The Rhythm You Started

We talking bout babies! Okay not really. But since I've been gone there are a few children about to enter this world soon. When people say "Why would you bring a child into this world?!" it's rhetorical right? Do people actually try to answer that, like in a serious manner? I'm pretty sure it's just used in movies to create dramatic tension and enhance mood lighting.

I had this whole half-post on the way about relationships and values but that was two weeks ago and I've lost interest. So instead here's this website, Baggage Reclaim, which is interesting in a variety of ways -- both humorous and frightening. Most of all, the site owner has written a book called Mr. Unavailable and the Fallback Girl, which just makes me angry because it's a book I should have penned. I mean, the Fallback Girl is just a variation of the Meantime Girl and I was on that shits ten years ago. Mainly I'm impressed that something that seems like it could be covered in a few blog posts can be turned into a feature length book. I guess there's just a lot to say about Mr. Unavailables!

Also I'm wondering if there are sites like this for guys, where people go to seek advice about women. I kind of feel like there aren't, unless it's about how to catch one -- or more. Do guys care about what's going on in a relationship once they're in? I mean, would they religiously follow a blog about that and seek advice? I best do some Google searching.

I went to Indiana for about a week, and since leaving and getting back, there's been news of three babies, one proposal, a super long lost friend found me, and well, I guess that's the happenings. I'm pretty much ready for April to be over so May will arrive in tremendous fashion. There's so many new and exciting things planned for this month. So many!

Okay, that last part was a lie. But you knew that.

The town I visited was near South Bend and on a free night, I thought I'd better go check out Notre Dame. When I was young, that was the school I wanted to go to. For no reason other than their moniker, the Fighting Irish, seemed to me like a logical extension of my love for the Celtics. Both teams had Leprechauny mascots, a storied tradition of success, and books about their histories available at the library. As a kid I imagined getting my education under Notre Dame's Golden Dome and helping Knute Rockne's football team paint their golden helmets before each game -- the paint has real gold in it.

On Wednesday, I went to go check out a Turkish film, Once Upon a Time in Anatolia, at the performing arts center. I drove by the stadium, swung by The Main Building with the famous dome, and decided that really, any large university is about the same. If there's a big football presence and a few streets dominated by pizza joints and cheap eateries, you're on a college campus.

Every school has it's UGLi, it's Angell Hall, it's Brown Jug. The settings are basically the same, and maybe even the stories?

Mean to Seem Like

Now for an all music edition. First off, this semi-old article about Pitchfork from n+1 is an interesting read. And then this "American Mozart" piece about Kanye (and Jay Z). I didn't love it exactly, and was wondering who the author was, but after Googling around, it seems like David Samuels is a very respected long form journalist. Still, something about the tone of the piece just didn't sit well with me. All this was started off from Michael sending me a piece about knowing the stuff that nobody else does -- and how that aesthetic is declining.

I bet you've seen these 33 1/3 mini-books around. Each one focuses on one album by an artist. Truthfully, I've only read two of them -- the Tribe and Nas ones -- but I love the concept. I was trying to figure out which album I'd want to write about. I wish I had the sort of relationship to music that I could write about it well. I really enjoy reading about music -- and envy all good music writers -- but rarely have cohesive thoughts about the impact, meaning, and general feeling I get from them. I think it has a lot to do with my inability to listen/process lyrics. It's tough to even write about individual tracks, as I'm learning from my postings over at T.E.S.T. My music vocabulary consists of "it's good, I like it."

On the real, I think I'd do my 33 1/3 on Jagged Little Pill.

A few months ago Lilly told me about a game she and Jessica play. "Who would your hype person be?" Like the musician (usually a rapper) that would trail you around and just do things to make your life better. So far Lilly's answer is DMX and Jessica chooses Mystikal. Strong choices both. I've been trying to figure mine out for awhile.

I feel like Lil'Jon is a strong contender, but I'd want to go with Missy Elliot maybe. Or Ja Rule. Or Nelly. See how this game is hard? Actually I'd really like to see what Left Eye could do in a hypester role. I guess we'll just never know. ODB is a strong choice too but he's really Mariah's hype man so we should leave him be. Worst choice: Master P. Obviously.

Let's talk about how I'm six months behind on "Ni**as in Paris." Okay, let's not.

My friend Mels and I have gotten into the habit of going out every couple of weeks. Originally we met online through a writing group but now our friendship has transitioned to non-writerly things. Neither of us go out much but we keep each other young by testing out the San Diego dance scene once in awhile. I'll get a text from her at ten or eleven and whoosh, I'm off!

Afterwards, since everything closes so damn early, we'll sit around in the car and listen to my old R&B CDs, talking about what each track reminds us of. (The ones she associates with exes get the fast skip.)

It's kind of the best.

This past weekend, we both semi-sheepishly admitted, "Hey, I'm like finally getting around to Watch the Throne." We were hoping they'd play "Otis" and "Ni**as in Paris." When it happened back-to-back, we were ecstatic.

Back Issues

The task this week is to clean out our garage. It's not as daunting a task as The Infinite Garage, but it sure feels enormous. What I didn't realize was that a lot of the big boxes are mine, dragged out from underneath each other, untouched since I'd left New York in 2001. At the time, I didn't do any of the outgoing packing -- my roommate and friends were kind enough to throw everything into boxes and ship them out to me -- so opening each one up has been an adventure.

One giant cardboard slab was filled with VHS tapes. Relieved to see a lot of old cultural show videos in there, I was still appalled at how many useless movies I thought I'd needed. I think I'm going to hang onto the My So Called Life set because I paid a mint for those but The Three Musketeers starring Chris O'Donnell can be safely given away. And my home taped version of Yanni Live at the Acropolis. That will be heading to Goodwill also.

So much crap.

Nowadays my collection of trinkets and tchotkes is pretty small, filling just a small bookshelf, but unpacking those boxes revealed a past addiction to just collecting any interesting or semi-precious thing I could get my hands on. All of it will have to go, of course, but I'm thinking I'd better document everything just for posterity. What will not be leaving me is my comic books and RPG manuals. The latter will actually be handy for my current writing project, and I was actually just looking for them a few weeks ago.

My mom's goal is to clear out the garage and then digitize all the photo albums. As always, there's a lot of good stuff in there. For example, this wonderful remnant of my acting past, where I was Woodstock in a highly acclaimed Christian Youth Center version of You're A Good Man, Charlie Brown. When you need to cast for a bird nobody can understand, I'm your immigrant boy.

Okay, the writing workshop I was trying to get into this summer rejected me so now my June through August is up in the air. What to do, what to do. I have to stick around San Diego through May for a few events here and there but then everything else is wide open. In theory I should go jaunting off again, at least to New York, but we'll see if I can work that out. Summer in the city is obviously ideal but then what? I'm not yet feeling restless but life boredom is definitely coming right around the corner.

Actually I'm a little afraid of what happens if it doesn't come, what then?

Jobs my friends think I could hold: Seating chart maker. Gummy bear taste tester. Guy who fires people. Casting director for female fashion show. Professional muse. Self made popular guy. MC of Comic-Con. Towel boy for Celtics. Model man purses. Traveling blogger. E! channel interviewer. Celebrity judge. Professional plus one to weddings. Online dating ghostwriter. Sandwich maker.

Compiled from a list that they sent me. Currently I do none of these things. I don't even make sandwiches.

Zou Bisou Bisou

Well that was quick. George's visit to San Diego spanned six days but felt much shorter. We didn't even do anything! Usually her trips home are filled with lots of down time -- almost too much if you ask everyone -- but between her and AMR's flight coming in six hours late and various daytime activities, we ran out of time even for burritos. Actually she probably did a lot, as she shopped, had brunches, and we at least got our Hunger Games on. I was sleeping through most of the rest of it.

On Wednesday we took my mom to dinner for her birthday and afterwards presented her with an iPad. Her struggles with a computer has been well complained about by me so in theory an iPad should be the answer. When she unwrapped the box, her yelp of joy was something George and I had never heard before. At least as far back as I can remember. Apparently all the cool Chinese parents now have iPads, and now my mom can join the club.

I'm curious how long it'll take for her to acclimate to it, a grand experiment if you will. Right off the bat, I noticed that the difference between a child and a parent playing with an iPad is that the kid will learn just by attacking every button and thrusting their finger at anything onscreen. My mom was much more cautious and acted like she was afraid to mess something up. I assured her that by playing around with it and making mistakes, she would learn faster.

In time my mom will be able to use her iPad to showcase pictures of her flower arrangements, text/email with ease, and perhaps hop onto Skype to talk to her family in Taiwan. Plus she'll always be able to say, "My kids got me an iPad!" which will greatly enhance both her -- and our -- reputation.

Over the past week, I also learned that one of my close friends is pregnant and another is now in a capital "R" relationship. While this kind of stuff is hardly surprising news anymore, a little part of me dies each time. I know, that's probably not the right response. But there are a few surefire ways friendships will change into something unrecognizable: significant others and children. I think when everyone was younger, we sometimes pretended to each other that it would be "just like it's always been." Now nobody says that. The first thirty minutes of Friends With Kids hilariously spells this out.

Yes, I've heard rumors of friendships that stay the same when the kids come around but I've yet to witness this mythological beast. Or perhaps I just don't give these couplings a chance. I usually exit stage right. Maybe it's an issue of scheduling versus non-scheduling. When you're a parent, there's no time for dawdling around. Plans with other people have a finite beginning and end. I don't do well under this construction. Also, what do I possibly offer in a parent-child friendship? I'm not even a good babysitter.

Another of my best friends had her first kid a year ago. We've barely talked since. And I haven't seen her (or him). But likely we just both understand. I'm not _____ enough to handle children and she's got a new life to live. I'll just find out the important stuff via Facebook and try to make it out to say hello before the baby goes off to college.

The other night I was over at Henry's house helping him install some new doors. Our de facto hang out pad will soon become a nursery. The transformation is a big aesthetic upgrade as closets, windproof windows, enhanced furniture, and bright new paint has already been shuffled in. A spare bedroom now contains a crib and some baby toys. When I saw those, I was like "Okay, this is really happening." I'll be taking photos to document the transformation.

Also, Henry will be walking the daddy path on about the same timeline as Ben Baller, and today Ben had a post about his impending fatherhood, quality in its own very special Ben Baller way.

Glorious Mad Men is back and the two hour season premiere was incredible. Plus I could not be more excited for HBO's Girls by Lena Dunham, who wrote/directed/starred in Tiny Furniture, which I haven't seen yet but highly suspect is right up my alley. I wonder when the world will be ready for my male-centric version of Sex and the City. Well first I have to create it I guess.