Category: lil’ chino

the coming spawn

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lonely people and holiday inns


Fell of the wagon yesterday folks, what can I say – it happens. Had a good hump-day, did an incredible amount of work at work – so much so that I fear, should something new not land on my desk tomorrow, that I’ve finished a week’s worth of work in a single day. Curse my exceptional efficiency! But, instead of writing an intro here, I’ll default to what I wrote yesterday. Yeah… I did write, but it wasn’t worth posting… just an intro. So here it is, I can’t stand tossing out effort.

Tuesday night finds both Sharaun and I in the computer room, her having made me mute some newly downloaded prospective tunes I was auditioning so she can listen to some bootlegged Justin Timberlake show where he plays songs of his upcoming album. Sounds terrible, like it was recorded in the engine room of a ship with a Fisher Price microphone – but I suppose I’m one to talk. She’s loves some Tenderlegs… and I must admit he has a team of good producers, but I’m just not a fan. Anyway… let’s move along to what little else there is this evening, shall we?

Cleaning up around my desk today, I found a wad of Taiwanese and Chinese bills. I know the rough conversion rates in my head, seems I’d have just about $100 in USD if I were to exchange it. Made a mental note to remember to bring it next time I’m in an international airport, so I can trade-up for some real Christian money, not that heathen BS that’s worthless in God’s country. Seeing the money there got me thinking: I had decided not to exchange it upon leaving the Orient the last time because I figured I’d be back soon enough to warrant holding onto it. I mean, I was there so many times last year, wracking up 100,000+ flyer miles going back and forth, that I just assumed I’d be back before too long. Turns out that my baby-instigated travel moratorium has been more successful that I envisioned – and I haven’t been back in nearly a year. This doesn’t bother me, actually; I’d now much rather stay put. I’m slowly accepting my new role as house-bound parent.

Printed a new picture of Keaton today, hung it on the fabric walls of my cubicle with the others. I feel like I need new pictures every so often, as she’s changing so much right now. The only problem is that having all those images of her looking at me and smiling make me want to be here even less. It’s not quite as bad as if I had a picture of a beckoning Natalie Portman under the sheets in my bedroom, but it’s close. Maybe that was a bad comparison, since the reason for wanting to leave isn’t shared across the two scenarios, but it’s what came to mind.

Ended up reading a bunch of indymedia.org reports on the Israel/Lebanon/Hezbollah conflict/war today, spurred by a comment Thom Yorke made on Radiohead’s official messageboard. Now, I’ll be the first to admit that I actually stopped reading indymedia about six months ago. Overwhelmed by the limpwristed, milquetoast, liberalness of the articles; the tree-hugging, everthing’s-a-human-rights-violation dreamworld the authors presented was too over the top for even my strong liberal leanings. I mean, you can get a sense of what I mean from their “about” page mission-statement:

The Independent Media Center is a network of collectively run media outlets for the creation of radical, accurate, and passionate tellings of the truth. We work out of a love and inspiration for people who continue to work for a better world, despite corporate media’s distortions and unwillingness to cover the efforts to free humanity.

Sorry, I just puked up some chai tea and cous-cous.

I will admit, however, that I find it incredibly amazing to be able to read independent reports written from those sympathetic to the Lebanese side of the fighting really was interesting. Seems, rightfully so or not, that most of the international “mainstream” media reports are from Israel’s point of view. As thousands of refugees are being evacuated from Lebanon into southern Cyprus, the Cyprus “chapter” of indymedia is where you’ll find a lot of Lebanon-viewpoint reporting, and I’d recommend it just to get a different angle on things. For the interested, Thom’s comment pointed directly to this article (caution, link contains some graphic images) and urged Britain to “… throw Tony Blair out of office NOW.”

War is bad, missiles and death and broken families are bad; but we knew all that before reading the article, didn’t we? Let’s change subjects.

The iPod seemed to be stuck in some crazy Paul McCartney->Grateful Dead->Paul McCartney->Grateful Dead rut today; sometimes that “random” function is super fishy. Through some short-term data studying, I’ve decided I can get through about 100 songs a day on random. Of course, this includes a good deal of “I don’t feel like hearing this right now” skipping – but nevertheless, 100 songs/day isn’t a bad listening pace.

Goodnight people of the internets.

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the camera lives in the diaper bag


Happy Sunday folks! Had a nice long-seeming weekend. Mowed the lawn, hung out with friends, had a slight beer overdose, bought and assembled some patio furniture, pulled weeds… yeah it was a good weekend. Need more like that, or a vacation… one or the other. Not much for writing today, but I did manage to upload Keaton’s five months photos to her gallery (it’s not huge, but it bests last weeks small offering), enjoy! I can hardly believe she’s five months old now, it really has gone by fast (just like everyone said it would, imagine that).

Sunday before I Sharaun and I headed out the door for church, I, for some reason, started thinking about an old “cyber” friend of mine I’d met through my old days of Beatles trading. This fellow, Dave, and I became more than just regular tape-traders (yes, this was back before the days of sub-25¢ CR-Rs. We exchanged e-mail on a fairly regular basis, and eventually met in the flesh at a Beatlefest (kinda like a Star Trek convention but for Beatles-nerds). Over time, our correspondence dropped off, but we’d sometimes get or send a nostalgic “catch up” mail. Searching through my old mail for the last valid address I had for Dave, the best I could do was something from 2004. I figured I’d give it a shot, and wrote a three-sentence “hey there” mail to see if the address bounced. Later that day, I logged on to write Monday’s blog entry and saw a new comment from Dave and his wife. My first thought was that they’d got my mail, loaded my site from the link in my signature, and commented on the blog. Nope. Turns out they found me randomly, also spurred by a random “I wonder what that guy I used to like talking to” thought. Being that we both had this thought on the same day, some two years after our last correspondence – I’m totally convinced we had some of mind-meld going on. Crazy.

Got a great idea for the Halloween party this weekend, can’t leak it though – I want it to be a surprise. I love that our Halloween party is going to be four-years running this year. Can’t wait.

Goodnight.

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someday i will have to go to a funeral


Thursday night; this week flew. Sharaun’s at the gym (which I pronounce “gime,” as a play on how foreign the word is to me), and I just put Keaton down. I feel like I’ve become an expert at putting Keaton down. I have the touch, the knack, what she needs. I know exactly how long to hold her before she’ll be able to handle the hold-bed transition, know how tightly to cling to her arms and legs while they do her pre-sleep flail, and am an expert at calming her down. This is an immense source of pride for me, you have to understand that. I daresay that I’m actually better at getting down than her mom, and that’s a bold assertion. But that’s me. Boldly sitting here on the couch, the iPod shuffling up the Sundays (I think to mock my boldness), and watching that precious little girl sleeping soundly in her crib. Bold, I say.

I’m turning thirty this year, and I’ve never been to a funeral. I look at this as something to be joyful about. Sure, I’ve had people around me die – but, despite some being blood relatives, I wouldn’t consider myself having had been truly “close” to those that are now gone. That, in and of itself, is kind of sad to even think about. Watching family members pass away having never developed much beyond an acquaintance-level relationship with them. I do take some comfort, though, in the fact that the distance between me and those relatives no longer here was geography-driven – and I didn’t have much of a practical chance at developing those bonds. Lament over lost time aside, the fact still stands that I’ve never once attended a funeral – be it the funeral of a relative, friend, or acquaintance.

I bring the anomaly up because, as I write this, I’m sitting at home on an “extended” lunch break babysitting – while Sharaun attends a funeral. No one close (as if that callous statement somehow makes it better). The woman was a “yard duty” at her school, someone she interacted with quite often. A lot of the faculty and staff turned out, and Sharaun wanted to go pay her respects.

I’m lucky, you know. Someday I will have to go to a funeral, like it or not.

As I grow older, I find that the number of things which I allow to affect me emotionally – specifically those which impact me sufficiently to bring tears or sniffles – has grown. I think having a child has a lot to do with this as well, but I noticed the increase even before crossing that life threshold. Yeah… prior to Keaton, and before my old age, I can remember crying as a child, and at the end of Schindler’s List (y’know, the part with the rocks on the grave?), and that’s about it. All those times I “cried” so cheated-on girlfriends would take me back it was just lab-tears, whipped up for the moment. But now… I fear I’ve turned soft. Know how I know? I saw this picture online the other day, and, without even reading the tearjerking accompanying article, I nearly lost it. That is a human being.

Had my final Lasik follow-up last week, my eyes are doing great and seem to have settled out at 20/15. The nighttime halos that the doctor said I may have, and that I did indeed have, are now reduced so much that I don’t notice them but are supposed to go away completely within three months post-op. The only side-effect that’s still lingering is the extra dryness in my eyes. It’s gotten better than before, but I still carry around drops and usually use them a few times a day. That’s supposed to go away for the “vast majority” of patients within 6mos at the most, I’m just waiting. Again, I think this is some of the best money I’ve ever spent. Restoring my vision to something I can wake up to… that’s just awesome.

Goodnight.

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wasps in the grass


Slow night, spent most of my time and energy making a new short film. Starring Keaton, this one showcases her relatively newfound vocal talents. Go ahead and give it a good watchin’, you know you want to. (Sharaun liked this one so much she urged me to submit it to YouTube, so I could maybe… win money or something…)

Keeping in somewhat of a theme I’ve got going lately, I stumbled on this middle east related link today: an illustrated/annotated “who hates who” matrix of middle east countries/affiliations and other world powers. Good for quick reference when dealing with stories about the incredibly complex and history-rooted relationships over there.

I mentioned yesterday that I mowed the lawn this past weekend, and that was true. What I left out were the gory details of the event. I mowed the lawn at 1pm in the afternoon, at that time wunderground.com said the temperature in Whereilive, CA was 102°. That’s hot. About halfway through the job I took off my shirt in an attempt to cool down (only in the backyard, I’ve not become comfortable enough with my hairy back to go shirtless out front yet). Any outside laborer or nomadic desert dweller will tell you that, in the obscene heat and burning sun, clothes are your friend – and taking them off only makes things worse. But, I didn’t care. Pushing that mower around, baking and sweating, my core temperature must’ve been up there. By the time I was done, I was red-cheeked and covered in sweat. Coming inside I felt like a hot coal, my insides radiating heat, only time and a cool shower able to help my finally get comfortable. Yeah, the sacrifices I make for that lawn…

By the way, did you know that wasps like to hide in long, cool grass? And, furthermore, mowing over them sends them up in angry clouds by the hundreds? As if the heat wasn’t enough, I was fleeing wasps the whole time.

That’s it for today, until tomorrow my friends. Love ya.

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good for the goose


8:30pm Sunday and I just put Keaton down while Sharaun headed to Wal Mart. On a lark, I looked up “homemade brownie recipes” online, and discovered we had all the makings for a “from scratch” fudge-brownie recipe. So, not only did I change the baby and put her down, I’ve got some baking in the oven as well. After that’s done, I think I’ll scrapbook, darn some socks, and work on my needlepoint. (The joke is me doing many womanly things, if it missed you). Was a good weekend, continuing my spurt of personal productivity. I jigsaw’d the traced wolf-shaped cutouts for this years Halloween prop, mowed the lawn despite baking in the 100°+ heat, and finished putting up the last of the garage organizing leftovers from last weekend. Also managed to mix in a good bit of leisure, playing (and losing) in a pool tournament at a friend’s party, eating some awesome home-cooked Indian food at a Friday dinner with friends, and topping it all off with a swim and BBQ Sunday afternoon. Damn, we truly live a rough life…

Sorry for the long “show and tell” intro, I hate when I do that.

Although this article is over a half a year stale, I read it for the first time last week. It’s the transcript of a phone interview with Noam Chomsky about the United States and its current political situation, but the interviewer touches on other international & domestic issues as well. I found Mr. Chomsky’s comments on the war in Iraq really interesting:

…the first thing that should be done in Iraq is for us to be serious about what’s going on. There is almost no serious discussion, I’m sorry to say, across the spectrum, of the question of withdrawal. The reason for that is that we are under a rigid doctrine in the West, a religious fanaticism, that says we must believe that the United States would have invaded Iraq even if its main product was lettuce and pickles, and the oil resources of the world were in Central Africa. Anyone who doesn’t believe that is condemned as a conspiracy theorist, a Marxist, a madman, or something. Well, you know, if you have three gray cells functioning, you know that that’s perfect nonsense. The U.S. invaded Iraq because it has enormous oil resources, mostly untapped, and it’s right in the heart of the world’s energy system. Which means that if the U.S. manages to control Iraq, it extends enormously its strategic power…

Now, any discussion of withdrawal from Iraq has to at least enter the real world, meaning, at least consider these issues. …We’re not allowed to concede that our leaders have rational imperial interests. We have to assume that they’re good-hearted and bumbling. But they’re not. They’re perfectly sensible. They can understand what anybody else can understand. So the first step in talk about withdrawal is: consider the actual situation, not some dream situation, where Bush is pursuing a vision of democracy or something. If we can enter the real world we can begin to talk about it. And yes, I think there should be withdrawal, but we have to talk about it in the real world and know what the White House is thinking. They’re not willing to live in a dream world.

I wonder if any politician/leader could succeed by speaking as simply and honestly as Chomsky describes above. Instead of talking about “freedom and democracy,” just be straight-up honest with the people and let them know we’re making a strategic and calculated imperialistic gesture for the sake of extending the nation’s power and influence. It would never work, right? But… the funny thing is, when it comes to why we went to Iraq, I don’t think most people “buy” it anyway. Not the “smart” Americans; not the “dumb” Americans. The “dumb” folks are happy we’re over there “kicking some ‘cameljockey’ ass and flexing American muscle,” and think good ol’ boy Bush is secretly in league with them and their ignorant close-minded worldview. The “smart” folks have long since seen proof after proof that the country was mislead into war, and can read through the “threat level Orange” FUD rhetoric anyway.

So, who’s being fooled? Maybe it’s just easier, or more more “civil,” to talk about it in a roundabout language of positivity than to call it by its true colors. Seems somehow less glaringly bad if you can just “dress it up” a bit and not acknowledge the uglier reality.

OK, I’m done there.

In closing, it looks like my brother and I missed robot clones by about twenty years. We should have patented the idea.

Lastly, I uploaded four measly (but good) pictures to Keaton’s gallery, go check ’em out. Goodnight.

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pleasantly longer than usual


Good Sunday evening my friends, coming off a weekend that seemed pleasantly longer than usual. I’m bringing you quite a disparate entry today, written off and on over the weekend to ensure it doesnt tie together at all. I did manage, however, to stick to tradition and post another (small) batch of photos to Keaton’s gallery. Last week, a friend asked me if I plan to post new pictures every week for the next eighteen years. Fair question, I suppose. I have no idea how long I’ll be obsessed enough with this baby to post weekly – but for now it’s become something of a habit, and, besides, I think you secretly like it. So here they are, Keaton’s gallery.

Sometimes, when I sit around on a Saturday doing absolutely nothing, wasting time, be ultimately nonconstructive, simply gaining weight – I get this feeling that all my friends are busy doing something with their time. I imagine them pulling weeds, cleaning house, gardening, washing cars, or spending their time doing something else equally as useful. I’m about 50/50 torn between loving being able to completely lose a day to sedentariness and hating the fact that I can be so lazy. Often, a thousand thoughts will run through my head: useful things I could do, things I’ve put off during the week which I could now devote hours uninterrupted to. Like now, it’s noon on Saturday and I’ve done nothing with my day but cook breakfast and play with the baby. I mean, I downloaded some music, messed with the iPod, and finished off some dirty dishes – but I feel like none of that matters because I haven’t even put on a shirt yet. I’m obviously not serious about today if it can’t even motivate me enough to clothe myself properly. Doomed to a day of sitting on the couch, listening to music, and writing… I’m 24hr useless.

But folks, as a result of that paragraph… I got the spirit. I went up to Home Depot and purchased some supplies to build some shelving in the garage, as well as the beginnings of the Baying Wolves project I have planned this Halloween (one of the two I hope to complete). Sharaun and I braved the 100+ temperatures to clean out and reorganize the garage. If you know me, you know I love organizing and tidying, and if I can do it in the garage while kicking some tunes on the iPod all the better.

I am positively in love with about 2/3 of this new Guillemots album – which means mostly the numbers with a decent tempo and a couple of the slower tracks. Some of these songs are so lushly done, with strings and rising chorus, plenty of cymbal crash to fill up the background, and unexpected falsetto. I recommend it, as it sounds like not much else I’ve heard out there right now. Also part of my playlist right now is an album by the group Midlake, which, while being slower and more muted, is crafted with extreme care – not to mention it’s not just 2/3 good, it’s 3/3 good. And, since we’re in the music paragraph – I’ll go ahead and say how excited I am about getting the new Ratatat album this weekend. Seeing as I liked the last one so much, I’ve got high expectations.

Looks like I’m not the only one who thought that CNN’s coverage of the current Israel/Lebanon/Hezbollah conflict is lacking. I’m finding that it’s really hard to get a “balanced” article on the current events over there, and I still stand by Wikipedia as the best checked-and-balanced telling of the tale as it’s unfolding.

Goodnight.

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yesterday i saw you kissing tiny flowers


Thursday night and I mowed the hadn’t-been-mowed-in-two-weeks lawn after work. Sometimes I swear the shuffle function on the iPod is actually powered by some mood-psychic gremlin living within those pearly white walls. Work today was quite the wringer, and I was a bundle of emotions and thoughts upon coming home (more about that later in the week, I think). The iPod, however, knew just how to talk to my troubled mind. First, it hit me up with some obscure Simon & Garfunkel, “A Most Peculiar Man” – just the right kind of snide “fishbowl” social commentary to get a busy mind thinking. Later on it ranged from Led Zeppelin’s “Rain Song,” a paragon of songmanship in my mind, some excellent Siamese Dream era Pumpkins, Bowie, and Son House singing about the blood of Jesus. It was an outstanding mix, and fit my tumultuous mood to a tee. Way to be, iPod. Way. To. Be. Oh, but mowing the grass blew… it was long and thick and the heat made me sweaty.

We had a momentous night Wednesday night: Keaton slept her first night in her nursery. That’s right, in her own crib in that two-tone pink room – not in the Pack-‘n’-Play parked next to the bed in ours. I must say, it was all my doing… Sharaun was reluctant but I had maintained for some weeks that the post-Florida timeframe should be the cutoff. Part of me is sad she’s not right there with us, where we can satisfy our paranoia by peeking in on her or placing a hand on her chest as it rises and falls. I’d been thinking for some time now how nice it would be to have our bedroom back, uncluttered by her sleeping and changing stuff, and once again safe for nighttime humping. But, when I packed out the last of her baby gear, I paraded first by Sharaun in the living room. We both looked at that neatly bundled Pack-‘n’-Play with a little sadness, like a chapter of our daughter’s life was being stuffed in the back of the nursery closet and a new phase was beginning. It may sound stupid, but I don’t think it’s an entirely foreign thing for new parents to experience. I’m not sure when “most” parents make that move, or even that “most” parents opt to have the baby in their room to begin with – but I’d wager that four and a half months is pretty late as “mosts” go. Good for us then, taking the plunge.

I’ve been trying to follow the piss-poor coverage of the Israel-Hezbollah/Lebanon conflict on CNN.com, but the reporting is disjointed, hard to follow, and lacking enough background to educate me on the situation. Frustrated because I felt ignorant reading and not following, I struck off on my own to my favorite reference site – Wikipedia. Turns out they’ve already got a great educational page about the current conflict, and it’s chock-full of links to other relevant entries offering tons of historical insight and information. I think I’ll just follow the conflict on Wikipedia rather than one of the major news outlets, as it’s easier for me to follow. Check it out here if you’re similarly stumped by the motivation and history behind the escalating violence.

Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah…

Well, I’d better run. I’ve need to put up our unpacked suitcases and finish off tonight’s dinner dishes – which I’ve been cleaning in spurts for hours now. Love you fuckers, goodnight.