Being Sanitary is being Wasteful

I really wanted to write this. No reason, no restrictions, just a writing on the follies of being sanitary.

We live in the "digital" age. A time where virtually all young americans are plugged into some sort of electronic device. Long have we walked away from things we used to plug into walls like toasters and televisions and did we really start sticking stuff into our ears. But come the digital age, information travels faster than a mail box with a jet engine. And we are informed. We're linked to colleges and libraries and digital references like wiki. At this point, mankind has known more than he has to in three lifetimes. Some of us watch others via the magic of internet video clips and such. And now, we're possibly some of the most informed beings ever. But with great knowledge comes great challenges.

I suppose up until now, people were familiar with common household agents such as ajax and bleach. That might have been it apart from windex and 409. Today's household cleaners include ones that are non toxic and stripping kinds and ones that kills 99.99 percent of germs. Or those wipe things that'll kill everything and eliminate the sponge altogether. But all this stuff on the common market, does it really help? In some ways, yes. In others, no.

In good ways, it kills and disinfect things we use. Knife cleaners, kitchen counter cleaners, wood top cleaners, stove cleaners. But all this specialized competition has really eliminated the all purpose cleaner. For obvious reasons such as quality and price, competition exists in the specialization of products and goods. But you generate more waste. Thats the thing. One square of paper towel for a stove cleaner, then another square to clean the counters. Waste just piles up.

I remember in the good old days. Grandma's house used to have one thing for cleaning. Dish soap. She managed to make that work everywhere. Dish soap to mop the floor, dish soap for dishes, countertops, stoves etc. Also, she used a sponge and maybe a rag. Those would've lasted a while. But bring in the product factor and specialization, more and more waste exists.

Similarly, at my cousin's house, they use alot of stuff to clean. As do I at my house. We have a thing to clean floors, and to wash carpets and counter top cleaner and this and that. Compared to grandma's garbage can, ours is packed sometimes. Of course, she lives alone now but that's not in this case.

So next time you spend 7.50 on a can of moisty naps, think about how much you could save by just taking a sandwich bag and some wet paper towels. Heh. Ghetto.

Crazy old woman

As always, I'm on my bicycle riding through Alameda when my friend Jeff calls me to pick up some things from his place. Just a bunch of vellum papers and a slide rule. And lucky me, the only way I could carry any of that stuff was to roll it up and stick it into my back pack. Which made it really awkward to walk and ride my bike. Afterawhile, I got pretty used to it. But my neck was at a really awkward angle. But anywhoo. I decided to use San Jose and then Willow avenue when I passed by the old person's home right by the city hospital. Apparently, the management of that care center was willing enough to let a senile old woman water the plants. At first, I didnt mind. But then as I was riding past, she just thought it'd be fun to get the guy with a giant roll of paper on his back wet. Hum. Crazy old people. I yelled at her and she just resumed watering the plants as if nothing had happened.

I can sooo relate to this... hehe

The best of craigslist has done it again. They've managed to find the inner tickilings of San Franciscian hatred of SoCal behavior. And this guy manages to express it just right.

You came into Royal Grounds, Russian Hill

You are the 30ish, 5'5", 120#, “Blonde" girl with the spackled foundation and knock-off bronze-metallic Prada bag. You were on your cell, blabbing with an artificial "Laguna Beach" accent and blissfully absorbing the "attention" of everyone else in the joint. You’ve been in line for about eight minutes.

I'd like to inform you of a few things:

1. We are not staring at you because you are hot or cool, or interesting. We (read: everyone else in the joint) are trying make you burst into flames by focusing our searing hatred toward your shellacked mary-jane wedges. Believe me, most of us could care less about your insipid desperation to appear cool. We care much more about you leaving. Now.

2. Royal Grounds does not serve “venti latte’s”. You’ve gotten all dizzy and come to the wrong place. You’re looking for McDonald’s, or Jenny Craig, or Fresh Choice. Stupid twat.

3. Make a decision before you get to the front of the line, bitch. I know… you’ve got low blood sugar so its haaaaard to decide, but settling on a fat-free muffin and a low-fat latte shouldn’t take one hundred twelve seconds at the counter. Especially since you’ve been in line for eight minutes saying, “I knoooow. Ohmigod, I KNOOOWWWW! Really? I know…”. Its not like you’ve been on hold with Comcast. You’re in line for coffee at 7:55am. Die. Now. Or at least spontaneously bleed or do something interesting and painful like a seizure.

4. Leave a freaking tip. That little jar isn’t there to TAKE CHANGE FROM. If you need change for the bus, simply ASK the nice gal behind the counter. Don’t dig around in her tip jar for quarters while drawling about losing your Muni Pass to your feeble-minded phone-mate. We all know you lost your Muni Pass along with the tattered remnants of your shriveled dignity at the Royal Joke last night at 1:12am. It is just at the end of Bonita Street under that pile of wadded Kleenex. You know, near where you woke up, skank.

5. Get your fucking bag off my table! Damn, now you’ve done it. You’ve taken me from focused disgust to personal rage. Just because I’m seated at the table next to the no-calorie sweeteners doesn’t mean I want your greasy, cum-stained whore-sack on my paper; nudging my coffee and getting dangerously close to contaminating my bagel. Not even an “excuse me” or a “do you mind/”. In fact, I might have let it pass with simple hatred had you bothered to engage some semblance of decency. But, there you go, no concern for my space or belongings.

6. It was not an accident that my coffee “fell” onto your feet while you were adding the Spleda to your beverage. I purposely removed the lid. I carefully planned knocking it “just so” in hopes of getting at least one of your feet covered in scalding bean juice. Did that burn a little? Don’t worry about the shoes. Pleather cleans up nicely. The sugar should get nice and sticky soon. Kind of like your thighs and tits felt before you used a handi-wipe on them this morning when you came to.

7. It was funny to watch you drop your phone into the bus-tray, prance on your little feet, and protest with “Ohmigod! Ohmigod!” while everyone else took delight in your suffering. Did you believe me to be sincere when I said, “Oh, wow. That must hurt.” Notice how I didn’t apologize? Of course you didn’t.

8. Yes, I purposely chose that moment to get up and leave. I definitely meant to bump you ever so slightly with the table and knock your bag to the floor with my laptop and paper. I admit it: I wanted to cause you as much inconvenience as possible without actually breaking any laws.

9. The people behind you in line were purposefully rude in pushing around you to get lids, sugar, cream and stuff. They grinned when they observed my work. They wryly smiled. They hate you as much as I do. Probably as much as your mother did when she dropped you off at the orphanage.

10. Even though I had significantly slowed the pace of everyone’s day, there wasn’t a bit of anger directed at me. Rather, there was joy, gratefulness, even one woman who mouthed, “Awesome”. You are disgusting and unwelcome. Move away. Get crippled. Go blind. Just leave.

http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/sfo/327033558.html

What to think about during a fingerbang

From here

What the study showed was that lesbian women also tended to have the more "masculine" arrangement - that is, they had shorter index fingers.

But the ratio of finger sizes in men was more complicated. Comparisons between all men showed no differences. Only gay men with several older brothers had an unusually "masculine" finger ratio - in other words, they had significantly shorter index fingers.

Having a large number of older brothers had previously been established as a factor predisposing men to homosexuality, and like finger length reflects prenatal androgen exposure.

Homosexual men without older brothers had finger length ratios indistinguishable from heterosexual men, indicating that factors other than hormones - such as genetic influences - also contribute to sexual orientation.

You've asked for it

You've asked for it. Something new and "insightful". Well i'm really getting bored with the whole blogging scene. I dont know why. Honestly, I dont really feel the need to constantly express every single feeling I have in the form of a digital language in communication with the world. So today, i'll just do notes.

• I have returneth frometh Berkeleyeth. Orientation was soo awesome. I finally got to sleep in my dorm and see what it would be like. I must say, the shower situation, not too pleasant. If you enjoy showering in an inch high amount of human filth water, then you would be rather comfortable. Lesson learned, shower in a dorm, EARLY!
• I finally met the insatiable Zachary Taylor. No relation to the former president. None at all. But he's a big fella and he really reminds me of my big buddy Brian from Freshman year. Not an official big buddie, but he's the kind of person you really grew onto. The kind of guy you like to hug every so often. To me, he has the body of Brian, but the voice of Izzy. Zac, if you're reading this, Izzy aint a singer. Dont look it up.
• I'm being laid up and being broken up after graduation at home. Since graduating, I bet all my friends have gone and done wild things. I know Stallman is in England, Zac visited the most romantic country in the world, (not france, they publicly urinate), Wendy's off to Cambodia, my little friend Eric is in the Philipines, some of my friends are in China or Asia or Europe. Stacey was in Los Angeles, but I no know if she back yet.
• So what have I been doing? I've tried exercise. I look alot better than the majority of my senior year's days. I've been running and biking alot. But when it comes to carrying heavy stuff, I'll take a bus. Granted, its like a 30985095 minute wait.
• I've built an entire city out of videotapes. I'm not sure if you guys did it as kids, but when I got bored, I'd yank out the video tapes and arrange them into city blocks and i'd get all my hotwheels out and just start creating these fictional situations. This time, it was the city of Kapoho in danger of a lava flow. The previous day, I read about the real Kapoho on Wiki.
• I've gone swimming with Gabbi. I like swimming. I dont like cholorene. I dont know which is better though. The nasty taste on your lips when you go ocean swimming? Or the eye burning, but fresh feeling in your mouth of cholorinated pool water. Gosh. That is a good question. Maybe I like both. I know in the ocean, I wont get pruney
• I got another guitar. This one has no name. Its sole purpose is to be modded and played around with
• I really need to incite more things to make me want to blog
  

Should I have?

There alot of things I should have done, or could have. I could have gone to the beach on thursday to enjoy the last day of school bonfire, but I didnt. I wonder why. I dont know why I didnt even ask. I could have but I didnt. I just wonder, if I'm just going to end up living with all these regrets of things I could have done but never did. Hummm... Shame, my parents probably would have done it too... But I doubt that they would have stayed over at grandma's because of grandpapa

Where have all the posts gone?

Sorry readers. I guess I ahve been rather neglectful of you readers. Let me catch you up on what's happened since I told you guys to check out my photoshop blog.

Recently, my grandfather died. He died on the morning of senior picnic. Even with that, I still went and had fun. He would have wanted me to have fun. I miss him very much. He was the kind of grandpa that would dress like it was 1970 when he went on trips. Like Jerry Seinfeld said. Fathers tend to stop updating their wardrobes when they pass their best years. You can see it. There goes 1994, 1968, 1970, etc. But I like that about grandpa. He was kinda old fashioned and he did his best to please his grand kids. He once gave me a radio and I still use it. The battery cover's not there, but I still remember it well. He gave it to me and I played underneath their dining table pretending I was in a house and i was glad grandpa gave me a radio for my "house".

Oh gosh, then finals came along. The only thing I did shit on was Calculus. That's my most hated subject ever. Everything else, cooler than a cucumber. I actually got a perfect score on my Chem Final! Hehe...

Graduation. Gosh. Four years of high school has finally accumulated up to this. A two hour graduation ceremony plus grad night. No one has invited me to any parties and now, I feel left out. But that's me for befriending people who dont have parties... heh. With grandpa passing away, I had to change the party date.

Grad Night. Schools go to anaheim for that stuff, but we just turn the gym into something surreal. It didnt seem like the gym. that's for sure. it felt more like a play land of sorts. It was amazing. I can say that.

I'll have more posts later.

Check it Out

Hey guy. For those of you regular readers. *cough* ... I have a new "hobby" blog showing some of my best and poorest work in photoshop coloring.

www.colorourhistory.blogspot.com

heh

I won. I did it. Yay for me!

IGIHERLKH!L! DFUCKD@~!

Sometimes, all she ever yells about is just being unable to apply myself. They regulate my life. I want to be free. Fuck, I dont even feel the right to post. She tells me to do this and that. I'm sick of hearing it. I know my wrongs today. And yet, she's still yelling at me. God and earth, I swear. She compares me to "5 AP class students" and I know these people. They have no life. I know several of them. They're mindless, boring, humorless goons. They have no fun overall. They're chained to desks and are a bunch of whipped trophy kids for parents. I dont want to be a trophy kid. I know I have potential. I know I have a future. But do I have to be pushed so hard into it? I bet you your grandfather was never pushed or shoved to get a 4.9 GPA back in his high school days. Now, we're being pushed harder than greyhounds in the winter. We slave away at work. Work we dont get sometimes because help is useless.

She told me, Band takes a back seat. Band is the ONE thing that I stay focused in. Band is the one thing that changed me personlly. Band is the very and only thing that caused my emergence and leadership skills. Without band, i'd probably have just been another god damn fucking, ass wiping pussy trophy kids who have no life other than homework and a computer. Yeah, if you really want me to work, i'll be stuck in the room and i'll never come out. I wont bother eating. That's what architecture'll be like. I'm not quite ready for that. But the one thing I want is band. Dont ever tell me, EVER IN A MILLION YEARS, that Band takes a back seat. You assume too much. If you knew everyone at my school. You could put everyone with a click. If you looked at me, Drafting or Band click. Instantly.

The truth

I just realized. I only tagged 5 people out of six. I give up. I'm not very good at this tagging stuff.

Its all down hill nowadays

You've done your time. Honestly. Unless you're a freshman who's reading this. But really. You've done more than your ancestors have. I know people who graduated in the seventies and were damn proud of having a 3.3 GPA. And the fact of the matter is that the world has flipped onto its head and everyone's just flushed their toilets at the same time. Come to think of it. How would it work? How would you stand the world on end? Would it not be exactly the same? How stupid was that analogy eh? But now, teens like us are being treated more and more like prize cattle rather than the family child who's the apple of their mother's eyes. I've heard horror stories from my friends where they were chained to desks by their parents as well as being locked in small specially made study rooms. I've seen one. They're not pretty. The newer development houses that are springing up have new special rooms that are about 5 feet by 6 feet with two desks and a flourescent light. They're just for studying. And they can be locked from the outside! Now call me crazy, but Alameda's a nice place and all. But this school district has got its head up its arse.

Avoid Evangelicists!

So the god awful truth is that this Christian school decided to have a science fair. And one student aparently disproved the theory of evolution by showing formation of staglatites is entirely wrong according to scientists. Well then. He's an idiot. As well as his parents and his teachers and his administrators. As well as the judicators for giving first place in the LIFE SCIENCE/BIOLOGY category. He disproved the theory of evolution by proving he could grow stags in a matter of days as opposed what scientists say which grow at approximately .10 inches per year. Now aparently, the student also didn't take into account the different types of material. the things are composed of magnesium sulfate. But stalactites are made of calcium carbonate. Aargh. It doesnt even have anything to do with biology

http://scienceblogs.com/pharyngula/2007/05/another_christian_science_fair.php

Someone's tagged me

For the first time, someone has tagged me in a good way. Unlike the usual vandalism of tagging I see going on around here, I have been tagged on my blog by someone else. Namely, newnorth...

"The rules are: once you have been tagged, you have to write a blog with six weird, unique or unusual facts or habits about yourself.... at the end, you need to choose six people to be tagged and list their names and why you chose them.... don't forget to send them each a comment that says, "you have been tagged....go read my latest blog...."


Ok... Argh. I cant turn Italics off. There. Sorry... Haha. Six unique facts about me/unusual facts hm? Ok, lets see...

1. I am capable of moving my adam's apple up and down as well as wiggling my ears and making the size of my nostrils increase by nearly two fold. All independently of course

2. I have Visited the most southern part of the USA twice. Its in Hawaii btw...

3. I am capable of playing the Baritone, Clarinet, Bass Clarinet, Piano, Diatonic Accordian, Tenor Banjo, Mandolin, Ukulele, Baritone Ukulele, Tenor Saxophone, Guitar, Electric Bass, Electric Guitar, Chromatic Harmonic and Diatonic Harmonica

4. I have met John Madden and Eric Estrada. John Madden has giant fuzzy catepillar eyebrows and I dont remember a thing about Estrada. Other than he probably, as many of you others out there, worships Chuck Norris :D

5. I got into UC Berkeley with only a 1780 on the SAT's and a 3.6 GPA

6. I hate brussel Sprouts and bittermelon. That's it. Everything else is tolerable in the land of vegetables. As long as it's been cooked, fried and smothered in Garlic.

Ok... six people to tag. I dont know who really writes about themselves that much, but there's always a chance.

1. peachiekeen
Very cool blog. I recommend it to everyone who enjoys the gripes of a high schooler
2. coded waltz
I choose this one for its remarkability and cool posts
3. Puntabulous
Hands down, Puntabulous is my most favorite blog in the world.
4. The Ceiling Man
The ceiling man since its Preetham.
5. WizzCheese
Most awesome school mascot ever if you dont tell me twice. The blog about the president of a school and day to day issues.

I hate too many things

God! I saw some people open up the door and then someone just ran in front of it. God I hate rude people.

Why did it have to happen?

As mentioned in Man Alone, I met up with her. Before that day, I was perfectly content with life. I hadn't a care in the world other than being happy. But today, I couldnt help but obsess over her for the greater part of the day. Why? Why did it have to happen? It hurt me to read through the old comments she would leave and some of the things she would say were lovely and all. But after what she did. I couldn't help but feel sad when i'm trying to choke them down.

I still have the ring that she loved so much. I cant bear to keep it. It reminds me too much of her.

Man Alone

It was weird. I've never felt such a thing. To be alienated at a school. It was weird. I never realized how different it was. For an Alameda Student to sit around a bunch of Encinal Band Geeks. Sure, poor Kim never got the end of it from her friends. Since she had both her third boyfriend sitting next to her (me) as well as her current one. Fifth I think. And also, she had her two other exes running around campus. As usual, our band did terrible. *ugh* There needs to be serious reform in class. There is too much contempt and how students think that social time means band class. Band class is a privelidge and its being really wasted at the moment. If only we still had multiple directors as well as the Navy being here to give the schools a Lump Sum. But that's aside my story title. So everyone left the thing at 11:30ish. And I still had a piano recital as well as the awards ceremony afterwards. Normally, one would think that a awards ceremony is just you walking up to recieve the trophy, but suddenly, there's all this pomp and method on how to do this and that. And being the Alameda High School student that I am, I have no idea what to do. There's no method that we know. It was all improvised. All the other schools had fancy moves whenever they saluted, like locking arms and whatnot. But All I could do by myself was just swing my fist left, and pendulum it back right and into the palm out salute. Oh gosh. Then came time to accept the award for Alameda. Third place. As well as lowest concert band score. Oh well. We knew it was coming. But I marched out diagonally. Stopped eradically and saluted. Rather Hastily. Gosh, how sucky. Then what's his name. I think Kai or the one going to Cal also shook my hand and handed me the trophy and folder with the tapes and scores.

But after all that, the bands got together to celebrate and throw people in the air and stuff. I stood there alone, still clutching to the trophy and folder. No one to hustle around me and cheer. No one to shake me and yell out loud profanities of semi-victory. No one at all. It sucked bad. The only company I had was Encinal High School. Watching them and Phelps go over scores made me realize. These guys, as small as they may be, too things very seriously. That's what Alameda needs. Discipline. But the liberal says, no taking a switch to the child. It will induce mental angst and cause them to be murderers in future life. Posh on it.

Electric Needle Hut

So I donate blood alot. This time, i couldn't give them a full pint. The blood just didnt come out after awhile. I'm guessing they just passed right through my vein and out the other side and yeah. But it went smooth at first. But halfway through, it stopped and for some reason, the two technicians couldnt get it to work. So they ended up twisting the needle, moving it from side to side, as well as pulling it in and out. I couldnt bear it. It just drove me nuts. So I had them pull it out.

What I hate most

Well, there's many things that I hate and it's really too hard to distinguish a certain thing to accept the focus and brunt of my hatred. But I hate alot and today, I've got a lovely list for you all to read. Includes the item under scrutiny as well as a lovely little description with a cup of tea and a cross cut beef sandwich.

Pimples:
For heaven's sake. I've passed through puberty. I've stopped growing. I've got hair growing in places now. Yet these little fetid things keep reappearing time after time. Espically after I manage to get rid of them all. It's probably linked to my lack of drinking water. But that's highly suspect *I just started drinking a winebottle of water a day*. But once I pop one, another two grow in its place. It's like fighting the medusa. Maybe I ought to defeat it like Jason did. With itself. Hmm... Fighting fire with fire, water with water, pimple with pimple... I like the sound of it. But It seems difficult.

Pidgeon People
You know them. You really do. You dont think you do. But they're everywhere and the take a while to notice at first. It starts off casually. You're walking to class. It couldnt be any nicer that day. Sun in the sky, low humidity, absence of Mongolian invaders, and an abundance of shorts and skirts. Oh no! You're about to miss your class at the very end of the hallway of this building. You manage to rustle through the throng on the first floor. But on the second floor, there's your lab. You can make the time limit. But wait. There's a group of chatty girls or ghetto looking people in your way. Is there a way to make it by them? No! When they walk, its as if they choose to hold hands or morph into each other's cellular biology. You cant push past and if you're a lucky one who's willing to make a scene when pushing through, you're jeered by a string of stupid incomprehensible comments like: Like oh my gosh, how rude. Could that guy be any more fat? Could he understand newtonian physics and like just shove off and not touch us... It goes on and on until you duck into the safety of your class. But egad! They've followed you into class and file in slower than a molasses race against the arthritic special physical education class for snails. It destroys the flow of work and you want to punch in their heads. It drives you up the wall. But you collapse in defeat under the load of work your TA gives you.

The Ignorant
Why I hate the ignorant. I just do. I've never met one I liked and I hope it stays that way. I read alot and on the internet, I came across a website of "christians say the darndest thigns" and they do. Some considered the King James more accurate than the book of Hebrews. Another refused to accept the theory of gravity simply because Birds and Planes defy the law and if it did exist, how come you cant throw a rock at a mountain and it would orbit around the mountain. When I read that gravity one. I really did want to strangle the idiot who did say all that. Simple as fact. Gravity is dependent on a very weak force existing between all masses as well as the distance between them. If I recall, the formula for gravitational pull was force of gravity multiplied by the mass of the first mutiplied by the mass of the second. Divided by the distance between the two masses. Now, maybe that rock and mountain thing would work, but he forgets to take into account the linear gravitation forces pulling down on the rock. As well as the mass of the earth. When you do an experiment, dont think you have a perfect envirnoment. If you went out into nature, and tried to do the rock thing, you have to calculate the pull between trees and the rock, the mountain and the rock, and of course the earth and the rock. The reason birds and planes "defy" gravity is because they use other physics principals such as the third law. You cannot touch something without being touched. Birds and planes push air out of the way, and the air pushes back on them giving them lift. Now, gravitational force is one of the smallest forces I can remember that naturally exists. Sheesh. Its that simple.
Another incident was when I was on the bus the other day. I had worn a business suit and my mombasa (which is a panamanian type hat). I was about to get off the bus when two black kids yelled: Yeehaw! Go git them cowboy! I just went through normal protocol and just cooly ignored them. How I would have loved to punish them for ignorance and explaining that it was a panama and now a cowboy hat and how they were idiots for assuming that any hat that looks like a cowboy hat, or any hat with a brim was either a "gangster" hat or cowboy hat. I hate idiots.

"Ignorant people associate. The Intelligent know."

Ghetto People
Oh yes, I really do hate them. They are the bane of knowledge. Never in the history as far as I know, has there been a group so idiotic and retrogressive in learning. I'm sure when my dad was in high school back in the 70s, most everyone would give an effort and study. But in my day and age, it spreads like tar over a pillow factory. The media has promoted the idea that if you dont study, become a rapper, wear ridiculous clothing, spend more more money on a car than family that you'll one day be rich and living in a big mansion, having a lot of parties with girls wearing nothing but floss thongs and there will be a big line of girls waiting to be porked by you. But the truth is, that since you stopped your education to be popular, you have put yourself out of a potential job apart from blue collar work. Oh how your ancestors roll in the grave. A modest black family, hopes and dreams, fighting for the cause. Moving into white neighborhoods. Fighting protest and hatred with all their will and power. And now look at you. You look like fools. You wear panties on your head, pants down to the ankles and tshirts intended for people who are the size of pregnant women trying to steal watermelons by hiding them under her clothes. How you have fallen from all the work your ancestors had built up. To give you a better life and what's to show? You want to be from the ghetto. You want to have the reputation of killing. Not for the reputation of being a famous businessman or entrepreneur. You just gotta be that rapper in the Hummer with more gold on you than a bank has. How I hate your arrogance and ignorance. A while back, a rather ugly looking woman was on a bicycle. She stopped to let a car pass. But a black student who was all ghettoed up in a massive hoodie and parachute pants. But he was yelling to one of this "holmes" across the street and ran into her bicycle since he was walking and turned a blind eye to her back tire. She said: Watch it. He responded: Shut yo ass up you motherfucking butt ass ugly bitch. I wanted to punch the kid in the teeth. But I knew I wouldnt be able to fight. Unlike the ghettos, I wasnt trained at birth to ride a lowrider or handle a uzi with one hand sideways. I hate it. They're everywhere. To quote an old man who threw a tantrum on the bus: I cant stand these god damn little ghetto idiot brats!

Salted Eggs
Seriously, I dont think eggs shouldn't come out of the shell black and smelling like a foot soaked in gojo. As far as I can remember, every time I ate one, I've always thrown it up.

Ugly girls that have the words: Cutie on their shirt
Seriously. Can you get any more Oxymoronic?

Gonzales
I wont mention the first name of a certain Attny. General. But I read that now he was planning to pass a law that made it illegal and viable for persecution for anyone who might possibly be pirating. Ok, why dont we just arrest everyone in the US who has thought of a song while in the shower. Or singing a song while in the shower. Surely they're infringing on copyright laws? For heaven's sake, you're trying to pass an illogical law. The US is on its way back into the 20s when we questioned the bible and found our heads on the line. Stifle man's thought why dont you? Ban people from ever coming up with songs to prevent any sort of piracy. Ban the intelligent thought to prevent it from being stolen later. Stifle the creative mind to preserve order. No! Order is found when people are most happy. There's a fine line between order and discipline and happiness. You could have ultra discipline and tons of order, but no happiness and man will seek to topple order to be happy. But If you have too much of these freedoms and liberties at hand, you lose all order and everything turns to uncivility and there are problems arising in the world. So they work to fix it. Make as much as happy as possible, without disturibing the balance of order.

People who said they move to Canada if Bush won
I'm looking around. All of you who said it are still. I hate you hypocrites.

Uber Liberals
I respect your thought set and mind and what your motivation and goals are, but I for one hate communism. Its a flawed system that ended up leading to a dictatorship/totalitarian system. I'm sure you really think that Little Johnny Turnblad is content with going to a factory every day to make a tractor. And when it comes time to get paid, yay! Get paid in potatoes! No. man cannot survive and live with the knowledge of what is to come in the future. In our case, the next potato dinner. You could work as hard as hell or as little as possible and still, you'd make your potato. But where's the satisfaction in that? Your furniture looks like everyone elses and you dress blandly. So Uber liberals, I'm sure your intentions were good and some things I like. Totally save the trees by memorial stadium. But when it comes time to eat the catepillars that grow between your toes, I put my foot down to squash it. I couldnt stand to live in a world without incentive.
Also, shame on your piggy backing off of the CalBand performance at CalDay to promote the elimination of cars and the downfall of capitalism. You turn USA into a big pussy, pinko nation incapable of defending itself.

People who dont support our Boys in Iraq
You hate war dont you? They hate you too for hating them. If you think about it. You're no different from them. Your predecessors were the hippies and independent thought. How do you think they felt if they were men alone fighting for their cause against the man? If they didnt have the large support of many others, they probably wouldnt have done such a job. Its just like our boys fighting. How do you think they feel when their entire country has turned on them? They're fighting for a cause. Just as the hippies did. This is nothing compared to WWII when a nation unified to support its soldiers to fight in the war and to bring a newfound hope and glory to the nation. Now, you alienate them and expect the same support behind you to tear them down. You fight for your cause, they fight for theirs.

People who are private on myspace
I cant stand them. Myspace: A place for friends. *Ah! Shun other people who want to be your friends and get the exact same friends as you already know. That defeats the entire point of myspace in the first place. Its like going to a bar full of friends and potential girlfriend/boyfriends, and sitting in the corner with your friends watching the football game with a small bowl of peanuts and leaving the new people to mingle amongst themselves and leave for a full blown orgy. Ok, well maybe not that drastic but you get the point.

Private blogs
The whole point of a blog was to open up yourself and release your open journal or weblog into the world for people to read and well... read. If you limit the things they can and cannot read, there is no point to writing a blog. You might as well just keep an electronic journal word document on your computer. So stop wasting my time with private blog entries!

Buffalo Sandwich

I had walked by the restaurant many times on the way to work in my earlier years. Every time I passed, an overwhelming rush came over me. I knew I had to go in. But it was out of the question. Money wasn't plentiful enough to go in to eat. I knew one day I would have my chance. Two weeks passed and still, there was no hope to go in. Another week. The smell drove me up a wall. My last day of work at the Government office led me to peek in for once. Leaving behind the sack lunch I had all the time, I peered into the building. The smoke and hustle and bustle left me astounded. It was amazing. I wanted to go in, but I didnt. I still held the sack lunch in my hand and I walked back to the office. My cubicle never felt smaller until that day. Oh well. Another time.

Answers

There's no easy way to answer questions from comments on other people's blogs. So I'll just end up doing an answer section today.

Yes, I do wash my hands after going

The fact that the thumb is on the side doesnt differentiate it from a finger. They still do the same thing dont they? But what is the physical difference between them other than position?

As you like it

Most of you know by now at least, that I'm a big Cal person. I'm a bear at heart. And I hopefully stay that way. But If there's anything I hate more than Stanfurd/Stanturd is the USC band. Now those are a bunch of jerks who hire people to play with them. Psh.

One year, Cal Band owned USC band with hecka tubas and the world's largest sousaphone. But I digress. The real purpose was to lead up to the awesome joke. But yeah. I really wonder what stirs this competition between schools? The desire to be best? How absurd. I guess that's how it is when my school is so vain. Oh, we must get test scores up, oh we must have every single senior taking an AP class, Oh we must get top scores on Star tests. Oh we gotta fix the pee-pees cause they scare visitors. Everything is true. I remember attending three graduations in my four years there. One of them was under the administration of a wonderful woman. Ms. Sheratt. She knew how to do things. Hardly ever did she mention scores or anything so silly. She only mentioned how she was proud of the graduating class. Under Janvier's Administration, I recall at the last graduation, all he mentioned was the high acceptance rate into UC Berkeley and all the really super duper high scores on AP tests and the SATs and STARs.

To quote a mangled Vonnegut: Why dont you take a flying fuck at the AP TESTS?!!!?!?

Anyways. I'll probably nod off during my graduation. With the entire brain trust standing there in yellow and white ceremonial robes. *scoff* What hideous colors. Even if they are the school colors... You can see right through the white robes and only the ladies wear them. The yellow robes are just an eyesore. Whatever happened to wearing only black robes like in colleges and other normal schools?

Before somebody blond attacks me for my inaccuracies about my school, I'd like to thank Mom and Pop, Miss Jami and my Uncle Ross for all they've done for me to get into UC Berkeley.

And now, the topper.

A Cal student and a Stanford student are both using the men's room.
When they finish their business, the Cal student heads for the door, while the
Stanford student heads for the sink. The Stanford students calls to the Cal student, "At
Stanford, they teach us to wash our hands after using the bathroom"
The Cal student replies nonchalantly, "At Cal, they teach us not to pee on our hands."

Do I?

When I post, I look foward to it. I dont know why. Its that sort of gratification where someone has read your personal thoughts and ideas. I cant help it. I need that thrill. The rush of myspace and facebook are less than ever. Now, I long for it here on blogspot. It kills me to open up to an empty email inbox to find out. It does. I long for comments. I'm a comment whore. Espically for newnorth since I have no idea who she is. It's cool to see how someone comments on daily life, how you react and respond.

PS

What's the difference between the fingers and the thumb?

An Ingersoll Moment

Ingersoll was a great atheist. A promoter of free and independent thought. Not to be bogged down by religion. I wasn't sure if he believe in a greater force or not, but I know for sure that he refused to accept the Christian god presented by the bible. At the moment, i'm taking an Agnostic stance. Still unsure of god, but I know that I wont accept the god presented in Christianity.

I quote:

"But," says the religionist, "you cannot explain everything; you cannot understand everything; and that which you cannot explain, that which you do not comprehend, is my God."

We are explaining more every day. We are understanding more every day; consequently your God is growing smaller every day.

Our ignorance is God; what we know is science.

-Robert Green Ingersoll (The Gods 1872)

Why?

So I was thinking in the shower. As I usually do as opposed to just standing about splashing water on me. But It occured to me. I hate that one instance where something happens. Today, that just happened to me twice.

I had arrived at my aunt's house for Mother's Day. I had given my mom a kick ass wooden lantern I stained and built the lid that day too. But Anywhoo... I had gotten up to the first landing of her Apartment, I took off my shoes and picked up the right one. Lo and behold, an ancient piece of gum that looks like it had been smash there was stuck. Right in the middle of the shoe. I'm very anal about these sort of things. I looked down and I just wanted to rip the little mother fu***** out. But it's disgusting. My asian side kicks in and says "NO! No touchie! Nasty, Dirty, Been in someone poor's mouth!" So to this very moment, the gum is still there and it's driving me bananas. I must figure out someway to pull it off. So the nice hexagon and triangle pattern on the bottom of my shoe has been ruined by someone's giant blob of gum. By someone who was too lazy to give a damn about someone else. Oh yes, I used to be one of them. Until the day I got a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of my chuck taylors the size of a miniature pumpkin. For that one, I took a rock from the neighbor's yard and just started hacking at the damn thing. But for this. I have no clue how to remove it. With all of modern man's advancements, i'd think at least we'd be able to remove gum from shoes. We put man on the moon, developed nuclear weapons, fought diseases, covered both poles, created artifical hearts. But we're still stuck with that damn little shitty piece of gum under our shoes. Oh how cruel life is.

The second event that really ticked my tocker was when I pulled out my Hurley shirt. You know, the two parentheses like this: )( The label on the inside of the shirt is impritnted on the shirt itself and already its coming off. Only after 5 wears and the stuff is coming off. Well, that's not the worst of it. But I pull out my shirt and I hold it in my hands and *horrendous music* A stain. But the worst of it is I dont know from what. That's the problem with wearing white clothing. You get these stupid fat person stains and these are kinda obvious. Right on my belly button. It looks like a damn map of Hawaii. Agrah. My one month old shirt. Ruined already!

So I gripe. And now, I shall go in search for a way to remove gum from shoes.

Why my posts suck

I admit. New York has killed me. Literally. I cant write decent posts since then. Everything else has been out of my WIP novel. Which at the moment is turning into a cluster of double sided short stories. Everything else are tiny piddly things that wouldnt be worth a scratch at. Being a graduating senior also contributes to the mess. I'm more likely to just skip over blogger and just browse youtube for hours and hours on end. So what if i'm not blogging. I hate that feeling. The dissatisfaction of not being able to write something you can stick your chest out and mean it.

Also, the rise of ghetto idiots at my school has got me worried. More ghetto douche bags = less participants in music program. This year was a pretty good sizable orchestra. For once, three different saxophones as well as more than just Jose on Trombone. Of course, they're like wild animals too. Acting as student music director, I conduct when the director isint around, but no one can listen, and no one can play. Sometimes, I honestly believe everyone just remembers how to play the piece once. What they dont realize is that no every conductor has the exact same style. Just comparing Bernstein's and Ormandy's interpretation of Shostakovich's 5th symphony is simply in my words: amazing. Bernstein, a more fluid and flowey piece. Ormandy, slightly rigid, but slow, as a sort of emphasis on every note. To draw out meaning from everything.

I digress. Ghetto Idiots. That's all I ever post about. All my entire blog has ever been about is me blowing off steam in my frustration of idiots everywhere. I've got nothing worthwhile to say. Or do I? I dont know anymore. Its really getting confusing on what a blog should be. Some of the blogs I regularly check are just nothing more than showing cool things, rather than a personal post blog like Newnorth or Puntabulous. I really should read more than just that.

Answer to a blog comment question

In my rush, I forgot to consider the geographic differences of foods when I mention certain things. Mentioning Naan and Curry to some of my Pennsylvania friends struck curious looks and comments. As well as them mentioning Utz potato chips, I couldn't help but tilt my head like a curious puppy. So my one regular reader the insatiable newnorth has wondered what Granny Goose Potato chips are. Well, the company was started right in my backyard, Oakland, California in 1946. Today, I believe they're owned by frito lay. But I dont think so. To be honest, I dont see granny goose around too much. And now i'm beginning to question the freshness of that last bag of chips.

I've come to terms

So... this is what it feels like to make the 200th post. Its not that exciting. I got a bag of Granny goose chips in my lap, it smells kinda weird and its pleasntly warm outside. I suppose I could say this 200th Post is a victory in my name.

An open letter

To the girl who's multitasking on the bus:

I understand how you girls can do all this stuff and do multiple things at the same time, but its disgusting when you do what you were doing on the bus. Almost as annoying as the woman who would jerk her head about to mimic dancing, or concept of following rhythm. But what you did, talk on the phone and clip your nails, you take rudeness to a whole new level. Yeah, we get that you enjoy talking on your phone, but when you talk and clip your nails, its gross. I feel deep sorrow for the person who is on the line who has to listen to your fat assed voice and listen for the click click click of you leaving your DNA all over a brand new bus.

Advice to you, save that for home where it belongs.

The damn bus

I had spent the good of the afternoon at the circle. Helping Judy pop other people's pimples, and eventually, sleeping with Gabbi on my pelvis. But afterwards, I have to take the bus to get back to the other island which I live on. I'm standing and waiting there and it finally comes. Do I flag it down or not? I remember some guy got his head bit off by the driver just for doing that. So I decide not to. I just pull out my card and flash it a little. Make it look rather causal. Its coming, it dont look like it'll pull over. I flash it harder, but it rolls by. Damn. Idiot bus driver. That stop is serviced by one and only bus route. That bus. The 631. Idiot drivers...

The otherside

I tried to come up with the other side of the story. Sure, they dont match up exactly, but close enough

I didn’t expect her to come to me. There were plenty tables inside the café that day. How she even found me, I would never know. She pulled the worn wooden chair from under the table and placed her bag on it. She walked back to the counter to place her order. She left before I could get a good glimpse of her. Was it not customary to ask if the seat was taken first? How strange I thought. I folded up the newspaper neatly and placed it in the recycle bin and sat back down in my seat. My laptop was closed on the table, its bulky auxiliary batter sitting below it. Hesitating, I opened it and switched it on. Maybe she would go away if I looked busy at the computer. I pulled up a word document, and a spread sheet with several figures on it and set to work. Or at least make it look like work. She sat back down, with a large bowl sized cup of coffee. I peered over the top of the screen to get a good look of her without looking like a staring pervert. She was quite pretty. She had curly brown hair and these eyes that you could get lost in. They were like cat’s eyes marbles. I remember them quite well since I had a large bag of them as a child. I quickly shuffled back to work behind my wall. From the sides, I saw her hands working to un-kink a pair of headphones and an mp3 player from her purse. It seemed in the next ten minutes, she emptied the entire contents of her purse onto the table. A book, a small compact, a package of tissues, several hairclips and a wallet was set in the space on the small round table between the edge and my laptop front. I was tempted to fold down the screen to ask her if she needed to pull out the vanity as well. But I shook my head and buried myself in work again. She dropped the compact on the ground and I giggled. She turned around and looked at me. My cover was blown.

“Pardon?”

“Oh? Um… Nothing.”

“Yeah, sure. Nothing at all hm? That’s as likely as you doing any work behind that computer of yours.” When she said that, I choked a little on my spit. I laughed rather clumsily and tried to look busy. But she stood and walked over to my side and looked down at the screen. “Ha. Work you say. Its just a web page you know.” I looked back at the screen in horror. She was right. I had left a firefox page up showing nothing but college football scores.

“Well, it looks like you blew my cover.” I said.

“That may be so, but could you…” Her hand indicated at the compact still on the floor.

“Oh. How careless of me.” I bent over to grab the small thing. “You women and your makeup.”

“You men and your football.”

“You got me there.”

“My name’s Susan.”

“Ah, that’s a pretty name. I’m Greg. Greg Keely.”

“Keely eh? That’s a funny name.”

“Yeah, then what’s yours hm?”

“Um… well, I don’t tell most strangers.”

“I told you mine. And you know I’m Greg. Greg Keely.”

“Well ok Mr. Greg Greg Keely. My last name is McKim-Vadillo.”

“And you say my last name is funny.”

“Mine’s just long. Yours sounds funny.”

“Fine. I’ll bite.” She sat down in her chair. “I got the last name from my father, and he got it from his grandfather. But that’s about it. Before that, we were the Dundermans.”

“Dundermans?” She laughed. Her curls bounced as she did. “I’m glad you name is Keely.”

“Nope, it’s Greg.”

“Oh yes. So what do you do then?”

What could I say? I was unemployed just a week ago and now I’m working as a part time autoshop teacher as well as a Swedish teacher at Foothill High School. “Well um. I uh… am a…”

“It cant be that hard. Watch me. I am a cashier at Durant-Paulson Books. I love the work. I’m surrounded by books there and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Ok, you make it seem so easy. I’ll try then.” I cleared my throat and tried to look as professional as I could. “I teach Swedish at Balboa.” Those words came out rather rushed and to me, they sounded like I had inhaled a tank of helium.

“Swedish eh? That’s… that’s… well um…”

“Stupid isn’t it?”

“No, no, no. I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Well I think it is. Most of the kids don’t really pick it up at all. I end up with most of the bad kids and the few genuine kids who would want to learn such a language.”

“I’m sure I would have taken it.”

“Oh? Why?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because I know you’re the cute teacher teaching it.”

“Oh stop. I’m not that handsome. My last two girlfriends left me for that reason. I guess I’m not used to being called… handsome.”

“Those two wouldn’t know their ass from their elbow.”

Our conversation dragged for a few more hours and the streetlights outside in the squares were bright. We talked about everything from Faulkner to Hemingway. I showed her my frayed copy of The Sound and the Fury my mother had given me when I graduated from High School. The cloth cover was worn out and you couldn’t make out the name without getting close to the cover. It was 8:55 pm by now and I forgot I had to arrive at school early to help out with the entrance exams tomorrow. We stepped out into the open Washington square. The cathedral was illuminated against the bleak sky. I put my coat around her and she held onto my Faulkner for warmth through words. I waited with her at the Muni stop until a bus arrived. She had to go back to the other side of the bay. She handed me back my jacket but she held onto the book. I didn’t notice too much. She walked on and sat in the back row. She looked through the back window and bent over. I couldn’t imagine what was going on. I walked away. I walked away from a potential girlfriend. Another potential person to hurt me. Another person to hold me. I rounded the corner up Green street. Its not too far to my apartment. The stairway up seemed longer than ever that night. I showered, and changed and slipped beneath the massive comforter on my bed. The plastic numbers on my clock clattered without any satisfaction and the smoke detector blinked like a madman. I stared at the blank ceiling. The fixture was ancient and the bulb hoods cast an eerie shadow along one wall. A car passed by and the ceiling was bright for a moment, then went back to its dull mundane gray.

An old spontaneous story

You want that sort of how do you say... coffee shop meeting. You meet a boy in a little independent coffee shop somewhere in north beach. He's sitting in a corner bench covered in pillows by the window. In his hands, he's holding a ratty looking old hardbound book. Everything he does seems of an intellectual. The way he sat, how his striped collar shirt pokes out from the top of his old wool sweater.

You go up to him, you arent nervous. He spots you and cant help but smile. He moves his curly hair out of his face and glasses and offers you a seat. You move first by asking "watcha readin'?" He chuckles and can only say one word. "Faulkner".

Just the name Faulkner brings a mystique about him. He sets the book down and pulls out another book. The Grapes of Wrath. He certainly likes his classics you think. He apologizes for himself and explains he's a high school english teacher. He doesn't conform to the reading schedules schools provide for him and encourages everyone in his classes to read as much as possible.

You cant help it. You're pretty much glued to the wooden bench next to him. He sees you squirm a little and apologizes again. This time and offers you a pillow. You take it and blush. The thin wiry girl behind the stained counter calls you out. "Order up!" she cries. You flush with a little embarrassment and grab your coffee and sit back down next to your new stranger. Your eyes shoot daggers at the coffee lady. Her multiple piercings flash you with reflections from the old ceiling lamps.

He chuckles and puts the books away. You and him talk for hours on end about everything. The little nit picky details of F. Scott Fitzgerald's writing, or the beauty and simplicity of Hemingway. He notices its late now. You've lost complete track of time. Outside in Washington square, the lights are on and the cathedral is illuminated a brilliant white. He offers you his arm and to take you to your apartment. You tell him, you're an outsider. Not a San Franciscan.

What made him jump in shock, you'll never know. But he stays anyways. Waiting for the bus under the kiosk, the cold night air whips both of you. The bus is here. The electric arms clatter against the wires. You sit in back staring through the back portal and he's still there. The jolt of the starting bus rocks everything and everyone on board. A bag of fruit spills over. An old chinese woman stoops to pick them up. You help her. You look back up through the portal. He's gone. But you dont realize it, his Faulkner is in your hands.

Fit of Boredom

When you leave me alone, and a computer and a giant library of personal photographs, you're bound to get some photoshopping in. Also, leave me alone with a ball point pen, I will draw on myself.

Hats rule! Naw, just rules

Tips Of The Hat

GARY WARTH, Staff Writer
North County Times
Escondido, California

Hats are surprisingly complicated things.

They keep their wearers warm in the winter and cool in the summer, and sometimes function strictly as fashion accessories. But they also come with etiquette so complex that people have to consult guides just to wear them.

No other article of clothing must be donned, tipped or shed depending on the time of day, the type of event attended, whether the National Anthem is being played or whether a woman is present.

Sometimes hats are removed in elevators, sometimes they aren't. Men must take off their hats during the National Anthem, but women don't. Or do they?

There was a time when almost everyone knew these rules, but ever since hats fell out of fashion about 40 years ago, entire generations have come of age with little understanding of proper topper protocol.

More casual rules are followed today, sometimes appalling older people who remember traditional customs. So if you're donning an Easter bonnet today, it couldn't hurt to know some of the rules.

Respectful, but flirtatious

"It used to be very much an act of courtesy and respect to remove your hat," said Rancho Santa Fe resident Susan Witt, who teaches international protocol at San Diego State University. "It was kind of a flourish when a man removed a hat to show courtesy to a woman. It was a way of flirting. I think if men realized how handsome they looked when they wear a hat, they'd make a comeback."

Men aren't expected anymore to tip their hats in passing to women, but they are expected to remove them during the National Anthem. But are women required to do so?

"If it's a formal hat, even during the National Anthem, a woman would not remove her hat," Witt said.

Not everybody understand that rule, however, and some people take offense when a woman leaves her hat on. In those cases, Witt suggests it is better to set protocol aside for civility and harmony. "Sometimes it's better to succumb to the moment," she said.

Why are there different rules for men and women? Nationally syndicated columnist Miss Manners suspects it may have to do with the dramatically different styles of men's and women's hats.

Men's hats are easily removed, but women's hats with ribbons, bows, flowers and other decorations can be quite a production to remove, especially if they're anchored with hat pins.

Fair enough, but what if the woman and man are both wearing baseball caps? Does it make sense that only the man takes off his headgear during the National Anthem? Probably not, Miss Manners suggests. Without the traditional ladies' hat, she wrote, "you cannot claim the ladies' exemption."

Readers also have asked Miss Manners whether women are required to wear hats indoors and outdoors during the day, a question that once would have been obvious, according to Miss Manners.

"Ladies properly keep their hats on indoors, everywhere except their own houses, during the day," she writes. "Luncheons even traditionally required ladies to wear hats."

Miss Manners recognizes that some rules vary peculiarly. It is acceptable for Christian women to wear hats in church, but disrespectful for men to wear them. Not so with Conservative or Orthodox Jews, who would find it disrespectful for men not to cover their heads with a yarmulke when in a synagogue.

New generation, new rules

Escondido resident Jim Butkis, 59, always wears one of his 70 hats when going out and says he never has a problem remembering the rules.

"I instinctively follow it," he said about hat etiquette. "It wouldn't occur to me to wear a hat inside. It always surprises me when I see someone wearing a baseball cap in a relatively good restaurant."

Eric Leiser of San Diego, 20 and an employee at Villagehatshop.com, loves wearing classic hats, but he doesn't see much sense in following rules he sees as archaic.

"I go to church and I get these looks, and I don't think it's imagined," he said. "That's a little weird, because it's 2002.

"I get a little uncomfortable, and sometimes I'll take the hat off and sometimes I won't." Leiser said he won't wear a hat if he goes to other churches because he's wary of how people might react, however.

"I wouldn't wear it on a first date," Leiser said. "I wouldn't take it off in a restaurant, but maybe if it's at the Ritz Hotel, I would."

Not everybody is as lenient about hat etiquette. Leiser said his father, an accountant who works in Escondido, has told him he would not even wear a hat on casual Fridays.

There is one piece of hat etiquette Leiser still finds useful.

"A lot of times if I meet somebody, I'll do this because it's cool," he said, touching the brim of his gray fedora-like hat.

Classic rules

For people who want to brush up on etiquette before going out with a hat, numerous books and Web sites are available.

Advice from such etiquette sages as Amy Vanderbilt and Emily Post: Post is quoted as saying in 1959: "It is impossible for a hatless woman to be chic." She added that it is incorrect to wear a hat with an evening dress, however.

Hats can be worn to theaters or concerts, but people should remove them if they are blocking anyone's view.

Hat-wearers must be careful when putting something on the hatband, by the way. Anything put on the band of a man's hat must be on the left side, and anything on a woman's hatband must be on the right.

Amy Vanderbilt gave women the choice about whether to wear hats to outdoor parties and weddings in her 1963 "New Complete Book of Etiquette." Women should keep their hats on in homes holding christenings, weddings and funerals, because in those occasions the house is treated as if it were a house of worship, she said.

Women should not remove hats that go with dinner suits or dinner dresses throughout the evening. Miss Manners notes that daytime hats must be doffed at dusk.

If that is confusing, consider the rules Emily Post lays out for men who encounter women in elevators. A gentleman must take off his hat when a woman enters an elevator in an apartment building or a hotel, as those are considered dwellings. He puts it on again in the hall, because a public corridor is like a street. In public buildings, however, the elevator is also considered public, and the hat can stay on.

In Post's "Etiquette: The Blue Book of Social Usage" from 1959, she wrote that men tip or lift their hat only to strangers, not to friends, although a man would lift the hat if he encountered his wife. A hat also is tipped to a woman when passing in a narrow space or when the man speaks to her. If a man runs into a female acquaintance, he must take his hat off when talking to her, but can put it back on if they start walking.

Butkis said he remembers his grandfather had one big rule about tipping hats: Just don't do it to men.

"If you look at some of the old, old cowboy movies, like Tom Mix, if they'd really want to insult somebody, they'd tip their hat at them," he said. "My grandfather would say it's akin to calling them a woman."

One open letter

To whoever smirks at the panama,

I have a sensible hat. It keeps the sun out of my eyes, it dont get bogged down with heat like a wool cap would. It doesn't give me silly looking hat hair like you beanie folks. And yet you smirk. With your sweaty gloriousness and your funny looking hair. You smirk cause I dress differently. Because I try to pull back a little nostalgia into our lives. Posh tosh. You dont care. You dress exactly the same everyday. T shirt to the knees, Pants down to the backs of your kneees, a pair of boxers and two pairs of basketball shorts. Gotta have that close cropped hair with your two tone stripe and your name engraved in the back of your hair. You look at yourself in the mirror and you look at yourself good. Who's the funny looking one now? The kid who sports the fashion which has been around for decades? Or that new humbly jumbly stuff involving sweatshirts with random ugly designs and tshirts with tin foil stuck to it? Yeah, you look like a bum I saw once in Oakland. I swear to god the thing was wearing a bright orange, purple and green jacket and tinfoil pants. Lord knows you look just like them.

Zach

Surviving Fog

For those of you people who live in places where words like: hella! hecka! homie-g, dawg, bizitch dont exist tell me where you live and I will live with you. Just kidding. But seriously, I cant tolerate the levels of lower caste slang. From now on, i'm just going to refer to the people who perpetuate the stereotype of being "ghetto" even though you live in a rich city, the untouchable caste. Whatever happened to the caste system? It put people in their place, even if it was racist.

Sure, the whites pretty much dominated, but at this day and age, i'm sure we all can agree that a caste system is in good due order. As my punctuation. I may be racist, but i'm all for isolating the ghetto continuation people. Somehow, rappers show that not being musically inclined is somehow being musical and also being ghetto means a great life! What a load of bull honkey. In the 13 years of being a musician, I was trained to be understanding, educated, and to read music. Sure I didnt learn, but a good ear can help. If you ask any rapper to do a piece in compound meter, they'd just tell you to get the f*** out of their face before they pop a cap in yo' ass. They're just covering up the fact that they dont know jack.

On prom now. Every prom i've been to has involved two things, rap music and fuck dancing. My school seriously has killed social dances for me. In its entirety. I cant stand rap, you cant dance to it without looking like you're in the middle of sexual intercourse. Is that what school is trying to promote? Having sex while listening to music where every other word is damn, bitch, ho or fuck? If I had the option, I wouldn't go to these things. But I know, the key to a healthy life is a healthy relationship with people. Even if it means looking like an ass while dancing like an ass to music that sounds like it came out of an ass's ass.

I mean seriously, if you look at the senior demographic of my school. I would say about 24% acts ghetto, 40% acts normal, 20 percent is into indie and rock, 10 percent loves heavy metal and punk, 5 percent is emo and 1 percent is totally unsociable. So if only about 24 percent listens to rap, enjoys rap and whatnot, that's not a majority is it hm? And yet, they have complete dominance at proms and dances where everything is "buttfuck bizitches all night long. yo yo yo"

Graaah

Lately... some notes

• I admit it. I dont give a damn about proper nouns and capitals when it comes to myspace, facebook, AIM, MSN and whatnot. I decided apparently subconsciously, to give up all hope of correct grammar and spelling.
• I buy too many hats. In the past month, I've already bought two new hats. The new era fitted cap from Quicksilver and the YoungAn panama hat. I like the panama, but it's slightly damaged. But it looks very good on me.
• I havent been posting as much. Yes I know. Last month was an awesome posting month since I tried to compete with the number of posts to what day of the month it was. This month, a mere piddly single digit number.
• Unless I decide to crank out 10 posts tonight and tomorrow.
• I am going to Cal. UC Berkeley baby. I just got my calmail today too.
• I found a mattress on the ground in SF today. I was tempted to jump on it.
• Last week, I actually paid for *cough* you know. That stuff. On the internet. To watch. Yeah... Well I feel awkward now. Like there's nothing else to do at night.
  

Scholarship Clamitic Canundrum!

I participate in Ace. Its a scholarship program devoted to introducing young minds to Architecture, ENgineering and Construction Management. But i'll tell you later *wink*

Pick myself up, dust myself off

Its been awhile since I last posted here. So I'll give you all a recap of what i've done since my last post nearly 15 days ago.

1. I visited my two final college choices. Cal Poly San Luis Obispo. It was damned nice and I was on the verge of going there.
2. I visited Cal after that. I then decided to go to Cal.
3. I'm still confused on where to go (at that point)
4. I packed and left for NYC!
5. I came home. Didnt do any homework.
6. New compooper. Lost my old bookmarks
7. Paid for online book services for the first time. (blah)
8. Registered to attend cal
9 Still havent rejected CP

Batquotes

from:

Robin: "Let's go!"
Batman: "Not you, Robin. They have strict licensing laws in this country. A boy of your age is not allowed in a drinking tavern."

Dick Grayson: "What's so important about Chopin?"
Bruce Wayne: "All music is important, Dick. It's the universal language. One of our best hopes for the eventual realization of the brotherhood of man."
Dick Grayson: "Gosh Bruce, yes, you're right. I'll practice harder from now on."

Robin: "You can't get away from Batman that easy!"
Batman: "Easily."
Robin: "Easily."
Batman: "Good grammar is essential, Robin."
Robin: "Thank you."
Batman: "You're welcome."

Batman: "Better put 5 cents in the meter."
Robin: "No policeman's going to give the Batmobile a ticket."
Batman: "This money goes to building better roads. We all must do our part."

Robin: "Boy! That was our closest call ever! I have to admit that I was pretty scared!"
Batman: "I wasn't scared in the least."
Robin: "Not at all?"
Batman: "Haven't you noticed how we always escape the vicious ensnarements of our enemies?"
Robin: "Yeah, because we're smarter than they are!"
Batman: "I like to think it's because our hearts are pure."

Robin: "Holy molars! Am I ever glad I take good care of my teeth!"
Batman: "True. You owe your life to dental hygiene."

Bruce: "Yes, Dick, your bird calls are close to perfect. If more people practiced them, someday we might have a chance for real communication with our feathered friends."
Dick: "In that case I think I'll polish up my ruby-crowned kinglet and my rose-breasted yellow-tailed grouse-beak calls."

Dick: "Sorry, I'm not interested in dance lessons."
Bruce: "Wait a minute, Dick. The junior prom's coming up, isn't it?"
Dick: "Yes, but..."
Bruce: "Well, we don't want you to be a wallflower, do we? Dancing is an integral part of every young man's education."
Dick: "Gosh Bruce, you're right."

Batman to Robin: "When you get a little older, you'll see how easy it is to become lured by the female of the species."

Robin: "I guess you can never trust a woman."
Batman: "You've made a hasty generalization, Robin. It's a bad habit to get into."

Robin: "That's an impossible shot, Batman."
Batman: "That's a negative attitude, Robin."

Batman: "The green button will turn the car a la escarda o a la drecia."
Robin: "To the left or right. Threw in a little Spanish on me, huh, Batman?"
Batman: "One should always keep abreast of foreign tongues, Robin."

Dick: "Gosh, Economics is sure a dull subject."
Bruce: "Oh, you must be jesting, Dick. Economics dull? The glamour, the romance of commerce... Hmm. It's the very lifeblood of our country's society."

"Gosh, Batman, you're right!"

Bruce: "Don't dip your oar in this sordid sea, Dick. You might be besmirched."

Batman: "That's one trouble with dual identities, Robin. Dual responsibilities."

Batman: "In fact, Mr. Wayne is taking Mrs. Harriet Cooper, a devotee of Miss Glaze's, backstage before the performance to meet the dazzling star."
Robin: "While Dick Grayson, I suppose, stays home and works on his essay on glaciers?"
Batman: "Right again, Robin."

Robin: "To the batcave?"
Batman: "And up the batpoles."
Robin: "The batpoles?"
Batman: "Even crimefighters need their sleep, Robin."

Robin: "Picked up the seal pulsator yet, Batman?"
Batman: "We're still over land, Robin, and a seal is an aquatic, marine mammal."
Robin: "Gosh, yes, Batman, I forgot."

Robin: "Where'd you get a live fish, Batman?"
Batman: "The true crimefighter always carries everything he needs in his utility belt, Robin."

Robin: "Batman, maybe I should stay home tonight. Homework, you know."
Batman: "I think you should acquire a taste for opera, Robin, as one does for poetry and olives."

Robin, to Carpet King: "You must be that gentleman I've read about. Aren't you a king or something?"
Batman: "Robin, England has no king now. England has a queen, and a great lady she is, too."

Robin: "Gosh, Batman, this camel grass juice is great."
Batman: "Beware of strong stimulants, Robin."

Batman: "Robin, the Constitution provides that a man is innocent until proven guilty. And the Constitution is the cornerstone of our great nation. We must abide by it."
Robin: "Gosh, when you put it that way..."

Batman: "Man-eating lilacs have no teeth, Robin. It's a process of ingestion through their tentacles."

Batman (after cracking a safe): "It's not difficult, if you have steady nerves and a good ear. Quality is destroyed by the tenor of criminal life."

Batman: "An older head can't be put on younger shoulders."

Robin: "Venus seemed like a nice girl in that costume."
Batman: "I suspect she is a nice girl down deep, but she's fallen in with bad companions. And who knows what her home life was like."

Batman: "Go back outside and calm the flower children."
Robin: "They'll mob me!"
Batman: "Groovy."

Batman: "You know your neosauruses well, Robin. Peanut butter sandwiches it is."

Batman: "Too many Bessarovian Cossacks around here, Robin. If I'd joined you in the fight, some of them may have been injured."

Robin, about Batgirl: "She's gone again! For once, Batman, let's follow her."
Batman: "No, Robin. With my head sticking out of this neosaurus costume, I might not appear like an ordinary, run of the mill crimefighter."

Bruce: "Just because we're traveling, I don't think that Dick should neglect his studies, so we brought along one thousand key works of literature, his biological specimens, and also his own desk."
Dick: "Yes, I expect to study hard."

Batman: "You're far from mod, Robin. And many hippies are older than you are."

Superintendent Watson: "Well, I think this calls for a cup of char at venerable Ireland Yard."
Robin: "Char?"
Batman: "Yes, Robin, a colloquialism for tea."

Catwoman: "Let noone say that Catwoman is not the best-dressed woman in the world."
Batman: "There are no fashion shows where you're going, Catwoman."
Robin: "And how could a feline feloness like you also be a fashion model?"
Batman: "Ah-ah. Give credit where credit is due, Robin. She may be evil, but she is attractive. You'll know more about that in a couple of years."

Robin: "If we close our eyes, we can't see anything."
Batman: "A sound observation, Robin."

Robin, about Catwoman: "Do you think she'll kill Batgirl?"
Batman: "Or worse, Robin. Or worse."

Batman: "Nobody wants war."
Robin: "Gee, Batman. Belgravia's such a small country. We'd beat them in a few hours."
Batman: "Yes, and then we'd have to support them for years."

Joker: "Let bygones be bygones. I'd like to shake hands with both of you. Can't we be friends?"
Robin: "I'd rather shake hands with a spitting cobra!"
Batman: "You're being cynical, Robin. To err is human, to forgive...divine."

Batman: "What took you so long, Batgirl?"
Batgirl: "Rush hour traffic, plus all the lights were against me. And you wouldn't want me to speed, would you?"
Robin: "Your good driving habits almost cost us our lives!"
Batman: "Rules are rules, Robin. But you do have a point."

Batman: "Cattail Lane and Nine Lives Alley. The Grimalkin Novelty Company is on that corner."
Robin: "Grimalkin? What kind of a name is that?"
Batman: "An obscure but nevertheless acceptable synonym for cat, Robin."

Robin, looking at Batgirl: "You know something, Batman?"
Batman: "What's that, Robin?"
Robin: "She looks very pretty when she's asleep."
Batman: "I thought you might eventually notice that. That single statement indicates to me the first oncoming thrust of manhood, old chum."

Robin: "Gosh, if I could just figure out that riddle. Why can't I get it?"
Batman: "Maybe your mind's on that cute little teenager who waved to you on the way across town, eh?"
Robin: "Awww, come on, Batman."

Dick: "Awww, heck! What's the use of learning French anyway?"
Bruce: "Dick, I'm surprised at you! Language is the key to world peace. If we all spoke each other's tongues, perhaps the scourge of war would be ended forever."
Dick: "Gosh, Bruce, yes. I'll get these darn verbs if they kill me!"

Robin: "What do we do, tip off Commissioner Gordon?"
Batman: "No, not on your life, old man. The Penguin and I have a score to settle."

Dick: "Wow! The rings of Saturn! This is sure some fun, Bruce."
Bruce: "Astronomy is more than mere fun, Dick."
Dick: "It is?"
Bruce: "Yes, it helps give us a sense of proportion. Reminds us how little we are, really. People tend to forget that sometimes."
Dick: "Gosh yes, that's right. I'll bet I see those rings a little differently this time!"

Robin: "Gosh, there could be diplomatic repercussions if we fail this time, Batman."
Batman: "That's not the point, Robin. What's important is that the world know that all visitors to these teeming shores are safe, be they peasant or king."
Robin: "Gee, Batman, I never thought of that. You're right."
Batman: "It's the very essence of our democracy."

Batman to Robin: "Stop fiddling with that atomic pile and come down here!"

Dick: "Gosh, botany is tough. I'll never learn to recognize all these trees!"
Bruce: "Come come, Dick. Pine. Elm. Hickory, chestnut, maple. Part of our heritage is the lure of living things, the storybook of nature."
Dick: "That's true, Bruce. I'll learn to read that book of nature yet!"

Batman: "Robin, you haven't fastened your safety bat-belt."
Robin: "We're only going a couple of blocks."
Batman: "It won't be long until you are old enough to get a driver's license, Robin, and you'll be able to drive the Batmobile and other vehicles. Remember, motorist safety."
Robin: "Gosh, Batman, when you put it that way.."

Bruce: "When we have more time, I'll acquaint you with the various processes of sculptoring. It's a fascinating art to which I devoted many hours of study."
Dick: "I sure would like to hear about it, Bruce."

Batman (during a bat-climb): "Careful, Robin. Both hands on the Bat-rope."
Robin: "Sorry, Batman."

Robin (about Lydia Limpet): "Gosh, Batman, those look like honest eyes."
Batman: "Never trust the old chestnut, 'Crooks have beady little eyes'. It's false."

Robin: "When we put the fake jewels in Miss Starr's safe and take the real ones out, we could be nailed as crooks."
Batman: "That's a chance we have to take, Robin. In our well ordered society, protection of private property is essential."
Robin: "Yes, you're right, Batman. That's the keystone to all law and order."

Dick Grayson: "I thought Lima was the capital of Equador."
Bruce Wayne: "As you can see, I was right. It's the capital of Peru."
Aunt Harriet: "Oh, I just love this game of capitals. It's just so educational!"
Bruce: "Not only that, if we don't know all about our friends to the south, how can we can carry out our good neighbor policy?"

Bruce: "Most Americans don't realize what we owe to the ancient Incas. Very few appreciate they gave us the white potato and many varieties of Indian corn."
Dick: "Now whenever I eat mashed potatos, I for one will think of the Incas."

Dick (working on a jigsaw puzzle): "It's so much harder with the pieces upside down."
Bruce: "Of course. Think of what excellent training it is for your visual memory."
Dick: "Gosh yes, I guess that's true."

(in Batmobile, on golf course)
Robin: "Let's get going and make an emergency bat-turn!"
Batman: "Not this time, old chum. Have to think of the golfers. The retro-rockets would burn up the course for a hundred yards."

Batman: "Human mechanisms are made by human hands, Robin. None of them is infallible. It is a lesson that must be faced."

Batman: "That's life, Robin, full of ups and downs. It ill befits any of us to become to confident."

Batman (about to cross the street): "Remember Robin, always look both ways."

Robin: "It sure is a shame, Batman. A restaurant with such terrific chow turning out to be a mere front for some criminal scheme."
Batman: "Look at it this way, Robin. That $100 cover charge is pretty stiff. Penguin's 'terrific chow' is hardly within the budget of the average worker."
Robin: "Gosh yes, you're right, Batman. All the needy people in the world, all the hungry children."
Batman: "Good thinking, Robin."

Dick: "Gosh Bruce, Greek is still Greek to me."
Aunt Harriet: "It's Greek to a lot of Greeks too. It's one of the world's oldest, most important, most beautiful languages."
Dick: "It may be, Aunt Harriet, but can't we take a breather and work out in the gym for a while?"
Aunt Harriet: "But the mind needs excercise too, Dick."
Dick: "Well, my mind is getting muscle-bound."
Bruce: "Ahhh, there is an old saying, Dick. A sound mind and a sound body. A worthy goal."

Batman: "Ma Parker's girl is more dangerous than her three boys."
Robin: "Her legs sort of reminded me of Catwoman's."
Batman: "You're growing up, Robin. Remember, in crime-fighting always keep your sights raised."

Robin: "But what is it?"
Batman: "Saribus Sacer. A species of ancient Egyptian beetle, sacred to the Sun God, Hymeopolos. And from which the term scarab is derived. But, you should know that, Robin, if you are up on your studies of Egyptology."
Robin: "You're right."

Batman: "I know. Hieroglyphics self-taught are a chore, Robin; but, it is a surefire way to unravel the secrets of the ancient mystics."

Batman: "Experience teaches slowly, Robin. And at a cost of many mistakes."

Robin: "I am a little hungry."
Batman: "Of course, Robin. Even crime-fighters must eat. And especially you. You're a growing boy and you need your nutrition."

Batman: "Remember the Boy Scouts' motto."
Robin: "'Be prepared'."
Batman: "It would do well to keep that in mind at all times."

Robin: "We better hurry, Batman."
Batman: "Not too fast, Robin. In good bat-climbing as in good driving one must never sacrifice safety for speed."
Robin: "Right again, Batman."

Batman: "Tarnished reputations are unfortunate, Robin. We can live with those. However, a threat to all of Gotham City is something else."

Robin: "Self-control is sure tough sometimes, Batman!"
Batman: "All virtues are, old chum. Indeed, that's why they're virtues."

Robin: "How about rushing the place, Batman?"
Batman: "Shh. I think not, Robin. All they've done so far is stolen a few items, attempted to kill you, me, and Batgirl. No, I think they plan something really big."

Dick: "Bruce, let me ride Waynebow. I'm light enough."
Bruce: "No, Dick, I couldn't allow my own ward to ride my own thoroughbred. People might think it was funny."

Advice from Craigslist again...

1. Don’t pick on the weak. It’s immoral. Don’t antagonize the strong without cause, its stupid.
2. Don’t hate women. It’s a waste of time
3. Invest in yourself. Material things come to those that have self actualized.
4. Get in a fistfight, even if you are going to lose.
5. As a former Marine, take it from me. Don’t join the military, unless you want to risk getting your balls blown off to secure other people’s economic or political interests.
6. If something has a direct benefit to an individual or a class of people, and a theoretical, abstract, or amorphous benefit to everybody else, realize that the proponent’s intentions are to benefit the former, not the latter, no matter what bullshit they try to feed you.
7. Don’t be a Republican. They are self-dealing crooks with no sense of honor or patriotism to their fellow citizens. If you must be a Republican, don’t be a “conservative.” They are whining, bitching, complaining, simple-minded self-righteous idiots who think they’re perpetual victims. Listen to talk radio for a while, you’ll see what I mean.
8. Don’t take proffered advice without a critical analysis. 90% of all advice is intended to benefit the proponent, not the recipient. Actually, the number is probably closer to 97%, but I don’t want to come off as cynical.
9. You’ll spend your entire life listening to people tell you how much you owe them. You don’t owe the vast majority of people shit.
10. Don’t undermine your fellow young men. Mentor the young men that come after you. Society recognizes that you have the potential to be the most power force in society. It scares them. Society does not find young men sympathetic. They are afraid of you, both individually and collectively. Law enforcement’s primary purpose is to suppress you.
11. As a young man, you’re on your own. Society divides and conquers. Unlike women who have advocates looking out for them (NOW, Women’s Study Departments, government, non-profit organizations, political advocacy groups) almost no one is looking out for you.
12. Young men provide the genius and muscle by which our society thrives. Look at the Silicone Valley. By in large, it was not old men or women that created the revolution we live. Realize that society steals your contributions, secures it with our intellectual property laws, and then takes credit and the rewards where none is due.
13. Know that few people have your best interests at heart. Your mother does. Your father probably does (if he stuck around). Your siblings are on your side. Everybody else worries about themselves.
14. Don’t be afraid to tell people to “Fuck off” when need be. It is an important skill to acquire. As they say, speak your piece, even if your voice shakes.
15. Acquire empathy, good interpersonal skills, and confidence. Learn to read body language and non-verbal communication. Don’t just concentrate on your vocational or technical skills, or you’ll find your wife fucking somebody else.
16. Keep fit.
17. Don’t speak ill of your wife/girlfriend. Back her up against the world, even if she’s wrong. She should know that you have her back. When she needs your help, give it. She should know that you’ll take her part.
18. Don’t cheat on your wife/girlfriend. If you must cheat, don’t humiliate her. Don’t risk having your transgressions come back to her or her friends. Don’t do it where you live. Don’t do it with people in your social circle. Don’t shit in your own back yard.
19. If your girlfriend doesn’t make you feel good about yourself and bring joy to your life, fire her. That’s what girlfriends are for.
20. Don’t bother with “emotional affairs.” They are just a vehicle for women to flirt and have someone make them feel good about themselves. That’s the part of a relationship they want. For you it is a lot of work and investment in time. If they are having an emotional affair with you, they’re probably fucking someone else.
21. Becoming a woman’s friend and confidant is not going to get you into an intimate relationship. If you haven’t gotten the girl within a reasonably short period of time, chances are you won’t ever get her. She’ll end up confiding to you about the sexual adventures she’s having with someone else.
22. Have and nurture friendships with women.
23. Realize that love is a numbers game. Guys fall in love easily. You’re going to see some girl and feel like you’ll die if you don’t get her. If she rejects you, move on to the next one. It’s her loss.
24. Don’t be an internet troll. Got out and live life. There is not a cadre of beautiful women advertising on Craigslist to have NSA sex with you. Beautiful women don’t need to advertise. The websites that advertise with attractive women’s photos and claims of loneliness are baloney. All they want is your money and your personal information so that they can market to you. The posts on Craigslist by young “women” seeking NSA sex, and asking for a picture are just a bunch of gay troll pic collectors. This is especially true if the post uses common gay lexicon like “hole” as in “fuck my hole” or seeks “masculine” men, or uses the word cock (except in the context of “Don’t send a cock shot.”) There are women on Craigslist. They are easily recognizable by their 2-5 paragraph postings. Most are in their 30's or older.
25. When you become a man in full, know that people will get in your way. People who are attracted to you will somehow manage to step in your path. Gay guys will give you “the look.” Old people will somehow stumble in front of you at the worst time. Don’t get frustrated. Just step aside and go about your business. Know that these are passive aggressive methods to get you to acknowledge their existence.
26. Don’t gay bash. Don’t mentally or physically abuse people because of who they are, or how they present themselves. It’s none of your business to try to intimidate people into conformity.
27. If your gay, admit it to yourself, your parents, your friends and society at large. Be prepared to get harassed. See rule 14. If someone threatens you or assaults you, call the cops. Have them arrested. You have no obligation to self sacrifice because of who you are. As a gay person, you’ll have more social freedom than straight men. Use it to protect yourself. Be prepared to get out of Dodge if your orientation makes your life unbearable. Move to San Francisco, New York, Atlanta, or New Orleans. You’ll find a welcoming community there.
28. Don’t be a poser. Avoid being one of those dudes who puts a surfboard on top of their car, but never surfs, or a dude with a powder coated fixed gear bike and a messenger bag, but was never a messenger. Live the life. Earn your bona fides.
29. Don’t believe the crap about the patriarchy. More women are accepted and attend college. More degrees are awarded to women than men. Women outlive men. More men commit suicide. Men are twice as likely to be victims of violence, including murder. If you consider sexual assaults in prisons, twice as many men are raped as women (society thinks prison rape is funny). The streets are littered with homeless men, sprinkled with a few homeless women. Statically, women are happier than men. The myth that girls are being cheated by are educational system is belied by the fact that schools are bastions of femininity, mostly run by and taught by women. Girls outperform boys in school. It is the boys in school getting fucked over, and prescribed ritalin for being boys. Real wages for men are falling, while real wages for women are rising. Just because someone says something enough times, doesn’t make it true. You have nothing to feel guilty about.
30. Remember, 97% of all advice is worthless. Take what you can use, and trash the rest.A

NY TRIP!

I need to think! What Do I bring?

5 tshirts
1 white tshirt
Uniform and bag
Suit bag
Levis 549? or 527?
5 socks
5 boxers
Berkeley Sweatshirt
2 Button shirts
1 pair chucks
1 pair flipflops
bathroom stuff
Camera Charger
Cellphone charger
Wallet and ID
Datebook
Clarinet
Music
2 pairs of basketball shorts
Ushanka
Camera
Cellphone
Dress Shoes
Jacket (medium and waterproof)

ACCEPTANCE!

I've been accepted everywhere except davis. SCREW THE COWS!

I'm a:

Golden Bear
Aardvark
Mustang
Bronco
Buccaneer or a
Elephant

What to decide...