Thursday, May 26, 2005
040: Leaving on a Jet Plane
Well, this morning I leave for a much needed vacation. On my return, I hope to bring you exciting tales of man conquering nature. Or maybe it'll be the other way around. Whatever. I'm leaving on a jet plane...
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
039: A Lost Night
Tonight is it! Tonight is it! Only one hour to go! The best show ever will have its season finale. Although, I wonder who will win tonight's ratings competition. Fox's American Idol finale where either Bo or what's-her-name will become our next Idol or ABC's Lost. I know what I'm going to watch, but I wonder which show will win. Anyways, whoever bothers me while I worship in front of the idiot-maker shall know the full meaning of what wrath is. Have a wonderful Lost night!
Addendum: By the way, Ken Jennings got his ass served to him on tonight's Jeopardy.
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
038: I'm Just...
...puzzled. Well, my job interview didn't go so well. It's because I sabotaged my own chances by saying all the wrong things on purpose. You see, I didn't really want the job. But why am I so disappointed?
...excited. I'll be going on a much needed vacation. It's been two years since I've gone on one. In less than two days I'll be sunning in sunny SoCal and in three days time I'll be hiking up various trails in Yosemite. It's gonna be great. I hope.
...excited. I'll be going on a much needed vacation. It's been two years since I've gone on one. In less than two days I'll be sunning in sunny SoCal and in three days time I'll be hiking up various trails in Yosemite. It's gonna be great. I hope.
Saturday, May 21, 2005
037: Come Again
it's Friday I want to play,
on Saturday don't want to stay, at home
thinking of you so let me party all night long,
it's Friday I want to play,
on Saturday don't want to waste no more time on you
so let me party all night long,
なんども、着信のチェックしてみても you won't appear
こっちからかけてもいいけど、my pride gets in the way
my friends keep telling me you ain't good for me
like 「あんなやつほっときな」
“Girl there's so much to see”
良い人に出会うチャンスはあるし
金曜日のスカラに君を忘れに踊り明かすよ今夜
I'll sing you this song, 届くように
切ないメロディーに涙しないようにクールにね
踊り続けさせて ねえ DJ won't you come again
フロアーをもっと熱く 響かせて
Yeah, 朝までまわし続けて 帰りたくないから止めないで
Bring it to ya live 直通これ Astro
しれてるはず もういわずと ever since 初登場
耳から離れることねえ flow
from the 滑走路、bow！ 銃弾
突入あらゆる空間、あらゆる周波数
invasion stere-ere-o-phonic 芸術
so tell me who da... ６万ドルのヒューマン
chillin on my 空飛ぶじゅうたん m-flo crew is the 集団、
keepin clubs more ソシアル then アフロ
キューバン とかしてくぜ道 封鎖
するやつら、蹴飛ばす これ習慣 ain't nuthin to it, だまらず泣く子
取り巻きくっちゃうフロントアクト
こんなに 待ってても君に dissされるしthis mic is live (wire) live (wire) live (wire)
this flow is live (wire) live (wire) live (wire)
DJ is live (wire) live (wire) live (wire)
The floor is live (wire) live (wire) live (wire)
つまらない関係ならば why don't you let me go
My friends keep telling me I should find someone
つめたくなくて 優しい
a special one who'd treat you respectfully,
だってそれが普通だし
夜中過ぎるころには 君より他の素敵な人と 今夜
we'll sing you this song, そう 素直に
寄り添う二人 体が感じるままにね
踊り続けさせて ねえ DJ won't you come again
フロアーをもっと熱く 響かせて
Yeah, 朝までまわし続けて 帰りたくないから止めないで
踊り続けさせて ねえ DJ won't you come againおくれるなよ、get down get down
to the floor, party people
until the (Hoot! Hoot!) ピーポーピーポー
come to bumrush the 営業
清掃してフィエスタ ウエスタン帽にポリエスタ
シャツ えりだけ巨大 check the スニーカーの素材
わに革 I'm the man of the hour
君たちビリ like Jean and not my
lover, シャバダバ it's past eleven
フリスビーにするぜ ワックな皿
your style's cheesy and gay it's チーカマ
I blanky jet through your city 今日はサタデー
we gets dumb and dumber
フロアーをもっと熱く 響かせて
Yeah, 朝までまわし続けて 帰りたくないから止めないで
it's Friday I want to play,
on Saturday don't want to stay, at home
thinking of you so let me party all night long.
it's Friday I want to play,
on Saturday don't want to waste no more time on you
so let me party all night long.
夜中過ぎるころには 君より他の素敵な人と 今夜
we'll sing you this song, そう 素直に
寄り添う二人 体が感じるままにね
踊り続けさせて ねえ DJ won't you come again
フロアーをもっと熱く 響かせて
Yeah, 朝までまわし続けて 帰りたくないから止めないで
金曜日のスカラに君を忘れに 踊り明かすよ 今夜
I'll sing you this song 届くように
切ないメロディーに涙しないようにクールにね
踊り続けさせて ねえ DJ won't you come again
フロアーをもっと熱く 響かせて
Yeah, 朝までまわし続けて 帰りたくないから止めないで
- Come Again by m-flo
***
I know, I know. Today is Saturday and not Friday, but the sentiment is the same. I want to play!
Anyways, below is my attempt on the translation. I've pretty much disregarded VERBAL's rap, and just concentrated on LISA's part. It ain't very good, but I tried to maintain the nuance of the lyric.
***
***
I know, I know. Today is Saturday and not Friday, but the sentiment is the same. I want to play!
Anyways, below is my attempt on the translation. I've pretty much disregarded VERBAL's rap, and just concentrated on LISA's part. It ain't very good, but I tried to maintain the nuance of the lyric.
***
it's Friday I want to play,
on Saturday don't want to stay, at home
thinking of you so let me party all night long,
it's Friday I want to play,
on Saturday don't want to waste no more time on you
so let me party all night long,
Many times I check my messages but you won't appear
I should call you but my pride gets in the way
my friends keep telling me you ain't good for me
like, “Forget that guy,”
“Girl there's so much to see”
“There’s a chance you’ll meet a good guy”
At Friday’s Scala, I’ll dance the night away to forget you, tonight,
I'll sing you this song, to reach you,
With this sad melody, shedding not a drop of tear, keeping my cool
Let me go on dancing, DJ, won't you come again
Heat up the floor
Yeah, keep on spinning ‘til morning, and don’t stop ‘coz I don’t want to go home.
Even though I wait this long for you, I still get dissed
If I’m a bore why don't you let me go
My friends keep telling me I should find someone
Who’s not cold, but kind
a special one who'd treat you respectfully,
‘coz that’s the way it should be
Before the night is through, someone, who is lovelier than you, and I, tonight,
we'll sing you this song, yes, gently
the two of us as close as can be, our bodies touching
Let me go on dancing, DJ, won't you come again
Heat up the floor
Yeah, keep on spinning ‘til morning, and don’t stop ‘coz I don’t want to go home.
Let me go on dancing, DJ, won't you come again
Heat up the floor
Yeah, keep on spinning ‘til morning, and don’t stop ‘coz I don’t want to go home.
it's Friday I want to play,
on Saturday don't want to stay, at home
thinking of you so let me party all night long.
it's Friday I want to play,
on Saturday don't want to waste no more time on you
thinking of you so let me party all night long.
Before the night is through, someone, who is lovelier than you, and I, tonight,
we'll sing you this song, yes, gently
the two of us as close as can be, our bodies touching
Let me go on dancing, DJ, won't you come again
Heat up the floor
Yeah, keep on spinning ‘til morning, and don’t stop ‘coz I don’t want to go home.
At Friday’s Scala, I’ll dance the night away to forget you, tonight,
I'll sing you this song, to reach you,
With this sad melody, shedding not a drop of tear, keeping my cool
Let me go on dancing, DJ, won't you come again
Heat up the floor
Yeah, keep on spinning ‘til morning, and don’t stop ‘coz I don’t want to go home.
***
Well, also, on a side note, today's my birthday. Argh!
Addendum: The night was great fun! Started with a great dinner and ended with me walking out to a bright mid-morning sky after a hard night of dancing. Later on, I did get rained on, though, as soon as I got out of the subway station. (05/22/05)
Friday, May 20, 2005
Thursday, May 19, 2005
035: Baby Steps
Morning, November 1, 2004
A soothing spray of hot water hits my face. My face flushes, the heat rising from within, making the hot water feel cool; my eyes mist up, the tears pooling up, unleashing the sadness I’ve held for so long. And I weep. I can’t stop, I don’t want it to stop. I let myself go.
***
October 24, 2004
I’m standing in the back corner near the bar counter, hidden from everyone’s view, hoping no one would notice this awkward mess of a guy. I’ve come to listen to this guy read, this guy whose site I found only a few days prior to tonight’s event. I don’t know what it was, but there was something about his posts, his words… They were like a strong hand grabbing hold of mine, reassuringly safe, ever so encouraging, the hand leading me a step closer to accepting myself.
But I’m not ready, especially not tonight. Tonight, I’ll be content standing at my corner, unnoticed by everyone else there, just to hear him and others out, to find out whether what I felt reading him was an isolated fluke or not. It’s not, I discover to my horror. For the first time in a long while, I don’t feel bad about myself for having certain thoughts and feelings. I feel normal. Yet, I can’t reconcile myself to this liberating emotion.
As soon as the last person finish reading his piece, I swiftly retreat down the stairway, shoving open the bar door, taking me to a chilly autumn night in DC. On the metro ride home, I decide I should start writing or even start a blog of my own, hoping for I don’t know what.
***
October 17, 2004
For some reason, today of all days, I decide to go to church with my roommate. I end my self-imposed exile from church. The preacher, up on his pulpit, speaks, praising those who lead a life that is righteous, one that is rooted in God’s love, one that is pleasing to God. His words are something I’ve heard so many times during my youth, the words I’ve tried so hard to keep and uphold. Then, the tone of the sermon changes like some dark clouds quickly encroaching to cover the bright blue sky; the love he spoke of before had disappeared like the sun hiding behind the bleak black clouds. The theme of his sermon was thus:
I’ve never heard a sermon laced with so much disgust for a group of people who are only looking for acceptance. Yes, I’ve heard it called a sin, but so is eating pork. Having been encouraged by countless godly people to believe that God’s love has no limits, proven by the Son up on Calvary, the blood shed for everyone, I feel livid listening to this man up on the pulpit. The good reverend’s words are like a slap to my face, a sharp knife piercing me from behind, making me feel very unwelcome in a place where God is supposed to be communing with His people. Even though I neither see nor identify myself as them, I feel ostracized.
***
Evening November 1, 2004
I start writing the psalm. But it’s full of angry words, so I stop without finishing it and let it sit… Tonight, God and I know the truth. Finally I accept it, but it terrifies me all the same, because tonight, I both see and identify myself as them. Still, I feel ostracized, but still I let it be my secret. Those who know me need not know, not yet anyway. I don't know when, but not now. But the psalm is my revelation of the secret I've kept all my life. It shall be finished and posted on my blog, I vow, so that, at least, strangers can know me.
A soothing spray of hot water hits my face. My face flushes, the heat rising from within, making the hot water feel cool; my eyes mist up, the tears pooling up, unleashing the sadness I’ve held for so long. And I weep. I can’t stop, I don’t want it to stop. I let myself go.
***
October 24, 2004
I’m standing in the back corner near the bar counter, hidden from everyone’s view, hoping no one would notice this awkward mess of a guy. I’ve come to listen to this guy read, this guy whose site I found only a few days prior to tonight’s event. I don’t know what it was, but there was something about his posts, his words… They were like a strong hand grabbing hold of mine, reassuringly safe, ever so encouraging, the hand leading me a step closer to accepting myself.
But I’m not ready, especially not tonight. Tonight, I’ll be content standing at my corner, unnoticed by everyone else there, just to hear him and others out, to find out whether what I felt reading him was an isolated fluke or not. It’s not, I discover to my horror. For the first time in a long while, I don’t feel bad about myself for having certain thoughts and feelings. I feel normal. Yet, I can’t reconcile myself to this liberating emotion.
As soon as the last person finish reading his piece, I swiftly retreat down the stairway, shoving open the bar door, taking me to a chilly autumn night in DC. On the metro ride home, I decide I should start writing or even start a blog of my own, hoping for I don’t know what.
***
October 17, 2004
For some reason, today of all days, I decide to go to church with my roommate. I end my self-imposed exile from church. The preacher, up on his pulpit, speaks, praising those who lead a life that is righteous, one that is rooted in God’s love, one that is pleasing to God. His words are something I’ve heard so many times during my youth, the words I’ve tried so hard to keep and uphold. Then, the tone of the sermon changes like some dark clouds quickly encroaching to cover the bright blue sky; the love he spoke of before had disappeared like the sun hiding behind the bleak black clouds. The theme of his sermon was thus:
It’s an abomination.
It’s an unforgivable sin.
Those who have chosen that path will never know God’s love.
I’ve never heard a sermon laced with so much disgust for a group of people who are only looking for acceptance. Yes, I’ve heard it called a sin, but so is eating pork. Having been encouraged by countless godly people to believe that God’s love has no limits, proven by the Son up on Calvary, the blood shed for everyone, I feel livid listening to this man up on the pulpit. The good reverend’s words are like a slap to my face, a sharp knife piercing me from behind, making me feel very unwelcome in a place where God is supposed to be communing with His people. Even though I neither see nor identify myself as them, I feel ostracized.
***
Evening November 1, 2004
I start writing the psalm. But it’s full of angry words, so I stop without finishing it and let it sit… Tonight, God and I know the truth. Finally I accept it, but it terrifies me all the same, because tonight, I both see and identify myself as them. Still, I feel ostracized, but still I let it be my secret. Those who know me need not know, not yet anyway. I don't know when, but not now. But the psalm is my revelation of the secret I've kept all my life. It shall be finished and posted on my blog, I vow, so that, at least, strangers can know me.
Wednesday, May 18, 2005
034: A Psalm
Create in me a clean heart, O God, and put a new and right spirit within me.
Do not cast me away from Your presence, and do not take Your Holy Spirit from me.
Restore to me the joy of Your salvation, and sustain in me a willing spirit.
Indeed, I was born guilty, a sinner when my mother conceived me.
But truly, it was in Your image I was made, an apple of the Father’s eye by design.
And verily, when the Son shed his sanctifying blood, I, a sinner, was born again.
Love’s great plan unfolds, my spirit’s forever united.
Yet, I am told You are no longer near, and I am told the blame lies with me.
My spirit is bruised and battered, and my soul is exhausted and empty.
Many times my mouth uttered repentant words, O God, and many times my eyes shed contrite tears.
You desire truth in my inner parts; therefore teach me wisdom in my secret heart.
Under an olive tree I sat to listen for the truth within; thus with my eyes closed I sought counsel.
Now my heart yearns for Your ears’ attention; hence hear the wisdom you instilled in this shattered soul:
Accept me as I am, O God, and heal this broken spirit of mine.
Embrace me within Your mighty bosom, and set your Holy Spirit to be a light upon my path.
Revel for me in my foolish assurance of Your unending love, and take pleasure in me of this joyful spirit.
Indeed, You cannot be satisfied with my false façade, a lie perpetuated so as to look good in Your children's eyes.
Truly, one who stands righteous and holy on his own merits repulses You.
Because verily it is only through Your love, he is made perfect.
The blood cleanses, my spirit’s forever humbled.
Yet as Job’s friends had admonished him to repent, they tell me I’ve chosen the wrong path.
What sin had Job committed? Wasn’t Job favored for being true?
Many times his mouth cried out for death, O God, and many times his eyes shed angry tears.
Job demanded truth to be spoken; therefore You ripped wide Heaven’s veil.
Hiding his head under the sackcloth he heard You roar; thus with his eyes wide open he uncovered life’s mystery.
You are who You are; hence no one can boast of knowing Your judgment for me.
Create in me a clean heart, O God, and put a new and right spirit within me,
I long for a heart that celebrates the mystery of Your unfathomable mind;
And I seek a spirit that holds steadfast in absolute certainty of Your love for me.
Do not cast me away from Your presence, and do not take Your Holy Spirit from me.
It was in your presence, the man that I am was formed, Your hands fashioned, molded me;
And it was Your Holy Spirit that breathed life in me, a life valued so precious that blood was shed.
Restore to me the joy of Your salvation, and sustain in me a willing spirit.
The joy is knowing that, whatever others may say, I am loved—saved from self-loathing and willed to soar in confidence.
Accept me as I am, O God, and heal this broken spirit of mine.
As You lay Your hand on me, Lord, let it not be cut down again by my enemies,
By those who proclaim my inheritance is forfeit for being who I am.
Embrace me within Your mighty bosom, and set your Holy Spirit to be a light upon my path.
In Your protection, the man that I am grows strong, Your light keeps me true to Your greatest commandment:
Love Your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind;
And Love your neighbor as yourself.
So, revel for me in my foolish assurance of Your unending love, and take pleasure in me of this joyful spirit.
I am gay today, as I had been even before I had form in my mother's womb and as I will be even after I'm buried.
I shall dance as David had with all his might believing in the Lord’s unending favor;
I shall wrestle as Jacob had till daybreak, till his hip was wrenched, to receive the Lord’s blessing.
Favor me,
Bless me,
Bless me anyway.
Favor me the child whom You shed the Son’s blood for,
Bless me the child whom You’ve created and known even before conception,
Bless me anyway.
With my hands raised to the Heaven,
With my face held up to gaze Your Face,
I say this little prayer.
Father, I am gay;
Bless me anyway.
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
033: Currently Loving, Part 4
MUSIC
As you might know already I’ve fallen hard for a TV show called Grey’s Anatomy. One reason I like the show is the music. I believe the promo ABC had for the show played a song from the Postal Service, Such Great Heights, which I totally love. So as I watch each episode, I comment on how much I love the show’s choice of songs. But I’m a lazy ass. I can’t be bothered to go to the show’s official web page to find out what songs played. I’d rather let others do that for me. So thank you, Patrick.
So, for this edition of Currently Loving, I want to shout the praise for the two fantastic ladies who brought us You Wouldn’t Like Me, Fix You Up, and I Know I Know I Know.
Tegan and Sara: So Jealous
They don’t have the sultry voice of Susie Suh, Sarah McLachlan, or Fiona Apple, whose tonal qualities usually transport me to sublime catharsis; theirs is like biting into a fresh green apple, crisp and light. It’s surprisingly refreshing. Yet, their lyrics are anything but. Tegan and Sara’s songs tackle themes such as inner struggle and pain found in failing relationships; they sing about angst. Now infused those paradoxical qualities with highly energetic, guitar-driven, punk-pop melodies, we are left with life’s little ironic gift, So Jealous.
As you might know already I’ve fallen hard for a TV show called Grey’s Anatomy. One reason I like the show is the music. I believe the promo ABC had for the show played a song from the Postal Service, Such Great Heights, which I totally love. So as I watch each episode, I comment on how much I love the show’s choice of songs. But I’m a lazy ass. I can’t be bothered to go to the show’s official web page to find out what songs played. I’d rather let others do that for me. So thank you, Patrick.
So, for this edition of Currently Loving, I want to shout the praise for the two fantastic ladies who brought us You Wouldn’t Like Me, Fix You Up, and I Know I Know I Know.
Tegan and Sara: So Jealous
They don’t have the sultry voice of Susie Suh, Sarah McLachlan, or Fiona Apple, whose tonal qualities usually transport me to sublime catharsis; theirs is like biting into a fresh green apple, crisp and light. It’s surprisingly refreshing. Yet, their lyrics are anything but. Tegan and Sara’s songs tackle themes such as inner struggle and pain found in failing relationships; they sing about angst. Now infused those paradoxical qualities with highly energetic, guitar-driven, punk-pop melodies, we are left with life’s little ironic gift, So Jealous.
You Wouldn’t Like Me
There's a war inside of me
Do I cause new heartbreak to write a new broken song
Do I push it down or let it run me right into the ground
I feel like I wouldn't like me if I met me
Well I can't stop talking for
Fear of listening to unwelcome sound,
And you haven't called me in weeks and honestly it's bringing me down
I feel like I wouldn't like me if I met me
I feel like you wouldn't like me if you met me
And don't you worry there's still time
And don't you worry there's still time
There's nothing to live for
when I'm sleeping alone
and I wash the windows outside
in hopes that the glare will bring you around
I feel like I wouldn't like me if I met me
I feel like you wouldn't like me if you met me
And don't you worry there's still time
And don't you worry there's still time
And don't you worry there's still time
And don't you worry there's still time
Sunshine is days away I won't be saved I know all the words
I can't say that I'll love you forever
I won't say that I'll love you forever
***
Fix You Up
And what do I, and what do I, what do I need
To do to see myself in a better mood
And what do you, and what do you, what do you need
To do to get yourself in a better mood
Well there's not a lot for you to give if you're giving in
And there's not a lot for you to feel if you're not feeling it
You bring it up and bring it in and we'll get you fixed up in no time
And what I wanted most, what I wanted most, what I wanted most
Was to get myself all figured out
And what I figured out, what I figured out, what I figured out
Was I needed more time to figure you out
Well there's not a lot for you to give if you're giving in
And there's not a lot for you to feel if you're not feeling it
You bring it up and bring it in and we'll get you fixed up in no time
Cause this love is all I have to give
This love is all I have to give
***
I Know I Know I Know
From hundreds of miles, you cry like a baby
You plead with me, shout, scream, tell me I'm staying
I know I know I know, I'm still your love
Back from the last place, that I wanted to fake
You laugh with me, shout, scream, now tell me you're staying
I know I know I know, you're still my love
The same as I love you, you'll always love me too
This love isn't good unless it's me and you
Box after box and you're still by my side
The weather is changing and breaking my stride
I know I know I know, it's just this day
House after house, just like car after car
You see club after club and it all seems so far
I know I know I know what else are we here for
The same as I love you, you'll always love me too
This love isn't good unless it's me and you
Stick your hands inside of my pockets
Keep them warm while I'm still here
Tell them this love hasn't changed me, hasn't changed me at all
Last night I was writing about you
I know my screaming and shouting won't keep you
I know I know I know, you're still my love
I wake up to the sound of you working
You're one room right over, stressing and loving me
I know I know I know, be still my love
The same as I love you, you'll always love me too
This love isn't good unless it's me and you
Stick your hands inside of my pockets
Keep them warm while I'm still here
Tell them this love hasn't changed me, hasn't changed me at all
Stick your heart inside of my chest
Keep it warm here while we rest
Tell them this love hasn't changed me, hasn't changed me at all
The same as I love you, you'll always love me too
This love isn't good unless it's me and you
The same as I love you, you'll always love me too
This love isn't good unless it's me and you
There's a war inside of me
Do I cause new heartbreak to write a new broken song
Do I push it down or let it run me right into the ground
I feel like I wouldn't like me if I met me
Well I can't stop talking for
Fear of listening to unwelcome sound,
And you haven't called me in weeks and honestly it's bringing me down
I feel like I wouldn't like me if I met me
I feel like you wouldn't like me if you met me
And don't you worry there's still time
And don't you worry there's still time
There's nothing to live for
when I'm sleeping alone
and I wash the windows outside
in hopes that the glare will bring you around
I feel like I wouldn't like me if I met me
I feel like you wouldn't like me if you met me
And don't you worry there's still time
And don't you worry there's still time
And don't you worry there's still time
And don't you worry there's still time
Sunshine is days away I won't be saved I know all the words
I can't say that I'll love you forever
I won't say that I'll love you forever
***
Fix You Up
And what do I, and what do I, what do I need
To do to see myself in a better mood
And what do you, and what do you, what do you need
To do to get yourself in a better mood
Well there's not a lot for you to give if you're giving in
And there's not a lot for you to feel if you're not feeling it
You bring it up and bring it in and we'll get you fixed up in no time
And what I wanted most, what I wanted most, what I wanted most
Was to get myself all figured out
And what I figured out, what I figured out, what I figured out
Was I needed more time to figure you out
Well there's not a lot for you to give if you're giving in
And there's not a lot for you to feel if you're not feeling it
You bring it up and bring it in and we'll get you fixed up in no time
Cause this love is all I have to give
This love is all I have to give
***
I Know I Know I Know
From hundreds of miles, you cry like a baby
You plead with me, shout, scream, tell me I'm staying
I know I know I know, I'm still your love
Back from the last place, that I wanted to fake
You laugh with me, shout, scream, now tell me you're staying
I know I know I know, you're still my love
The same as I love you, you'll always love me too
This love isn't good unless it's me and you
Box after box and you're still by my side
The weather is changing and breaking my stride
I know I know I know, it's just this day
House after house, just like car after car
You see club after club and it all seems so far
I know I know I know what else are we here for
The same as I love you, you'll always love me too
This love isn't good unless it's me and you
Stick your hands inside of my pockets
Keep them warm while I'm still here
Tell them this love hasn't changed me, hasn't changed me at all
Last night I was writing about you
I know my screaming and shouting won't keep you
I know I know I know, you're still my love
I wake up to the sound of you working
You're one room right over, stressing and loving me
I know I know I know, be still my love
The same as I love you, you'll always love me too
This love isn't good unless it's me and you
Stick your hands inside of my pockets
Keep them warm while I'm still here
Tell them this love hasn't changed me, hasn't changed me at all
Stick your heart inside of my chest
Keep it warm here while we rest
Tell them this love hasn't changed me, hasn't changed me at all
The same as I love you, you'll always love me too
This love isn't good unless it's me and you
The same as I love you, you'll always love me too
This love isn't good unless it's me and you
Saturday, May 07, 2005
032: Mood Sensing iPod, Constatine?, and Red Green Hot Chili Pepper
Waking up in the early afternoon, like 2:00, can put a damper on one’s day. Not that I had anything plan for today, but I lost the whole entire morning of scratching my head and twiddling my thumbs as to figure out what I should do with myself. But alas, I had this one errand, which I had pushed back to do on Monday, that I decided to do today, and the errand being a fun trip to the post office. With my white earphones in place and iPod in shuffle mode, I leave my apartment.
Because I tend to be very goal oriented, I made it a priority to go to the post office immediately, not thinking about the consequence of what I should do afterwards. Smart individuals would have stretched out the task, doing other mindless things in between, while still having a set goal in mind, and ending the day fulfilled for having finished a task last. Instead, I had to finish the task first, ending up feeling unsure of what I should do next and unfulfilled to boot, leading me to wander around the streets aimlessly, in search of something I don’t know what.
Somehow I find myself inside a subway car. Since it’s heading into Manhattan, might as well I should go shopping for clothes. And Herald Square is as a good destination for shopping as any. I change trains at 74th Street – Roosevelt Avenue. As I get on the F train, I scan the car for a place to sit. There are empty seats, but the last thing you want to do is to sit in between two people, so I opt to stand.
Finding a spot next to the sliding doors, I scan the car once again. Lo and behold I see before me an object of my desire (OMD). I feel breathless, numb, even. At that moment I’m in love (although I don’t believe in love—but, that’s another topic). As Pink Floyd’s Comfortably Numb plays in my iPod, I take a glance, and then another. OMD seems to be alone. I feel hot; I feel flushed; I feel high. I peak another glance this time through the reflection on the train’s window.
No, no, damn it! OMD is talking to him. OMD is with someone else!
Along with my realization that OMD is taken, Dido’s Don’t Think of Me starts.
As I try to make peace with my brief, one-sided love affair, Dido croons on.
And near the song’s end, the train stops at Lexington Avenue, and OMD and the boyfriend get off—gone forever.
Good bye, OMD, good bye. The next song begins—it’s a Japanese song, a song entitled 約束の季節 (Yakusoku no Kisetsu) by the Gospellers—“Sayonara…”
From our first meeting, which made me feel high and numb, like being drugged, to our brief love affair with my realization that OMD is with someone else, ending with a farewell, my iPod was strumming my pain with its fingers, singing my life with its words, killing me softly with its song. How uncanny that my iPod was reading my thoughts, my moods… it was reading ME.
***
Shopping around Herald Square has been uneventful. At H&M, the line for the changing rooms is way too long, and I can’t be bothered with it. Besides there’s nothing I want to try on. Macy’s too expensive. I hate going to the Gap.
I’m again on the streets, walking aimlessly. I head west to the river, towards Hell’s Kitchen. I don’t even get close to the river. Instead I make a right on 8th Ave., heading north. I’ve forgotten the name of a bar I went to last week, and I figure I’ll walk by it to get its name. Why not? I’ve nothing else to do.
I make a left of 46th Street and again head west. I pass by the bar, note its name, and continue on walking as far as to 10th Ave. I head up one block north to 47th and walk towards Times Square.
It’s been a fairly dull read, right? If you made it this far, I’m proud of you. If I were you, I’d have moved on to someone else’s blog or to porn.
Anyways, lo and behold, who is it that I see coming towards me? I swear to you, it’s Constatine from American Idol. He has on his trademark rock-n-roller look with a pair of shades. At first I’m like, “Oh. My. God. It’s him!” But as soon as I finish with that thought, a new one steam-rolls in. It’s a big “W” for “Whatever.” It’s not like seeing Woody Allen and Soon-Yi, which by the way I had, on a street of Upper East Side. Wait, wait. It is just like seeing Woody Allen and Soon-Yi. Because at that time, my stream of thoughts was, (1) OMG, it’s them, (2) whatever, then (3) ew. The same exact “Ew” I had as Constatine and I passed each other by. Ew, ew, ew.
***
Finally a word of advice: Koreans tend to eat a lot of green chili peppers—flesh, steamed, etc. If you’re offered some, be careful. I had a few. The first one was hot, but manageable. But with each additional pepper, the heat became unbearable. Now, I feel like dying. My inside wants to come out. There's this constant tremor along the GI tract. Ow. Ow. Ow. I feel like dying. Nevermind the "be careful" advice. Just don’t eat it. Save yourself. Don’t.
Because I tend to be very goal oriented, I made it a priority to go to the post office immediately, not thinking about the consequence of what I should do afterwards. Smart individuals would have stretched out the task, doing other mindless things in between, while still having a set goal in mind, and ending the day fulfilled for having finished a task last. Instead, I had to finish the task first, ending up feeling unsure of what I should do next and unfulfilled to boot, leading me to wander around the streets aimlessly, in search of something I don’t know what.
Somehow I find myself inside a subway car. Since it’s heading into Manhattan, might as well I should go shopping for clothes. And Herald Square is as a good destination for shopping as any. I change trains at 74th Street – Roosevelt Avenue. As I get on the F train, I scan the car for a place to sit. There are empty seats, but the last thing you want to do is to sit in between two people, so I opt to stand.
Finding a spot next to the sliding doors, I scan the car once again. Lo and behold I see before me an object of my desire (OMD). I feel breathless, numb, even. At that moment I’m in love (although I don’t believe in love—but, that’s another topic). As Pink Floyd’s Comfortably Numb plays in my iPod, I take a glance, and then another. OMD seems to be alone. I feel hot; I feel flushed; I feel high. I peak another glance this time through the reflection on the train’s window.
…I caught a fleeting glimpse,
Out of the corner of my eye…
Out of the corner of my eye…
No, no, damn it! OMD is talking to him. OMD is with someone else!
…I turned to look but it was gone.
I cannot put my finger on it now.
The child is grown, the dream is gone.
I have become comfortably numb.
I cannot put my finger on it now.
The child is grown, the dream is gone.
I have become comfortably numb.
Along with my realization that OMD is taken, Dido’s Don’t Think of Me starts.
so you're with her
not with me
I hope she's sweet
and so pretty…
not with me
I hope she's sweet
and so pretty…
As I try to make peace with my brief, one-sided love affair, Dido croons on.
when you see her sweet smile baby
don't think of me
and when she lays in your warm arms
don't think of me
and it's too late
and it's too bad
don't think of me
and it's too late
and it's too bad
don't think of me...
don't think of me
and when she lays in your warm arms
don't think of me
and it's too late
and it's too bad
don't think of me
and it's too late
and it's too bad
don't think of me...
And near the song’s end, the train stops at Lexington Avenue, and OMD and the boyfriend get off—gone forever.
Good bye, OMD, good bye. The next song begins—it’s a Japanese song, a song entitled 約束の季節 (Yakusoku no Kisetsu) by the Gospellers—“Sayonara…”
From our first meeting, which made me feel high and numb, like being drugged, to our brief love affair with my realization that OMD is with someone else, ending with a farewell, my iPod was strumming my pain with its fingers, singing my life with its words, killing me softly with its song. How uncanny that my iPod was reading my thoughts, my moods… it was reading ME.
***
Shopping around Herald Square has been uneventful. At H&M, the line for the changing rooms is way too long, and I can’t be bothered with it. Besides there’s nothing I want to try on. Macy’s too expensive. I hate going to the Gap.
I’m again on the streets, walking aimlessly. I head west to the river, towards Hell’s Kitchen. I don’t even get close to the river. Instead I make a right on 8th Ave., heading north. I’ve forgotten the name of a bar I went to last week, and I figure I’ll walk by it to get its name. Why not? I’ve nothing else to do.
I make a left of 46th Street and again head west. I pass by the bar, note its name, and continue on walking as far as to 10th Ave. I head up one block north to 47th and walk towards Times Square.
It’s been a fairly dull read, right? If you made it this far, I’m proud of you. If I were you, I’d have moved on to someone else’s blog or to porn.
Anyways, lo and behold, who is it that I see coming towards me? I swear to you, it’s Constatine from American Idol. He has on his trademark rock-n-roller look with a pair of shades. At first I’m like, “Oh. My. God. It’s him!” But as soon as I finish with that thought, a new one steam-rolls in. It’s a big “W” for “Whatever.” It’s not like seeing Woody Allen and Soon-Yi, which by the way I had, on a street of Upper East Side. Wait, wait. It is just like seeing Woody Allen and Soon-Yi. Because at that time, my stream of thoughts was, (1) OMG, it’s them, (2) whatever, then (3) ew. The same exact “Ew” I had as Constatine and I passed each other by. Ew, ew, ew.
***
Finally a word of advice: Koreans tend to eat a lot of green chili peppers—flesh, steamed, etc. If you’re offered some, be careful. I had a few. The first one was hot, but manageable. But with each additional pepper, the heat became unbearable. Now, I feel like dying. My inside wants to come out. There's this constant tremor along the GI tract. Ow. Ow. Ow. I feel like dying. Nevermind the "be careful" advice. Just don’t eat it. Save yourself. Don’t.
Thursday, May 05, 2005
031: NARUTO Revisted
In honor of Children's Day, both in Korea and Japan, I like to take this opportunity to share the joy of my inner child with you all. May you all unleash your inner child today.
So, continuing on from my last pathetic entry with another, I bring you, again, Naruto. This time episode 133. I just finished watching it. And well...
Holy. Mother. Of. Fantabulous. Kick-Ass. Mama-Said-Knock-You-Out. Fight!
It’s the best opening fight scene, ever! Naruto goes all Super Saiyajin and poor, misguided Sasuke has no chance whatsoever. With Sasuke cornered, Naruto gently—considering the several knock out blows Sasuke received before, a few light punches here and there could be considered gentle—again, Naruto gently cajoles Sasuke to return to the village.
Then, oh-woe-of-all-woes, a common affliction found in almost all Asian T.V. shows, we must endure a long-winded, melo-est of melo-dramatic scene.
Cue the sappy music.
Revert back to tension-filled, highly percussive music.
The fight resumes.
And… Holy. Mother. Of. Fantabulous. Kick-Ass. Mama-Said-Shut-The-Fuck-Up. Fight. Of. Fights.
If you’ve thought Naruto had gone Super Saiyajin in the beginning of the episode, you and I both have made a gravest mistake. Because you gots to see it to believe. And by the way, Sasuke turns Super Saiyaiman as well.
Holy. Mother. Of. It's. So. Damn. Fucking. Good.
(My apologies for my profanity.)
So, continuing on from my last pathetic entry with another, I bring you, again, Naruto. This time episode 133. I just finished watching it. And well...
Holy. Mother. Of. Fantabulous. Kick-Ass. Mama-Said-Knock-You-Out. Fight!
It’s the best opening fight scene, ever! Naruto goes all Super Saiyajin and poor, misguided Sasuke has no chance whatsoever. With Sasuke cornered, Naruto gently—considering the several knock out blows Sasuke received before, a few light punches here and there could be considered gentle—again, Naruto gently cajoles Sasuke to return to the village.
Then, oh-woe-of-all-woes, a common affliction found in almost all Asian T.V. shows, we must endure a long-winded, melo-est of melo-dramatic scene.
Cue the sappy music.
“What do you know about having your older brother kill every single one of your kinsmen, including your own father and mother, and leaving you alone to live?! Wouldn’t you be consumed with rage, wouldn’t you want revenge, wouldn’t you want to see your own brother suffer as I’ve suffered? What do you know about family matters?”Cue: A montage of scenes showing Naruto and Sasuke having childish and jovial repartees.
“Indeed, I do not know. But when I’m with you, Sasuke, I think…”
“…this is what it’s like having a brother.”
“It’s too late, Naruto. There’s no going back for me.”
Revert back to tension-filled, highly percussive music.
The fight resumes.
And… Holy. Mother. Of. Fantabulous. Kick-Ass. Mama-Said-Shut-The-Fuck-Up. Fight. Of. Fights.
If you’ve thought Naruto had gone Super Saiyajin in the beginning of the episode, you and I both have made a gravest mistake. Because you gots to see it to believe. And by the way, Sasuke turns Super Saiyaiman as well.
Holy. Mother. Of. It's. So. Damn. Fucking. Good.
(My apologies for my profanity.)
Monday, May 02, 2005
030: NARUTO
While living in Japan, I figured the second best way to learn vernacular Japanese (the best way being hanging out with Japanese, of course) would be to read mangas and watch a lot of animes/T.V. dramas/movies, etc. So I have been following Naruto (in the manga and anime form) even after my return to the States. Let me tell you, Naruto is fantastic! It rocks! If you haven’t seen it, what the hell is wrong with you? Stop reading this post, and go and acquaint yourself with it.
Reason One for Why I Love It So.
The show has had many different incarnations of opening and closing theme songs. If you have an eclectic taste in music as I do and are always in a lookout for good Japanese music, then check out these songs.
Reason Two for Why I Love It So.
Although Naruto can be dismissed easily by adults as made for kids, the real life issues the show tackles, the complex character developments, the occasional sexual content (with some homoerotic undertone), they all make the show more than meets the eye.
So why have I waited this long to rave about Naruto? Well, I just finished watching episode 132 (親友よ/Dear Friend), and like most episodes it’s action packed. But this last episode is special because it’s the end of the prelude to the match of all times: the fight-to-the-death duel between our hero, Naruto, and his chief rival and best friend, Sasuke. Mind you, I could just start reading the manga to find out what happens, but I want to be surprised. So, here’s what I see: there are two possible outcomes, either (1) Naruto unleashes the Nine-Tail Fox Demon that’s been trapped within him and becomes a total indestructible beast. Naruto, then, kicks Sasuke’s ass to a pulp. But when Sasuke is about to get killed, Naruto realizes that he is there to save Sasuke and aid Sasuke in winning back his soul. How the latter part will come to fruition, I have no idea. But I’m sure Masashi Kishimoto (the writer) can pull it off. Or better yet, (2) before Naruto can fully unleash the power within, Sasuke’s Curse Seal gets unlocked, releasing a powerful force that will overwhelm Naruto. Sasuke wins and Naruto gets killed. Sasuke, having fulfilled his goal to kill his closest friend, receives his blood-limit power. But wait, Naruto isn’t really dead. He has the demon inside him. He has to die for Sasuke to get his power, so technically Naruto dies, like how Buffy once died. (And as I’m writing this, I can’t but think how I feel like some dumb 13 year-old kid.) The demon inside him somehow revives him. Then we’re back to number one.
Reason Three for Why I Love It So.
I just do.
This has been the world’s worst post, ever. I’m not even sure if I want to post this. But because I’ve taken some time to write this drivel, I shall post it.
Reason One for Why I Love It So.
The show has had many different incarnations of opening and closing theme songs. If you have an eclectic taste in music as I do and are always in a lookout for good Japanese music, then check out these songs.
Reason Two for Why I Love It So.
Although Naruto can be dismissed easily by adults as made for kids, the real life issues the show tackles, the complex character developments, the occasional sexual content (with some homoerotic undertone), they all make the show more than meets the eye.
So why have I waited this long to rave about Naruto? Well, I just finished watching episode 132 (親友よ/Dear Friend), and like most episodes it’s action packed. But this last episode is special because it’s the end of the prelude to the match of all times: the fight-to-the-death duel between our hero, Naruto, and his chief rival and best friend, Sasuke. Mind you, I could just start reading the manga to find out what happens, but I want to be surprised. So, here’s what I see: there are two possible outcomes, either (1) Naruto unleashes the Nine-Tail Fox Demon that’s been trapped within him and becomes a total indestructible beast. Naruto, then, kicks Sasuke’s ass to a pulp. But when Sasuke is about to get killed, Naruto realizes that he is there to save Sasuke and aid Sasuke in winning back his soul. How the latter part will come to fruition, I have no idea. But I’m sure Masashi Kishimoto (the writer) can pull it off. Or better yet, (2) before Naruto can fully unleash the power within, Sasuke’s Curse Seal gets unlocked, releasing a powerful force that will overwhelm Naruto. Sasuke wins and Naruto gets killed. Sasuke, having fulfilled his goal to kill his closest friend, receives his blood-limit power. But wait, Naruto isn’t really dead. He has the demon inside him. He has to die for Sasuke to get his power, so technically Naruto dies, like how Buffy once died. (And as I’m writing this, I can’t but think how I feel like some dumb 13 year-old kid.) The demon inside him somehow revives him. Then we’re back to number one.
Reason Three for Why I Love It So.
I just do.
This has been the world’s worst post, ever. I’m not even sure if I want to post this. But because I’ve taken some time to write this drivel, I shall post it.
Sunday, May 01, 2005
029: Currently Loving, Part 3
It’s been a while since my last “Currently Loving” post. I also want you, the nonexistent readers, to “sample” my music. But alas, call me technologically inept, I still don’t know how to do so. Oh well. C’est la vie. Now on to my list:
MUSIC
Susie Suh: Susie Suh
While listening to NPR, a relatively new singer-songwriter, Susie Suh, was featured. As a guest, she shared about her background, her music, etc.; it was your standard interview. But in between topics, they played a few samples of her songs. Her voice, it was her voice—sultry, hypnotic—a voice reminiscent of Fiona Apple, Sarah McLachlan, Norah Jones, captivating my attention, tugging my heartstrings, taking me a little closer to an empty bank account. It was just too beautiful to pass by. Having downloaded her self-titled album from iTunes, I’m listening to her as I write this.
I’ve just check out her site, and I am a little peeved. If I had known about her a few days earlier, I could have seen her perform at Knitting Factory this past Wednesday. She was in NY! I’m always a step behind.
I can’t decide which of her songs I like the best. But as of now, I’m leaning towards Your Battlefield. It echoes my own frustrations and my own resolve to swim against the currents of others’ making:
BOOK
Reza Aslan: No god but God
It’s surprising how little I knew about Islam.
DVD
Alexander Payne: Sideways
Does anyone want to go on a winery tour with me? I know New York State is no California, but we do produce good wines. Just drive around the Finger Lakes region and sample some Rieslings, Chardonnays, even the native varietals like Cayuga Whites. Our trip for two can be called Sideways Two.
MUSIC
Susie Suh: Susie Suh
While listening to NPR, a relatively new singer-songwriter, Susie Suh, was featured. As a guest, she shared about her background, her music, etc.; it was your standard interview. But in between topics, they played a few samples of her songs. Her voice, it was her voice—sultry, hypnotic—a voice reminiscent of Fiona Apple, Sarah McLachlan, Norah Jones, captivating my attention, tugging my heartstrings, taking me a little closer to an empty bank account. It was just too beautiful to pass by. Having downloaded her self-titled album from iTunes, I’m listening to her as I write this.
I’ve just check out her site, and I am a little peeved. If I had known about her a few days earlier, I could have seen her perform at Knitting Factory this past Wednesday. She was in NY! I’m always a step behind.
I can’t decide which of her songs I like the best. But as of now, I’m leaning towards Your Battlefield. It echoes my own frustrations and my own resolve to swim against the currents of others’ making:
Someday I will ask you if I was a disappointment
I will ask you if you’ve put your hard-earned money into a bad investment
You would tell me there are no guarantees
But you got solutions for security
And I will ask you, I will ask you, how about my dreams?
But you see, life is a battlefield
You have given me arms
You say I have to fight
I have to keep moving on
Someday I will ask myself if I was disillusioned
I will ask myself if I apprehend
That I made it on my own terms
Yeah, may have suffered some burns
But I am living my dreams and I am who I want to be
I will ask you if you’ve put your hard-earned money into a bad investment
You would tell me there are no guarantees
But you got solutions for security
And I will ask you, I will ask you, how about my dreams?
But you see, life is a battlefield
You have given me arms
You say I have to fight
I have to keep moving on
Someday I will ask myself if I was disillusioned
I will ask myself if I apprehend
That I made it on my own terms
Yeah, may have suffered some burns
But I am living my dreams and I am who I want to be
BOOK
Reza Aslan: No god but God
It’s surprising how little I knew about Islam.
DVD
Alexander Payne: Sideways
Does anyone want to go on a winery tour with me? I know New York State is no California, but we do produce good wines. Just drive around the Finger Lakes region and sample some Rieslings, Chardonnays, even the native varietals like Cayuga Whites. Our trip for two can be called Sideways Two.
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