The title encapsulates it all.
I arrived at the older boys' program only to have it confirmed that I was just a regular staff and really wasn't doing anything too special. Then I found out that the meeting I was set to have with their program director wouldn't happen cause he called out for tomorrow.
For most of the day that was fine though, since we only had three boys. I figured I could save my dread for the next day, when I would return, but only with a full house and more chances for firecrackers. I got to watch football uninterrupted and read New York Times articles I printed. There was a point I was in the house alone just watching football.
Lo and behold, at dinner time, I actually start to do my job. And a mild mannered Muslim, who happens to be Caucasian and loves Magic cards and collecting currency, started flipping out cause he couldn't get an extra piece of chicken. He actually called me "boy" and then as he flipped out more, clubbed me in the right cheek. Then when I tried to hold him, he grabbed my shirt and told he wasn't letting go cause I was touching him and yelling. Of course I had stopped speaking and had my hands up which should be indicative of this kid's mental illness. He finally let go and I closed the door on him in the solution room. Of course he wished for my death and threatened to press charges, over what, I don't know. Luckily he was a blubbering mess when he came out.
But my face still stung. And my elbow was even worse since I banged it on a wall in the ensuing struggle. And I can't even type this now without grimacing. To add salt to my wounds, the Mets completed one of the worst chokes in all of sports history today by not even making the playoffs after leading their division since May. They blew a 7 game lead in little over two weeks.
And I have to go back to those guys tomorrow. And I'm not going to a Mets playoff game this week. Common better have the sickest show this Friday and please believe there will be a plethora of libations imbibed.
Update - Monday, October 1st, 2007, 11:26 a.m.
The mirror told me my right cheek was swollen. I hate the mirror.
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Friday, September 28, 2007
Better Work
Today I did some more training for my new part time gig. And I felt good. A large part was my state of appearance.
Something about looking good adds a bit of a boost to one's self esteem. As I walked the streets, even a shoe shine artisan noted, "Perfectly fine." I was wearing new shoes as well.
And all that boosting made me feel totally confident in that training, even though I had nothing to really do. I just felt like I belonged. I even think one of the agency attorneys might have been feeling me. I hate to sound cheesy, but its pretty cool hanging with the big boys and girls. I think I've been ready for it, but just didn't want to do it. Now I'm itching.
A Burberry tie proves to be the spur to depart Neverland.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Ego Stroked But Now There's Chafing
Today, I was very prepared at work. I knew the therapy group I was headed to and even made sure I checked in with the group leaders about the transition plan. Of course I took my one boy to the scheduled room and no one informed me they changed it. So when I brought him in about 20 minutes late, I thought when my program director wanted to check in with me, I might have been in some slight trouble.
Lo and behold, he was actually telling me about how the program with the oldest boys is a mess. Wolf Fighter, who was given the supervisor spot over there, had allegedly been in their program director's office in tears and feeling overwhelmed. And in the ensuing tete-a-tete between these program directors, they decided to ship me out to that program for a month.
Of course, I could hardly contain the smile in my heart. He basically told me that I was well regarded enough to go quell some fire on the opposite side of campus. Little old me was going into the trenches to reset the order.
But then wait. If I'm going back to my original set of boys, won't a month of absence damage my authority with them? How many routines and incidents could occur that I wouldn't be aware of? How would I get my requisite play time since the older boys love Magic, video games, and computers? And if they're shipping me around like some mercenary to help brring about piece, will I have some authority to actually change things instead of just being an actual strong staff?
It started to bug me as I thought about it. It's like I'm a piece of meat. And Mira, fresh from her reshuffling, commisserated with me as well. But an e-mail will go out to those same program directors tomorrow and hopefully clarity will reign again.
It still sucks though
Update - Thursday, September 27, 2007, 2:26 p.m.
So I sent my well crafted e-mail this morning. First I thanked them for thinking of me, then I went into the original problems I had viewed in my earlier visits to the program when they had no one to do their meds, and then I asked for clarity. I got a reply from their program director to call him. Now I'm thinking that maybe I was too big for my britches and came off as arrogant.
It doesn't help that the guy speaks in a monotone and that upset sounds just like excited. As soon as we get past the pleasantries, he's saying he was "out of his chair." In anger? In joy? Luckily it was the latter. So now I'm feeling joyful again cause he promised to meet with me on Monday after he boosted me up by bigging up my character. "It's like you read my notebook"
I still don't like it, but I'm somewhat excited about the opportunity.
Update - Friday, September 28, 2007, 8:58 p.m.
Yeah so my program director, who also received the e-mail, replied to it today. He also gave me compliments on character, but he also said I would split my week between my program and theirs. So now I'm thinking I'm just a staff. No authority. I am not a happy camper. He squashed whatever optimism I have. I now go plan to eat a lovely meal and forget that this is happening.
Lo and behold, he was actually telling me about how the program with the oldest boys is a mess. Wolf Fighter, who was given the supervisor spot over there, had allegedly been in their program director's office in tears and feeling overwhelmed. And in the ensuing tete-a-tete between these program directors, they decided to ship me out to that program for a month.
Of course, I could hardly contain the smile in my heart. He basically told me that I was well regarded enough to go quell some fire on the opposite side of campus. Little old me was going into the trenches to reset the order.
But then wait. If I'm going back to my original set of boys, won't a month of absence damage my authority with them? How many routines and incidents could occur that I wouldn't be aware of? How would I get my requisite play time since the older boys love Magic, video games, and computers? And if they're shipping me around like some mercenary to help brring about piece, will I have some authority to actually change things instead of just being an actual strong staff?
It started to bug me as I thought about it. It's like I'm a piece of meat. And Mira, fresh from her reshuffling, commisserated with me as well. But an e-mail will go out to those same program directors tomorrow and hopefully clarity will reign again.
It still sucks though
Update - Thursday, September 27, 2007, 2:26 p.m.
So I sent my well crafted e-mail this morning. First I thanked them for thinking of me, then I went into the original problems I had viewed in my earlier visits to the program when they had no one to do their meds, and then I asked for clarity. I got a reply from their program director to call him. Now I'm thinking that maybe I was too big for my britches and came off as arrogant.
It doesn't help that the guy speaks in a monotone and that upset sounds just like excited. As soon as we get past the pleasantries, he's saying he was "out of his chair." In anger? In joy? Luckily it was the latter. So now I'm feeling joyful again cause he promised to meet with me on Monday after he boosted me up by bigging up my character. "It's like you read my notebook"
I still don't like it, but I'm somewhat excited about the opportunity.
Update - Friday, September 28, 2007, 8:58 p.m.
Yeah so my program director, who also received the e-mail, replied to it today. He also gave me compliments on character, but he also said I would split my week between my program and theirs. So now I'm thinking I'm just a staff. No authority. I am not a happy camper. He squashed whatever optimism I have. I now go plan to eat a lovely meal and forget that this is happening.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Chalupa
Today, after an extended battle between two aging bureaucracies, which are both responding hastily and often illogically to outside prescriptions, we lost Chalupa. Chalupa is a seven year old cognitively limited boy we had on our campus for two years. During his time there, he gained campus wide recognition. The kid was cute. The face was totally innocent. Whatever horrendous or disturbing behaviors he exhibited, you could never hold it against him. None of it was his fault.
When he originally came, they didn't know if he spoke Spanish or English. His mom was homeless and voluntarily gave he and his sister up to Social Services. She never reclaimed them. We have no idea where the sister might be. But I hope she didn't suffer the same plight as Chalupa. It's obvious he was sexually and physically abused in addition to the obvious neglect. He seems the size of 5 year olds and acts even younger than that. Accidents are the norm and at least one chase through the house a day. He could get into your nerves at time.
But he had a consistency of joy that could always win you over. It never really dissipated. Even after he was crying for a while, within seconds he was smiling. Even time he swore it broke your heart. Each action against you made your blood boil not because of how sad the behavior was, but just the mere fact that this small child was the perpetrator.
Now he's gone/ He had actually been making some serious strides i the recent months. More individualized attention lead to better verbal expression. He actually participated in activities for longer than 15 minute clips. He had stopped being the shift nuisance that was his biggest negative. But DSS is tired of our school, at least one office. They've moved most of the kids that we had in the past couple of months. And Chalupa is one of them. So he won't be going anywhere particularly better suited for him, like consistent individualized attention that we could never provide. It's basically the same deal. Just not us. That's a very sad thing. We started to be the only family he had. He actually started to make connections and build relationships. They all get stripped away because two agencies can't get along.
It's tragic. It's the system. But what's done is done. When Banana said her goodbyes on Monday, he came and hugged her and said "I'll miss you." He knew her yellow car and remembered the sign language she taught him. But no more constant requests for gum or silly dives into bed. The dancing to Gnarls Barkley "Crazy" never again to be viewed. Other boys' behaviors kept me away from him for most of the day, but I remembered to say my goodbyes just as he was about to fall asleep. I was about to leave when he asked me to tuck him in. And I wrapped him up like I used to.
I'm glad I'll remember him happy. I hope he stays that way.
When he originally came, they didn't know if he spoke Spanish or English. His mom was homeless and voluntarily gave he and his sister up to Social Services. She never reclaimed them. We have no idea where the sister might be. But I hope she didn't suffer the same plight as Chalupa. It's obvious he was sexually and physically abused in addition to the obvious neglect. He seems the size of 5 year olds and acts even younger than that. Accidents are the norm and at least one chase through the house a day. He could get into your nerves at time.
But he had a consistency of joy that could always win you over. It never really dissipated. Even after he was crying for a while, within seconds he was smiling. Even time he swore it broke your heart. Each action against you made your blood boil not because of how sad the behavior was, but just the mere fact that this small child was the perpetrator.
Now he's gone/ He had actually been making some serious strides i the recent months. More individualized attention lead to better verbal expression. He actually participated in activities for longer than 15 minute clips. He had stopped being the shift nuisance that was his biggest negative. But DSS is tired of our school, at least one office. They've moved most of the kids that we had in the past couple of months. And Chalupa is one of them. So he won't be going anywhere particularly better suited for him, like consistent individualized attention that we could never provide. It's basically the same deal. Just not us. That's a very sad thing. We started to be the only family he had. He actually started to make connections and build relationships. They all get stripped away because two agencies can't get along.
It's tragic. It's the system. But what's done is done. When Banana said her goodbyes on Monday, he came and hugged her and said "I'll miss you." He knew her yellow car and remembered the sign language she taught him. But no more constant requests for gum or silly dives into bed. The dancing to Gnarls Barkley "Crazy" never again to be viewed. Other boys' behaviors kept me away from him for most of the day, but I remembered to say my goodbyes just as he was about to fall asleep. I was about to leave when he asked me to tuck him in. And I wrapped him up like I used to.
I'm glad I'll remember him happy. I hope he stays that way.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Found A Spot
Romanticizing the barbershop is something I'm quite fond of. In my childhood, I think I made it the place where I interacted with "real" people. I think I was just jealous of all the ghetto latchkey children who came and went as they pleased. And I kind of admired all the teens and older kids in flashy fake gold with elaborate handshakes to match their precisely cut Gumbys and fades.
But I always felt like an outsider. In adulthood, I still have searched for that mix of camaraderie, familiarity, and just straight comfort. The closest I got was when I had dreads. I saw the same stylist for the duration of their existence, and we developed quite the rapport. Even followed him to his new digs and paid for a $25 cut and shave just cause of the familiarity factor. But I realized it wasn't smart to keep paying and my sojourns have taken me back to those places where I enjoyed it, but still an outsider.
I think the search is over though. I went to this place a couple months ago because my usual spot had a longer line than I would have liked. But the barbers there are mostly West Indian and hearing their patois, sometimes decipherable, makes me feel quite comfortable. And today when I walked in after someone, my usual barber actually said I was next. They're comfortable enough to watch "Ellen" and British comedy on the flatscreen as well. Most importantly, the cuts are precise and he doesn't ask if I want a razor for my shaves. He just does it. The fact that I can laugh along with their conversation, even as they diss potential customers under the disguise of their funny foriegn colloquialisms just adds to the allure.
It's nice to have a home.
But I always felt like an outsider. In adulthood, I still have searched for that mix of camaraderie, familiarity, and just straight comfort. The closest I got was when I had dreads. I saw the same stylist for the duration of their existence, and we developed quite the rapport. Even followed him to his new digs and paid for a $25 cut and shave just cause of the familiarity factor. But I realized it wasn't smart to keep paying and my sojourns have taken me back to those places where I enjoyed it, but still an outsider.
I think the search is over though. I went to this place a couple months ago because my usual spot had a longer line than I would have liked. But the barbers there are mostly West Indian and hearing their patois, sometimes decipherable, makes me feel quite comfortable. And today when I walked in after someone, my usual barber actually said I was next. They're comfortable enough to watch "Ellen" and British comedy on the flatscreen as well. Most importantly, the cuts are precise and he doesn't ask if I want a razor for my shaves. He just does it. The fact that I can laugh along with their conversation, even as they diss potential customers under the disguise of their funny foriegn colloquialisms just adds to the allure.
It's nice to have a home.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
The Morning After
The first jolt I got was when I reached for my cell phone so that I could shut off the alarm. There was soreness in my hand. Then I felt it in my tricep. I really couldn't fathom why I was in pain. There was a point where the shower water worked doubly. As it scalded, it also soothed pains I was yet to have. It slowly came back to me that yesterday I had a mini-sumo match with one of my clients and he landed a slight jab to my left cheek. He's also 270 lbs. Doodlebug tells me thats 140 kilos or something.
Yes. Wow indeed.
After these stressful incidents, which included spitting on me and trying to emasculate me through kicking, my brain just put them away, which is pretty typical of people in my field. If these incidents don't get filed away appropriately, it's bad for everyone. Yeah I was pissed off. Maybe a bit embarrassed. But the kid is mentally ill. And there is still paperwork to be done and garbage to dispose of. And in one hour you will be home in your bed. Just move on.
But then mornings after like these, you wonder why you do it. Why this type of beating? Why not hit books, sell out, and cash in? Get that prestige that Dad craves so much? As I put the lotion on my hands just minutes ago, the exercise was just a syllabus in learning exactly where things hurt the most. And what hurts now will only be exacerbated and added on to if my scheduled date with ultimate frisbee comes to fruition.
There's some grander purpose to this I think. I can honestly say that I am a bit lazy but I enjoy what I do. I am getting tired of it. Sometimes I find myself not giving it my total devotion and that disappoints me. But still the pros drastically outweigh the cons. And I do love to play.
Yes. Wow indeed.
After these stressful incidents, which included spitting on me and trying to emasculate me through kicking, my brain just put them away, which is pretty typical of people in my field. If these incidents don't get filed away appropriately, it's bad for everyone. Yeah I was pissed off. Maybe a bit embarrassed. But the kid is mentally ill. And there is still paperwork to be done and garbage to dispose of. And in one hour you will be home in your bed. Just move on.
But then mornings after like these, you wonder why you do it. Why this type of beating? Why not hit books, sell out, and cash in? Get that prestige that Dad craves so much? As I put the lotion on my hands just minutes ago, the exercise was just a syllabus in learning exactly where things hurt the most. And what hurts now will only be exacerbated and added on to if my scheduled date with ultimate frisbee comes to fruition.
There's some grander purpose to this I think. I can honestly say that I am a bit lazy but I enjoy what I do. I am getting tired of it. Sometimes I find myself not giving it my total devotion and that disappoints me. But still the pros drastically outweigh the cons. And I do love to play.
Monday, September 17, 2007
It's Actually 10 Months
About 20 minutes ago, my post Sports Center siesta was broken up by my cell phone ring. Seeing that it was my good friend Testimony and knowing I wasn't that unconscious, I actually answered the call eschewing my recent no-morning phone call rule. We had talked extensively at work yesterday as I updated her on the changes to the whole organization. I thought maybe she had a follow up question of some sort.
Instead, she greeted me as Uncle Adam and proceeded to tell me that she is expecting. Already she is eight or nine weeks. Which is exactly around the time of her wedding, that I happened to pseudo-coordinate. In the midst of the success of "Knocked Up", has my generation taken the message to heart? Or am I just freaking out because I am getting to the age where people actually settle down and start having babies?
It seemed an anomaly to me when my former college roommate got married and had a child two years ago. When Principessa Bella had her son this year, almost a year to date from her marriage vows, it seemed like everyone in my age group was having babies. On my two trips to my aunt's church, I've been greeted with the sights of college friends who followed through with their sweethearts and have happy mini families or at least expecting them. And seeing my godsister's three babes was incredible when seven years ago, her wedding was the first time I felt like a grown-up.
Now Banana is becoming more open about her own pregnancy now that she is visibly showing. In October, she actually learns what sex the child will be. It just seems crazy to me that my peer circle is having children. These aren't family friends or random older children of church folk. People I had class with, sang in choir with, went to bars with, are reproducing! Have I really been denying that life has been going on around me this badly? Am I really this old? Should I be sad that I am in no position to have one now?
In a way I am sad. Or maybe disappointed. It would be nice to be settled and know that I was that secure in a relationship to actually bring life in this world. But lately I've come to realize that I am not that secure in myself so it is all for the best. Eventually I hope to ohave my own, but for now I'll practice honing my eye for baby clothes.
----------------
Now playing: Black Star - Astronomy (8th Light)
Instead, she greeted me as Uncle Adam and proceeded to tell me that she is expecting. Already she is eight or nine weeks. Which is exactly around the time of her wedding, that I happened to pseudo-coordinate. In the midst of the success of "Knocked Up", has my generation taken the message to heart? Or am I just freaking out because I am getting to the age where people actually settle down and start having babies?
It seemed an anomaly to me when my former college roommate got married and had a child two years ago. When Principessa Bella had her son this year, almost a year to date from her marriage vows, it seemed like everyone in my age group was having babies. On my two trips to my aunt's church, I've been greeted with the sights of college friends who followed through with their sweethearts and have happy mini families or at least expecting them. And seeing my godsister's three babes was incredible when seven years ago, her wedding was the first time I felt like a grown-up.
Now Banana is becoming more open about her own pregnancy now that she is visibly showing. In October, she actually learns what sex the child will be. It just seems crazy to me that my peer circle is having children. These aren't family friends or random older children of church folk. People I had class with, sang in choir with, went to bars with, are reproducing! Have I really been denying that life has been going on around me this badly? Am I really this old? Should I be sad that I am in no position to have one now?
In a way I am sad. Or maybe disappointed. It would be nice to be settled and know that I was that secure in a relationship to actually bring life in this world. But lately I've come to realize that I am not that secure in myself so it is all for the best. Eventually I hope to ohave my own, but for now I'll practice honing my eye for baby clothes.
----------------
Now playing: Black Star - Astronomy (8th Light)
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Encore
After a two hour conversation with Mira that largely revolved around work matters, I'm inspired to share more examples of goodness my boys exhibited today.
- The seven year old I mentioned before wanted to play Sorry! again with imaginative dice. He actually found me to play it. And earlier when he ran in to our meeting, he immediately stopped, looked around at all the adults with serious expressions and said "Smells like a meeting in here." He then proceeded to run to his room and dive on the bed. He also advised a client to go sleep in their room so he wouldn't be disrupting. That's our 7 year old mentally retarded resident.
- I did play an intense game of Ultimate Frisbee. It was probably the best organized sport activity during my tenure. It helps that it was four overgrown male staff getting ultra competitive and luckily the kids bought into it enough to avoid most issues. Mocha was showing off his grass stains as badges of honor.
And now I get to sleep till whenever and recover from such a festive week.
- The seven year old I mentioned before wanted to play Sorry! again with imaginative dice. He actually found me to play it. And earlier when he ran in to our meeting, he immediately stopped, looked around at all the adults with serious expressions and said "Smells like a meeting in here." He then proceeded to run to his room and dive on the bed. He also advised a client to go sleep in their room so he wouldn't be disrupting. That's our 7 year old mentally retarded resident.
- I did play an intense game of Ultimate Frisbee. It was probably the best organized sport activity during my tenure. It helps that it was four overgrown male staff getting ultra competitive and luckily the kids bought into it enough to avoid most issues. Mocha was showing off his grass stains as badges of honor.
And now I get to sleep till whenever and recover from such a festive week.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Lazy Morning
Mira made the comment about how great the potential was for the laziness of this morning, so I decided to act upon it. After I wrote an e-mail to a clinician about one of my boys, I sorted my laundry and then put in a load. After that burst of productivity, it was sheer slothyness (term borrowed from Friends of Mira. All Rights Reserved) from then on.
When I threw on the TV, I was disappointed to see that my usual dose of Sports Center was delayed for live action from the Women's World Cup. Now I can say that I love sports, even women's soccer, not exactly a popular choice amongst the heterosexual male. But I wanted football highlights and baseball. Women's World Cup can wait till the round of 16. Or at least if the Americans were on. Instead the matchups were Japan : England and Nigeria : Sweden. Yeah. But I got over myself and actually the soccer was pretty exciting at points. That British girl Katie Smith is a beast. I'd like to say it was th e training she got at the American university that is the cause.
My patience was rewarded with a 90-minute Sports Center featuring two of the network's more dry, random humorists. Is it wrong that I not only watch the show for the sports highlights but actually for the entertainment in it? Those guys are funny sometimes. Actually most of the time. And yeah I do have favorites. But it was just what the doctor ordered.
And now the music finally joins the proceedings and I immediately think of a new blog for my media site, because Ma$e was a star that burned out too quick. He was a much better version of Fabolous, before Fabolous. And I like Fabolous.
----------------
Now playing: Ma$e - Lookin' At Me (feat. Puff Daddy)
via FoxyTunes
When I threw on the TV, I was disappointed to see that my usual dose of Sports Center was delayed for live action from the Women's World Cup. Now I can say that I love sports, even women's soccer, not exactly a popular choice amongst the heterosexual male. But I wanted football highlights and baseball. Women's World Cup can wait till the round of 16. Or at least if the Americans were on. Instead the matchups were Japan : England and Nigeria : Sweden. Yeah. But I got over myself and actually the soccer was pretty exciting at points. That British girl Katie Smith is a beast. I'd like to say it was th e training she got at the American university that is the cause.
My patience was rewarded with a 90-minute Sports Center featuring two of the network's more dry, random humorists. Is it wrong that I not only watch the show for the sports highlights but actually for the entertainment in it? Those guys are funny sometimes. Actually most of the time. And yeah I do have favorites. But it was just what the doctor ordered.
And now the music finally joins the proceedings and I immediately think of a new blog for my media site, because Ma$e was a star that burned out too quick. He was a much better version of Fabolous, before Fabolous. And I like Fabolous.
----------------
Now playing: Ma$e - Lookin' At Me (feat. Puff Daddy)
via FoxyTunes
Monday, September 10, 2007
The Child Whisperer
Today there were three interactions with my boys that are indicative of why I go to work.
The first was as I picked up one boy from our version of after school detention. He was in a chipper mood because he had done his consequence without an issue and was leaving on time. When I came he was trying to meditate with his fingers crossed. As we were walking back, I took a look at his homework and commented on how well his penmanship has progressed. He graciously said thank you and he also just commented on how bad it used to be but that he kept working on it. And then to add the cherry on top, he complimented one of his peers on how good his handwriting had become. Seeing humanity in a child is sometimes the only thing that saves humanity.
That same peer he commented is the subject of my second interaction. This boy is 7 going on 8, but really he is more like 3 or 4 tops. He was having a very erratic day and eventually I had to take him away from everyone just so he could truly settle. When he came out of it, we didn't immediately rejoin the community but we played the game of Sorry he pulled out. Of course there were no dice and all the pieces were not there, but he still went about the task of setting up the board and telling me what colors I was assigned. We played for 30 minutes with imaginative dice. We cupped our hands, shook them, and let them roll out on the board, calling out the number that only we saw in our heads. And that lasted for 30 minutes. Amazing.
The final interaction is the most moving one for me. One of our boys is 14 and smart. He is close to leaving but he keeps making silly little decisions that set him back. This night, he had a blowout because we wouldn't print a specific picture of Jessica Alba for him to sketch. This is the same one who I bought artwork from. After he almost got his friend in trouble and we almost escalated into a jawing match, we had a talk. I knew the window hitting wasn't about that silly picture. It was about the boy who keeps getting in his grill at school. The girlfriend he feels betrayed him. The home life that is not only below his expectations, but now is uncertain. Sometimes dysfunction is valuable just because of the perverse stability it can offer. But now that divorce seems imminent, the uncertainty makes him even more crazy. And there was school and other things, but just see the flood come out. Just to hear the worries. It felt good to hear him just admit it to himself. I was probably extra sentimental cause I had recently had the same venting experience with my mom around the same time last week. It was nice to know that he felt comfortable enough to have the rare explosion of emotion with me. And it just speaks to why I do what I do. It's really all about those kids. I live to see that progression in all its forms.
The first was as I picked up one boy from our version of after school detention. He was in a chipper mood because he had done his consequence without an issue and was leaving on time. When I came he was trying to meditate with his fingers crossed. As we were walking back, I took a look at his homework and commented on how well his penmanship has progressed. He graciously said thank you and he also just commented on how bad it used to be but that he kept working on it. And then to add the cherry on top, he complimented one of his peers on how good his handwriting had become. Seeing humanity in a child is sometimes the only thing that saves humanity.
That same peer he commented is the subject of my second interaction. This boy is 7 going on 8, but really he is more like 3 or 4 tops. He was having a very erratic day and eventually I had to take him away from everyone just so he could truly settle. When he came out of it, we didn't immediately rejoin the community but we played the game of Sorry he pulled out. Of course there were no dice and all the pieces were not there, but he still went about the task of setting up the board and telling me what colors I was assigned. We played for 30 minutes with imaginative dice. We cupped our hands, shook them, and let them roll out on the board, calling out the number that only we saw in our heads. And that lasted for 30 minutes. Amazing.
The final interaction is the most moving one for me. One of our boys is 14 and smart. He is close to leaving but he keeps making silly little decisions that set him back. This night, he had a blowout because we wouldn't print a specific picture of Jessica Alba for him to sketch. This is the same one who I bought artwork from. After he almost got his friend in trouble and we almost escalated into a jawing match, we had a talk. I knew the window hitting wasn't about that silly picture. It was about the boy who keeps getting in his grill at school. The girlfriend he feels betrayed him. The home life that is not only below his expectations, but now is uncertain. Sometimes dysfunction is valuable just because of the perverse stability it can offer. But now that divorce seems imminent, the uncertainty makes him even more crazy. And there was school and other things, but just see the flood come out. Just to hear the worries. It felt good to hear him just admit it to himself. I was probably extra sentimental cause I had recently had the same venting experience with my mom around the same time last week. It was nice to know that he felt comfortable enough to have the rare explosion of emotion with me. And it just speaks to why I do what I do. It's really all about those kids. I live to see that progression in all its forms.
Friday, September 07, 2007
I Think I Like Chelsea
That would be the neighborhood in New York City, not some girl I magically came up with. Yesterday, it was where I was playing golf and found those shops that piqued my interest. Today, after I checked the test print of my grandfather's photo, I happened to meander the 20 blocks away and found myself there again. Its filled with the young, eccentric, and sometimes affluent that I would like to think are the closest kindred spirits I have.
And there is where television personalities feel comfortable enough to be normal people. In July, I found myself in line behind Mo Rocca, former Daily Show correspondent and now pop culture guy. Today in Starbucks I was lucky enough to give a compliment to Kelly Coffield, whose primary claim to fame was the lone white woman on In Living Color during the hey day of Jim Carrey and Damon Wayans.
The streets are relatively clean. There's a nice mix of mainstream and eccentric shopping. The people range from early 20s to middle age, but the common thread is that they all seem to be fresh, young and current, no matter the age. It seems like the closest one can get to an environmental fountain of youth. Now the trick is getting to the place where I can afford $2,000 in rent for a tiny 1 bedroom. Such is life
And there is where television personalities feel comfortable enough to be normal people. In July, I found myself in line behind Mo Rocca, former Daily Show correspondent and now pop culture guy. Today in Starbucks I was lucky enough to give a compliment to Kelly Coffield, whose primary claim to fame was the lone white woman on In Living Color during the hey day of Jim Carrey and Damon Wayans.
The streets are relatively clean. There's a nice mix of mainstream and eccentric shopping. The people range from early 20s to middle age, but the common thread is that they all seem to be fresh, young and current, no matter the age. It seems like the closest one can get to an environmental fountain of youth. Now the trick is getting to the place where I can afford $2,000 in rent for a tiny 1 bedroom. Such is life
Thursday, September 06, 2007
Inertia
From the physcis course I took, I believe the idea of inertia is that pretty much everything is going to stay in the state its in unless an outside force does something to it. If you're moving one way, you'll keep going that way until something stops you or alters your course. And if you're not moving then you'll be as immobile as a rock, unless something pushes you along.
Today for some reason, I woke up at 9, even though I had gone to sleep at 4. I thought waking up at 10 was a stretch, but that's what I had set my alarm to since I had things I wanted to accomplish today. But I woke up and had boundless energy. I transcribed the RLS blog which I had written long hand while I stayed in the hotel and was without internet. I then bounced around and showered, continued to sing and dance as I completed my grooming rituals, and even had enough time to be vain in the mirror for a second.
As I soaked up my usual fix from my chemical dependency on the pavement, I felt a charge I haven't felt in a while. I felt good. I felt confident. And confidence is a drug that liberates oneself from inhibition. I was less subversive about my enjoyment of music and visibly mouthed words and bobbed my head. When I was walking, the observant would have seen that I was really dancing as much as possible. All this while I dropped off a photo of my grandfather to be reproduced and stopped off at four stores to shop. I was charming to the attendant in the department store. You could not stop me.
But then I went to drive golf balls because I finally felt inspired enough. And the confidence was still there. I asked for the clubs I wanted without hesitation and found my way to a slot. But then the confidence drained out of me. First my ball machine wasn't working. The nice elderly lady next to me helped me out and actually gave me her slot with free balls since she was a member. But then I just sucked. Its been a while since I picked up clubs. And I got all cerebral and upset at myself. Furthermore, I was starting to get tired as I walked to the golf club and I forgot to eat in my mania.
I left sad. I even discovered a bunch of shops I probably would love after i passed by the meat market, but I couldn't even get excited. My music didn't even bring me joy. And there is inertia. You couldn't stop me before in terms of confidence. But my disappointing play combined with my sleepiness changed all that. Confidence gone.
It got to the point where I was figuring out how I could afford private lessons so I could dominate the sport, which I've always thought was perfect for me. It's solitary and useful in climbing the social ladder. You get to spend loads of cash on equipment and everybody is always striving for perfection.
And it all quickly came back when I got on the train and a girl gave me the look over as we passed and actually turned her head to check me out as she walked away. Smirk returned. Head bobbing, though the sleepiness still kept me somewhat sedate.
Today for some reason, I woke up at 9, even though I had gone to sleep at 4. I thought waking up at 10 was a stretch, but that's what I had set my alarm to since I had things I wanted to accomplish today. But I woke up and had boundless energy. I transcribed the RLS blog which I had written long hand while I stayed in the hotel and was without internet. I then bounced around and showered, continued to sing and dance as I completed my grooming rituals, and even had enough time to be vain in the mirror for a second.
As I soaked up my usual fix from my chemical dependency on the pavement, I felt a charge I haven't felt in a while. I felt good. I felt confident. And confidence is a drug that liberates oneself from inhibition. I was less subversive about my enjoyment of music and visibly mouthed words and bobbed my head. When I was walking, the observant would have seen that I was really dancing as much as possible. All this while I dropped off a photo of my grandfather to be reproduced and stopped off at four stores to shop. I was charming to the attendant in the department store. You could not stop me.
But then I went to drive golf balls because I finally felt inspired enough. And the confidence was still there. I asked for the clubs I wanted without hesitation and found my way to a slot. But then the confidence drained out of me. First my ball machine wasn't working. The nice elderly lady next to me helped me out and actually gave me her slot with free balls since she was a member. But then I just sucked. Its been a while since I picked up clubs. And I got all cerebral and upset at myself. Furthermore, I was starting to get tired as I walked to the golf club and I forgot to eat in my mania.
I left sad. I even discovered a bunch of shops I probably would love after i passed by the meat market, but I couldn't even get excited. My music didn't even bring me joy. And there is inertia. You couldn't stop me before in terms of confidence. But my disappointing play combined with my sleepiness changed all that. Confidence gone.
It got to the point where I was figuring out how I could afford private lessons so I could dominate the sport, which I've always thought was perfect for me. It's solitary and useful in climbing the social ladder. You get to spend loads of cash on equipment and everybody is always striving for perfection.
And it all quickly came back when I got on the train and a girl gave me the look over as we passed and actually turned her head to check me out as she walked away. Smirk returned. Head bobbing, though the sleepiness still kept me somewhat sedate.
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
How Do You Solve A Problem Like Restless Legs?
Due to my recent spike in television consumption, combined with my digestion and acute attention to advertisements, I've learned that I may suffer from Restless Legs Syndrome. According to the commercials, people that suffer from the affliction have symptoms like weird fidgeting in their legs and the incessant urge to move around. Thank God I saw these messages cause I was actually considering cutting back on the SoBe Energy Coolattas from Dunkin Donuts.
Now though, since I have identified the real problem, how exactly do I combat this RLS (as the cool kids refer to is)? Well I never would have known about it, if not for an ad for Mirapex, a medication aimed at calming the symptoms of the syndrome. But the lovely people at Boehringer Ingelheim, which make it, were nice enough to tell me that I might feel the urge to fall asleep during normal everyday activities like driving. And after I did more research, I found that it might initiate hallucinations and compulsive gambling. This all makes me somewhat wary. I just want to calm down my legs. Though the increased sex drive may be a bonus.
Just when I thought I was at my wit's end, I saw another commercial for Requip, aimed at trying to quell the same problem. Not only did this give me hope but it also offered comfort since if there were two medications for this diagnosis, it must mean there are enough people suffering just like me to motivate the pharmaceutical companies to make a profit. Sometimes you have to thank God for those lovely executives diligently working to help me live my best life possible. Like any other drug, Requip has side effects, but they only reported drowsiness, nausea, and vomiting. That is much better than spontaneous narcolepsy. Imagine if my kids took advantage of my sporadic comas. Plus the increasing reports of organ thieves frightens me and I do love to take the subway.
Now my plan was to go to Costco and get bulk supplies of toothpaste and mints so I could hide the possible effects from my future prescription. Sadly, after I did more research, I found that Requip had the same problems that Mirapex has. Compulsive gambling, dizziness when I stand up, hallucinations. It was all there. Now how can I terminate the constant motivation to actually do things and move around.
Maybe I'll just walk it off.
Now though, since I have identified the real problem, how exactly do I combat this RLS (as the cool kids refer to is)? Well I never would have known about it, if not for an ad for Mirapex, a medication aimed at calming the symptoms of the syndrome. But the lovely people at Boehringer Ingelheim, which make it, were nice enough to tell me that I might feel the urge to fall asleep during normal everyday activities like driving. And after I did more research, I found that it might initiate hallucinations and compulsive gambling. This all makes me somewhat wary. I just want to calm down my legs. Though the increased sex drive may be a bonus.
Just when I thought I was at my wit's end, I saw another commercial for Requip, aimed at trying to quell the same problem. Not only did this give me hope but it also offered comfort since if there were two medications for this diagnosis, it must mean there are enough people suffering just like me to motivate the pharmaceutical companies to make a profit. Sometimes you have to thank God for those lovely executives diligently working to help me live my best life possible. Like any other drug, Requip has side effects, but they only reported drowsiness, nausea, and vomiting. That is much better than spontaneous narcolepsy. Imagine if my kids took advantage of my sporadic comas. Plus the increasing reports of organ thieves frightens me and I do love to take the subway.
Now my plan was to go to Costco and get bulk supplies of toothpaste and mints so I could hide the possible effects from my future prescription. Sadly, after I did more research, I found that Requip had the same problems that Mirapex has. Compulsive gambling, dizziness when I stand up, hallucinations. It was all there. Now how can I terminate the constant motivation to actually do things and move around.
Maybe I'll just walk it off.
Monday, September 03, 2007
Sunshine Chronicles #7
To begin our last day in Orlando, I was awake rather early. Like 4:30 a.m. Why was I so restless? Who knows, but I couldn't simmer down. I browsed the internet. I ate fruit. I read bits of religious text. I took pictures of myself.
I finally got to bed, but I rose rather early and went running in my aunt's cul de sac wearing exactly the outfit from the picture. For some reason it slipped my mind I was in Florida in summer. Even though I was running before the sun was its most deadly, I was a drenched by the time I returned. I actually fetched ice chips and made myself a bootleg ice bath.
Once that was done, I sat for a mini breakfast with my aunt, uncle and mom. Soon we were talking of family and I naturally had questions about relations and lineage. Soon I had a pencil and paper and was sketching things out. Next thing you know I'm volunteered to compile all the neat information I gathered into a neat little printout for the whole family. Thanks Mom. I don't mind though.
I know most my age think of a true vacation as one that has some bits of debauchery as hallmarks of the break, but I enjoy this family time just as much. Our family is small and for some reason I really don't want lose any part of it. Whatever I can learn of its past is good, even if it is incomplete.
I finally got to bed, but I rose rather early and went running in my aunt's cul de sac wearing exactly the outfit from the picture. For some reason it slipped my mind I was in Florida in summer. Even though I was running before the sun was its most deadly, I was a drenched by the time I returned. I actually fetched ice chips and made myself a bootleg ice bath.
Once that was done, I sat for a mini breakfast with my aunt, uncle and mom. Soon we were talking of family and I naturally had questions about relations and lineage. Soon I had a pencil and paper and was sketching things out. Next thing you know I'm volunteered to compile all the neat information I gathered into a neat little printout for the whole family. Thanks Mom. I don't mind though.
I know most my age think of a true vacation as one that has some bits of debauchery as hallmarks of the break, but I enjoy this family time just as much. Our family is small and for some reason I really don't want lose any part of it. Whatever I can learn of its past is good, even if it is incomplete.
Sunday, September 02, 2007
Sunshine Chronicles #6
Before I even stepped on a plane, the plan for today was to be a housewarming for Driven (the name I have chosen for my godbrother). But when I touched down on the soil, I learned that the plans were cancelled due to his leech, I mean, girlfriend's parents unexpectedly staying an extra week in the house. But when I learned that they were leaving Sunday morning, I petitioned to Driven about the event and he invited the family anyway.
To start with, it was nice to walk in the house and not need to be on guard with the parents around. Each time you interacted with them, there was the threat of being drawn into inane conversation for who knows whatever reason. I've spoke on it before but the need to speak all the time is grossly overrated. Anyway, the little minx wasn't too bad in the morning cause she did cook breakfast. But within the hour she was gone, and then the house was completely chill. It was like a huge bachelor pad
I'm sad that I lost touch with Driven over time though cause he is a kindred spirit. As we argued over Meet The Press, I realized he is one of the few who can understand a lot of the things I go through just because we were raised very similarly. Then we watched Sports Center, Idlewild, and golf. We chatted. We were peace. It was vacation. Even Driven seemed to lighten up immensely when she was gone.
Finally the whole party arrived, and the tour was on. Out of nowhere the little minx just reappeared and the balloon just deflated. Luckily the excitement of the house initially masked the discontent, but eventually it reared its ugly head. When she went along with Driven and his boy for more supplies at the Home Depot, I debriefed Meters (my godsister's chosen name) and her mom on my conversation with him. The basic points are that they're just not right for each other. In biblical terms, this would be called "unequally yoked." And for them, it's on a myriad of levels. Culture, interests, intelligence, you name it. They're just not on the same page. About the only thing I see they have in common is having melanin, shared melanin, and a possible belief that some degree of misery might be a natural part of life.
Anyway, then me and Meters ran out to get the Ruby Tuesday order we had placed and then we all ate. The minx was there and honestly you felt a temperature change with each room she progressed too. I was tired of her presence because over the weekend it was so much easier to see how different Driven was with her and then without her. We even tried to convince him to return to Orlando with us that night, but we know the only reason he didn't come was because he was scared of the fall out from her. They're not even technically dating. And it's his life!!!! Oh let me stop before I get more passionate.
I packed up my stuff and headed back with Meters and my godparents, where I updated my godfather on what I had told Meters and her mom earlier in the day. Sadly I learned more information that made me like the minx less. But me and Meters had fun with it along the way.
And now I type from my aunt's mini office on an iMac that is ancient. But I am surrounded by portraits of my family and it is enough to almost move one to tears. In the message he delivered yesterday, the president of the university alluded to recognizing the people and experiences that made us who we are. Most of the events this weekend have helped me realize how often I draw on the experiences related to my family in my modus operandi even now. During the ride with Meters, we also touched on my cousins, one of which she had some sort of attempt at an intimate relationship. And it was funny to see how they diverged from the path we seemed to be raised in. The selflessness and consideration i'd like to think of as some of my most central traits were nurtured by my family. I wouldn't be who I am if it wasn't for the excursions to Maryland or the Sabbath dinners at my aunt's house. My mother is who I derive the most influence from and she was raised in the same way. How can I not credit them for who I am? If anything, right now I am more remiss that I let myself forget and that I have somehow come short on what I should have delivered back to them. But it's better late than never.
I'm sleepy though. Good night.
To start with, it was nice to walk in the house and not need to be on guard with the parents around. Each time you interacted with them, there was the threat of being drawn into inane conversation for who knows whatever reason. I've spoke on it before but the need to speak all the time is grossly overrated. Anyway, the little minx wasn't too bad in the morning cause she did cook breakfast. But within the hour she was gone, and then the house was completely chill. It was like a huge bachelor pad
I'm sad that I lost touch with Driven over time though cause he is a kindred spirit. As we argued over Meet The Press, I realized he is one of the few who can understand a lot of the things I go through just because we were raised very similarly. Then we watched Sports Center, Idlewild, and golf. We chatted. We were peace. It was vacation. Even Driven seemed to lighten up immensely when she was gone.
Finally the whole party arrived, and the tour was on. Out of nowhere the little minx just reappeared and the balloon just deflated. Luckily the excitement of the house initially masked the discontent, but eventually it reared its ugly head. When she went along with Driven and his boy for more supplies at the Home Depot, I debriefed Meters (my godsister's chosen name) and her mom on my conversation with him. The basic points are that they're just not right for each other. In biblical terms, this would be called "unequally yoked." And for them, it's on a myriad of levels. Culture, interests, intelligence, you name it. They're just not on the same page. About the only thing I see they have in common is having melanin, shared melanin, and a possible belief that some degree of misery might be a natural part of life.
Anyway, then me and Meters ran out to get the Ruby Tuesday order we had placed and then we all ate. The minx was there and honestly you felt a temperature change with each room she progressed too. I was tired of her presence because over the weekend it was so much easier to see how different Driven was with her and then without her. We even tried to convince him to return to Orlando with us that night, but we know the only reason he didn't come was because he was scared of the fall out from her. They're not even technically dating. And it's his life!!!! Oh let me stop before I get more passionate.
I packed up my stuff and headed back with Meters and my godparents, where I updated my godfather on what I had told Meters and her mom earlier in the day. Sadly I learned more information that made me like the minx less. But me and Meters had fun with it along the way.
And now I type from my aunt's mini office on an iMac that is ancient. But I am surrounded by portraits of my family and it is enough to almost move one to tears. In the message he delivered yesterday, the president of the university alluded to recognizing the people and experiences that made us who we are. Most of the events this weekend have helped me realize how often I draw on the experiences related to my family in my modus operandi even now. During the ride with Meters, we also touched on my cousins, one of which she had some sort of attempt at an intimate relationship. And it was funny to see how they diverged from the path we seemed to be raised in. The selflessness and consideration i'd like to think of as some of my most central traits were nurtured by my family. I wouldn't be who I am if it wasn't for the excursions to Maryland or the Sabbath dinners at my aunt's house. My mother is who I derive the most influence from and she was raised in the same way. How can I not credit them for who I am? If anything, right now I am more remiss that I let myself forget and that I have somehow come short on what I should have delivered back to them. But it's better late than never.
I'm sleepy though. Good night.
Fertilizer
Warning: The following post may be a little too candid. If you continue and are eventually perturbed by the information you garnered, I apologize. You might also want to relax too.
Last week, as my boys were packing at work to move to their new house, I was sitting listening to beats one of the them was making on his PS2. Another boy, who is quickly becoming my favorite, came out of the bathroom. He seemed kind of dazed for a second like he didn't know where he was. Just as I was about to ask him if he was okay, he piped up in a chipper voice, "I just took two poopies in there." He then turned on his heels and returned to his activity. I just started to chuckly and I finally asked if he did feel okay and he responded that he felt great. He even was walking noticeably lighter on his toes.
Its funny that some of our boys actually have laxatives as part of their medication plan. Partially it is because some of the meds they are on do clog up the system as a side effect. But for some it actually is a conributor to the mood stabilization. That clogged up system can bog us down as a whole. I wonder how often a kid has had an issue partially because their mood was affected by their inability to defecate. I can understand why. Posh loves her sit down tete-a-tetes with the Porcelain Goddess. And I too relish the good morning cleansings.
Maybe the world needs to take more dumps
Last week, as my boys were packing at work to move to their new house, I was sitting listening to beats one of the them was making on his PS2. Another boy, who is quickly becoming my favorite, came out of the bathroom. He seemed kind of dazed for a second like he didn't know where he was. Just as I was about to ask him if he was okay, he piped up in a chipper voice, "I just took two poopies in there." He then turned on his heels and returned to his activity. I just started to chuckly and I finally asked if he did feel okay and he responded that he felt great. He even was walking noticeably lighter on his toes.
Its funny that some of our boys actually have laxatives as part of their medication plan. Partially it is because some of the meds they are on do clog up the system as a side effect. But for some it actually is a conributor to the mood stabilization. That clogged up system can bog us down as a whole. I wonder how often a kid has had an issue partially because their mood was affected by their inability to defecate. I can understand why. Posh loves her sit down tete-a-tetes with the Porcelain Goddess. And I too relish the good morning cleansings.
Maybe the world needs to take more dumps
What The Hell Am I Doing?
When I am bold enough, I will write the blog I really want to all about how this summer has been kind of like a poor man's version of the Zach Braff coming of age movie. Part of that whole kick is actually trying to determine some sort of direction in my life. Of course, as I always have, I turn to tests to help me solve the issue. And the wonderful people at Similar Minds gave me this.
Career Inventory Test Results
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The scary part is that I kind of knew this already but confirmation from some arbitrary distant test that knows nothing about me is somehow comforting. Did I mention I am on vacation in Florida and this is how I chose to spend my time? So the title of the blog has added meaning? I've been avoiding true introspection for so long I might as well embrace any sort of motivated action I might take. Now what do I do with this information. I think I'll sign up for the GRE and flesh out some creative ideas like a TV pilot about a quirky coffeehouse and the novel Socrates has said I should write for some time.
By the way, I am also splitting time obsessing over the anonymous comment someone left on my smoking blog. It's just mean that someone would leave a possibly flirtatious signature (Come on: Eve for Adam) and not even leave a hint as to the identity. Oh its torture. The suppressed narcissist in me wants to explode at the frustration. An ego stroke that doesn't really exist.
Saturday, September 01, 2007
Sunshine Chronicles #5
Some quick shots:
- I'm halfway decent at this psych thing. My godbrother asked me what I thought of his relationship after about 24 hours of viewing the whole thing and I told him to cut the girl loose. And with each one of my reasons, like the fact that he secretly might never want to get married and the fact that she's not on his level, he nodded his head in agreement. Furthermore, his boy who was with us concurred with my assessment.
- I love Home Depot. As I was in the store, it continued the growing urge to do something. I was discussing with Mira later how cool it would be to like gut a house or rebuild it. Though I've never worked heavy duty with tools, I think it would be another extension of creativity. And another way to reclaim some sort of spirit of masculinity. I think I've been reading too much GQ
- My godbrother suggested going to the Super Bowl but after research we realized that was stupid. But 2009 is in Tampa and since he lives there, that sounds more realisitic. But I did find out there is a Giants/Patriots game in New Jersey on my birthday and Stevie Wonder is going to be in Boston on a non-work day. Intriguing.
Sunshine Chronicles #4
At 7:45 this morning, I turned off the alarm and got myself some apple juice. I had a really engaging conversation with my Mira (formerly Secret Stripper) last night, but it began right when I would have tried to go to sleep. Instead it lasted an hour and kept me up till 1 something or other. So the early morning call, especially since yesterday I had also had limited sleep was potentially painful. It didn't help that we were headed back to Orlando and my godbrother (he needs a nickname but we can let that marinate) is 90 minutes away. Plus, it was us, his girlfriend, and his parents about to pile into a Kia for the hike.
I somehow was ready in 20 minutes but I kind of foresaw the issue ahead of time and had everything already prepared. The drive was initially grating due to the inane conversation about flood lines and lawn mowers. But when we started to talk about urban infrastructure and the two sidedness of the Adventist organization, I found my groove and seemed to salvage any poor impression I might have left on the parents.
The big reason we were there was that it was Northern Caribbean University day. Its the Adventist institution in Jamaica and the alumni chapters organize days at their local churches and everything is centered around the institution. In New York, it used to be more of a big deal, but has dwindled over time. but this time, we're in Central Florida, where its still pretty big. And I had more motivation to make the best of it cause I had promised Mira I would shoot some videos to explain my very peculiar religion. The more and more I try to explain it, the more and more I realize that it is a culture even more peculiar than I originally realized.
Another added bonus about the event was the fact that my goal in life is to maintain the cool of being an old West Indian man and they were there in spades. Now to clarify, I think that the British influence in Jamaica is something that I love a lot. I like the style. I like the football. Now when that is coupled with our African descent, I think they epitomize ease and cool. There is still a drive in them and a sense of what should be right in the world, but also an appreciation of the simple things in life. Its why someone shouted out during the service that hopefully dominoes would be part of the post-sunset activities. The actual president of the university was the perfect example. He deliveered a message that began with the most articulate greetings but slowly became more and more colloquial and passionate as time wore on. He wove humor throughout, spoke tangentially, and honestly was never completely cohesive. But you still got the point of what he was saying, mainly how important the school was to so many people's lives and just how the opportunities we are afforded are so valuable. Man I want to be an old West Indian dude so bad.
Anyway, feeding the masses was next up on the agenda and I volunteered to help set it up. It was frantic but it was fun. And after it was all done, I sat down for an articulate discussion with my mom and godsisters about my godbrother's contentious relationship. Between Mira and Doodlebug, even a late night conversation with Hixican Jew last night, it has been so nice to have articulate conversation. I didn't realize I was devoid for so long.
Then the girlfriend began itching to leave so me left 90 minutes before we had originally agreed to. And we made an unexpected stop at one of their friends' houses where I got to play soccer with their 4 year old. He had boundless energy and by the end I was sweating too. The kid is a natural athlete though. His sliding tackle was immaculate. And he had the perfect pose for the camera after it was all done.
I dodged the inane conversation on the long ride home by taking a nap. And when we closed the Sabbath, I actually prayed a sincere, considerate prayer. I was surprised since I haven't really been in practice.
Anyway off to Home Depot and maybe some food.
Prayed a decent prayer
I somehow was ready in 20 minutes but I kind of foresaw the issue ahead of time and had everything already prepared. The drive was initially grating due to the inane conversation about flood lines and lawn mowers. But when we started to talk about urban infrastructure and the two sidedness of the Adventist organization, I found my groove and seemed to salvage any poor impression I might have left on the parents.
The big reason we were there was that it was Northern Caribbean University day. Its the Adventist institution in Jamaica and the alumni chapters organize days at their local churches and everything is centered around the institution. In New York, it used to be more of a big deal, but has dwindled over time. but this time, we're in Central Florida, where its still pretty big. And I had more motivation to make the best of it cause I had promised Mira I would shoot some videos to explain my very peculiar religion. The more and more I try to explain it, the more and more I realize that it is a culture even more peculiar than I originally realized.
Another added bonus about the event was the fact that my goal in life is to maintain the cool of being an old West Indian man and they were there in spades. Now to clarify, I think that the British influence in Jamaica is something that I love a lot. I like the style. I like the football. Now when that is coupled with our African descent, I think they epitomize ease and cool. There is still a drive in them and a sense of what should be right in the world, but also an appreciation of the simple things in life. Its why someone shouted out during the service that hopefully dominoes would be part of the post-sunset activities. The actual president of the university was the perfect example. He deliveered a message that began with the most articulate greetings but slowly became more and more colloquial and passionate as time wore on. He wove humor throughout, spoke tangentially, and honestly was never completely cohesive. But you still got the point of what he was saying, mainly how important the school was to so many people's lives and just how the opportunities we are afforded are so valuable. Man I want to be an old West Indian dude so bad.
Anyway, feeding the masses was next up on the agenda and I volunteered to help set it up. It was frantic but it was fun. And after it was all done, I sat down for an articulate discussion with my mom and godsisters about my godbrother's contentious relationship. Between Mira and Doodlebug, even a late night conversation with Hixican Jew last night, it has been so nice to have articulate conversation. I didn't realize I was devoid for so long.
Then the girlfriend began itching to leave so me left 90 minutes before we had originally agreed to. And we made an unexpected stop at one of their friends' houses where I got to play soccer with their 4 year old. He had boundless energy and by the end I was sweating too. The kid is a natural athlete though. His sliding tackle was immaculate. And he had the perfect pose for the camera after it was all done.
I dodged the inane conversation on the long ride home by taking a nap. And when we closed the Sabbath, I actually prayed a sincere, considerate prayer. I was surprised since I haven't really been in practice.
Anyway off to Home Depot and maybe some food.
Prayed a decent prayer
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