a reflection of my trip to mexico

written in mexico, in the passenger's seat driving through the middle of the night towards Palenque

México

I write to you in the night

When my ink might best reflect your heavens

I have only the light of your eyes:

stars, deep black half moons

I breathe the deep breath of another day passed between us

And I know by your silence that you breathe with me

---

A small girl stands in the soaking rains of San Cristobal de las Casas

Holding the hand of her grandmother, fingers entertwined,

Between curtains of sopping hair, she peers across the street, now a river of water.

In her shoulders, she misses her mother,

In her heart is a river of water.

In her eyes is a reflection of the strong mountain sky from which she was born.

In Puerto Escondido your gaily painted houses

Rest against one another like long retired party-goers

Sleeping haphazardly on your soft sandy beaches

Fearing a new "tourist-friendly" makeover

In Cholula, an elderly former English teacher has given

tours of the pyramid tunnels for the past 30 years.

He left teaching so that he could better provide for his family

and though he still struggles, he pauses to tell of your treasures;

especially of your horchata cocoa

In Palenque, your future has built a town around your past,

Like a mother swathing her child in a blanket

Agua azul and the towering mayan ruins, there is so much to cherish,

It is present in every moment, in every part of mexico, new and old

---

We know that every morning fog eventually rises to give way to hope.

From your past, the ruins of great civilizations still linger.

Now your beautiful families overflow from cars and trucks,

Your children sit on bumpers, chewing tacos fresa, sipping chupando licuados

Your children sit on the edges of your mountains, on both your coasts,

In your heartland, with warm eyes, and inviting smiles,

Feet dangling into the valley of Mexico City,

into the warm waters - your blood, and squint into their rising sun.

México

Te escribo at ti en la noche

Cuando mi tinta talvez reflejara mejor tus cielos

Solamente tengo la luz de tus ojos:

Estrellas, medias lunas negras profundas

Respiro la respiración profunda de otro día pasado entre nosotros

Y yo se por tu silencio que tu respiras conmigo

---

Una niña chica se para en la imprégnate lluvia de San Cristóbal de las Casas

Agarrando la mano de su abuela, dedos entrelazados

Entre las cortinas de pelo empapado, se fija a través de la calle, ahora un río de agua.

En sus hombros, extraña a su madre,

En su corazón hay un río de agua.

En sus ojos hay una reflexión del cielo fuerte de la montaña de donde ella nació.

En Puerto Escondido sus casas pintadas alegremente

Descansan una contra la otra como festejantes retirados ya de largo

Casualmente durmiendo sobre tus suave arenosas playas

Temiendo un nuevo “turístico” cambio de imagen

En Cholula, un anciano ex-maestro de ingles ha guiado

Viajes de los túneles de las pirámides por los últimos 30 años.

El dejo su carrera para que poderle a su familia una vida mejor

Y aunque todavía batalla, el pausa para hablar sobre tus tesoros;

Especialmente de tu horchata de cocoa

En Palenque, tu futuro esta construido alrededor de tu pasado,

Como una madre envolviendo su hijo en una colcha

Agua azul y las exigentes ruinas mayas, hay bastante que apreciar,

Esta presente en cada momento, en cada parte de México, nuevo y pasado

--

Sabemos que cada neblina eventualmente sube para dar paso a la esperanza.

De tu pasado, las ruinas de grandes civilizaciones todavía persisten.

Ahora tus bellas familias desbordan de los carros y coches,

Tus hijos se sientan en los topes, masticando tacos fresa, chupando licuados

Tus hijos se sientan en los bordes de tus montañas, en ambas de tus costas,

En tu centro, con ojos tiernos, y sonrisas benévolas,

Pies colgando en el valle de D.F.,

En las aguas termales- tú sangre, y bizquera en su sol naciente.

underscore the brilliance of darkness

quote:
The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. What is called resignation is confirmed desperation ... A stereotyped but unconscious despair is concealed even under what are called the games and amusements of mankind. ~ Henry David Thoreau

peace peace

alone never never alone

cross humble streams streams humble cross

algorithmic machinations give pause pause give machinations algorithmic
atop glittering confetti trails moonlit moonlit trails confetti glittering atop
paths iced streets glistening rain kiss dreams dreams kiss rain glistening streets iced paths
eyes held hands love thick substantive air words words air substantive thick love hands held eyes

peace peace

curmudgeon filled donuts

quote:  

1. Find a subject you care about.

2. Do not ramble, though.
3. Keep it simple.
4. Have the guts to cut.
5. Sound like yourself.
6. Say what you mean to say.
7. Pity the readers. Kurt Vonnegut Jr.

fall fell on us this year.  the trees sighed and lost their leaves, bicycles' spokes rebelled, knitted hats hugged foreheads, big toes made holes in wool socks, red blood cells put on long underwear, red noses sniffled in unison waiting for buses and trains, fingers curled inside wrinkled palms, eyes took snapshots of falling leaves creating flipbooks, mouths carefully (so as not to be too generous) smiled.  

inure circumspect octopus eyes

quote:  Language is the house of the truth of Being.   ...Transcendence constitutes selfhood.  Martin Heidegger

pillows satiate mouths and minds

like rivers flow into ponds and oceans

i have been away and gone and 

i have always been here and still am

take care-o

Quote:
To study the meaning of man and of life — I am making significant progress here. I have faith in myself. Man is a mystery: if you spend your entire life trying to puzzle it out, then do not say that you have wasted your time. I occupy myself with this mystery, because I want to be a man. Fyodor Dostoevsky

underneath china is soil.
it is not red.


i got home from mehico (as shane says) a few days ago, which was about the best 17-day hiatus from chicago ever aside from two bouts with food poisoning. i discovered among other things that very large cactii are not aloe plants, as I once thought must be the case as there are so many aloe plants and they surely must not extract aloe from such small plants as the one I have sitting next to my desk. and i also re-discovered what it is like not having my normal priorities in life, and rather the silly priorities of traveling (such as what to with skin that has been improperly treated with aforementioned "aloe) which was an incredible break. finally, i learned that mexican culture is just as complex as i thought it was. surely not a revelation, right? well, let me just say that 17 days, even with fairly close exposure (let me assure you), is not enough time to measure them. but i likem so far. and their huge country of mountains and desert and ancient ruins and topes (spanish for "peaks", english for speed bumps).

3000k of driving 1 liter of tequila 2 liters of beer. 1 fresher person.

cheers

poof!

quote:
In secret we met
In silence I grieve,
That thy heart could forget,
Thy spirit deceive.
If I should meet thee
After long years,
How should I greet thee?
With silence and tears.
Lord Byron
in truth, we laugh internally --
corn popping, water boiling, lava rising --
our outside is composed of reflections upon reflections
a great pond underneath white clouds, underneath the atmosphere,
underneath an always night sky, in a distant galaxy,
what we see we compose, edit and repeat
life imitates art, imitates life, until every so often
a small discreet reflection, misfires, breaks the fourth wall,
and we discover anew what to reflect, to hold close, internally.

lethargic sunspot calculus

quote:
There is the past and its continuing horrors: violence, war, prejudices against those who are different, outrageous monopolization of the good earth's wealth by a few, political power in the hands of liars and murderers, the building of prisons instead of schools, the poisoning of the press and the entire culture by money. It is easy to become discouraged observing this, especially since this is what the press and television insist that we look at, and nothing more. But there is also the bubbling of change under the surface of obedience: the growing revulsion against endless wars, the insistence of women all over the world that they will no longer tolerate abuse and subordination...
Howard Zinn
a seed grows underground towards heat like feeble hands reaching towards sun's rays, mother's milk, from heart most fallow, genesis imploded, fertilized with dung, tears, sweat, escaped green hairs berthed from black night earth, through chiseled fist, secret whispers from mother, thicker graduation, reaching towards sun, life, displaced, evolution defenestrated, hydrogen and carbon chains weaving intricate threads, neck peeks between devastated bricks of civilization, taut proteins, pride, anger!, pride, humbling wind, reaching towards excitement swelling in throat, nervous, pleasure, toe caffeine-tapping, full orchestra sawing meticulously on life's strings, a bud forms lips to kiss, lips formed millennia ago deep in muddy river bottoms, deep in the seed of earth, lips of soot, of strife, of lost generations, of communal holy presence, of water, of blood, of sun, of dirt, raises its flag and salutes its god.

elven irises blooms day

quote: La llama llama llama - spanish tongue twister.


if you think of energy in the most commonplace western reference of a gas gauge, it seems as if i keep reinventing empty as the summer spins circles in my day-planner, doodling over the lines of hours and minutes and even days. and it's mostly great stuff to be wrapped up in - beach volleyball games, choir practices, meeting friends here and there - sure, i've rescheduled a doctors' appointment for a third time in order to fit things in, but it was worthwhile too. if only the whole year had such urgency. can i bottle this?

a chinese proverb an invisible friend sent me:
spring is sooner recognized by plants than by men

fresh

quote:
"I sit on a man's back, choking him, and making him carry me, and yet assure myself and others that I am very sorry for him and wish to ease his lot by any means possible, except getting off his back." - Leo Tolstoy

this weekend, i left the chi for manitowac, wisconsin. one of the first things we did in manitowac, of course, was to get very greasy burgers and cheese curds (deep fried breaded cheese) at a local diner, once car-hop, called "Late's." directions to Late's included passing a certain number of churches, turning after the train tracks, right before the giant cow statue. yes, this was Wisconsin. And when inside Late's one could smell a combination of grease and long-standing customer satisfaction and see young female waitresses with oil-slicked hair pulled into tight ponytails while the entire town it seemed, beer-bellied up to the counter, with ruminations on little league games and motorcycle stories, pulling children onto barstools and finding ways to shovel in inordinate amounts of food, stretching arms over distances created by fat bellies to reach the counter-top. and on top of all the grease, grins shone from the dilapidated walls of this landmark, never changed, never needing change, in spite of a changing world.

Late's is part of the story behind why Americans are fat and will continue to be, and it makes me kind of proud. (I'm going to go eat some vegetables.)

query fallow fields' objectivity

quote:
"Only a vessel half-full can be shaken." chinese proverb

when luminescent fish at the bottom of the sea die

they don't blink out, they don't sputter any last words or smoke cigarettes, they don't deflate like bagpipes,

they become infinite.


(based on a poem by William Blake)


~fresh

immoderate household gelatin molds

quote:
There is strong shadow where there is much light.
~Goethe
sometimes there is an itch in the brain, impossible to scratch, that begs one to bend thoughts towards it in hopes of overwhelming the area with so much electrical synergy that it might spark a soothing black-out. this is how one ends up talking in circles, being forced to talk in circles. everything is connected back to one focal point, regardless of the expanse of material covered, at times, every single phenomenon might simply suggest one truth: spanish conquistadors created the foundation of capitalism today; family is a state of mind; vampires really do control the night. all of these truths are valid reasons to try and drink so much water that you might drown your brain and the pull of the moon will create a tide that will eventually squall the focal point. but the mind still trips on the consonance of the bermuda triangle.

~fresh

pommes frites . pompeii

quote:
The philosophers have only interpreted the world, in various ways. The point, however, is to change it.
Karl Marx

Last week, on my way out of a local Burger King in the morning, (I have long been obsessed with their breakfast menu), I noticed a Burger King employee was outside the front entrance on a ladder, where I park my bike. Usually Burger King people don't leave the building, or if they do, it seems they have the sense not to be in uniform, and at least the sense not to be in uniform on a ladder. I couldn't help myself but look up at the employee on the ladder in the morning as I unchained my bike. As I looked up I noticed the ladder was next to a flag pole, and the BK employee asked me,
Do you know how to put this up correctly? (referring to the flag).
I took a minute to acquaint myself to my milieu (I use this word instead of "surroundings" obviously because anything outside a burger king is very fancy) and realized that a man in a pick-up truck, just past the drive-thru window was yelling at the employee on the ladder about how the flag should be put up properly. It was at this point that I decided this situation was definitely worthy of my time. As it turns out, he refused to pay for his food until the American flag was properly hoisted about the building. The great part is, someone in Burger King decided to actually try to satisfy his request. To my knowledge the flag looked pretty normal, though it was a bit saggy, perhaps from a lack of wind. I shrugged in reply to the employees' request for help, at which point he continued,
I don't know how to do this 'properly'. It's not like I fuckin' killed people for this country.
I watched a few more moments of the man in the truck gesturing and yelling out the window, the employee struggling and cussing in full uniform, and rode off.

I wish every morning could be so educational.

fresh

idyllic poppy-seed caked shoelaces

quote:
Man cannot do without beauty, and this is what our era pretends to want to disregard. - Albert Camus

A few nights ago, in a gesture of radical disregard (something we need more of) for sleep and scheduling (as if they deserve a place at the table, grumph), after spending the night jumping from one responsibility to another, my day-planner beamed!, brushed its shoulders off, (work, salsa dancing, choir), i spent a fine hour or so, irresponsibly sitting on the trunk of a grey toyota camry (the car that everyone has, which is perhaps a justification for why i once totaled one - an artistic flurry against sameness and suburbia), in a mostly empty parking lot, being slightly rained upon at times (looking up at the angle of rain is fascinating - glistening armies of thoughts obliquely directed before touchdown), staring at a terribly ugly apartment building (so ugly it can't be described), playing guitar and singing (when possible), through an almost-lost, raggedy voice that sounded as if it had been put out to dry on the clothesline 15 years ago and forgotten about since, stiff fringes fraying in the wind (i am standing resolute in the final battle against a week-long cold that at first seemed more of a passing murmur and sneakily turned a trumpeting forte), and everything about this tiny decision, the dewy, humid, not-cold not-hot temperature, the way time froze like raindrops in street lights, the random location in the world and transformative nature of words and music: turning grey trunk to concert hall, finger pulls on metal strings to emotions and wordless feelings , parking lot to private place of beauty (however you imagine it, wherever you imagine it(i keep mine to myself so you don't loiter there)), no longer affixed to longitudinal latitudinal location or time or scheduling or sleep, or sentence structure, grammar, the english language, typical blog posting form, normative values, mustaches, receding hairlines, sky-writing, and jenga; gum stretches so magically between ground and shoe sole, so it seems.

mind-numb-dumb-aplomb

"How sickness enlarges the dimension of a man's self to himself ... ... of staying healthy. It's a question of finding a sickness you like." - Jackie Mason

After spending a weekend partying in coffee shops, aligning beer bottles and shot glasses next to each other, and hardly donating a minute to the cause of sleep, I ended up sick. Not a surprise. I did achieve, however, in my waking weekend moments, turning bittersweet chocolate into something fondu-able for my friend Ted's birthday, throwing a smashing going away barbecue for my mate, Eileen, who has now left for San Fran, reacquainting with a super old pal, and acquiring some random sickness that fills my head with heat and intercepts any notion of spacial awareness.

I then had a very busy early week at work and so had to work through the sickness, which of course made it worse. At the height of sickness, while running a large event with lots of people, including the Treasurer of Chicago (random), I had to communicate with quite a few people, but I could not tell how loud I was speaking nor could I tell if anyone could hear me, nor did I have the capacity to speak louder, as I had lost my voice. Instead of being frustrated with this isolating communication incident, I actually kind of fell into it, like one might into a room full of pillows. There was nothing I could do more than what I was doing and so, in this very exciting way, I actually relaxed into a complete sick mess of human-being. And then I luckily took the next day off to recover. In this way, I really like the quote I open this blog entry with (and I know I'm usually not so literal in explaining the point of the post, but I'm afraid the point might be missed). If we allow ourselves to fall into a sickness (which might be replaced with the word "unique traits"), then I think we might ultimately find our happiness - which for each of us is unique, right.

Not to go too philosophical here, but if we choose to say join a knitting club and go full-tilt knitting, even at a ripe age, because we love it, and don't fear the perceptions (which it seems many 20-somethings are obsessed with (i cite wicker park)) it's probably a good formula for fulfillment.

fresh

milk bottle skyscape

quote:
" I used to think love was an old man smashing a mirror over his knee" -jeffrey mcdaniel
hello spring. i want to officially welcome you back to chicago. this now means my bike lanes through chicago are a bit more congested with fair-weather riders. it also means there are heaps of motorcycles. which i like to pass on my bicycle - especially the bearded motorcyclists.

speaking of which, a couple days ago i was returning to my abode from lincoln park and i was crossing north and damen, going south past that outdoor grill place with lots of people sitting outside and a super zz top bearded guy was just getting on his motorcycle in front of the place. Obviously, trying to show off to all the diners, he did some spin on his bike, but then lost control and went flying across damen mostly on one wheel, eventually landing under his bike. luckily, i was enough out of the way to avoid the display. he pulled himself and his bike up and then said "fuck" under his breath as i passed by. I kept pedaling towards home, and began to think that this might be some warning not to get a motorcycle and was about to dismiss the idea when i passed his comrade who was waiting on his own motorcycle just out of the way of the bike lane. as i passed the comrade, i looked at him and his face was completely distorted by scars.

then i thought, hmm, well, i'm not going to be one of those motorcyclists (meaning flashy stupid ones who are trying to prove something). nor will i really ride it much in the city anyway. then i got macdonald's french fries and met my friends in humboldt park for a late night picnic. ahh....

i'll leave you with a gorgeous poem i read a few days ago:

Bishnu Dey

---

ASPIRATION

Wipe out the sky tonight,
Smear darkness on the stars,
Blot out the moon in the slough of sleeplessness.
Cover your eyes and come
Through the web of the wind,

Drown the noise
Of the strides of the night-veiled sea
To take my breath away
At each your soundless footfall.
In the quiet-quelled night
Let us meet mouth to mouth
Upon the summit of sleeplessness.
Shatter your world, scatter it in the sky,

And come to me in the dark.

.fresh.

lichen climbing envy flowered pants

quote:
There are no facts, only interpretations. Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche

i have nothing to say
really, there is nothing at all to say.
everything that needs to be said, that had to be said
has already been said.
all the great thoughts, all the terrible thoughts
all the in-between ones too.

all said.

except, with all of those words said,
all the different ideas expressed in poetry,
speeches, whale calls, books, songs, art,
choir arrangements, the evening news,
sky-writing, refrigerator poetry, alarm clocks,
barking dogs, beeping trucks, penguins' penguin noises,
ticker tapes, billboards, the internet, encyclopedias
libraries, legal documents, gestures
-- with all of that said, we still have
these injustices, these terrible atrocities, inequalities,
waiting for words, communication, ideas to finally overpower them.

living inside paradox

quote:

"Do I contradict myself? Very well then, I contradict myself. (I am large, I contain multitudes)"
Walt Whitman

To me, paradox
has always been
comforting. When two
large forces clash
and destroy each
other, the volume
of being lonely,
there is always
a precious moment
created,
in their wake,
of nothingness - of
no expectation, of
pure somethingness.

When the weather warms, smiles grow, footsteps on pavement accelerate, the concentration of people outside grows dramatically, more chatter is heard - birds being a morning culprit, clothes are shed, lights stay on a little bit longer, the sun arrives earlier, and kicks around a bit later as well. The poet sits at the table, in the early morning, before the city wakes, looking out the window and imagines all the windows light travels through at this moment; it weightlessly touches, illuminates, faces, toes, through curtains, gently waking thoughts and dreams.


psst.
Hitler used expletives. And probably ate finger sandwiches.

fujitiveberg iconclasticc hodgepodge

the last words of oscar wilde:

My wallpaper and I are fighting a duel to the death. One or the other of us has to go.

Note: Wilde said this in the Left Bank hotel in Paris where he passed away on November 30, 1900. The wallpaper has also since gone and the room re-furnished in the style of one of Wilde's London flats.It's been nearly a month since lighting up this page with some new characters. I apologize, for those who are avid readers of this, and rest gingerly on every word printed (of which, there are none, I am sure). I speak to a cross-section of my audience that is yet non-existent. The warming of the weather has diminished my mental capacity much like global warming has steamed the snow caps off mountains in south america.

Easy story for the day: About three weeks ago, the lock to my bicycle lost its function of opening, in what seemed a permanent protest. My bike was chained to a pole in front of a rather swank department store in Lincoln Park (the type that plays clubbing music at 2 PM in the afternoon, looks very European, and has employees that don't seem to do anything but look imposingly hip.) And there was my sticker-clad bicycle, imprisoned by the retired lock, directly in front of the king-sized, glass paneled front doors to club-land. Resolution: I walked to home depot, purchased the largest bolt cutter available for 50 dollars, and stole my bicycle. While I was in the act of stealing, a teacher I happen to know walked by and pretended not to know me. I tried to explain by shouting out something about the broken lock and lofting these giant red bolt cutters in the air, but it was to no avail. I rescued my bike, returned the bolt cutters, and a few days later, at school, I explained to the teacher precisely what had happened. (all is well, friends.)

Fresjitoes

furtive bunny rabbits

quote:
How full of trifles everything is! It is only one’s thoughts that fill a room with something more than furniture. - Wallace Stevens


This is president Thaksin. He was the president of Thailand for a long, long time, considering the fact that Thailand has had more coups than any other country in the last 20 years. Then, when I was there about a year ago, he was deposed in a bloodless military coup. Then he left the country for a while. Now he is coming back as an exile and the new government wants to try him for stealing money from the government. However, most interesting, in my opinion, is this picture (taken from npr.org), in which there are a WHOLE LOT of furtive looks from women behind Thaksin. What is going on? Is this a political photo or a model shoot? sasafras lasagna! I wish I could move Mr. Thaksin out of the way.

a life, in words.

"This is the last of Earth! I am content."

• Who: John Quincy Adams, US President, February 21, 1848.

a few weeks ago, the idea of a 6 word story about your life was released on npr - . it's a concept that's spread all over the place. i wrote a few. this one is my favorite:

snowflake, beautiful, original; sunlight, strong, piercing

send me your favorite!

igloos, boats and giraffes

quote:
I thought Deep Throat was a movie about a giraffe. - Bob Hope

a friend, senorita sketchy, asked me yesterday if i thought the female body part most prominently displayed in pornographic films was "made-up." i replied that i thought the skin would be too sensitive for such a treatment. but, nevertheless, it makes me wonder, would you should the same stuff you use on your face for such an area? would someone who pays attention to detail begin doing that before going on a date? would that make-up stay? is this a whole new area of cosmetics that has yet to be tapped? are we onto something?

then i wonder, how would such cosmetics be packaged when the packaging of so many cosmetics and parfums is already sexual? would it be plain to hide its intent? who would sell it? could you get a makeover in much the same way as you do now? so many questions.

conclusion: i hope for more authentic this year, less cyber, more tangible, less possibility, more reality, less made-up, more made.

under the snow, a great tiger emerges

Happy Chinese New Year!!

quote: "yeah, you know what this is..."

lemon-scented lint

Do not, as some ungracious pastors do,
Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven,
Whiles, like a puff'd and reckless libertine,
Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads.
And recks not his own rede.

• Ophelia, scene iii

I think, and I mean this for all the women that somehow relate to Ophelia in one way or another, that Ophelia really needs a hug in Scene 3.

And, I wish that I could also know which scenes I might receive hugs so that I could write in a few more.

Fresh.

pommes frites carnivale

O light! This is the cry of all the characters of ancient drama brought face to face with their fate. This last resort was ours, too, and I knew it now. In the middle of winter I at last discovered that there was in me an invincible summer. - Albert Camus

It's perhaps the perfect middle winter quote. And it's been thrown around quite a bit, but most often without the first few lines. It's worth some meditation while looking out the window at the shelves of ice floating in Lake Michigan - cracked angular pasty smiling winter.

story: off i went to find the depaul choir, which i joined last night. i wrapped myself tightly in warm clothes and mounted my bicycle, still froze my feet on the way there, and eventually wound up in lincoln park, at a kinkos - the directions didn't work. the kinkos guy told me to go somewhere that was wrong. i ended up at a dominicks, and i was so shy i didn't want to ask anyone where it was. so i walked into the fruit section, where fruit was being misted ever so gently, and i pretended to shop for fruit while i tried to build up courage to ask someone where the depaul music building was. there were too many people to ask. this was one problem - lots of young people that must have been depaul students... i was stuck. and i didn't want to be awkward. i didn't want to select someone and have them wonder why i selected them. "is he trying to pick me up? why did this random disheveled biking guy choose me? what is he doing in dominicks?" finally, i saw a woman with a viola case on her back and i thought this must be the person. so, i finally found the courage and asked her and she told me that was where she was going next. so, she finished buying fruit, i bought nothing and we strolled together to the music building.

under-nourished rock formations

Accepting the absurdity of everything around us is one step, a necessary experience: it should not become a dead end. It arouses a revolt that can become fruitful. - Albert Camus

Noise. hachacha. bing! floppo. wawawawingman

all fun words to say. i suggest you whisper them to yourself now. it's a tiny medicine. formulated by your tongue and lips. free of charge.

by the way, bing!, as it turns out, and only when you say it in the excited way, as if simulating the noise of a bell, happens to be the chinese word for "ice." another brilliant decision by the chinese.

how can we possibly compete in such a demanding global market?

pocahontas was brave.

nuff said.

arctic sandwich yuppies

quote:
"how you feeling brother?" - the hulk

snow disappears while the sun embraces chicago. and leaves fog. fog the color of teeth. teeth hovering just above the landscape. enough to cause a couple hundred cancellations at o'hare.

breaking record high temperatures by decent margins doesn't exactly excite me anymore... it's kind of another worried thing. the weather guy today tried to make it really exciting that it was so warm and as he smiled his big weather man fog teeth smiled, i sunk further into the couch, held my sandwich a bit tighter before i ate it.

living here is living in the land of stress. i've noticed that everyone around me is more stressed by a longshot than all the other places i lived in the last year. and americans take out their stress on others, quite often. when we are rude to each other, short-tempered, passive aggressive, angry drivers, impatient foot tappers... we all have this stronger veil of "you have to do this NOW" hanging over us, and unfortunately we haven't turned around to look at the veil lately and tell it to bugger off.

take the elections for example. we have the longest run for a leader of our country than any other country by a decent margin. and you can see how hard it is if you watch the debates. the candidates, when not speaking, are propping their heads on their fists. when we ever do end up with a new president, they'll have to sleep the first year of his / her presidency.

may you get some sleep.
fresh