For those who aren't in the know, the term "NoLibs" refers to Northern Liberties, a section of the city located roughly in the northeastern part of Center City. NoLibs is bounded by Spring Garden Street to the south, Girard Avenue to the north, Front Street to the east, and 6th Street to the west.
Last night, after hitting up the gym for a quick leg work-out, I headed out to catch the trolley at 19th and Market Streets, then transferred to the EL at 15th Street to head eastbound up to the Spring Garden stop. I was going to meet some friends at a highly-acclaimed restaurant up that way, Bar Ferdinand, which I've been meaning to hit up for a while.
Once I got there, I realized that I really should've gotten off at the Girard stop of the EL, since Bar Ferdinand is located just a couple blocks south of Girard. But the text message that I'd gotten earlier told me that I should get off at Spring Garden; oh well, it allowed me a pleasant walking tour of NoLibs' de facto main street: 2nd Street, along which are lots of bars, restaurants, and local threads shops. Second Street there really embodies the spirit of Northern Liberties: upscale alternative urban counterculture, i.e., hipster. (By the way, please read urbandictionary's definition of "hipster" HERE, hilarious shit and so on-point!).
Bar Ferdinand was definitely very hip, nice decor, quite upscale, a lot of good-looking people. I found my friends sitting at a long table directly in front of a mosaic mural with the Black Osborne Bull of Spain (El Toro Negro; the unofficial national symbol of Spain) right in the smack-dab center of the mural; it was really nice. Since the restaurant only serves tapas -- and I ate just one (mejillones con chorizo) -- I had to stop at Rustica Pizza back on 2nd Street, closer to Fairmount, to get 3 slices of pizza to completely fill me up.
After hanging out at Lisa's for a little while -- so everyone could have a breather before going out for the night and so I could finish up my pizza -- Claire and I decided to leave to catch the EL back to Center City. After having drank a very refreshing cup of Pepsi with my pizza, though, I was determined to find another cup of Pepsi: and not merely a plastic bottle of it, but another fountain drink of Pepsi. Wow! Well, that was a long and harrowing journey that eventually led to Drinker's, where I gave up and just ordered a cola, hoping that it would be Pepsi. I asked the bartender if it was Coca-Cola or Pepsi, and to my surprise he said that it was neither, but was instead a local, Philadelphia-produced cola. After doing a quite cursory search on Google (as if you need a link to Google, right) to find out the name of this local cola, I couldn't find anything. If you know what it's called, then please let me know!
Anyway, back to today. In just a little bit, I'm heading out again to once more catch the EL. This time I'm taking the line to the eastbound (northern) terminus: Frankford Transportation Center. Mike is picking me up there and we're gonna get some eats up that way before heading back down to Center City for a couple drinks. That story to be filled out tomorrow, so check back in y'all.
Saturday, August 2, 2008
Friday, August 1, 2008
Flip-Flops
This afternoon, after work, I went to Urban Outfitters (which, incidentally, began in 1970 as a store called "The Free People's Store" right here in Philadelphia) on Walnut Street to take advantage of their sale of flip-flops: 2 pairs for $10. Considering that I've been needing to pick-up flip-flops, this turned out to be a great opportunity. I got a brown pair and a blue pair.
Afterward, in the spirit of getting some stuff that I need, I walked a block down Walnut to City Sports. I've really been in need of some athletic shorts to play basketball and work-out at the gym. I was in luck. I picked up a pair of navy blue Nike basketball shorts.
After that, I walked over to Rittenhouse Square to sit down on a bench and enjoy the really beautiful weather (mostly sunny; 88 F / 31 C). Of course, on a warm and sunny Friday evening, the park was packed with people hanging out and walking through. It was the kind of scene that really makes me happy and proud to live in the city, and so close to the park itself. After sitting and enjoying the scene for a little while, I decide to call Paul to talk to him about, among other things, our trip. We both agreed that we have some planning to do. And Paul suggested that at some point while we're over there we should rent motorcycles and just go riding through the countryside to see where we end up. I told him that I love that idea, that's what it's all about!
Well, in a little while here, I'm heading off to Northern Liberties to meet some friends. I'll let'cha know how that all pans out.
Afterward, in the spirit of getting some stuff that I need, I walked a block down Walnut to City Sports. I've really been in need of some athletic shorts to play basketball and work-out at the gym. I was in luck. I picked up a pair of navy blue Nike basketball shorts.
After that, I walked over to Rittenhouse Square to sit down on a bench and enjoy the really beautiful weather (mostly sunny; 88 F / 31 C). Of course, on a warm and sunny Friday evening, the park was packed with people hanging out and walking through. It was the kind of scene that really makes me happy and proud to live in the city, and so close to the park itself. After sitting and enjoying the scene for a little while, I decide to call Paul to talk to him about, among other things, our trip. We both agreed that we have some planning to do. And Paul suggested that at some point while we're over there we should rent motorcycles and just go riding through the countryside to see where we end up. I told him that I love that idea, that's what it's all about!
Well, in a little while here, I'm heading off to Northern Liberties to meet some friends. I'll let'cha know how that all pans out.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
A Whole Lotta Soul
The Philadelphia Soul are the 2008 Arena Football League champions after winning ArenaBowl XXII just this past Sunday. Earlier today I went with a few co-workers to the post-season victory rally held at Dilworth Plaza, located at 15th and Market Streets on the west-side of City Hall. Click HERE to see a video of this "Soulabration."
Speaking of Dilworth Plaza, there are plans to renovate it within the next couple of years. Click HERE to see a really cool virtual-reality video of what Dilworth Plaza will look like once it has been modernized.
Anyway, getting back to the Soulabration, we had a really fun time. We were within 30 meters of the stage, which means that we were within 30 meters of the likes of Jon Bon Jovi, one of the team's two co-majority owners, and Ron "Jaws" Jaworski, one of the team's minority owners. When Jaworski stepped up to the podium, the entire crowd began chanting "Jaws, Jaws, Jaws"; it was great. As an aside, though, I have to admit that I would have preferred if the crowd had chanted Jaworski's other nickname: "The Polish Rifle."
What was also amusing about the Soulabration was the abundance (and dare I say horse-beat-dead-overusage) of references to Bon Jovi song lyrics -- as applied to the Soul's 2008 season and ArenaBowl XXII victory -- made by several speakers at the podium. Here are some examples paraphrased: 'Until we actually won the championship, we had been livin' on a prayer'; 'Now that we've won the championship, we're riding out in a blaze of glory'; and several others. Needless to say, there was a lot of eye-rolling throughout the crowd.
Finally, what may have been the best part of the whole experience: during the Soulabration I stood next to a wild-eyed, fanatic, possibly homeless man, who was whipped up into a fervor throughout the entire ceremony. At moments of crowd excitement, this wild man would move his arm in a combination --"forward-football-pass"/"tomahawk-chop"-- motion. Anytime he did this, I would imitate him: the two of us vehemently gesturing with our right arm in support of our hometown champions. Hey, no one can say that I don't have soul!
Speaking of Dilworth Plaza, there are plans to renovate it within the next couple of years. Click HERE to see a really cool virtual-reality video of what Dilworth Plaza will look like once it has been modernized.
Anyway, getting back to the Soulabration, we had a really fun time. We were within 30 meters of the stage, which means that we were within 30 meters of the likes of Jon Bon Jovi, one of the team's two co-majority owners, and Ron "Jaws" Jaworski, one of the team's minority owners. When Jaworski stepped up to the podium, the entire crowd began chanting "Jaws, Jaws, Jaws"; it was great. As an aside, though, I have to admit that I would have preferred if the crowd had chanted Jaworski's other nickname: "The Polish Rifle."
What was also amusing about the Soulabration was the abundance (and dare I say horse-beat-dead-overusage) of references to Bon Jovi song lyrics -- as applied to the Soul's 2008 season and ArenaBowl XXII victory -- made by several speakers at the podium. Here are some examples paraphrased: 'Until we actually won the championship, we had been livin' on a prayer'; 'Now that we've won the championship, we're riding out in a blaze of glory'; and several others. Needless to say, there was a lot of eye-rolling throughout the crowd.
Finally, what may have been the best part of the whole experience: during the Soulabration I stood next to a wild-eyed, fanatic, possibly homeless man, who was whipped up into a fervor throughout the entire ceremony. At moments of crowd excitement, this wild man would move his arm in a combination --"forward-football-pass"/"tomahawk-chop"-- motion. Anytime he did this, I would imitate him: the two of us vehemently gesturing with our right arm in support of our hometown champions. Hey, no one can say that I don't have soul!
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
One Year Ago Today...
. . . I was in the middle of the bar examination, a three-day process on the last Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday of July 2007.
For the first two days I got a ride with a classmate to the Valley Forge Convention Center, located in King of Prussia, where I sat for the Pennsylvania bar examination. Tuesday was essay day; Wednesday was the MBE -- the Multi-State Bar Examination -- a 200-question, multiple choice bonanza: 100 questions in 3 hours in the morning, then 100 questions in 3 hours in the afternoon.
I remember sitting there in this enormous convention hall, rows upon rows of desks (i.e., picnic tables) filled with fellow test-takers, thinking to myself that this was the real deal, the culmination of a summer of anticipation, and ultimately the final psychological obstacle, after 3 years of self-sacrifice and a great deal of unhappiness, that I would soon re-enter society and begin reestablishing some self-sufficiency and, concomitantly, some self-respect. I was worn-out and depressed at being dependent. Thus, the natural nervousness that I had sitting there for the bar exam was counterbalanced, and perhaps even outweighed, by a keen sense of completion.
"It's game-time, baby," I said to my friend Mike, while slapping his hand in greeting, that first morning right as I was walking into the Convention Center. And that's how it felt to me; it reminded me of the feelings that coursed through my body before my high school and college football games, the nervous excitement I had before club meetings and public speaking experiences in college: the common factor being that I was stepping up to the stage, confident in my ability to perform under pressure and under the spotlight, and get the win no matter what.
Wednesday night, after taking the MBE earlier that day, I packed my bookbag and went to 30th Street Station to catch an Amtrak train to Trenton. My dad picked me up and I spent the night with him, so I could leave first thing on Thursday morning to drop him off at the train station (to get to work) and I could continue driving on to Somerset, New Jersey, where I sat for the essay day of the New Jersey bar examination.
Thursday was a breeze, psychologically speaking: I knew that the PA bar was behind me and this was just gonna be icing on the cake. The ambivalent feelings of the first two days shifted weight by the time I arrived in Somerset, to the point that I felt bold and quite assured, thinking to myself that I had absolutely nothing to lose. The NJ bar was administered in a huge garage, what could've easily been an airplane hangar, it was so big and absent of any spirit or comfort. But it didn't faze me because I was already looking forward to drinking a few cold beers that evening with my dad, and the certainty of that made the day itself seem like only a formal requisite that merely had to be dealt with. Despite this, I remember pulling out of the parking lot in Somerset feeling like an emancipated man, as if I had graduated again for the second time in just two months. Man, what a feeling!
And so, being very aware of others who are taking bar exams this year, I'm reflective of where I was this time last year. I'm very thankful that I passed both the PA and NJ bar exams. I'm very relieved that I was able to push through all the frustrating, helpless, and depressed times over the course of 3 years and get to where I am today. That's not to say that I've reached my final destination, because the new journey is still just beginning. But law school and the bar exam was a chapter unto itself, one that I look back on with wistful self-pity, but in the sweetness of retrospect, with a sense of pride and accomplishment, all the more so for having endured so many psychological and mental challenges.
For the first two days I got a ride with a classmate to the Valley Forge Convention Center, located in King of Prussia, where I sat for the Pennsylvania bar examination. Tuesday was essay day; Wednesday was the MBE -- the Multi-State Bar Examination -- a 200-question, multiple choice bonanza: 100 questions in 3 hours in the morning, then 100 questions in 3 hours in the afternoon.
I remember sitting there in this enormous convention hall, rows upon rows of desks (i.e., picnic tables) filled with fellow test-takers, thinking to myself that this was the real deal, the culmination of a summer of anticipation, and ultimately the final psychological obstacle, after 3 years of self-sacrifice and a great deal of unhappiness, that I would soon re-enter society and begin reestablishing some self-sufficiency and, concomitantly, some self-respect. I was worn-out and depressed at being dependent. Thus, the natural nervousness that I had sitting there for the bar exam was counterbalanced, and perhaps even outweighed, by a keen sense of completion.
"It's game-time, baby," I said to my friend Mike, while slapping his hand in greeting, that first morning right as I was walking into the Convention Center. And that's how it felt to me; it reminded me of the feelings that coursed through my body before my high school and college football games, the nervous excitement I had before club meetings and public speaking experiences in college: the common factor being that I was stepping up to the stage, confident in my ability to perform under pressure and under the spotlight, and get the win no matter what.
Wednesday night, after taking the MBE earlier that day, I packed my bookbag and went to 30th Street Station to catch an Amtrak train to Trenton. My dad picked me up and I spent the night with him, so I could leave first thing on Thursday morning to drop him off at the train station (to get to work) and I could continue driving on to Somerset, New Jersey, where I sat for the essay day of the New Jersey bar examination.
Thursday was a breeze, psychologically speaking: I knew that the PA bar was behind me and this was just gonna be icing on the cake. The ambivalent feelings of the first two days shifted weight by the time I arrived in Somerset, to the point that I felt bold and quite assured, thinking to myself that I had absolutely nothing to lose. The NJ bar was administered in a huge garage, what could've easily been an airplane hangar, it was so big and absent of any spirit or comfort. But it didn't faze me because I was already looking forward to drinking a few cold beers that evening with my dad, and the certainty of that made the day itself seem like only a formal requisite that merely had to be dealt with. Despite this, I remember pulling out of the parking lot in Somerset feeling like an emancipated man, as if I had graduated again for the second time in just two months. Man, what a feeling!
And so, being very aware of others who are taking bar exams this year, I'm reflective of where I was this time last year. I'm very thankful that I passed both the PA and NJ bar exams. I'm very relieved that I was able to push through all the frustrating, helpless, and depressed times over the course of 3 years and get to where I am today. That's not to say that I've reached my final destination, because the new journey is still just beginning. But law school and the bar exam was a chapter unto itself, one that I look back on with wistful self-pity, but in the sweetness of retrospect, with a sense of pride and accomplishment, all the more so for having endured so many psychological and mental challenges.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Resurrection
Okay, so maybe the title is a little bit dramatic. But hey, I had to get your attention somehow, right? And it does apply since I haven't checked in here for two months. Let's catch up, then!
Here's the big news hot off the presses: later this year I'm heading to southeast Asia for just under 3 weeks. My partner-in-crime is one of my very best friends, Paul. This will be our first trip together where we're both in a totally new place. Although we're only at the beginning of the planning phase -- the tickets were just reserved -- I think, for my part at least, that we'd like to try hitting all 4 accessible countries of the mainland region: Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, and Vietnam. We arrive in Bangkok, Thailand, so at least that much is known.
In the meantime, if you or anyone you know is from SE Asia or has been to SE Asia, please hook me up with some advice. As G.I. Joe said, "knowing is half the battle!" So give me knowledge, all you shiny happy people!
Finally, in a note to "Phil", who left a comment in one of my earlier posts, I'd like to report that the brown Tasso Elba Elliot Cap Toe Oxford shoes (a photo of which you can access HERE) are now completely broken in. Coincidentally enough (are there such things are coinky-dinks?), one of my co-workers today noticed the shoes and was informed, much to her delight, that I had finally conquered them. I guess you could call that a "taming of the shoe."
I'm gonna try my darndest to keep writing regularly! So please check back at your leisure (pronounce in the British manner, i.e. "lezhure", if you don't mind).
Here's the big news hot off the presses: later this year I'm heading to southeast Asia for just under 3 weeks. My partner-in-crime is one of my very best friends, Paul. This will be our first trip together where we're both in a totally new place. Although we're only at the beginning of the planning phase -- the tickets were just reserved -- I think, for my part at least, that we'd like to try hitting all 4 accessible countries of the mainland region: Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, and Vietnam. We arrive in Bangkok, Thailand, so at least that much is known.
In the meantime, if you or anyone you know is from SE Asia or has been to SE Asia, please hook me up with some advice. As G.I. Joe said, "knowing is half the battle!" So give me knowledge, all you shiny happy people!
Finally, in a note to "Phil", who left a comment in one of my earlier posts, I'd like to report that the brown Tasso Elba Elliot Cap Toe Oxford shoes (a photo of which you can access HERE) are now completely broken in. Coincidentally enough (are there such things are coinky-dinks?), one of my co-workers today noticed the shoes and was informed, much to her delight, that I had finally conquered them. I guess you could call that a "taming of the shoe."
I'm gonna try my darndest to keep writing regularly! So please check back at your leisure (pronounce in the British manner, i.e. "lezhure", if you don't mind).
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Monday, June 16, 2008
the pros & cons of cherise
Pro
- genuinely good person
- beautiful smile
- athletic, in shape
- likes to travel
- gives me easy access to West Coast
- multicultural, open to other cultures
- fun to be with
- college-educated
- comes from a good family
- my family and friends like her
- wants to have a family, i.e. children
Con
- doesn't show interest, substantively, in my career
- doesn't really like to read
- doesn't seem to show an active interest in my interests, thoughts, & beliefs
- we don't seem to communicate effectively with each other, especially to resolve disagreements
- may not be willing to settle in Philly
- doesn't seem to have any plan for employment after dancing
- is not, at the least, financially self-sufficient
- messy and disorganized, possibly sometimes affecting her responsibilities
- her free time has not coincided with my free time, so we have little quality time together
- genuinely good person
- beautiful smile
- athletic, in shape
- likes to travel
- gives me easy access to West Coast
- multicultural, open to other cultures
- fun to be with
- college-educated
- comes from a good family
- my family and friends like her
- wants to have a family, i.e. children
Con
- doesn't show interest, substantively, in my career
- doesn't really like to read
- doesn't seem to show an active interest in my interests, thoughts, & beliefs
- we don't seem to communicate effectively with each other, especially to resolve disagreements
- may not be willing to settle in Philly
- doesn't seem to have any plan for employment after dancing
- is not, at the least, financially self-sufficient
- messy and disorganized, possibly sometimes affecting her responsibilities
- her free time has not coincided with my free time, so we have little quality time together
Friday, May 23, 2008
Quick hallo!
Work has picked up again at the project. And I've picked up a couple more clients on the side. So I've been busy. Also, to be honest, I haven't had the motivation or desire to write anything in here for a while. But I figured I'd check in with this quick hallo! Perhaps there will be more to come soon. You'll just have to come back again to find out!
Friday, May 9, 2008
Finally!
For the past week my internet connection has been terribly slow if not totally non-existent. Hence my extended absence. Believe me, this wasn't intentional.
So where do I even begin now that I'm back? Well I guess I'll pick up where I left off: I'm still in the process of breaking in my new dress shoes. As I write this now, I'm looking at a well-developed scab on my right heel, marking the precise spot where my new shoe is rubbing the heck out of my skin. The breaking-in process is coming along though, and I'm still very committed to breaking them in because I'm not quite rich enough to simply go out and buy another pair at the next half-size up.
Speaking of hurting feet, I've also kept up my playing basketball. I played again last Saturday, and it was the best that I've played in years. In the last game up to 16 points, I scored about 11 or 12 of our team's points. And this is saying quite a bit when you realize that, of the five guys on the other team, three of them were around 6'4". The guy guarding me was that tall, but he couldn't guard me since I simply had the quickest first step on the court and my ball-handling skills were the best that they've been this year.
Now that my cardiovascular endurance is slowly building up now, I decided to play just a couple nights ago, i.e. this past Wednesday. Before playing, though, I made the mistake of drinking a coffee toward the end of the workday. I realized while I was playing that I felt jumpy and nervous. It wasn't until later that night that I put two and two together and figured out that the caffeine must have still been coursing through my veins when I went to play. I had more than a few shots that just didn't feel smooth, they were either too strong or they'd rim in and out of the hoop. It was frustrating at the time since I'm definitely a scorer. In the last couple of games I focused a bit more on playing good defense and grabbing as many boards as possible.
But before ending this brief recap, let me say that my best move was probably one in which I got a dish right near the hoop, on the left-hand side, with two tall guys right there (one was probably 6'5" and the other was about 6'2" with disproportionately long arms); after catching the ball, I stepped forward on my pivot foot and jumped in the air, both guys defending as if I was gonna go straight up on the left-hand side, but I angled my body to jump up right under the rim, and I reached out with my right hand to the opposite side of the rim to toss up the ball for a reverse lay-up that went right in. It was a beautiful play, and I was even complimented on it after the game.
Before I push my luck too much with this internet connection, let me close here. I'll only mention in passing that I'm heading out of town tomorrow to visit my sister in Easton, Pennsylvania, to celebrate her birthday with her. She turns 28 on the 12th of May.
Thanks for hanging in there, folks! I'll be back again as soon as I can. So until then, I'll see ya when. Regards to Jen and hi to Ken. The Flyers are gonna beat the Pens.
So where do I even begin now that I'm back? Well I guess I'll pick up where I left off: I'm still in the process of breaking in my new dress shoes. As I write this now, I'm looking at a well-developed scab on my right heel, marking the precise spot where my new shoe is rubbing the heck out of my skin. The breaking-in process is coming along though, and I'm still very committed to breaking them in because I'm not quite rich enough to simply go out and buy another pair at the next half-size up.
Speaking of hurting feet, I've also kept up my playing basketball. I played again last Saturday, and it was the best that I've played in years. In the last game up to 16 points, I scored about 11 or 12 of our team's points. And this is saying quite a bit when you realize that, of the five guys on the other team, three of them were around 6'4". The guy guarding me was that tall, but he couldn't guard me since I simply had the quickest first step on the court and my ball-handling skills were the best that they've been this year.
Now that my cardiovascular endurance is slowly building up now, I decided to play just a couple nights ago, i.e. this past Wednesday. Before playing, though, I made the mistake of drinking a coffee toward the end of the workday. I realized while I was playing that I felt jumpy and nervous. It wasn't until later that night that I put two and two together and figured out that the caffeine must have still been coursing through my veins when I went to play. I had more than a few shots that just didn't feel smooth, they were either too strong or they'd rim in and out of the hoop. It was frustrating at the time since I'm definitely a scorer. In the last couple of games I focused a bit more on playing good defense and grabbing as many boards as possible.
But before ending this brief recap, let me say that my best move was probably one in which I got a dish right near the hoop, on the left-hand side, with two tall guys right there (one was probably 6'5" and the other was about 6'2" with disproportionately long arms); after catching the ball, I stepped forward on my pivot foot and jumped in the air, both guys defending as if I was gonna go straight up on the left-hand side, but I angled my body to jump up right under the rim, and I reached out with my right hand to the opposite side of the rim to toss up the ball for a reverse lay-up that went right in. It was a beautiful play, and I was even complimented on it after the game.
Before I push my luck too much with this internet connection, let me close here. I'll only mention in passing that I'm heading out of town tomorrow to visit my sister in Easton, Pennsylvania, to celebrate her birthday with her. She turns 28 on the 12th of May.
Thanks for hanging in there, folks! I'll be back again as soon as I can. So until then, I'll see ya when. Regards to Jen and hi to Ken. The Flyers are gonna beat the Pens.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
He feels his heels are really bleeding
A couple of weeks ago I bought a brand new pair of dress shoes: brown leather Tasso Elba shoes. When I tried them on in the store, Macy's, they felt fine. I even had the salesman feel where my big toe was in the shoes to confirm that the size seemed right.
Well, the first day that I wore the shoes to work I realized not far into my 15 minute walk to work that the shoes didn't feel right. About halfway through my pedestrian commute, I began experiencing severe pain in my heels, but more particularly on my right heel. As soon as I arrived at work and took off my shoes, I realized that I was bleeding from my right heel and a good amount of skin had already been lost due to the heavy friction. But since I had bled through my sock and bled on to the shoe, I resigned myself to the fact that I would not be able to return or exchange the shoes at Macy's, bloodstained as they were.
For the past couple of weeks I had decided to wear the shoes every other day while wearing my old, beat-up and worn-in shoes on the alternate days. And although I was wearing bandages on each of my heels so that I wouldn't bleed, the shoes (again: more specifically the right shoe) still felt uncomfortably tight.
So I made the decision right before this week began to go full-force; I decided that I was going to wear these damn shoes every day until they get totally broken in. I will continue to wear the bandages on my heels until they run out; so I have about another week of heel protection. The shoes are now, relatively speaking, more broken in than before, but the key emphasis is on the phrase "relatively speaking." I figure, though, that leather can stretch, and I'm determined to continue breaking them in.
The first couple of days that I wore the new shoes, I was made fun of because I couldn't walk normally. My friend Michael said that I was walking like a stick figure: very gingerly and with unbending knees. In fact, it was taking me fully twice as long to walk to work than normal: from 15 to almost 30 minutes walking. Even now, I still have to walk a bit slower than I would like to; but maybe that'll give me a chance to enjoy the scenery, right?
I've gotten compliments on the new shoes, and the old shoes had completely worn down the outer edge of the sole, to the point of some holes in the bottom of the shoe, my point being that I'm committed to keeping the new ones and trashing the old ones. But the breaking in process goes on. You can call me the shoe-whisperer.
Well, the first day that I wore the shoes to work I realized not far into my 15 minute walk to work that the shoes didn't feel right. About halfway through my pedestrian commute, I began experiencing severe pain in my heels, but more particularly on my right heel. As soon as I arrived at work and took off my shoes, I realized that I was bleeding from my right heel and a good amount of skin had already been lost due to the heavy friction. But since I had bled through my sock and bled on to the shoe, I resigned myself to the fact that I would not be able to return or exchange the shoes at Macy's, bloodstained as they were.
For the past couple of weeks I had decided to wear the shoes every other day while wearing my old, beat-up and worn-in shoes on the alternate days. And although I was wearing bandages on each of my heels so that I wouldn't bleed, the shoes (again: more specifically the right shoe) still felt uncomfortably tight.
So I made the decision right before this week began to go full-force; I decided that I was going to wear these damn shoes every day until they get totally broken in. I will continue to wear the bandages on my heels until they run out; so I have about another week of heel protection. The shoes are now, relatively speaking, more broken in than before, but the key emphasis is on the phrase "relatively speaking." I figure, though, that leather can stretch, and I'm determined to continue breaking them in.
The first couple of days that I wore the new shoes, I was made fun of because I couldn't walk normally. My friend Michael said that I was walking like a stick figure: very gingerly and with unbending knees. In fact, it was taking me fully twice as long to walk to work than normal: from 15 to almost 30 minutes walking. Even now, I still have to walk a bit slower than I would like to; but maybe that'll give me a chance to enjoy the scenery, right?
I've gotten compliments on the new shoes, and the old shoes had completely worn down the outer edge of the sole, to the point of some holes in the bottom of the shoe, my point being that I'm committed to keeping the new ones and trashing the old ones. But the breaking in process goes on. You can call me the shoe-whisperer.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Chilly, chilly in Philly
It's a chilly night in Philly tonight. The weather forecast predicts that there may even be some frost in the northern suburbs overnight tonight. This cool spell is in contrast to the warm, sunny weather -- reminiscent of southern California or Guanacaste, Costa Rica -- that we had every day for about two weeks straight to start the month of April. But I don't mind this cool weather, because it's nice to sleep in, and I'm quite sure it won't last for long; that is to say, I'm sure the warm spring weather will return very soon.
This afternoon I was surprised to see a camera crew filming and taking photographs at my work. For a minute the camera was pointed directly at me; I couldn't help smiling devilishly. And I think it was a good day for it because I combed my hair in a very Republican fashion today: combed down from right to left with a soft (not hard) part on the right-hand side. It was very much in the style of George Clooney or Brad Pitt from Ocean's Eleven. So, you ask, was this my debut as a movie star? Unlikely. I think it was probably just the partners from the head law firm running the project documenting the size and conditions of our work site. But hey, who knows, maybe I'll have my 15 minutes of fame in a movie theater near you later this summer. I'll keep you posted on that one.
Finally tonight, for pure recording purposes, I bench pressed my body weight (185 pounds) 12 times earlier this evening. It felt pretty good.
Well, once again I have to get ready for bed early tonight. Remind me to tell you later about my new dress shoes that I've been wearing to work, and the pain and suffering attached to the process of breaking them in; more on that tomorrow. Until then, I hope you have a great hump day tomorrow! From chilly Philly, your silly Philly friend.
This afternoon I was surprised to see a camera crew filming and taking photographs at my work. For a minute the camera was pointed directly at me; I couldn't help smiling devilishly. And I think it was a good day for it because I combed my hair in a very Republican fashion today: combed down from right to left with a soft (not hard) part on the right-hand side. It was very much in the style of George Clooney or Brad Pitt from Ocean's Eleven. So, you ask, was this my debut as a movie star? Unlikely. I think it was probably just the partners from the head law firm running the project documenting the size and conditions of our work site. But hey, who knows, maybe I'll have my 15 minutes of fame in a movie theater near you later this summer. I'll keep you posted on that one.
Finally tonight, for pure recording purposes, I bench pressed my body weight (185 pounds) 12 times earlier this evening. It felt pretty good.
Well, once again I have to get ready for bed early tonight. Remind me to tell you later about my new dress shoes that I've been wearing to work, and the pain and suffering attached to the process of breaking them in; more on that tomorrow. Until then, I hope you have a great hump day tomorrow! From chilly Philly, your silly Philly friend.
Monday, April 28, 2008
Abbreviate
I've gotta keep it short tonight, because my goal this week is to really focus on getting to bed early so that, hopefully, I can actually get into work at a decent hour each day this week. As of late, my focus has shifted from weekends to weekdays, from an outward-looking perspective to an inward-looking perspective, from them to me, from seeking happiness by looking for a girl to seeking happiness by advancing my own career.
Yesterday afternoon I spent a couple of hours with Rebekka, one of Roland's friends from Germany. She had a 6-hour layover at Philadelphia International Airport (PHL), so we made and followed through on plans to meet for some of that time. We met at 30th Street Station, where she had taken the Septa R1 from the airport. From there, we took the Market-Frankford EL to 5th and Market, where we got out and walked to the National Constitution Center. Although this was technically my second time there, it was my first time to pay admission and walk through the NCC. And I've gotta say: I highly recommend that you check the place out. The introductory movie/live performance, called "Freedom Rising", was really moving and very inspiring. The other highlight was Signers' Hall, a lifesize re-creation -- in the form of bronze statues -- of the signers of the U.S. Constitution.
Anyway, I hope you had a great Monday, and may you have an even better Tuesday! From a cool, rainy, and cloudy Philadelphia: the birthplace of the United States of America.
Duty and Responsibility to Serve
With the privilege of living a comfortable, secure life in a developed and peaceful nation comes the duty and responsibility to serve one's community, whether it be the local or the global. This duty and responsibility necessarily entails the knowledge and sensitivity to do the serving -- and this in turn demands that one continue, throughout life, to self-educate in both theory (through books) and praxis (through proactive experience) in order to continually gain and promote this knowledge and sensitivity.
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Ballin'
For the second Saturday in a row, I went down to the Schuylkill River Park to play basketball. It was really good to get out and move around. I played for about two hours, about three half-court games and, at the end, one full-court game. Full-court definitely suits me well because I can use my speed and athleticism more to my advantage than I would in a half-court game. In all three of the half-court games, I had to play defense against Eric, who I'm guessing is about 6'2". This forced me to play, defensively, a forward's game: down on the block and in the paint. I don't have a problem defending down low, but I play more like a guard, so I definitely prefer to play like a two-guard on both offense and defense. In the end, though, it was another great afternoon of solid cardiovascular exercise. I certainly hope to continue the pattern of playing hoops on Saturdays.
As I've been typing all of this I've been listening to a Jamiroquai greatest hits cd that I picked-up a couple weeks ago, but only just tonight have I finally imported it into my iTunes. I really like this type of music: a fusion of funk, disco, and acid jazz. It's similar to two of my favorite groups: Los Amigos Invisibles and Tortured Soul. Here in Philly I've seen Amigos Invisibles twice live: once at the TLA back during my first year of law school with my then-girlfriend, Cherise, and again just this past autumn at World Cafe Live with my friend Park and his then-girlfriend. I came across Tortured Soul in the summer of 2006 when I happened to walk through Rittenhouse Square while they were performing for a Philadelphia Weekly summer concert series performance. They had the whole park movin' and groovin'; I loved the music.
So tonight I decided to stay in for the night. As crazy as it sounds, it's taken me a whole week to recover from last weekend's non-stop action. I did go out for a little while last night, though, just to get out of the apartment. Claire and I went to my new favorite neighborhood bar, Ten Stone, for a couple rounds. I drank three Sawtooth beers on draught and she drank a couple gin & tonics. It was cool because I was able to watch some of the Spurs-Suns game on one of their really nice tv's. I was also happy to see that my favorite waitress was working, although she was in the back almost the entire time. Anyway, Claire and I had a nice conversation talking about her job prospects and objectives, among other topics as well.
I didn't get home too late last night, and since I felt that I needed to let some of the alcohol wear off before going to bed, I took the time to finish the last 10 pages of my book, The 42nd Parallel by John Dos Passos. So earlier today, while drinking my habitual late afternoon coffee, I began my next book: Dying To Cross: The Worst Immigrant Tragedy in American History by Jorge Ramos. I'm about 30 pages into it. But it's only 173 pages long, so I'll definitely finish it up by the end of the day Monday.
Alright, folks, that's about all for now. Before signing off, though, I'd like to apprise you of a plan that I have in mind: I'd like to begin transcribing entries from my old hand-written diary into this 'ere blog that you've been so kind to read. In this way, I can record my old trips and experiences on to the world wide web, and in the process, also provide you with another source of entertainment and background characterization of yours truly. So at some point soon, you should check for a tab on the left-hand side that indicates entries from the year 2002.
Peace out from tha Illadelph! Until next time, keep it alive in the 2-1-5-!!!
As I've been typing all of this I've been listening to a Jamiroquai greatest hits cd that I picked-up a couple weeks ago, but only just tonight have I finally imported it into my iTunes. I really like this type of music: a fusion of funk, disco, and acid jazz. It's similar to two of my favorite groups: Los Amigos Invisibles and Tortured Soul. Here in Philly I've seen Amigos Invisibles twice live: once at the TLA back during my first year of law school with my then-girlfriend, Cherise, and again just this past autumn at World Cafe Live with my friend Park and his then-girlfriend. I came across Tortured Soul in the summer of 2006 when I happened to walk through Rittenhouse Square while they were performing for a Philadelphia Weekly summer concert series performance. They had the whole park movin' and groovin'; I loved the music.
So tonight I decided to stay in for the night. As crazy as it sounds, it's taken me a whole week to recover from last weekend's non-stop action. I did go out for a little while last night, though, just to get out of the apartment. Claire and I went to my new favorite neighborhood bar, Ten Stone, for a couple rounds. I drank three Sawtooth beers on draught and she drank a couple gin & tonics. It was cool because I was able to watch some of the Spurs-Suns game on one of their really nice tv's. I was also happy to see that my favorite waitress was working, although she was in the back almost the entire time. Anyway, Claire and I had a nice conversation talking about her job prospects and objectives, among other topics as well.
I didn't get home too late last night, and since I felt that I needed to let some of the alcohol wear off before going to bed, I took the time to finish the last 10 pages of my book, The 42nd Parallel by John Dos Passos. So earlier today, while drinking my habitual late afternoon coffee, I began my next book: Dying To Cross: The Worst Immigrant Tragedy in American History by Jorge Ramos. I'm about 30 pages into it. But it's only 173 pages long, so I'll definitely finish it up by the end of the day Monday.
Alright, folks, that's about all for now. Before signing off, though, I'd like to apprise you of a plan that I have in mind: I'd like to begin transcribing entries from my old hand-written diary into this 'ere blog that you've been so kind to read. In this way, I can record my old trips and experiences on to the world wide web, and in the process, also provide you with another source of entertainment and background characterization of yours truly. So at some point soon, you should check for a tab on the left-hand side that indicates entries from the year 2002.
Peace out from tha Illadelph! Until next time, keep it alive in the 2-1-5-!!!
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Just wond'rin'
Ya know, I was thinking to myself just now: what the hell am I going to write about tonight? And it got me to thinking: who the hell is reading this anyway? A rule of thumb for a writer (or also, in terms closer to me, for a lawyer) is to know your audience and to target them specifically with your form and content of communication. Well, here I'm just not too sure. If you catch a fancy to let me know that you're reading this, then give me a holler. But if you don't, then I guess we'll just have to continue our clandestine reader-writer relationship, hidden from all including the writer himself.
After I got home from work today, I ran over to the neighborhood gym for a quick work-out: back and legs. For my back I did lat pulldowns, upright rows, and reverse flies. For my legs I did leg curls and dumbell lunges. So ladies, did I mention that I live in that direction <flexing my arm while pointing in the direction of my pad>?
Enough of that, right? Well anyway, after my work-out I ran home, got changed, then ran out again to head to Continental Midtown, to meet a group of friends gathering in honor of our friend Jeff's 27th birthday, which he celebrated today. As I was about to pass through Rittenhouse Square on my way there, I saw a girl who I went to law school with, who I've randomly seen quite a bit of lately. I waved at her and said, "hello.....again" and she replied by asking "are you following me these days?" and I replied with something like "maybe, it sure seems that way." A typically lame yet practical conversation while passing someone in that situation. But I have to admit that it has been strange seeing her so much. I guess that happens occasionally in the city though.
For my fourth paragraph tonight, I'm gonna go through a story that I was reminded of -- and told everyone -- earlier this evening. While we were sitting around the brown round table, discussing whatever came to people's minds, Julie brought up a story about a friend in college who was a big eater and about the time when this guy passed out and they stuck a piece of food in his hand and underneath his nose to rouse him. Well, her story reminded me of a time in college when my good friend Lorge drank too much and passed out on the couch at our apartment at Ice House. To get him good, my roommate Puma and I came up with the idea to spray-paint his knees and bellybutton with this deep dark blue paint. It was over a week of taking showers two and three times a day that the paint finally even began to wear off. For a week Lorge looked like a smurf in his knees and bellybutton. I still have photos of that prank; man that was funny.
After I got home from work today, I ran over to the neighborhood gym for a quick work-out: back and legs. For my back I did lat pulldowns, upright rows, and reverse flies. For my legs I did leg curls and dumbell lunges. So ladies, did I mention that I live in that direction <flexing my arm while pointing in the direction of my pad>?
Enough of that, right? Well anyway, after my work-out I ran home, got changed, then ran out again to head to Continental Midtown, to meet a group of friends gathering in honor of our friend Jeff's 27th birthday, which he celebrated today. As I was about to pass through Rittenhouse Square on my way there, I saw a girl who I went to law school with, who I've randomly seen quite a bit of lately. I waved at her and said, "hello.....again" and she replied by asking "are you following me these days?" and I replied with something like "maybe, it sure seems that way." A typically lame yet practical conversation while passing someone in that situation. But I have to admit that it has been strange seeing her so much. I guess that happens occasionally in the city though.
For my fourth paragraph tonight, I'm gonna go through a story that I was reminded of -- and told everyone -- earlier this evening. While we were sitting around the brown round table, discussing whatever came to people's minds, Julie brought up a story about a friend in college who was a big eater and about the time when this guy passed out and they stuck a piece of food in his hand and underneath his nose to rouse him. Well, her story reminded me of a time in college when my good friend Lorge drank too much and passed out on the couch at our apartment at Ice House. To get him good, my roommate Puma and I came up with the idea to spray-paint his knees and bellybutton with this deep dark blue paint. It was over a week of taking showers two and three times a day that the paint finally even began to wear off. For a week Lorge looked like a smurf in his knees and bellybutton. I still have photos of that prank; man that was funny.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Comemoscas
There's a girl at my work who always walks around with her mouth open. It makes her appear really slow and dim-witted.
Earlier today I was daydreaming about what it would be like to throw a piece of popcorn into her mouth as she walked by, or maybe how funny it would be to flick a booger into her mouth before she even realized what was happening. I mean, really, when you walk around with your mouth wide open, you're just asking for it.
This girl reminded me of a character from a book I read about five years ago. Back at that time I embarked on a solo backpacking journey up the Pacific coast of Costa Rica and Nicaragua. Before leaving on my trek, I went to a bookstore in San Jose to pick-up a couple books, anticipating the need for nighttime entertainment in the many sleepy towns along the way. One of the books that I picked-up was "Lituma en los Andes", written in Spanish, by Mario Vargas Llosa. About twelve pages into the second chapter, the author describes one of the characters in this way:
Earlier today I was daydreaming about what it would be like to throw a piece of popcorn into her mouth as she walked by, or maybe how funny it would be to flick a booger into her mouth before she even realized what was happening. I mean, really, when you walk around with your mouth wide open, you're just asking for it.
This girl reminded me of a character from a book I read about five years ago. Back at that time I embarked on a solo backpacking journey up the Pacific coast of Costa Rica and Nicaragua. Before leaving on my trek, I went to a bookstore in San Jose to pick-up a couple books, anticipating the need for nighttime entertainment in the many sleepy towns along the way. One of the books that I picked-up was "Lituma en los Andes", written in Spanish, by Mario Vargas Llosa. About twelve pages into the second chapter, the author describes one of the characters in this way:
Quite coincidentally, after I had returned stateside after four months in Central America, my father gave me a book he had just finished reading. It was called "Death in the Andes" by Mario Vargas Llosa; yup, you guessed it, the English translation of the book I had read during my pilgrimage up la costa pacifica. Reading the English version, I once again revisited this memorable character: Comemoscas. Just as I do now, day in and day out, at my job, every single time I see this dumb-looking girl with her mouth wide open all the time. <flick!>"Desde nino a Pedrito Tinoco le habian dicho alunado, opa, ido, bobo, y, como siempre andaba con la boca abierta, comemoscas."
"From the time he was a boy, they had called Pedrito Tinoco half-wit, moron, dummy, simpleton, and since his mouth always hung open, they called him flycatcher, too."
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
An Unlikely Assortment
Clinton seems to have won Pennsylvania. So the Clinton-Obama battle continues for who knows how much longer. More and more I have the feeling that McCain is gonna win the presidency.
Earlier this afternoon, while walking up Locust Street, having just left Rittenhouse Square and heading home, I saw a girl riding a bicycle whom I recognized. It was a girl who I had gone on a couple dates with back in late October of last year. Of course she acted like she hadn't seen me: typical cowardice. We'd had a great couple of dates, but then she freaked out and sent me an email saying: "I think you are an amazing person. Unfortunately, I don't think I'm amazing for you." That is a direct quotation. Despite my reply to her ("as respectfully as I can say this, please don't tell me what I find amazing."), urging her to reconsider, she made it pretty clear that the wall was up and any further communication would be a waste of time. I swallowed my pride and accepted the inevitable, wondering for a while what the fuck had happened. Over time, I also accepted the hard lessons learned: that I have to slow down and keep my emotions in check next time -- even and especially when -- I meet a great girl, that I have to hide my cards a bit in spite of my innate instinct to always be upfront and honest, and that getting a girl from law school is a long shot due to the lawyer's tendency to choose a guy based on his employer, resume, and/or parents' name (i.e., the typical competitiveness that is bred in law school). Anyway, bringing this back to today's chance observation, seeing this girl definitely brought up a feeling of resentment. And, once again, a reminder of the hard lessons learned the hard way.
Later this evening, while waiting for my clothes in the dryer at the laundromat, I walked down to the Schuylkill River. The sun was setting and there was a warm, auburn hue to the clouds. I sat down on a bench overlooking the water and read some of my book, The 42nd Parallel, book one of the U.S.A. trilogy, by John Dos Passos. The surface of the river was shining and rippling and the air was comfortably cool. Behind me a long train sluggishly crawled by on the tracks immediately alongside the riverside park, pulling away, boxcar after boxcar, clanging and clanking until fading off toward the south, to the train depot.
The Philadelphia Flyers won game 7 against the Washington Capitals, thereby winning the series. Game 1 against the Montreal Canadiens is this Thursday. Go Flyers!
Earlier this afternoon, while walking up Locust Street, having just left Rittenhouse Square and heading home, I saw a girl riding a bicycle whom I recognized. It was a girl who I had gone on a couple dates with back in late October of last year. Of course she acted like she hadn't seen me: typical cowardice. We'd had a great couple of dates, but then she freaked out and sent me an email saying: "I think you are an amazing person. Unfortunately, I don't think I'm amazing for you." That is a direct quotation. Despite my reply to her ("as respectfully as I can say this, please don't tell me what I find amazing."), urging her to reconsider, she made it pretty clear that the wall was up and any further communication would be a waste of time. I swallowed my pride and accepted the inevitable, wondering for a while what the fuck had happened. Over time, I also accepted the hard lessons learned: that I have to slow down and keep my emotions in check next time -- even and especially when -- I meet a great girl, that I have to hide my cards a bit in spite of my innate instinct to always be upfront and honest, and that getting a girl from law school is a long shot due to the lawyer's tendency to choose a guy based on his employer, resume, and/or parents' name (i.e., the typical competitiveness that is bred in law school). Anyway, bringing this back to today's chance observation, seeing this girl definitely brought up a feeling of resentment. And, once again, a reminder of the hard lessons learned the hard way.
Later this evening, while waiting for my clothes in the dryer at the laundromat, I walked down to the Schuylkill River. The sun was setting and there was a warm, auburn hue to the clouds. I sat down on a bench overlooking the water and read some of my book, The 42nd Parallel, book one of the U.S.A. trilogy, by John Dos Passos. The surface of the river was shining and rippling and the air was comfortably cool. Behind me a long train sluggishly crawled by on the tracks immediately alongside the riverside park, pulling away, boxcar after boxcar, clanging and clanking until fading off toward the south, to the train depot.
The Philadelphia Flyers won game 7 against the Washington Capitals, thereby winning the series. Game 1 against the Montreal Canadiens is this Thursday. Go Flyers!
Monday, April 21, 2008
Dissection of a Candidate's Claim
On one of these political commercials, a local Philadelphia candidate (I believe it's John Dougherty) says, "I won't give up until crime is down."
Here's my response: So if I'm hearing you correctly, if crime goes down, then right then and there, you'll just give up, right? It won't matter what other issues are confronting the city at that time, you'll stop getting out of bed in the morning once crime goes down.
Which leads to the next logical conclusion: this guy doesn't really expect crime to go down, because if he truly did, then his campaign would reflect his striving -- once crime goes down -- for an unfulfilling job, and this defies logic and human nature.
Here's my response: So if I'm hearing you correctly, if crime goes down, then right then and there, you'll just give up, right? It won't matter what other issues are confronting the city at that time, you'll stop getting out of bed in the morning once crime goes down.
Which leads to the next logical conclusion: this guy doesn't really expect crime to go down, because if he truly did, then his campaign would reflect his striving -- once crime goes down -- for an unfulfilling job, and this defies logic and human nature.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Weekend Recapitulation
Friday. Paul came into town from New York. We went to dinner at The Striped Bass. I ate the black sea bass, with crispy yucca, lemon-garlic vinaigrette, and pickled vegetables. The food was good. We went to Alfa for drinks. We drank a couple rounds of beers. There were several good-looking girls there. We went to Vango. We stayed on the main floor for a little while. We went up to the roofdeck, a.k.a., skybar. The view of the surrounding Center City skyscrapers was amazing. We tried to go to G-Lounge. But because I was wearing sneakers, hip though they are, we were not let in. We went to The Walnut Room. We drank a couple rounds of beers. I ended up meeting a very good-looking girl right before we left.
Saturday. Evan drove up from Baltimore. We caught up while I ate breakfast: vanilla clusters with almonds cereal. We walked down to the courts at the Schuylkill River Park, just down at the end of Spruce Street. We shot around for a while. Eventually, several of my co-workers came: James, his brother Pat, and Jeff. Paul came later. And my friend Mike ended up coming too. Eric, another co-worker, showed up at the very end. I ran full-court for over two hours. I had a few flashes of my former brilliance. Despite some obvious rustiness, I'd say that overall I was impressed that I was able to hold up and run for so long. Evan, Paul, and I returned to my place to take turns showering up. We drove down to Citizens Bank Park to meet our friend Bill for the Phillies-Mets game. After having been out in the sun for two hours, playing full-court basketball, I was totally exhausted. I barely made conversation at the baseball game due to my lack of energy. We had amazing seats: just 20 rows directly, and I mean directly, behind home plate. Thanks for the tickets Bill! Unfortunately the Phillies lost by a score of 4-2. It was annoying how there were so many Mets fans cheering at the game. At some point someone was thrown out of the game for apparently starting a fight. Paul left immediately after the game to drive back to Hoboken. Bill drove Evan and I back to Rittenhouse. The three of us had dinner at Ten Stone. Then Bill left. Over the course of the rest of the night, Evan and I ended up bar-hopping: The Black Sheep, then Misconduct Tavern, then Loie, then Pulse. Although I had been running on empty since the baseball game, I somehow managed to stay out until 4 in the morning. After we left Pulse at 3:15am, we went to Tower Style Pizza for some late-night slices. We were back at my place and I finally crashed at 4:15am.
Sunday. I woke up at 12 noon. I cleaned up a bit around the apartment. I spent a good part of the afternoon just dozing on the couch while watching auto racing then the Lakers-Nuggets game on the television. Later I got up and out to do one load of laundry and food-shopping at Trader Joe's. While walking to the laundromat, I ran into the now-unemployed and homeless former attendant at my last laundromat, which recently closed down so that the owner could convert the property into a nail salon. I offered to take Al to the market with me so I could buy him a drink and some food. He took me up on my offer. I told him to pick out whatever he'd like and I'd buy it. He chose milk and ice cream. We walked back toward my place. He waited while I went upstairs to unload the groceries. We returned to the laundromat so I could transfer the clothes from the washer to the dryer. We walked out. I went to visit my friend Claire. Al went to sit down in Fitler Square. Claire and I hung out for a little while. I had to pick up a movie, "I Am Legend", from her that she wanted me to return on her behalf to our co-worker Ken, with whom she no longer works due to a general lay-off at our project just over a week ago. I also had to pick up a couple of cd's that I had lent her: "un dia normal" by Juanes and "The Venezuelan Zinga Son, Vol. 1" by Los Amigos Invisibles.
The weekend has now been recapitulated. Consider yourself updated. Guan and have a good week now, ya heard?
Saturday. Evan drove up from Baltimore. We caught up while I ate breakfast: vanilla clusters with almonds cereal. We walked down to the courts at the Schuylkill River Park, just down at the end of Spruce Street. We shot around for a while. Eventually, several of my co-workers came: James, his brother Pat, and Jeff. Paul came later. And my friend Mike ended up coming too. Eric, another co-worker, showed up at the very end. I ran full-court for over two hours. I had a few flashes of my former brilliance. Despite some obvious rustiness, I'd say that overall I was impressed that I was able to hold up and run for so long. Evan, Paul, and I returned to my place to take turns showering up. We drove down to Citizens Bank Park to meet our friend Bill for the Phillies-Mets game. After having been out in the sun for two hours, playing full-court basketball, I was totally exhausted. I barely made conversation at the baseball game due to my lack of energy. We had amazing seats: just 20 rows directly, and I mean directly, behind home plate. Thanks for the tickets Bill! Unfortunately the Phillies lost by a score of 4-2. It was annoying how there were so many Mets fans cheering at the game. At some point someone was thrown out of the game for apparently starting a fight. Paul left immediately after the game to drive back to Hoboken. Bill drove Evan and I back to Rittenhouse. The three of us had dinner at Ten Stone. Then Bill left. Over the course of the rest of the night, Evan and I ended up bar-hopping: The Black Sheep, then Misconduct Tavern, then Loie, then Pulse. Although I had been running on empty since the baseball game, I somehow managed to stay out until 4 in the morning. After we left Pulse at 3:15am, we went to Tower Style Pizza for some late-night slices. We were back at my place and I finally crashed at 4:15am.
Sunday. I woke up at 12 noon. I cleaned up a bit around the apartment. I spent a good part of the afternoon just dozing on the couch while watching auto racing then the Lakers-Nuggets game on the television. Later I got up and out to do one load of laundry and food-shopping at Trader Joe's. While walking to the laundromat, I ran into the now-unemployed and homeless former attendant at my last laundromat, which recently closed down so that the owner could convert the property into a nail salon. I offered to take Al to the market with me so I could buy him a drink and some food. He took me up on my offer. I told him to pick out whatever he'd like and I'd buy it. He chose milk and ice cream. We walked back toward my place. He waited while I went upstairs to unload the groceries. We returned to the laundromat so I could transfer the clothes from the washer to the dryer. We walked out. I went to visit my friend Claire. Al went to sit down in Fitler Square. Claire and I hung out for a little while. I had to pick up a movie, "I Am Legend", from her that she wanted me to return on her behalf to our co-worker Ken, with whom she no longer works due to a general lay-off at our project just over a week ago. I also had to pick up a couple of cd's that I had lent her: "un dia normal" by Juanes and "The Venezuelan Zinga Son, Vol. 1" by Los Amigos Invisibles.
The weekend has now been recapitulated. Consider yourself updated. Guan and have a good week now, ya heard?
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Solitaire
I just got back in from going out tonight. It was really good to catch-up with Paul. But I'm left with a feeling of emptiness after the conversation we had over dinner and the ensuing course of events over the rest of the night. As an aside, I'm surprised that I'm able to express myself thus far due to having drank several beers tonight.
I feel empty because I'm alone right now. I'm typing into my computer at 2 in the morning, while listening to the album "Things Fall Apart" by The Roots. Perhaps the title of that album is appropriate. Tonight, as I have felt for a while now, I was in no mood to talk to mediocre girls. My tolerance is especially low. I mean, what's the fucking point? Sure, I've talked to plenty of good-looking girls. But where is the substance? Where is the girl who I can truly call my equal? Where the fuck are they?
In my state of mild inebriation, I'll go ahead and admit a couple things here and now. Earlier tonight, a group of four girls approached me and began to rub their hands on my chest; they were impressed with my pectoral muscles. By writing this am I showing off right now? Sure. But what does it matter? It seems apparent that I work-out for no one's benefit but my own. No one sees the fruits of my labor, physical or otherwise. The main girl who was showing me attention just annoyed the fuck out of me. She was a Persian girl, not bad-looking at all, but my gut just told me that she was a waste of time. She said that she was a psychic, and somehow predicted successfully that I have a tattoo. Great, I thought to myself, can you predict when I will actually meet a girl that I'm attracted to who will likewise be attracted to me?
It's all really pointless. The only girl who I'm really, totally in to these days is totally inaccessible, already dating someone else, and my credentials come nowhere close to his, because for me to do so would mean to delete my educational degrees, height, intelligence, and any number of other factors. This kind of thing deeply demoralizes me. It makes me believe that I'm either too good or -- what I really think is the case -- I'm not "normal" or "average" enough for any girls. And ultimately, when I reflect upon this situation, I realize that it makes me feel that I'm being arrogant and condescending, which only makes me feel shittier about myself.
Fine, I'll go to sleep now. And I'll wake up tomorrow feeling optimistic again, right. But how long can I go on deceiving myself? Am I really destined to be alone? Or, to be realistic, am I truly destined to end up with some hot girl who is as empty as a poor man's cookie jar? Should I accept my destiny as having to fuck the shit out of a hot girl, who simultaneously has no interest in a single book I read, no interest in my career as a lawyer, no interest in my heart and soul, no interest in the thoughts that constantly course through my head?
Right now, I hate every fucking girl who exists. You can all go to hell. You can all strive for mediocrity. You can all chase your dreams while ignoring the need to be with a man. And in a year or two years or five years or ten years, you can all curse yourselves for having your head up your ass for so long.
Yeah, you better believe I feel bitter at 2:11 in the morning, after going out on the town tonight. Water, water everywhere, but not a drop to drink. I feel that I'm too good and, at the same time, not good enough for anyone. And yet, I'm still too stubborn to ever fucking settle. That shit's not gonna happen, and you can take that shit to the bank.
I end this while listening to "You Got Me" by The Roots. And despite all my bitterness and frustration, I dream for the day that a girl will actually feel the words of this song, and sing it to me in her own words, from her own heart, to me, to my heart, to my soul, while looking deep into my eyes:
I feel empty because I'm alone right now. I'm typing into my computer at 2 in the morning, while listening to the album "Things Fall Apart" by The Roots. Perhaps the title of that album is appropriate. Tonight, as I have felt for a while now, I was in no mood to talk to mediocre girls. My tolerance is especially low. I mean, what's the fucking point? Sure, I've talked to plenty of good-looking girls. But where is the substance? Where is the girl who I can truly call my equal? Where the fuck are they?
In my state of mild inebriation, I'll go ahead and admit a couple things here and now. Earlier tonight, a group of four girls approached me and began to rub their hands on my chest; they were impressed with my pectoral muscles. By writing this am I showing off right now? Sure. But what does it matter? It seems apparent that I work-out for no one's benefit but my own. No one sees the fruits of my labor, physical or otherwise. The main girl who was showing me attention just annoyed the fuck out of me. She was a Persian girl, not bad-looking at all, but my gut just told me that she was a waste of time. She said that she was a psychic, and somehow predicted successfully that I have a tattoo. Great, I thought to myself, can you predict when I will actually meet a girl that I'm attracted to who will likewise be attracted to me?
It's all really pointless. The only girl who I'm really, totally in to these days is totally inaccessible, already dating someone else, and my credentials come nowhere close to his, because for me to do so would mean to delete my educational degrees, height, intelligence, and any number of other factors. This kind of thing deeply demoralizes me. It makes me believe that I'm either too good or -- what I really think is the case -- I'm not "normal" or "average" enough for any girls. And ultimately, when I reflect upon this situation, I realize that it makes me feel that I'm being arrogant and condescending, which only makes me feel shittier about myself.
Fine, I'll go to sleep now. And I'll wake up tomorrow feeling optimistic again, right. But how long can I go on deceiving myself? Am I really destined to be alone? Or, to be realistic, am I truly destined to end up with some hot girl who is as empty as a poor man's cookie jar? Should I accept my destiny as having to fuck the shit out of a hot girl, who simultaneously has no interest in a single book I read, no interest in my career as a lawyer, no interest in my heart and soul, no interest in the thoughts that constantly course through my head?
Right now, I hate every fucking girl who exists. You can all go to hell. You can all strive for mediocrity. You can all chase your dreams while ignoring the need to be with a man. And in a year or two years or five years or ten years, you can all curse yourselves for having your head up your ass for so long.
Yeah, you better believe I feel bitter at 2:11 in the morning, after going out on the town tonight. Water, water everywhere, but not a drop to drink. I feel that I'm too good and, at the same time, not good enough for anyone. And yet, I'm still too stubborn to ever fucking settle. That shit's not gonna happen, and you can take that shit to the bank.
I end this while listening to "You Got Me" by The Roots. And despite all my bitterness and frustration, I dream for the day that a girl will actually feel the words of this song, and sing it to me in her own words, from her own heart, to me, to my heart, to my soul, while looking deep into my eyes:
If you were worried 'bout where
I been, or who I saw or,
what club I went to with my homies,
baby, don't worry, you know that you got me.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Yo Samaritan!
There are only 2 days left to vote in the poll. If you haven't already done so, then be sure to do so, so that way you have done it already and it'll be done for sure.
Earlier this afternoon I stepped outside of my office building with Eric, Jeff, and Dave to meet Claire outside. She was coming by to drop-off the movie "Falling Down," which she had borrowed from Ken. While standing at the corner of 18th and Arch, an old woman walking with a cane approached us. She mentioned something about the bus having just passed by, and asked when the next bus would be coming. Since I had some difficulty hearing what she was saying, I leaned closer to her in order to answer her question. Then she told me that she was blind (I assume only partially so) and asked me if I would walk her across the street. So I offered her my arm and we walked across Arch Street together. When we reached the other side, I told her that there was some shade just a little way up the sidewalk -- responding to her comments about the strength of the sun and how it bothered her. Then I jogged back across to the group, now standing at the southern entrance of the Bell Atlantic Tower, and resumed my part in our conversation.
So did you vote in the poll yet? You really should, ya know.
Yo Samaritin, a couple Claritin & some air wit' 'em,
if you sharin' 'em wit' Claire & them.
Earlier this afternoon I stepped outside of my office building with Eric, Jeff, and Dave to meet Claire outside. She was coming by to drop-off the movie "Falling Down," which she had borrowed from Ken. While standing at the corner of 18th and Arch, an old woman walking with a cane approached us. She mentioned something about the bus having just passed by, and asked when the next bus would be coming. Since I had some difficulty hearing what she was saying, I leaned closer to her in order to answer her question. Then she told me that she was blind (I assume only partially so) and asked me if I would walk her across the street. So I offered her my arm and we walked across Arch Street together. When we reached the other side, I told her that there was some shade just a little way up the sidewalk -- responding to her comments about the strength of the sun and how it bothered her. Then I jogged back across to the group, now standing at the southern entrance of the Bell Atlantic Tower, and resumed my part in our conversation.
So did you vote in the poll yet? You really should, ya know.
Yo Samaritin, a couple Claritin & some air wit' 'em,
if you sharin' 'em wit' Claire & them.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Hello.
It's been a week since my last post. I know, I know, I've been lax in my updates. Well, the reason for this is that the past week has been largely unremarkable, with the only highlights being quite personal. Perhaps in a way my motivation to post updates goes in and out like the tide. In this way I believe it's quite cyclical.
As far as the unremarkable goes, I'll simply remark that work has been practically non-existent. That is to say that I appear at work and remain physically present on the premises. But very little work has been demanded of me, or any of my other co-workers for that matter.
As far as the personal goes, well, it would no longer be personal if I wrote about it here, now would it? I'll merely offer this: has Aleida arrived?
Well, tomorrow is Thursday, which is a good day, since it's the day before Friday. And the weather should be perfectly splendid. Pura vida!
As far as the unremarkable goes, I'll simply remark that work has been practically non-existent. That is to say that I appear at work and remain physically present on the premises. But very little work has been demanded of me, or any of my other co-workers for that matter.
As far as the personal goes, well, it would no longer be personal if I wrote about it here, now would it? I'll merely offer this: has Aleida arrived?
Well, tomorrow is Thursday, which is a good day, since it's the day before Friday. And the weather should be perfectly splendid. Pura vida!
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Lost without Lost
Ever since getting back from Egypt and Europe, I've been trying periodically to watch the two episodes of Lost that I missed while I was away. Of course I've had no luck. I'll log-on to abc.com, then click to watch full episodes; I'll choose the first episode that I missed, and then, hopefully enough, a commercial plays, and I always think, good, here we go. But after the commercial plays, the computer always gets stuck loading the episode. Perhaps my connection is not that good or fast. Or maybe I just have bad luck getting the things that I really want. I'm really not sure what it is. But it's annoying. And I'd really like to watch the two missed episodes before the next new episode airs on April 24th. The way things have been going though, I shouldn't expect to catch-up at all. Anyway, I'm sure this post doesn't make your day any better, but I had to write about something. And that's what's on my mind tonight. So there.
Sunday, April 6, 2008
Green eggs and ham
My head is scrambled today because I went out last night with my new upstairs neighbors. We pre-gamed up in their apartment by eating some pizza and drinking a few beers. Then we went to The Mansion, at the corner of 19th and Sansom. I played a really close game of pool with the guy, Corey, as soon as we got there. After that, I drank a few gin & tonics, and mingled with the crowd. So today I'm feeling das efx. Seacrest out.
Friday, April 4, 2008
Shedding my skin
Rain dripped from the skies on to my head as I walked; it characterized what was said after I talked.
I realize tonight, what goes around comes around; I once was lost, and I'm still not found; I hear my destiny but I'm still not sound; though the king has arrived, I'm still not crowned.
I rolled the dice and it didn't suffice regardless of how nice I could be. I realize that it's no surprise that, once again, I see snake-eyes. It bites my ass, as the illusion shatters like glass, and ain't that crass?
I was deserted in the desert, then dissed and was dissed in the two-one-fifth. I miss what's yet to be; and my being is yet to be missed.
Allow me to follow my sorrow and wallow for just one night. 'Cause the sun will come again, and that's when I'll be alright, a'ight!
I realize tonight, what goes around comes around; I once was lost, and I'm still not found; I hear my destiny but I'm still not sound; though the king has arrived, I'm still not crowned.
I rolled the dice and it didn't suffice regardless of how nice I could be. I realize that it's no surprise that, once again, I see snake-eyes. It bites my ass, as the illusion shatters like glass, and ain't that crass?
I was deserted in the desert, then dissed and was dissed in the two-one-fifth. I miss what's yet to be; and my being is yet to be missed.
Allow me to follow my sorrow and wallow for just one night. 'Cause the sun will come again, and that's when I'll be alright, a'ight!
Thursday, April 3, 2008
April showers bring May flowers
That old adage seems to be holding true, at least judging so far from all the steady rain that we've been getting. Last I checked, it's supposed to keep raining through Saturday morning. As long as high temperatures continue to hang around the high-50's or even low-60's, and we eventually get those May flowers as promised, then I'll be happy.
Another thing that's already making me happy now, though, is the fact that some of the trees are already starting to blossom:
Whoa!!! Have a wonderful Friday, y'all! (photo source)
Another thing that's already making me happy now, though, is the fact that some of the trees are already starting to blossom:
Whoa!!! Have a wonderful Friday, y'all! (photo source)
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
Take me out to the ballgame
Let's bring this blog back down to a less stressful topic. I realize that the last two posts have been on serious issues. "I'm not preaching bullshit, just speaking my mind" (penultimate line in "The Update" on Ill Communication by the Beastie Boys). But as important as it is to speak one's mind sometimes, it's just as important to sometimes not take things too seriously either.
On that note, I'd like to report that I went to Phillies opening night tonight at Citizens Bank Park, down in South Philadelphia. Of course, in typical Phillies fashion, they lost their opening night game, by a score of 1-0 to the Washington Nationals. I say this because it seems that every season the Phillies get off to a really slow start, then somehow start to build up steam as the season goes on. Although that kind of season can make for some great drama and excitement towards the end of the season, it serves -- at the beginning of the season -- to feed into the stereotypical Philly pessimism and "underdog-ness."
So, in spite of the almost expected Phillies loss today, it was great to watch a game down at Citizens Bank Park. It really is a very well-designed ballpark, and by that I mean that every seat in the house -- even in the nosebleeds -- offers a great view of the field and puts you right on top of the game.
To top things off tonight, it was dollar dog night, meaning that hot dogs only cost $1 each. And best of all, everyone got a free Phillies t-shirt for attending opening night.
On that note, I'd like to report that I went to Phillies opening night tonight at Citizens Bank Park, down in South Philadelphia. Of course, in typical Phillies fashion, they lost their opening night game, by a score of 1-0 to the Washington Nationals. I say this because it seems that every season the Phillies get off to a really slow start, then somehow start to build up steam as the season goes on. Although that kind of season can make for some great drama and excitement towards the end of the season, it serves -- at the beginning of the season -- to feed into the stereotypical Philly pessimism and "underdog-ness."
So, in spite of the almost expected Phillies loss today, it was great to watch a game down at Citizens Bank Park. It really is a very well-designed ballpark, and by that I mean that every seat in the house -- even in the nosebleeds -- offers a great view of the field and puts you right on top of the game.
To top things off tonight, it was dollar dog night, meaning that hot dogs only cost $1 each. And best of all, everyone got a free Phillies t-shirt for attending opening night.
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
English-only laws = Bad & Wrong
At work earlier today I got into a discussion with a teammate about the issue of language rights and the status of English -- and other languages, particularly Spanish -- in (North) American society. She asserted the position that immigrants should be mandated by law to learn the English language. I asserted the position that the law should never be used to codify any aspect of the dominant culture, including language, because to do so would infringe upon a person's freedom of speech, here quite literally a person's freedom of how (i.e., in what language) to speak.
The following are verbatim excerpts from my law school thesis, entitled "The Hazleton Ordinance’s English-Only Provision: An Unconstitutional Attempt to Use Language to Expel Racial Minority Immigrants." (Citations will be provided upon request).
On the myth of linguistic homogeneity:
There is a long history of linguistic diversity in the United States. In fact, the United States is not now and never has been an exclusively Anglo, English-speaking, monolingual nation. Despite this, a historical view persists – a myth of linguistic homogeneity – that allows many people to regard English as the only truly American language. The perpetuation of this popular myth is critical for the survival of the English-only movement, since this myth is the primary justification for rejecting other languages. Thus, the converse is that the demise of the English-only movement must necessarily involve, at least in part, a deconstruction of the myth of linguistic homogeneity in the United States.
On the constitutionality of English-only laws:
First, and most notably, the Constitution does not provide for an official language. Second, the U.S. Supreme Court has explicitly proclaimed that the protection of the Constitution extends to all – to those who speak other languages as well as to those born with English on the tongue.
On language and politics:
English-only laws take an ethnic trait of the dominant culture, the English language, and give that trait legal, governmental sanction, creating second-class citizenship for Americans who possess different (hence unofficial), but equally American traits. Undoubtedly, the English language is a key symbol of the ethnicity of America’s dominant core culture. English-only laws thus use the language symbol to assert and enforce the dominance of the core culture and to marginalize all other American cultures. Thus, on a symbolic level, the debate about an "official" language (and the concomitant creation of "unofficial," un-American languages) is, at its core, a debate about cultural and political dominance and power. Because politics is human relations, and language is an organic component of such relations, language is politically significant.
On language and national origin:
There is a close correlation between language and national origin, which statistics strongly reflect. A 1984 study indicates that 97 percent of persons who usually speak Spanish are of Latino origin or descent. According to the same study, approximately 77 percent of American Latinos speak Spanish. These statistics demonstrate how close a proxy language is for national origin and, thus, how close a fit language discrimination can be for discrimination because of national origin.
On language and culture:
The assertion of English-only proponents that language is a culturally neutral medium is not defensible. Language is "the quintessential cultural tool." [. . .] For many it is the only means through which members can have access to their histories and through which many of the cultural rituals can be performed.
From the paper's conclusion:
Historically, the United States – including and especially Pennsylvania – has been and continues to be linguistically diverse. The notion that the United States is or ever was linguistically homogeneous is a myth. And in over 230 years of existence, the integrity of the nation has never been threatened on account of its linguistic diversity. Legally, English-only laws unconstitutionally infringe upon First Amendment rights of members of the public to communicate with government in a known tongue. Freedom of speech protects not only the right to speak, but also the right of the public to receive information and ideas. Socio-culturally, language holds a unique place among all other cultural characteristics as it is the medium by which cultural and familial roots are transmitted and by which one’s cultural and ethnic identity is maintained.
My recommendation to the Hazleton court, after reviewing the case-law and scholarship on English-only laws:
Under a textualist analysis [of the U.S. Constitution], the First Amendment says nothing about freedom to speak English only; the freedom refers to speech, without reference to any particular language. Accordingly, this constitutional freedom is not restricted to any language; if it were, it would contradict the very idea of freedom itself.
The concluding sentence of my term paper:
The law has made the mistake in the past of providing favored status to the dominant culture – and subordinated status to a minority culture – on the basis of a socially constructed cultural trait; we must now hope that it does not make this kind of mistake again.
The following are verbatim excerpts from my law school thesis, entitled "The Hazleton Ordinance’s English-Only Provision: An Unconstitutional Attempt to Use Language to Expel Racial Minority Immigrants." (Citations will be provided upon request).
On the myth of linguistic homogeneity:
There is a long history of linguistic diversity in the United States. In fact, the United States is not now and never has been an exclusively Anglo, English-speaking, monolingual nation. Despite this, a historical view persists – a myth of linguistic homogeneity – that allows many people to regard English as the only truly American language. The perpetuation of this popular myth is critical for the survival of the English-only movement, since this myth is the primary justification for rejecting other languages. Thus, the converse is that the demise of the English-only movement must necessarily involve, at least in part, a deconstruction of the myth of linguistic homogeneity in the United States.
On the constitutionality of English-only laws:
First, and most notably, the Constitution does not provide for an official language. Second, the U.S. Supreme Court has explicitly proclaimed that the protection of the Constitution extends to all – to those who speak other languages as well as to those born with English on the tongue.
On language and politics:
English-only laws take an ethnic trait of the dominant culture, the English language, and give that trait legal, governmental sanction, creating second-class citizenship for Americans who possess different (hence unofficial), but equally American traits. Undoubtedly, the English language is a key symbol of the ethnicity of America’s dominant core culture. English-only laws thus use the language symbol to assert and enforce the dominance of the core culture and to marginalize all other American cultures. Thus, on a symbolic level, the debate about an "official" language (and the concomitant creation of "unofficial," un-American languages) is, at its core, a debate about cultural and political dominance and power. Because politics is human relations, and language is an organic component of such relations, language is politically significant.
On language and national origin:
There is a close correlation between language and national origin, which statistics strongly reflect. A 1984 study indicates that 97 percent of persons who usually speak Spanish are of Latino origin or descent. According to the same study, approximately 77 percent of American Latinos speak Spanish. These statistics demonstrate how close a proxy language is for national origin and, thus, how close a fit language discrimination can be for discrimination because of national origin.
On language and culture:
The assertion of English-only proponents that language is a culturally neutral medium is not defensible. Language is "the quintessential cultural tool." [. . .] For many it is the only means through which members can have access to their histories and through which many of the cultural rituals can be performed.
From the paper's conclusion:
Historically, the United States – including and especially Pennsylvania – has been and continues to be linguistically diverse. The notion that the United States is or ever was linguistically homogeneous is a myth. And in over 230 years of existence, the integrity of the nation has never been threatened on account of its linguistic diversity. Legally, English-only laws unconstitutionally infringe upon First Amendment rights of members of the public to communicate with government in a known tongue. Freedom of speech protects not only the right to speak, but also the right of the public to receive information and ideas. Socio-culturally, language holds a unique place among all other cultural characteristics as it is the medium by which cultural and familial roots are transmitted and by which one’s cultural and ethnic identity is maintained.
My recommendation to the Hazleton court, after reviewing the case-law and scholarship on English-only laws:
Under a textualist analysis [of the U.S. Constitution], the First Amendment says nothing about freedom to speak English only; the freedom refers to speech, without reference to any particular language. Accordingly, this constitutional freedom is not restricted to any language; if it were, it would contradict the very idea of freedom itself.
The concluding sentence of my term paper:
The law has made the mistake in the past of providing favored status to the dominant culture – and subordinated status to a minority culture – on the basis of a socially constructed cultural trait; we must now hope that it does not make this kind of mistake again.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Political-philosophical analysis of the Republican Party
Based upon my basic understanding of the Republican Party, I know that it stands for small government, meaning that government should generally not interfere with freely-existing social and economic forces.
Listening to the radio this morning, it dawned on me that the Republican Party -- particularly President Bush and the Secretary of the Treasury -- is playing a major role in the initiative to intervene in our downwardly-spiralling economy. Personally I have no problem with this government intervention. But the question arose: based on the political philosophy of the Republican Party, why would they be getting involved or even supporting this government intervention in the economy?
Being a political question, the question is ultimately one that concerns the issue of power, which in practical terms, is money. Redefining the question, then: why would the Republican Party actively intervene in the country's economic decline? The answer: because Republicans represent -- and are themselves -- the class that is facing a real loss of power due to their ownership and interest in the U.S. economy.
Now this makes perfect sense. And really, one cannot criticize this policy as anything other than rational decisionmaking: the policymakers are simply protecting their own interests and the interests of those that they represent.
But where this analysis gets interesting, I believe, is when one considers the dialectical opposite: when -- and more importantly, why -- does the Republican Party not support government intervention in the economy (or other social matters)? The answer: when their interests as representatives of the upper-class, corporations, and the economic elite are not at risk; for example, in matters of economic justice and social welfare (read, when the poor lower-class and politically-irrelevant sectors of the middle class are not involved). And this reality -- and its concomitant revelation of the hypocrisy of the Republican Party's political philosophy -- exposes the Republican Party as class-biased.
Now, I'm aware that the idea that the Republican Party is class-biased is not necessarily a novel concept. Interpolating and applying this political philosophy at the individual level, however, is what really concerns me; think about this: the Republican true to her/his party's political philosophy makes a choice to refuse to help an economically-unfortunate lower- or middle-class neighbor, and will only choose to get involved if an upper-class neighbor or corporation's economic health is in jeopardy.
When we then humanize the faces of the lower-class, we see the reality that a majority of this class has some hue of brown skin and lives largely in urban areas. It is at this point that the class bias, perhaps arguably justifiable under a rational analysis or social-Darwin approach, moves dangerously in the direction of racial or ethnic bias, something which is no longer justifiable under any analysis or approach other than an explicitly racist one.
My conclusion here is not that the policy of the Republican Party is a proxy for any particular racial agenda. My ultimate point is that the underlying structure of the Republican Party -- in its philosophy of small government -- is morally indefensible. And even more so because, in real life, this political philosophy is ignored when convenient to those in power, thus exposing the hypocrisy of the Republican politicians themselves.
Listening to the radio this morning, it dawned on me that the Republican Party -- particularly President Bush and the Secretary of the Treasury -- is playing a major role in the initiative to intervene in our downwardly-spiralling economy. Personally I have no problem with this government intervention. But the question arose: based on the political philosophy of the Republican Party, why would they be getting involved or even supporting this government intervention in the economy?
Being a political question, the question is ultimately one that concerns the issue of power, which in practical terms, is money. Redefining the question, then: why would the Republican Party actively intervene in the country's economic decline? The answer: because Republicans represent -- and are themselves -- the class that is facing a real loss of power due to their ownership and interest in the U.S. economy.
Now this makes perfect sense. And really, one cannot criticize this policy as anything other than rational decisionmaking: the policymakers are simply protecting their own interests and the interests of those that they represent.
But where this analysis gets interesting, I believe, is when one considers the dialectical opposite: when -- and more importantly, why -- does the Republican Party not support government intervention in the economy (or other social matters)? The answer: when their interests as representatives of the upper-class, corporations, and the economic elite are not at risk; for example, in matters of economic justice and social welfare (read, when the poor lower-class and politically-irrelevant sectors of the middle class are not involved). And this reality -- and its concomitant revelation of the hypocrisy of the Republican Party's political philosophy -- exposes the Republican Party as class-biased.
Now, I'm aware that the idea that the Republican Party is class-biased is not necessarily a novel concept. Interpolating and applying this political philosophy at the individual level, however, is what really concerns me; think about this: the Republican true to her/his party's political philosophy makes a choice to refuse to help an economically-unfortunate lower- or middle-class neighbor, and will only choose to get involved if an upper-class neighbor or corporation's economic health is in jeopardy.
When we then humanize the faces of the lower-class, we see the reality that a majority of this class has some hue of brown skin and lives largely in urban areas. It is at this point that the class bias, perhaps arguably justifiable under a rational analysis or social-Darwin approach, moves dangerously in the direction of racial or ethnic bias, something which is no longer justifiable under any analysis or approach other than an explicitly racist one.
My conclusion here is not that the policy of the Republican Party is a proxy for any particular racial agenda. My ultimate point is that the underlying structure of the Republican Party -- in its philosophy of small government -- is morally indefensible. And even more so because, in real life, this political philosophy is ignored when convenient to those in power, thus exposing the hypocrisy of the Republican politicians themselves.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Post-weekend thoughts
I've recently noticed that the latest fad hairstyle for girls is straight bangs across the lower forehead. I must say that I'm not a huge fan. Don't get me wrong, some girls can pull off this look, but I've already seen several girls that definitely cannot.
At last night's house party, we heard some classic Hall & Oates stuff. Man, that was some good music, and I must say, you really don't hear that kinda stuff on the radio any more. Those guys just ooze Philly soul:
Lastly, tomorrow is opening day for the Philadelphia Phillies. Let's hope that this season has all the positive energy, excitement, and success that exemplified last season, and even more. Let's also hope that the Fightin' Phils don't make us wait until the last game of the season to clinch the NL East. Go Phils!!!
Actualizacion del fin de semana
Estimados lectores hispanohablantes,
Primero, gracias por chequear mi sitio del internet. Es bueno saber que no estoy escribiendo para nadie ni nada. Pues, les doy mis sinceros aplausos por su patrocinio.
Ahora, a las noticias de ultima hora. El viernes tuve un dia muy largo; trabaje desde la 10:45 de la manana hasta 11 de la noche. Despues de trabajar tantas horas solo quise regresar a la casa para relajarme, ver tele, y chequear el internet. Durmi muy bien esa noche.
El sabado era un dia de mandados. Fui a la lavanderia para lavar las sabanas, y mientras que estaba lavando fui al mercado para comprar mi comida para la semana. Vi a un buen amigo, quien trabaja como cajero en el mercado, y hable por un rato con el, dandole unas cortas historias (lo mas destacado) de mi gira a Egipto.
El sabado en la noche fui a una fiesta en la casa ("house party") de un amigo/companero del trabajo. El vive en el 18 piso de los condominios Ellington, ubicados en la interseccion de la 15 y Chestnut, dos cuadras de City Hall -- el gran edificio de la alcaldia -- y solo una cuadra del rascacielo(s) mas nuevo de la ciudad, que todavia esta bajo construccion: Residences at the Ritz-Carlton. Bueno, en la fiesta, habia unos companeros de nuestro trabajo y los demas eran companeros de la universidad de derecho ("law school") -- Villanova -- de mi amigo.
Lo mejor de la noche era un juego de borrachos (usando naipes por supuesto) que se llama "Bullshit Pyramid." No tengo la paciencia para explicarlo aqui (chequea el link), pero les puedo decir que el juego cumple el objetivo de hacerse a uno bien ahumado. Nos divertimos mucho.
Me despidi de la fiesta un poquito antes de las 2 de la noche, y fui directamente a un pizzeria "late night" para dos pedazos de pizza, uno con chorizo y el otro solo con queso.
Bueno, eso es todo lo interesante (y responde el lector: "mae, interesante??? que hijueputa escritor mas aburrido!!!"). Debo terminar aqui antes de que pierdo su atencion. Gracias por leer mi blog. Espero que sigan chequeando aunque casi siempre estoy escribiendo en ingles, pero podemos justificarlo como su leccion diario en ingles. Y con eso, se despide su profesor del dos-quince. Pura birra, mae!!!
Primero, gracias por chequear mi sitio del internet. Es bueno saber que no estoy escribiendo para nadie ni nada. Pues, les doy mis sinceros aplausos por su patrocinio.
Ahora, a las noticias de ultima hora. El viernes tuve un dia muy largo; trabaje desde la 10:45 de la manana hasta 11 de la noche. Despues de trabajar tantas horas solo quise regresar a la casa para relajarme, ver tele, y chequear el internet. Durmi muy bien esa noche.
El sabado era un dia de mandados. Fui a la lavanderia para lavar las sabanas, y mientras que estaba lavando fui al mercado para comprar mi comida para la semana. Vi a un buen amigo, quien trabaja como cajero en el mercado, y hable por un rato con el, dandole unas cortas historias (lo mas destacado) de mi gira a Egipto.
El sabado en la noche fui a una fiesta en la casa ("house party") de un amigo/companero del trabajo. El vive en el 18 piso de los condominios Ellington, ubicados en la interseccion de la 15 y Chestnut, dos cuadras de City Hall -- el gran edificio de la alcaldia -- y solo una cuadra del rascacielo(s) mas nuevo de la ciudad, que todavia esta bajo construccion: Residences at the Ritz-Carlton. Bueno, en la fiesta, habia unos companeros de nuestro trabajo y los demas eran companeros de la universidad de derecho ("law school") -- Villanova -- de mi amigo.
Lo mejor de la noche era un juego de borrachos (usando naipes por supuesto) que se llama "Bullshit Pyramid." No tengo la paciencia para explicarlo aqui (chequea el link), pero les puedo decir que el juego cumple el objetivo de hacerse a uno bien ahumado. Nos divertimos mucho.
Me despidi de la fiesta un poquito antes de las 2 de la noche, y fui directamente a un pizzeria "late night" para dos pedazos de pizza, uno con chorizo y el otro solo con queso.
Bueno, eso es todo lo interesante (y responde el lector: "mae, interesante??? que hijueputa escritor mas aburrido!!!"). Debo terminar aqui antes de que pierdo su atencion. Gracias por leer mi blog. Espero que sigan chequeando aunque casi siempre estoy escribiendo en ingles, pero podemos justificarlo como su leccion diario en ingles. Y con eso, se despide su profesor del dos-quince. Pura birra, mae!!!
Friday, March 28, 2008
Cira
Last night, as I was walking home, I noticed the lights of Cira Centre flashing quickly from red to light blue to red to light blue . . . It was beautiful. I loved it because I could understand how the midrise skyscraper, the lone skyscraper west of the Schuylkill River, would want to flash its lights brilliantly in order to draw attention away from the Center City skyline and toward itself. In contrast to the high energy and perpetual persistence of Cira's flashing lights, the Center City skyline -- made up of Comcast Center, Liberty One and Two, the Mellon Bank Center, and the Bell Atlantic Tower -- was barely lit up other than the lights from inside the offices themselves, and was, for all intents and purposes, lifeless.
Tonight I again noticed the flashing lights of Cira Centre, but this time as a reflection off of one of the anonymous midrise buildings in Center City. And I thought to myself, man, this building keeps catching my eye, it keeps on flashing its lights, it keeps on calling to the rest of the city: look at me, look at me! I love that attitude, because, as an isolated midrise, there is no egotism or excessive pride in that flashing, just a sincere and passionate desire to shine. I love that attitude, because sometimes I feel the same way, I just wanna do my thing and I wanna do it with a little flash, a little panache, a little something different, although not too too proud, but in the end I wanna be noticed, especially at nighttime -- just like Cira.
To read a poem that I wrote about Cira, click this link:
Para leer un poema que he escrito sobre Cira, haga clic en:
"Lucitas Azules"
I'll wait and shine
as late in time
until you're mine.
Tonight I again noticed the flashing lights of Cira Centre, but this time as a reflection off of one of the anonymous midrise buildings in Center City. And I thought to myself, man, this building keeps catching my eye, it keeps on flashing its lights, it keeps on calling to the rest of the city: look at me, look at me! I love that attitude, because, as an isolated midrise, there is no egotism or excessive pride in that flashing, just a sincere and passionate desire to shine. I love that attitude, because sometimes I feel the same way, I just wanna do my thing and I wanna do it with a little flash, a little panache, a little something different, although not too too proud, but in the end I wanna be noticed, especially at nighttime -- just like Cira.
To read a poem that I wrote about Cira, click this link:
Para leer un poema que he escrito sobre Cira, haga clic en:
"Lucitas Azules"
I'll wait and shine
as late in time
until you're mine.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Regreso a la vida cotidiana
"From the latest hiatus, the greatest is back to grace this faceless case." -- me (referring to my return back to the job)
I went to the gym tonight for just the second time since I got back from my Egypt/Europe trip. Although I'm sure I lost a couple pounds during the trip -- due to not working out at all for two weeks and an inconsistent eating schedule on the road -- I felt surprisingly strong tonight. For my bench press (barbell, free weight), I was able to put up 185 pounds (about my own body weight) for 6 repetitions, 205 lbs. for 4 reps, 225 twice, and in my final set, I benched 245 pounds just short of 2 times (the guy spotting me had to give me just a little bit of help on the left-hand side of the bar). For the rest of my exercises, I was able to do my normal weight progression with little difficulty at all. It felt really good.
Earlier tonight, while lounging on my couch and watching the Louisville-Tennessee men's basketball game on television, the Baby fell asleep on my stomach. I kept rubbing her tummy while she alternately stretched then retracted her claws. She kept purring the whole time; it was really nice.
Bueno, manana es viernes, y por eso como siempre me hace sentir muy feliz. En este momento no tengo grandes planes para el fin de semana, pero tengo ganas de salir o por lo menos hacer algo fuera de mi apartamento. Estoy pensando de jugar basketball el sabado en la tarde. Es posible que voy a trabajar unas horas extras tambien. Y en la noche unos traguitos no me matarian tampoco.
Espero que todos tengan un buen fin de semana. Desde la ciudad de amor fraternal: Philadelphia!
I went to the gym tonight for just the second time since I got back from my Egypt/Europe trip. Although I'm sure I lost a couple pounds during the trip -- due to not working out at all for two weeks and an inconsistent eating schedule on the road -- I felt surprisingly strong tonight. For my bench press (barbell, free weight), I was able to put up 185 pounds (about my own body weight) for 6 repetitions, 205 lbs. for 4 reps, 225 twice, and in my final set, I benched 245 pounds just short of 2 times (the guy spotting me had to give me just a little bit of help on the left-hand side of the bar). For the rest of my exercises, I was able to do my normal weight progression with little difficulty at all. It felt really good.
Earlier tonight, while lounging on my couch and watching the Louisville-Tennessee men's basketball game on television, the Baby fell asleep on my stomach. I kept rubbing her tummy while she alternately stretched then retracted her claws. She kept purring the whole time; it was really nice.
Bueno, manana es viernes, y por eso como siempre me hace sentir muy feliz. En este momento no tengo grandes planes para el fin de semana, pero tengo ganas de salir o por lo menos hacer algo fuera de mi apartamento. Estoy pensando de jugar basketball el sabado en la tarde. Es posible que voy a trabajar unas horas extras tambien. Y en la noche unos traguitos no me matarian tampoco.
Espero que todos tengan un buen fin de semana. Desde la ciudad de amor fraternal: Philadelphia!
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Mental Illness and Mental Stillness
Hey there! A couple interesting stories from earlier today:
As I was walking through Rittenhouse Square on my way to work this morning, I saw a homeless guy crouching next to one of the park benches. He was aggressively stomping his foot on the ground while yelling loudly, "you faggot!" Then he quickly stood up and looked back toward the spot on the ground where he was stomping and yelled passionately, "Leave me alone you faggot!!!" There was no one else within ten meters of him.
Later in the evening, I took a break from work and walked outside to the Wawa on our block. I went straight back to the refrigerated section because I had my mind set on getting some yogurt. When I got back there a disheveled woman said to me, "How are you?" I responded, "Good, how are you?", to which she replied, "Can you help me get some food?" I told her that I was going to get a yogurt, and that I'd get one for her. While rubbing her stomach, she said that she didn't like yogurt, and immediately asked me for money; I repeated and stuck firmly to my offer of giving her a yogurt. As if she was entitled to my money, she acted offended by my refusal to change my offer. So in response to her body language and attitude, I said to her, "how about a banana?" Without a word, she just walked away, ostensibly disgusted with me.
Finally today, in the interest of full and honest disclosure and to still any unsettled minds, I'd like to be clear about something. When I went to the red light districts of Essen and Amsterdam with Roland and his friends, not one of us talked to any of the girls, which means of course that not one of us had any business, so to speak, with any of the girls. To state this otherwise, in an affirmative form, we all simply walked around and observed the girls in the windows. So, although this clarification may disappoint some of my friends here in the U.S. who were hoping for a wild story, I must be honest -- as always. And especially in this case because I don't want any of my European friends to be painted in a misleading light.
Well, speaking of mental stillness, it's time for me to get a good night's sleep. Buenas noches! Until tomorrow, your friend in Philly.
As I was walking through Rittenhouse Square on my way to work this morning, I saw a homeless guy crouching next to one of the park benches. He was aggressively stomping his foot on the ground while yelling loudly, "you faggot!" Then he quickly stood up and looked back toward the spot on the ground where he was stomping and yelled passionately, "Leave me alone you faggot!!!" There was no one else within ten meters of him.
Later in the evening, I took a break from work and walked outside to the Wawa on our block. I went straight back to the refrigerated section because I had my mind set on getting some yogurt. When I got back there a disheveled woman said to me, "How are you?" I responded, "Good, how are you?", to which she replied, "Can you help me get some food?" I told her that I was going to get a yogurt, and that I'd get one for her. While rubbing her stomach, she said that she didn't like yogurt, and immediately asked me for money; I repeated and stuck firmly to my offer of giving her a yogurt. As if she was entitled to my money, she acted offended by my refusal to change my offer. So in response to her body language and attitude, I said to her, "how about a banana?" Without a word, she just walked away, ostensibly disgusted with me.
Finally today, in the interest of full and honest disclosure and to still any unsettled minds, I'd like to be clear about something. When I went to the red light districts of Essen and Amsterdam with Roland and his friends, not one of us talked to any of the girls, which means of course that not one of us had any business, so to speak, with any of the girls. To state this otherwise, in an affirmative form, we all simply walked around and observed the girls in the windows. So, although this clarification may disappoint some of my friends here in the U.S. who were hoping for a wild story, I must be honest -- as always. And especially in this case because I don't want any of my European friends to be painted in a misleading light.
Well, speaking of mental stillness, it's time for me to get a good night's sleep. Buenas noches! Until tomorrow, your friend in Philly.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Extrapyramidal Symptoms
Here are some pics from the Pyramids of Giza:
With the Great Sphinx of Giza:
Here you can get an idea of the immense size of the Great Pyramid, especially in perspective with the camel at the bottom of the pic:
Note the city of Cairo in the right background of this photo:
Thanks for checking out my pics! If you haven't done so already, check out the pics that I retroactively included in the appropriate posts below (there should be four additional photos in the various posts below). Ch-ch-ch-check it out!
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Random observations
Yesterday I saw a guy whose one leg was shorter than the other. The rubber sole of his short-legged shoe was about 5 inches thick.
While riding the 7 bus yesterday a decrepit (though not old) man got off at 22nd and Washington. Right after stepping off the bus, he began dumping his trash -- what appeared to be candy wrappers -- into the gutter.
In Egypt a lot of the men have marks or bruises on their foreheads. They're there from hitting their head on the floor so much during prayers.
Philly seemed a bit quiet last night; must have been because it was the night before Easter.
I got all my photos developed. I'll upload a few more to this site some time later this afternoon. So be sure to check back, a'ight?
While riding the 7 bus yesterday a decrepit (though not old) man got off at 22nd and Washington. Right after stepping off the bus, he began dumping his trash -- what appeared to be candy wrappers -- into the gutter.
In Egypt a lot of the men have marks or bruises on their foreheads. They're there from hitting their head on the floor so much during prayers.
Philly seemed a bit quiet last night; must have been because it was the night before Easter.
I got all my photos developed. I'll upload a few more to this site some time later this afternoon. So be sure to check back, a'ight?
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Pride for the Cherry & White
Earlier this afternoon, the Temple men's basketball team lost in the first round of the NCAA tournament by a score of 72-61 to Michigan State. A group of us from work went to the Cherry Street Tavern to watch the second half of the game.
Today's loss was a real disappointment, of course, but what's most important is -- as always -- to look at the bigger picture. And here, the big picture is that Temple undoubtedly had a great season. They are the 2007-08 Atlantic 10 champions. Before today's game, they finished the season with seven straight wins; in other words, they came together as a team and began rolling right when it mattered most. And considering the preseason prognostications, they far exceeded all expectations; that, in my mind, is the sign of a true champion: working your ass off and ultimately proving all the naysayers wrong through positive actions and concrete results.
Looking beyond today to the bigger picture that includes the future, almost the entire team returns next year -- and now with NCAA tourney experience (and the confidence that comes along with that) under their belts. Although Temple will lose their senior leader, Mark Tyndale, we'll still have our leading scorer, Dionte Christmas, who'll be a senior next season.
Props and many thanks once again to Luis Guzman, starting point guard, for hooking us up with comp tickets for several of this season's games. I'm already looking forward to next season, to seeing all the returning players get even better, and to seeing Temple continue to build up a nationally-recognized and -respected program.
In honor of the guys, and with pride for the cherry & white, I'll leave you now with the lyrics to Temple's two fight songs (you have the offseason to memorize):
"T for Temple U"
T for Temple U
Un-i-ver-sity!
Fight! Fight! Fight! For the cherry and the white;
For the cherry and the white we'll fight, fight, fight!
"Fight! Temple Fight!"
Fight! Temple, fight on!
Fight with all your might!
Fight for the Cherry and White,
Keep our colors high!
Roll that ball and hit the line,
All the Temple stars will shine,
Skill and courage win the game
Fight on, Temple, fight!
Today's loss was a real disappointment, of course, but what's most important is -- as always -- to look at the bigger picture. And here, the big picture is that Temple undoubtedly had a great season. They are the 2007-08 Atlantic 10 champions. Before today's game, they finished the season with seven straight wins; in other words, they came together as a team and began rolling right when it mattered most. And considering the preseason prognostications, they far exceeded all expectations; that, in my mind, is the sign of a true champion: working your ass off and ultimately proving all the naysayers wrong through positive actions and concrete results.
Looking beyond today to the bigger picture that includes the future, almost the entire team returns next year -- and now with NCAA tourney experience (and the confidence that comes along with that) under their belts. Although Temple will lose their senior leader, Mark Tyndale, we'll still have our leading scorer, Dionte Christmas, who'll be a senior next season.
Props and many thanks once again to Luis Guzman, starting point guard, for hooking us up with comp tickets for several of this season's games. I'm already looking forward to next season, to seeing all the returning players get even better, and to seeing Temple continue to build up a nationally-recognized and -respected program.
In honor of the guys, and with pride for the cherry & white, I'll leave you now with the lyrics to Temple's two fight songs (you have the offseason to memorize):
"T for Temple U"
T for Temple U
Un-i-ver-sity!
Fight! Fight! Fight! For the cherry and the white;
For the cherry and the white we'll fight, fight, fight!
"Fight! Temple Fight!"
Fight! Temple, fight on!
Fight with all your might!
Fight for the Cherry and White,
Keep our colors high!
Roll that ball and hit the line,
All the Temple stars will shine,
Skill and courage win the game
Fight on, Temple, fight!
Welcome back!
It's hard to believe that I'm back in my apartment here in Philly. Perhaps it's even harder to believe that I actually went to work today. And maybe it's even harder yet for you to believe that you exist.
So the question that everyone is asking is as follows: what will this guy write about now that he's back? Well, let's see, should I tell you what I eat for lunch every day, or how many paces it takes to walk from my apartment to work, or the definition of shart? Ladies and gentlemen, the official party line is at this point -- on the initial question that is -- I don't know.
But I will give you this tidbit of information, which I have no doubt will excite you to no end: I have several (and by "several" I mean many) photos of my time in Egypt and Germany; a select few of these photos will be uploaded to this fine website in order to spice up the monotony of my endless blabbering (which for some reason you continue to read => LMA-OH!).
Anyway, to all those whom I saw today, thanks so much for so warmly welcoming me back. It really does feel good to be back. It's like they (?) say: there's no place like home!
So the question that everyone is asking is as follows: what will this guy write about now that he's back? Well, let's see, should I tell you what I eat for lunch every day, or how many paces it takes to walk from my apartment to work, or the definition of shart? Ladies and gentlemen, the official party line is at this point -- on the initial question that is -- I don't know.
But I will give you this tidbit of information, which I have no doubt will excite you to no end: I have several (and by "several" I mean many) photos of my time in Egypt and Germany; a select few of these photos will be uploaded to this fine website in order to spice up the monotony of my endless blabbering (which for some reason you continue to read => LMA-OH!).
Anyway, to all those whom I saw today, thanks so much for so warmly welcoming me back. It really does feel good to be back. It's like they (?) say: there's no place like home!
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Germany's Capital City
I arrived in Berlin shortly after 12 noon on Monday. Because there was a line at the tourist office, I decided that I could figure out everything on my own, and I just walked right out of Berlin Central Station.
When I walked out I saw some taller buildings not too far off, so I headed in that direction. Fortunately I walked directly to the Reichstag (Germany's Parliament building). From there I discovered I was within easy walking distance of Brandenburg Gate. This, in turn, put me right on the end of Unter den Linden, Berlin's notable boulevard -- their version of Paris' Champs Elyses or Philly's Benjamin Franklin Parkway (don't you love my Philly references?).
Unter den Linden marks the address of several key landmarks in Berlin; those that I visited were The National Library, Humboldt University, and the Memorial to Victims of War and Tyranny. I also think I saw the Zeughaus and/or the National Opera, but without a tour guide I wasn't certain what I was looking at.
From there, I followed street signs to Alexanderplatz, which is (roughly) Berlin's version of Times Square. Around that time I picked the pace as it started to drizzle, and I had no umbrella. I headed toward Friedrichstrasse, a street that showcased a mixture of modern buildings and historic facades. Before arriving there, though, I fortuitously came upon Gendarmenmarkt, a square bounded by two cathedrals and a concert building; it was very picturesque. Anyhow, I soon reached Friedrichstrasse, which then led me directly to Checkpoint Charlie, the infamous pass -- through the Berlin Wall -- connecting communist East Berlin with democratic West Berlin. The famous sign is still there, along with the actual gatehouse with a wall of sandbags piled in front.
The location of Checkpoint Charlie put me in a good position to walk several more city blocks to the Topography of Terror, an outdoor exhibit in progress, which included a substantially preserved and sizeable portion of the former Berlin Wall. Seeing that really touched me and got me thinking, to think that a wall could really separate two different worlds, to think that families had been separated for years without any contact whatsoever, to think that real people died trying to cross that wall in search of freedom, and to think that some elements of our current society can somehow believe that a wall can be and should be built along our southern border.
Leaving that behind, and continuing on my trek, I went to Potsdamer Platz, a central and major intersection near the city's few high-rise buildings, which exemplified a futuristic style of architecture. After taking a coffee break in a nice place right there, I headed below ground to look at a transit map in order to figure out how to get to Potsdam, a small city outside of Berlin, where I could visit one of the UNESCO World Heritage sites: Sanssouci Park. Somehow I accomplished all of this, and was still able to make it back to Berlin Central Station to catch a 7:48pm train all the way back to Essen.
It was a long day, but totally worth it. Berlin is a beautiful city, one that I would love to visit again, hopefully with a friend or friends or with a loved one.
When I walked out I saw some taller buildings not too far off, so I headed in that direction. Fortunately I walked directly to the Reichstag (Germany's Parliament building). From there I discovered I was within easy walking distance of Brandenburg Gate. This, in turn, put me right on the end of Unter den Linden, Berlin's notable boulevard -- their version of Paris' Champs Elyses or Philly's Benjamin Franklin Parkway (don't you love my Philly references?).
Unter den Linden marks the address of several key landmarks in Berlin; those that I visited were The National Library, Humboldt University, and the Memorial to Victims of War and Tyranny. I also think I saw the Zeughaus and/or the National Opera, but without a tour guide I wasn't certain what I was looking at.
From there, I followed street signs to Alexanderplatz, which is (roughly) Berlin's version of Times Square. Around that time I picked the pace as it started to drizzle, and I had no umbrella. I headed toward Friedrichstrasse, a street that showcased a mixture of modern buildings and historic facades. Before arriving there, though, I fortuitously came upon Gendarmenmarkt, a square bounded by two cathedrals and a concert building; it was very picturesque. Anyhow, I soon reached Friedrichstrasse, which then led me directly to Checkpoint Charlie, the infamous pass -- through the Berlin Wall -- connecting communist East Berlin with democratic West Berlin. The famous sign is still there, along with the actual gatehouse with a wall of sandbags piled in front.
The location of Checkpoint Charlie put me in a good position to walk several more city blocks to the Topography of Terror, an outdoor exhibit in progress, which included a substantially preserved and sizeable portion of the former Berlin Wall. Seeing that really touched me and got me thinking, to think that a wall could really separate two different worlds, to think that families had been separated for years without any contact whatsoever, to think that real people died trying to cross that wall in search of freedom, and to think that some elements of our current society can somehow believe that a wall can be and should be built along our southern border.
Leaving that behind, and continuing on my trek, I went to Potsdamer Platz, a central and major intersection near the city's few high-rise buildings, which exemplified a futuristic style of architecture. After taking a coffee break in a nice place right there, I headed below ground to look at a transit map in order to figure out how to get to Potsdam, a small city outside of Berlin, where I could visit one of the UNESCO World Heritage sites: Sanssouci Park. Somehow I accomplished all of this, and was still able to make it back to Berlin Central Station to catch a 7:48pm train all the way back to Essen.
It was a long day, but totally worth it. Berlin is a beautiful city, one that I would love to visit again, hopefully with a friend or friends or with a loved one.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Off to Berlin...
It's now late Sunday night, and I returned from my afternoon trip to Amsterdam just a couple of hours ago. Now I'm planning my day tomorrow: a day trip by myself to Berlin.
Amsterdam was, despite the uncomfortably cold weather and intermittent light rain, a beautiful city. The way that Amsterdam's sidewalks, shops and restaurants line the city's canals is really cool. Thinking about Philly, I have hopes that the Delaware River waterfront can be developed in a similar (in concept at least) way. In Amsterdam, we stepped into several souvenir shops and walked through the red light district, where - in a purely aesthetic sense - the girls were actually not bad-looking at all.
But speaking of girls, and I mean the everyday, decent types, I was very impressed with the girls I saw in Amsterdam. Maybe it was just the mix of different types: the tall, blonde, Dutch girls, the really hot brown-skinned girls from (or the descendants of parents from) the former Dutch colonies, and the beautiful-eyed and tantalizingly unattainable girls from the Middle East and Arab world. I tell ya, wham-bam, thank you ma'am, Amsterdam was damn hot, man!
Finally, right before leaving, I went to the Sex Museum. You'd think it would be exciting, and although I would still suggest it to anyone visiting the city, I ultimately say that it wasn't that big of a deal. There were just lots of photos of naked people, photos of them having sex and getting freaky and shit, and funny exhibits of movable mannequins undressing or moaning or squirting in your direction. But hey, for 3 Euros, it was still worth the price.
Anyway, that's all for now folks. I've gotta get a few hours of sleep now before waking up to get a 7:24am train from Essen to arrive at 11:08am in Berlin. I've already done some research online so as to know what to see (since I'm going solo). I'll return back to Essen late tomorrow night for one last rest before waking up super early on Tuesday for the return trip back to my final destination: the double-deuce and Spruce, of course.
Amsterdam was, despite the uncomfortably cold weather and intermittent light rain, a beautiful city. The way that Amsterdam's sidewalks, shops and restaurants line the city's canals is really cool. Thinking about Philly, I have hopes that the Delaware River waterfront can be developed in a similar (in concept at least) way. In Amsterdam, we stepped into several souvenir shops and walked through the red light district, where - in a purely aesthetic sense - the girls were actually not bad-looking at all.
But speaking of girls, and I mean the everyday, decent types, I was very impressed with the girls I saw in Amsterdam. Maybe it was just the mix of different types: the tall, blonde, Dutch girls, the really hot brown-skinned girls from (or the descendants of parents from) the former Dutch colonies, and the beautiful-eyed and tantalizingly unattainable girls from the Middle East and Arab world. I tell ya, wham-bam, thank you ma'am, Amsterdam was damn hot, man!
Finally, right before leaving, I went to the Sex Museum. You'd think it would be exciting, and although I would still suggest it to anyone visiting the city, I ultimately say that it wasn't that big of a deal. There were just lots of photos of naked people, photos of them having sex and getting freaky and shit, and funny exhibits of movable mannequins undressing or moaning or squirting in your direction. But hey, for 3 Euros, it was still worth the price.
Anyway, that's all for now folks. I've gotta get a few hours of sleep now before waking up to get a 7:24am train from Essen to arrive at 11:08am in Berlin. I've already done some research online so as to know what to see (since I'm going solo). I'll return back to Essen late tomorrow night for one last rest before waking up super early on Tuesday for the return trip back to my final destination: the double-deuce and Spruce, of course.
Damn, man, I'm goin' to Amsterdam
Saturday night in Dusseldorf was good. Five of us went: Roland and his brother Alex, Roland's friends Ayman and Auggie, and me. Roland drove the family Mercedes for the half-hour ride from Essen to Dusseldorf, the main part of it on the famed German Autobahn. We hit our top speed of 220 kph, which converts to somewhere around 135 mph. And I guess as a testament to German engineering, I guessed out loud that we were only doing around 90 mph, then Alex pointed to the speedometer; man was that a smooth 135!
When we got there, the guys wanted to get some food, so we went to Subway. Inside there was a television with MTV on, so we watched some Jackass. From there we went to get ice cream at McDonald's. When we walked out of there, I joked with Ayman that I would return home to tell all my friends that I went to Dusseldorf to hang out at Subway and Mickey D's. He laughed, but I was ready to hit some true German bars.
We went to a few places that really showcased the stereotypical German pub/club environment: a lot of 80s music, mostly American but some German, to which the DJ would turn the volume down during the chorus so the whole place could sing it out loud, and this was nearly every song. The one song I remember was "Eye of the Tiger" because it reminded me of course of Rocky, which in turn reminded me of Phila.
After bouncing around to a few places we ended up at O'Reilly's Irish Pub, where they had karaoke (very popular here).
Well, after driving back from Dusseldorf, we stopped off to walk through Essen's small red light district. It was very interesting for me to see these women just sitting or standing in the windows of these places.
We got home at 3:30 in the morning, I had just enough energy to check online to see that Temple won the A-10 championship (which made me very happy), then I went to bed. I woke up this morning just before noon, which means that I'm totally refueled to push hard for the rest of my time here in Deutschland.
Well, time to go. Two of Roland's other friends just came by, and they are our ride to Amsterdam (about a 2 hour ride west of here). I'll be sure to take lots of photos. Alrightie then, check ya later!
When we got there, the guys wanted to get some food, so we went to Subway. Inside there was a television with MTV on, so we watched some Jackass. From there we went to get ice cream at McDonald's. When we walked out of there, I joked with Ayman that I would return home to tell all my friends that I went to Dusseldorf to hang out at Subway and Mickey D's. He laughed, but I was ready to hit some true German bars.
We went to a few places that really showcased the stereotypical German pub/club environment: a lot of 80s music, mostly American but some German, to which the DJ would turn the volume down during the chorus so the whole place could sing it out loud, and this was nearly every song. The one song I remember was "Eye of the Tiger" because it reminded me of course of Rocky, which in turn reminded me of Phila.
After bouncing around to a few places we ended up at O'Reilly's Irish Pub, where they had karaoke (very popular here).
Well, after driving back from Dusseldorf, we stopped off to walk through Essen's small red light district. It was very interesting for me to see these women just sitting or standing in the windows of these places.
We got home at 3:30 in the morning, I had just enough energy to check online to see that Temple won the A-10 championship (which made me very happy), then I went to bed. I woke up this morning just before noon, which means that I'm totally refueled to push hard for the rest of my time here in Deutschland.
Well, time to go. Two of Roland's other friends just came by, and they are our ride to Amsterdam (about a 2 hour ride west of here). I'll be sure to take lots of photos. Alrightie then, check ya later!
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Crunken dork in Dusseldorf
Or something like that. With an hour and a half nap just accomplished, I've quickly upped the ante, and decided that I simply must go out on a Saturday night (oooh! oooh!, it's Saturday, sticky icky icky icky). This means that we will go to Dusseldorf. Have fun tonight back in the Two One Fifth! And your humble ambassador will do likewise here.
Note bene: I saw the Bochum - Stuttgart match earlier today, which ended 1-1. Details to follow retroactively. But it's time to get proactive now, ya dig?
Note bene: I saw the Bochum - Stuttgart match earlier today, which ended 1-1. Details to follow retroactively. But it's time to get proactive now, ya dig?
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