. like when you see someone get hit in the crotch with a ball, or when someone farts. it’s funny, regardless, and you can’t help but laugh.

so that will be the standard rule. let’s call it the “crotch-ball rule.” if it qualifies, you’ll hear about it, otherwise, expect no more complaints (about that anyway). but then again, don’t expect anything from me, because then anything will be a pleasant surprise.

this must be quick, i’m on a break.

i think i’m going to try and stop talking about that class from now on, even though i have little else going on. this is hard going, now. my inability to articulate myself (in english and japanese) as well as the void of events to be written about is taking it’s toll on the content of this weblog. i know that weveryone runs into this point at some time. perhaps not everyone, but a good majority of people, but i’m going to find something to write about. i swear i will. i don’t know if i’ve written about it just yet, but maybe i’ll tell you about leroy’s class and how writing for the sake of writing is necessary if you want to enjoy being a writer. dig? well, maybe not.

late for class. must return.

(token japanese class complaint of the day) hm. 3 more hours of japanese homework after 4 hours of class?! really, what kind of fucking class are they running here?! how stupid am i, to not know any of this stuff?!

anyways, i’m catching up on email write now, so if you wrote me lately, and i haven’t written back, my apologies. things are hectic, and i am tired.

3 hours late to school today. no biggie. although i did miss a quiz and wasn’t able to hand in my homework. i also did get dirty looks from teachers this time as well. i have a quiz tomorrow, but judging from the 3 hours of wasted time i used to do the homework (as in, i didn’t understand a majority of it), studying would be futile. i need help.

and all this blog has become is a bitching session - me vs. 2nd year intensive japanese. ugh. bore snore bore.

i ran into scott today, too, and all i could do was complain about that damn class. i need a positive outlook from now on. how do you get a positive outlook when you bust your ass for 8 hours a day and gain no ground? it’s a sisyphean dilemma, and i have no idea what to do about it.

boo! i hate school! i was about half an hour late to school today, which is no biggie, i don’t get dirty looks from teachers, because i’m smooth and suave and cool, and they know that i’m untouchable, as my father is a powerful politician and if they talk bad about me i’ll just tell him and he’ll get them fired. this grandiose privelege of being a bratty kid applies also to parking tickets (or infractions of any kind), taxes (which i still haven’t filed), and lines of all kinds. (i.e., i don’t have to wait in them. ever.)

just kidding. i still hate school, wasn’t kidding about that part. here i am taking my 20 minute lunch break to blog it up. i’m sitting in the back of the room hoping my eyes don’t glaze over too much and that no one will notice that i have not a clue what the hell anyone is saying. but it happens, and then i get called on to answer a question about something that i don’t know about at all because i didn’t even understand the original directions. and then when i ask what’s going on, i get an explanation in japanese, which i (if i haven’t yet made it clear) do not understand. i eventually reply, “wakarimasen“.

but really it’s not all that bad. i wish i had something else to talk about though.

oh yes! shirts. i mean red ones. people have a lot these days. i wish i had a yellow one. not bright golden yellow, but a paler, almost (but not quite!) pastel one. i don’t know when class starts again, but it’s probably soon.

good day sir.