12/14: statements and logic

assuming that your not in law school or are studying philosophy...

have you ever come across practical logic?

maybe it was in a book you were reading or someone was telling you all the crazy stuff they learned the other day from their philosophy teacher.

so practical logic...it usually sounds funny, looks funny, makes no sense- basically it goes against everything modern english has shoved into our brains, but...there's something about it that pretty much boils down to the truth.

but not just any truth- "logical" truth.

i took an argumentation class once. it was suppose to fulfill one of my gen-eds, but apparently it didn't count for a qualitative and formal reasoning credit, so i had to take logic of arithmetic, which was pretty much the same thing.

two times learning that shit and guess what...i still don't get it.

so i wont be here to tell you logical truth, what assumptions are, if p actually equals q, or what really makes a good or bad argument. pheww.

i guess the reason why i never understood this whole "logic" idea is because there are some things that just cannot be defined by logic, they can only be defined by what you make of them (and because p certainly DOES NOT equal q)

in my argumentation class junior year and i got to this statement in my book. i seriously don't remember the entire sentence, but it read.....something, something..."figure it out and ask for it"

apparently the rest of the sentence was a huge red flag for fallacies but i missed it.

i probably messed with that sentence for an hour- mixing the words around until the sentence was "logical"

on hour 2 i said fuck it and came up with this...

[sentence]..."figure out what you want, and learn how to ask for it"

funny- the statement itself seems logical. not word part specific or whatever, but actually real life practical. logic?

go figure, i get it wrong- only to find out that exact same sentence was in a movie i was watching this past weekend. so im telling myself that if it's in a reese witherspoon movie then its fine.

that statement wasn't all that logically wrong. maybe not to the qualifications of my argumentation theory teacher- but that statement has practical, real life logic.

im almost certain that you've heard this statement before...let the chips fall where they may?

well, seems to me that lately the people i know- not excluding myself on this one at all...they're chips seem to be hurled into space. they don't fall, but they don't land. 

un-logical?

you know what the problem with people in these situations is?

they don't know what they want.

-even if they did know what they wanted, they don't know how to ask for it.

it seems so logical that if you figure out what you want and you learn how to ask for it- things in life would be ten times easier, right?

so why is it that people don't do it?

i wish i knew.

last night i owned up to this little bit of logic that i think to be correct. i knew what i wanted. it wasn't something big, not necessarily small either (hell- it could have been a candy bar) but i knew what i wanted. step one complete. then i asked for it.

here the logical red flag im sure that goes off in your head...how to ask for it?

tricky. this is where most people fail. and when i mean fail, they fail miserably.

obviously every situation, person, event, candy bar is different- so asking for it will vary. do you take a subtle approach? vigorous? caring? hostile? do you ask it in a letter? an email? in person? a text? face to face? over the phone? is it direct? or is it obscure?

nonetheless, you find a way to get what you want. if whatever it is doesn't come to you right away, or down the road...you know what you want and you are trying to find ways to get it.

but what if you cant do anything about it? well, that's not an option.

of course you can. eventually you have to learn to surrender to this unknown chain of events that happen in life.  if you don't you become one of the cowards of the world who will leave it at knowing exactly what they want and not doing anything about it.

if asking for what you want scares you- don't let it. its unnecessary to play down your eccentricities. you set your own expectations, so what people expect shouldn't be a reason.

i wish my teacher could see that little bit of logic i had in figuring out what you want and learning how to ask for it. because if you know what you want and you find a way to ask for it- then you are likely speaking the truth.

you don't beat around the bush and there are no fallacies. its simply just the truth. (logic- eh!)

figure out what you want and learn how to ask for it.

that's my C+ average logical advice to all those people out there with floating chips in space, for those truth-seekers and those people who are still trying to bridge the gap of asking for what it is they want.

do it and see what happens. the big things in life will iron themselves out eventually. that is all.

12/3: being 10

remember back when you were 10?

no. what was that...3rd grade?

if you forgot, here are the few words you can probably associate with being 10 years old to get that image back in your head:

double digits. "yay high". kid. awkward. disney channel. limited too. crazy bones. roller blades. space jam. four eyes. lockers. mambo #5.  I-SATS. jell pens. annoying. pony-tails. recess. pokemon cards. the giver. conniving. heads-up seven-up.

all that summed up...why would you ever want to remember when you were 10?

what? no past regrets of trading your charmander card for poneta?

or spending your allowance money on dr. pepper flavored smuckers chapstick?

...maybe it was watching the boy next to draw stick figures that were always battling each other?

making mix-tapes from the radio?

no, of course not- it was definitely rocking out to your first CD ever...Smashmouth.

is it just me, or was 10 just as memorable as years 8-12? you know you lived it, you remember the trends, fads, the kids you liked, your friends, the lunch room, it was all fine and dandy...but you just cant pin-point exactly what you were like or what your motives were at that age.

as much as i didn't really want to re-live being 10 years old- the kid i babysit for made me (that and the $20 cash an hour was enough of a reason to do it)

so friday night i was set to babysit. normally its the good-ole make the kid some dinner, watch a movie, put her to bed, raid the fridge and watch tv until you see lights pull into the driveway. then make it look like you've been reading and the kid went to bed 2 hrs ago instead of 20 mins ago.

but this babysitting trip it was a little different. there was a christmas walk in town and dinner on friday nights was always at Jade Dragon.

(okay...free meal, and being outside, $20 an hr- cool)

we get there and immediately im thinking "get me some egg rolls- im starving!"

the town was packed. everyone had a dog and about 2 kids each. the parents were holding their dogs and drinking but their kids were out terrorizing the main street.

the ice sculptures had been carved and were starting to form large puddles in the street. the kid's train was being driven by a very large, old man while a midget dressed as a conductor was loading kids into the wagons. 

the D.A.R.E. cops all had on these old-school uniforms that looked like something out of a black and white movie. and all the high-school kids (letter-mans jackets in all) went up to them at intervals through out the night to get their two-cent jokes in before driving off to some one's friday night basement party because their parents were out.

oh and Radio Disney AM 1300 was there with 100 girls, probably ages 7-11 huddled around the fence like a would-be justin bieber concert while the parents hung around in the back sipping on their spiked cider. lucky for me- it happened to be right across the chinese place.

here i am, thinking the plan..."lets go get food first and then walk around" 

"no, i need to find someone!!"  (shutdown)

"who do you need to find? theres a line- don't you want egg rolls?"

"i just...need to find someone- lets go"

clearly this kid was on the hunt for someone. i let her drag me in zig-zags through the main street- passing the chinese place 5 times praying she gets hungry so i can eat while also justifying the reason im being dragged around because im "a cool babysitter"

"who are you looking for?"

"just this kid- common"

im taken by the hand and submerged in the justin bieber crowd of 10 year olds all jumping up and down to the Phineus and Ferb theme song being broadcasted from downtown hinsdale via radio disney.

kids these days- they love that show. and you know who else they love- one direction. anyway.

three girls- maybe in their 20s with microphones and high-pitched voices are leading the crowd- "okay, so you know will smith?" "YEAHHHH!" "do you know his daughter Willow?" YEAHHHH!" "can you tell me what willows song is?? that's right, "whip your hair back and forth"!! now, who is ready to whip their hair back and forth? parents? raise your hand high!" 

(4 parents are voluenteered by their kids)

im dead center, in 10 year old heaven- towering over these kids, i am shoved by the kid im babysitting into the "volunteered parents" group.

confused and trying to run out of the group, the radio disney girl takes my hand and brings me up (the parents look at me like im some sort of teen-mom)

"lets here it for the parents!!!!! now, who's ready to whip their hair back and forth???"

after stating our names and what we like to do for fun- we (Kathy, Chad, Donna, Karen, and I) were told to start whipping our hair to the entire song while all the kids were screaming and cheering us on.

ive been embarrassed before. but this 100% took the cake. i had managed to make it onto radio disney on a friday night at 9pm, whipping my hair, back and forth to a willow smith song...how?

thank god Chad took away the show with his buzz-cut so i could get the hell out of there.

"okay, who is this kid- im hungry and you just forced me to go up there- you owe me."

"his name is Matt"

(are you kidding me!!! i walked around town for 45 mins, whipped my hair back and forth to a crowd of 100 kids and parents that i probably work with, and i haven't eaten since 2- all. for. a. boy!!!)

"but i cant find him, so lets just go get food"

she looked pretty disappointed- like all this searching was pointless. i put aside my horrible radio disney experience and my extreme need for food. i thought for a second as i watched a christmas tree dance to the final song of the radio broadcast...

"no- we are finding this kid!"

there is was- the 10 year old motive...getting a boy to notice you. surrounded by the 10 year old determination to find him.

i thought back to being 10- i was the same way. i would have done anything to get the kid i had a crush on to talk to me.

we walked around for 20 more minutes. searching everything from the kids train to the ice sculptures. on the 8th trip past Jade Dragon i put our names in for a table and sure enough- who walks out as we're walking in- the kid named Matt.

shell-shocked and starry-eyed...all she said was "hi" and he smiled back...

and that was being 10 years old.

i guess there are some ages that you forget about. but when you get to experience them now- they're pretty funny. because really, when you were 10 years old...all you wanted was to be noticed and if you did it, you walked away with nothing more than a smile. simple as that.

but please, dont relive them like i did- because you'll end up on radio disney with a free one direction poster and a horrible case of food poising from those fucking egg rolls that you waited all night for.

but- you will be the "coolest babysitter ever"

that's is all.

11/19: holyy-holidays

yes. holy-shit...the holidays.

no surprise- they're back.

if you are like me and have been ignoring 93.9's Christmas music since Nov. 1, hobby lobby's Christmas ornaments on display since Halloween and oh yeah...have just starting telling yourself this morning "what- thanksgiving is on Thursday?"

well...merry holiday season!

while you were sleeping- the hell that is the holidays crept up on you and sprinkled magic fairy dust, allowing you to smell the Yankee holiday candles from Yorktown mall and see the wonderful professional holiday light decorations down the street.

making you somewhat cringe and say "why do they have their lights out already?"

not to mention the carol of commercials that all of a sudden appeared on your TV with warnings that the best holiday door-busters are not actually on black Friday, but on thanksgiving while your eating. not to mention the wonderful Christmas tunes that you hear when your half-passed out trying to watch season re-runs of true-life.

(i do love Hersey kisses- just not as bells wrapped up in red and green foil playing We Wish You a Merry Christmas at 1 am)

don't get me wrong- theres nothing more exciting than family, food, and seasonal festivities that is the holidays. just not the chaos that goes around outside the days of Nov. 22, Dec. 25, and Dec. 31.

for one...thanksgiving. (my all time favorite holiday)

possibly one of the rudest awakenings of the holidays there are.

so you have Halloween- then all of a sudden...BAM, theres a turkey in your fridge, and you open up our garbage to discover all the uneaten candy that's been hibernating in your freezer for the past 3 weeks.

every year (or at least for the past several years) my mom hosts thanksgiving at our house. usually around 20 people, some random guest my mom decides doesn't have family and adopts for dinner, between 5-10 grown men all competing for the best looking mustache, paddle ball, football, and loads of beer. a 2 day event that leaves us pretty pumped for the next round come Christmas, until it actually comes. 

and of course...every year i continue to tell my mom "why do you host thanksgiving, you know it just stresses you out..." (i usually don't get much after that)

the last 4 years being away at school...i guess i kind of forgot what actually goes on the weekend before everyone arrives. well, i kept that same level of stress in mind and made sure i was out of the house all weekend.  why...?

well, let me tell you- my mom's vacuum cleaner becomes godzilla. it starts from the basement and moves it way upstairs, demolishing everything in its path. if there is so-help-us...one speck of dust on the carpet, you better believe that that vacuum cleaner has demolished it. you name it- the vacuum cleaner has conquered it....drawers, the oven, the outside deck, cans of soup, plants...yeah- its been there. 

and if you even think of sneaking into the arrangements of Costco products that are chillin in your refrigerator before the big day- you might get some comment that hints you ruined the appetizers.

by Saturday night- the table is completely set (only to be moved around in the coming days until just perfect) and all the furniture has been moved around to fit the swarm of people that will be there.

i usually scratch my head at the fact that one chair can be moved 8 different times to a different spot of a house and get asked "does it look good here?" (mom, its a chair- someone is only going to sit in it.) or if the screens out of the windows make the house look brighter. (sure?)

my mom is on a rampage to make the house suitable for people who are only going to be thinking- "is the turkey ready yet"

while my mom is out fighting dust and assortments of dinner dishes, im in my room (which surprisingly has not been touched by the vacuum only because its been named a hazardous waste sight, which really only has one or two piles of cloths on the floor).

little do people know, my sister and i make the holidays a game:

seeing who can eat the most out of our thanksgiving tri-fecta, if you ate every one of Nana's fish courses at Christmas, who got what for who, who is going to calm down mom first, tell dad we want to play football instead of eating more, who emptied the dishwasher last, how many times each we are told that god is watching us by our grandmother, if we can recall the last year our other grandmother even came to thanksgiving, and who can hold their sanity by 1am when everyone comes home drunk and starts to play ping-pong.

being kids of a divorce- you have to go through holiday stuff..not once...but twice!

yes. 2 turkeys. 2 family gatherings. 2 Christmas dinners. 2 gift unwrapping. 2 church visits. everything in 2s. it sounds all peaches and cream, especially the 2 presents part- but its not.

this year and last year my dad has thankfully made it simple and stuck to a bunch instead of his version of thanksgiving dinner consisting of individual cornish hens and his flavor of the month (girlfriend's) family dinner..all before 4pm when we go to our moms for dinner. (3 thanksgivings!)

and once you cant fit one more bit of turkey-something in your stomach, thanksgiving has ended. only to be followed by 2 more holidays.

its like a never ending cycle- vicious to say the least. it actually might suck the life out of you (well, if your my mom). but after that, you will spend the weekend recovering- head back to work, school, whatever until you realize...its not over- its just started.

why is that? Christmas. time to get your ass to the mall. because once you have made your final vows that you cannot eat one more leftover- you better believe your mom has already exchanged all your fall stuff for an endless supply of wreaths, garland, Christmas trees, and a 6 man set of Santa's that will creepily look at you on your way to the bathroom, the fridge, and while your watching tv.

your turkeys will be exchanged for holiday ham- or in my dads case, 20 different types of fish. you will race to get everyone something that will cost about 20 bucks each (maybe 40 if you really liked that person that year) and get your dog a holiday bone. you will pray that there will be a snow day, or at the very least some form of snow. you will double check to make sure your stocked up on champagne because morning mimosas are a must, and of course, catch a few flicks on 25 Days of Christmas.

next round of family fun- coming right up.

but don't worry- after that you can unwind. why? because new years eve you will be getting hammered. there wont be a care in the world. you will party all night long- get asked about what your new years resolution is and probably wont remember a whole lot after that cab ride home. you'll wake up remembering telling someone that your awful new years resolution was working out- which wont happen. and like all other holiday's- you will have a horrible hangover. 

you'll be starting off your new year in bed (or on someones floor)- watching tv with a bottle of asprin and water- wondering when your friends will wake up because all you want is bacon.

but no matter what you will be happy. its a brand new year.

take a deep breath right now...because come Thursday- the holidays have begun! have fun all. that is it.

11/8: the great escape

i would like to tell you that at some moment in your life you will have at least one epiphany.

im not religious at all, really- so nothing i say is going to have any correlation with some divine being like they say when epiphanies happen. no- they happen for you- for yourself, by yourself.

with that aside, i do believe that an epiphany is something divine in itself...

its that moment where you finally, after all this time have figured something out.

you have finally found the meaning of something, a path to find that something, or have finally figured out that theres more you can do...

that everything right now...is just not "it"

its a break-through, a realization, an "ah ha" moment, a solution, an innovative idea, a deeper acknowledgment, a discovery, an adventure, a light-bulb that goes off in your head, a "click"

-something, anything that makes you take that one giant leap somewhere, anywhere- suddenly.

it's brought about by something simple or timely, through an occurrence or an experience.
but whatever it is...it brings out some sort of courage, understanding, or great adventure that you never thought you were capable of.

i have had two true epiphanies so far.

my first- was the day after i got back from spain the summer before my junior year in college.

i had spent two weeks visiting family i had never met, and seeing places i had never heard of. places where running with bulls was just as common as being covered in wine. i had no expectations for the trip other than to live vicariously through the movie "sisterhood of the traveling pants"...but without the sister, and without the pants.

it was one of those trips where not going with the flow would have landed me out on the other side of the window, looking in on all the fun.

jumping off cliffs, watching my step brother tackle a bush, passing a fat one around a pool while attempting to throw peanuts in a floating can, being stuck in the trunk of a clown car, the world cup and street riots with waterfalls, long nights, fireworks, people, places, and family- i never looked in on the fun.

i got back- and out of no where- my epiphany.

....i needed to go back. 

right then and there, i didn't care what any one was going to tell me, i didn't know how it was going to happen, where the money was going to come from, if id be alone- but i was going to go back. i needed to. it was something i needed to do for myself. if i didn't, i would regret it forever.

at that moment i had realized that the experience i had just had didn't have to be it. it didn't have to end. it was only just the beginning...

within 4 months of Spain i was back...only in the Netherlands. (i told you, i was going to find a way)

my first epiphany allowed me to take one giant leap into an unknown world with courage i never thought i had. 

so what got me on the topic of epiphanies you ask?

well...one of my best friends told me today she had an epiphany. i knew it was a true epiphany because it reminded me of mine, only a different situation. i asked her what it was...

"well basically, it was: why the fuck am i here. i could be anywhere in the entire world. i could be doing anything. i could be swimming in the ocean right now. or skiing or teaching or something, whatever. why am i trying to start a career? it's not going to happen right now. i honestly think i am better off working in a restaurant in some place where i am really happy and experiencing life, than i am sitting at a computer all day for free and starting a "career." i can come back to my career whenever. i will probably have way better chances if i came back to it rejuvenated rather than plug along with no direction like i'm doing."

and there it was. the epiphany.

the break-through, the light-bulb- the moment when you realize that life is what you make it and there so much more that you can do for yourself. there is a solution. there is a way.

....its the beginning. the start of an adventure. the great escape.

and she found it.

i guess every one's epiphanies are different. maybe they're like snowflakes? the same idea, but no two are alike. nothing short of remarkable to say the least!

if one moment can be the beginning to something new, something huge- life altering and brilliant, wouldn't you say its a divine? maybe.

so here's my questions to you...

if perceptions lead to behaviors, can our epiphanies bring adventure into our lives?

absolutely. i know for a fact that we can make the choice to do anything we want.

to leave the nest, to love, to grow up, to be with the person you want to be with, to travel, exercises, stay in bed, get the job, cut your hair, move to california whatever- we can actually make that choice come alive. that one little epiphany- its sustainable, and ever-deepening.

i realized from my second epiphany i decided i wanted to bring love alive, not simply as a mysterious experience beyond my control but as a living principle.

i figure every ones lives are so different and complex that maybe an epiphany hasn't yet struck- or maybe it has and you can relate to this in some way? remember...snowflakes.

i guess no matter what, if you have or have not had an epiphany- they happen. and when they do, you act upon it.

its a beginning. its the great escape. and its not just "it."

11/1: king of kostner

remember those drives with my dad i was talking about earlier? you know, the on-the-verge-of-death car rides...

well, im going to give you a slight sub-story to those morning drives.

again- you may think im kidding. believe me- i thought it was a joke too. until i actually saw it.

it was the night before i started my job- and really what the hell was i suppose to think a morning drive would be like? a cup of coffee, music, and the beautiful slums of chicago via an open window until smell of broccoli-sewage stated to take over?

besides my dads driving- yeah, nothing too out of the ordinary.

"oh so, yeah- it will be a good drive tomorrow. theres this guy i pass every morning whos boxing with a stick. i call him the "king of kostner"- really cool dude. you'll see him."

(ok?...so im going to pass a statue of a boxer with a stick...is there some sort of story behind this, dad?)

i'll be brutally honest about the Kostner Ave area...its a shit-hole.

by the time you hit the second gas station you might see prostitutes or crack-heads, and extreme loitering outside of the liquor store as if it were black friday and the doors haven't opened yet. there are 3 burnt down buildings, an L stop, multiple boarded up houses, some shady business with barbed wire fences, and some sell-all convenient stores before you hit the highway.

(annnd really- this area isnt even that bad...im just painting the picture since some people have zero idea what im talking about)

so anyway- back to the story.

"the..king- of kostner?" (okay)

"yeah- don't worry, you'll see him"

in my head im envisioning some old 1960s statue of a Mohammad Ali boxer-type, holding a stick with some plaque explaining how he was born in the ghetto and became a star. only being given the name "the king" after he fought off his arch rival the next town over.

...clearly i misinterpreted this "statue" the next morning.

i had just about fallen asleep by the time we got halfway down kostener, dead set on the idea that theres no way im getting up at 5:30am again

"LOOK! THERE HE IS!"

(take me word for word on this...)

outside my window there is an old man- maybe in his late 60s, wearing a vest, some beat up shoes, and holding a staff- not a stick...a staff- throwing punches..giving uppercuts, and ducking to imaginary punches...all while walking along side kostner ave mumbling something to himself.

my dad gives a honk (which i later find out is part of his routine)

he proceeds to look up at my dad and i driving by and waves his Rafikki-like staff in the air, while pointing and shouting something that i would think would have sound like  "what the fuck are you honking at ass-hole"

no- not at all, the windows are rolled up.

"hahah, he does this every day! man, that guy has got to be in some great shape! did you see those moves he was throwing? that's why i call him the "king""

.........................................(aaaa- what....?)

my jaw was dropped. i wish i had a video- because literally me writing it doesn't even do itself justice. its a homeless man, probably on something, holding a staff and throwing punches into the air! every morning, every day, on the same street!

"dad. please don't tell me you honk at him everyday?"

"of course i do- ive talked to him a few times- hes just out here doing this thing"

(there was a slight moment where my train of thought shifted to my dad making friends with homeless people...but then i thought- no way)

well, this morning- i was wrong again.

stopped at a stop light there he was on the corner, boxing his way to the opposite side of the street. (my dad rolls down his window)

"hey! so when are you going to be the champion?" (like it was some ongoing joke between them)

he starts walking closer, still boxing...

"im out here fighting ghetto-trash all day!"

(nooo way- i couldn't tell whether i wanted to laugh- so i just partially dropped my jaw- trying not to look like i had just seen a naked man run across the street)

"well all right, man- you take it easy!"

he smiles, you see about 8 teeth- "you know i will" and he resumes boxing.

for the last 4 months i have watched this man box his way up and down the street, wondering what makes him want to do this every morning, and this was the first time i had heard him speak (yes, about "ghetto. trash") and i couldn't help but think...

man- this guy really is just out here doing his thing.

so i soaked that in for a minute. it was an experience. and i could think nothing else of it. here was a man who yes- may be a homeless Rocky out fighting ghetto-trash on kostner ave... but he did it everyday.

it was his thing and he loved doing it.

...i think that's why they call him "the king"

that is all.

10/29: inbox (1)

back in the day- before emails, cell phones, text messages, voice mail- there were letters. (what, real letters?)

YES! actual letters where the other half of the conversation was postponed for days, maybe even weeks until the other person replied.

i read the most wonderful letter once. it was by John Steinbeck in 1958 to his son at boarding school- who believed he fell in love.

(if you don't know him- hes the guy who wrote East of Eden and Of Mice and Men- that guy).

seriously if you haven't read this before- read through his letter first before you read anything else- it is wonderful...

Dear Thom:

We had your letter this morning. I will answer it from my point of view and of course Elaine will from hers.

First — if you are in love — that’s a good thing — that’s about the best thing that can happen to anyone. Don’t let anyone make it small or light to you.

Second — There are several kinds of love. One is a selfish, mean, grasping, egotistical thing which uses love for self-importance. This is the ugly and crippling kind. The other is an outpouring of everything good in you — of kindness and consideration and respect — not only the social respect of manners but the greater respect which is recognition of another person as unique and valuable. The first kind can make you sick and small and weak but the second can release in you strength, and courage and goodness and even wisdom you didn’t know you had.

You say this is not puppy love. If you feel so deeply — of course it isn’t puppy love.

But I don’t think you were asking me what you feel. You know better than anyone. What you wanted me to help you with is what to do about it — and that I can tell you.

Glory in it for one thing and be very glad and grateful for it.

The object of love is the best and most beautiful. Try to live up to it.

If you love someone — there is no possible harm in saying so — only you must remember that some people are very shy and sometimes the saying must take that shyness into consideration.

Girls have a way of knowing or feeling what you feel, but they usually like to hear it also.

It sometimes happens that what you feel is not returned for one reason or another — but that does not make your feeling less valuable and good.

Lastly, I know your feeling because I have it and I’m glad you have it.

We will be glad to meet Susan. She will be very welcome. But Elaine will make all such arrangements because that is her province and she will be very glad to. She knows about love too and maybe she can give you more help than I can.

And don’t worry about losing. If it is right, it happens — The main thing is not to hurry. Nothing good gets away.

Love,
Fa

i never liked the idea of writing a letter until i read this.

too me- it was odd because it was something no one did anymore. something that your grandparents did when they were off fighting world wars or separated by an ocean. we live in a world were instantaneous conversations are allowed to happen, so what would be the point of waiting a week to get a reply?

well, my sister told me something a few weeks ago that made me realize a letter could be useful. 

"you cant comprehend something over the phone"

sure you could...but at that moment i was on the verge of a very non-practical, throw yourself in front of a bus- tell all, awkward yet overwhelming phone conversation...and to be completely honest- i couldn't even comprehend myself saying it either. 

"just send an email"

(okay, okay- letters like Steinbeck's are now in emails and wayyy less formal- whatever, its the 21st century)

so i did it.

my letter- sent...and awaiting a reply.

i love Steinbeck's letter because its written from what he knows to be true. which is the same reason i wrote mine.

the thing is- we never find out what happened with Thom, or what he did after he got this letter. (probably the greatest letter ever written)  if Steinbeck said this over the phone- Thom would have been like "okay dad- i don't understand" or have asked 1000 questions with "what if" and "why."

letters are nice because they allow you to tell what you know, and give you time to comprehend it...if and only if you are one to open up for something un-comprehendable.

i don't really know what will come of my letter. its not like today where you send a text message and get a "read" or a check mark next to the name if the person has opened it. or a voicemail saying "got your message-call me back." it could have been very nicely placed in the "deleted items" section of windows outlook. who knows.

Steinbeck's words of wisdom are so optimistic and timeless. there's nothing short of the absolute truth in what he says.

i wonder if letters written in 2012 could have any of the same significance they did back in 1958? if people are still able to comprehend them in the same way?

its possible?

i guess if you don't get a response to your letter then your no Steinbeck.

if the world still values your efforts of truth and optimism then a letter will do some good (no response? oh well...)

phones, text messages, all that- if you want someone to see exactly what you want them to see- well write a letter for them to comprehend it (also if your feeling ballsy)

as the man himself says- "don’t worry about losing. if it is right, it happens — the main thing is not to hurry. nothing good gets away"

that's it.

10/22: never know

senior year of high school we were allowed to have a favorite quote at the bottom of our picture in the yearbook.

it's great to look back at them and see how immature we all were back then with our inside party jokes, takes on "i'd tap that" or see how much influence Tupac still had on half our class.

at the time, i remember getting that stupid note card and wondering what the hell id write down. would i pick something someone else already chose? or would i pick something i'd look back on in 10 years and say, wow- high school sucked.

for my yearbook quote i literally just wrote down the title to one of my favorite songs at the time. so under my senior year picture, class of 2008- there i am, with the quote "Never Know" taken from the song by Jack Johnson. (so cool, i know)

i never really told anyone my reasoning behind that quote. i guess at the time all i wanted to do was get out of that place so i didnt tell anyone...

i kept to myself for a good amount of those 4 years. i entered the worlds most cliquey high school as an outsider. all the "feeder" middle school kids were not from my junior high district and all of my best friends went to another high school. if you knew who i was...it was probably because i sat behind you in class. which by then- we would have become friends on one level or another.

truth be told...there is a reason why i picked "never know" as my senior year quote.

since cross-country was half my life throughout high school, i would be lying to you if i said that it didn't have any influence on the person i am today. it was a good time, and i learned a lot

beside the fact that i could run a 19:00 three mile and fake a stomach cramp, i learned how to balance school, work, sports, and horses in one day and still have time for myself.

our coach would spend at least an hour after practice going over stats, improvements, meets, and to our dismay was able to squeeze a "quote of the day" plus logic, before it hit 7:00p. we'd sit around and stare at each other half the time wondering if he was ever going to stop talking so we could go home.

after an 8 mile run when all the other sports teams left the last thing we wanted to do was sit and listen to our coach pour more useless crap into our brains while dinner at home was getting cold and we had piles of homework to get done. "and just remember before you leave...(7:05)...every great achievement is the result of a heart on fire....now get out of here" (thank god)

as much as i hated the man, he did have one good "quote of the day." it was the same quote he used every friday before a meet for all 4 years of high school," and it was the only quote i still love today...

"expect nothing, be prepared for anything"

the only reason i didn't want to use this quote in the yearbook was because i didn't want to quote the man who told me to take a hike for wanting to take ACT prep classes instead of training for indoor track.

so instead i picked my own version of this quote, which ended up being "never know" (thank you Jack Johnson)

1 year (20 cross country meets, 30 track meets, and all of summer running) for four years has taught me to "expect nothing, be prepared for anything"

no surprise- it's still stuck to me.

back then it only referred to race day where 3 miles later you would know you took a chance to reach your goal time or you were going to be stuck running the "big hill" at KLM come tuesday's practice.

now- its just a nice quote to fall back on for all the chances you take that are associated with "unknowns"

there are always going to be those times where you just don't know what will happen next. something could be so far out of your control that the outcome could be anything. or maybe everything is in your control, but your next move is some undistinguished blip on your radar

you don't know. actually- you never will know.

if you took a chance, you should accept that anything could happen.

taking chances is like voluntarily playing a game of russian roulette- you know the gun is loaded and you still put it up to your head and hope you make it out alive. you put it there because your ready to take the chance.

if you pull the trigger and live to see the next day, i'd say it was one hell of a game.

although you don't have a gun to your head when you finally take that chance on someone or something, anything could happen. its just in your best interest to not expect something that's out of your control.

in high school i never accepted that my last race time was my best time. i knew i could do better- so come race day i'd see if the chance i took worked. during the week it was hell, but by the time the gun went off on saturday morning- i had 3 miles to make it happen. if it didn't- at least i tried.

today is the same thing. you cant just accept something because someone told you that's what you deserve. you cant expect that past outcomes will repeat themselves. and of course, you cant hold back from taking a chance because you're afraid of what will follow

you wont know what will happen. so whats stopping you?

looking back at that quote yesterday- i think i should have probably picked something cute and innocent for my yearbook quote. keep the same Jack Johnson motif..."Sitting, Waiting, Wishing"??? (if i lived by that i would have owwwned that "big hill" at KLM)

take a chance, expect nothing- but be prepared for anything. that's it.

10/16: notes from the peanut gallery

every morning at 7:10, a black infiniti pulls up to my house and gives 2 honks...that's my que- (shit, the day has started...why is it only tuesday?) 

if your lucky to commute with your parents to work via car (even half the time)-

1. it will save you a quarter of a months rent
2. you get to sleep in the car and fight last nights happy hour and/or lack of sleep
3. you avoid the CTA and parking
4. experience what your parents have been doing in the car for the last 30yrs without you

exciting? no of course not- your 22 years old and your driving with your dad...to work!

if i was 17 and i got a ride to school every morning it would be frowned upon- this is worse. but if im saving around 200 dollars a month, id say hey- smart. but...somewhere someones saying- "does your dad pick you up in front of the office too?" (no.)

it used to be the alarm at 11am and a 5 min put-on-cloths and run to class. now 6:30am, 20 min get-ready and a 1.5 hr commute with my ever-so-shocking dad through a traffic war where its every driver for himself (when i don't take the train, of course). 4 months later, im still alive.

i'll warn you- this is not Driving Ms. Daisy. theres nothing short of near death experiences, whiplash, tight turns, tire skids, engine revving, racial slur spitting goodness of my morning commute with my dad. the passenger seat has become my own peanut gallery of observation and entertainment. but then again..its 7am and i need a few of those to wake me up...

the notes- well they start here: at 50, my italian father (nicknamed dago-joe), a new car- streakless windows, a double shot of espresso with ice, Led Zeppelin on full volume, sunglasses on and 2 honks at 7:10am.

"hey dad." "so, how was your night, did you do anything?" usually amounting to a variation of:

1. "nope"
2. "i never do anything"
3. "went horseback riding"
4. "watched a movie"
5. "went to bed by 10"

"cool" (que Pink Floyd).

whats awesome is that our conversations only last 2 mins if and only if we actually talk the entire hour and a half. ive learned not to say a word while my dads driving or comment on the fact that he blows through 4 red lights a day on average. why? well because hes been driving to work alone for 30 years and has his routine down to a science. you have 3 options...

1. keep conversations to the 3-Ws: the weather, the weekend, work
2. don't speak, look out the window
3. sleep (watch out, you will be woken up by grinding stops or yelling)

we don't take the highway like normal drivers do on their morning commute. there is no way in HELL my dad would take the highway even if there was no one on the road. driving with my dad- we take "the back roads."

back roads: a combination of 30-40mph side streets in the direction of the city- usually involving Ogden Ave, Kostner, Roosevelt, I-290, Exit 28B, Ogden Ave, various streets in West Loop, Grand St., Clark St., Wells St., Illinois St. (please note shady areas, people smoking crack in cars, large crowds of people in streets from 6p-7p, photo enforced lights, trains, construction, men walking in the middle of the street with shopping carts of the weekends garbage goodies, and enormous pot holes) if anything gets in your way, increase speed to 50mph, or veer into oncoming traffic or sidewalks. 

halfway down Ogden- my dad will start to play classical music on XM radio. by then the drive is already turning into a comedy...

mixed in with the endless lines of people trying to avoid cars making right and left hand turns on a 2 lane road you will get something in between curse words and vulgar comments- also not limited to racial slurs, all while listening to J.S. Bach's famous Brandenburg Concerto...

1. you fuck
2. what in the fuck do you think you are doing
3. look at this ass hole trying to get in front of me
4. look at this mexican, i see him all the time- some speedy gonzales
5. look at this guy- look at this guy! all a bunch of daredevils today

throw in a few n-words, a few more f-bombs, and a couple drive by death stares and you can safely say you've hit the half-way mark of your drive to or from work.

don't call your dad a racist- he will just say "theres a difference!" or "you have your car get a flat in this neighborhood and then tell me not to say that" or the famous "what- you saw that didn't you??" i tend not to question his judgement just because he grew up in mob-town chicago circa1960.

as you get closer to your destination you may start feel like you might be sick. make sure you don't eat anything until you get to work or have gotten home. all those tight turns, crash avoiding stops and random 0-50 spurts will be hard on your stomach for the first month. you may also want to rethink your morning coffee. (your dad can do it, but remember...hes a vet)

i want to say ive had some meaningful heart-to-hearts with my dad during our commutes. but so far all my life lessons have been narrowed down to...

1. learning how not to drive
2. how other people drive
3. how you should drive
4. how you need a horn (car horn) in life
5. "you never know what your going to get" (referring to traffic)

if your looking for a sentimental talk with your father...save it for dinner, or at the very least until your out of the car. confined spaces mixed with an unconventional atmosphere only lead to more gut-wrenching stops and 50mph peel-outs.

about 10 mins closer to your destination, the drive becomes a little more of joy ride where you may even be able to share a few laughs or laugh at some of your dads antics (unless your on a time crunch where speed and hardcore maneuvering become the only thing that matters).

its nice on the way home when i get to see how he texts and drives. its like watching ducks cross the street- he has no idea what to do. (common dad- its a 2:1 look-text ratio, its what all the kids are doing) its not so nice when your dad is single and your at a stop light. why? under those sunglasses he will look at all the women crossing the street and say "oh, shes pretty." (ew, get me out of this car- now)

if you have pissed my dad off at some point in life, have taken his "choice" parking spot, or are the lady that backed into him on my 2nd week of work- he will proceed to call you out for the person you are while pointing as you drive by. (note- do not be one of those people for you will be lectured on it everyday)

by the time the car enters the parking garage on the way to work or by the time you see the driveway of your house- the relief you will feel that you have survived a car ride will be enormous.

its no doubt that chicago drivers are their own species- but my dad...hes one of a kind. i don't understand the "your dad is awesome" comment, only because i see him doing this shit everyday and think hes crazy.

but- i guess it is a little awesome that he can make it to and from work without a scratch on his car or a pinched nerve in 1.5 hrs or less. appreciate your dad giving you a ride to work for these reasons...

1. its a free ride

2. its a free ride

3. its a free ride

and you also get to spend some time with your dad- even though he is a nut.

kiss the ground you walk on because the next ride with death is only 8 hrs away. that's it.

10/15: beauty in the eye of the beholder

between last fall and this fall the weather has no idea what to do with itself.

warm winter straight into the summer that never got under 80, no rain or snow. hell- the weather even screwed up the seasons. the weather channel told us that this years extreme weather were going to lead to a colorful fall. 

colorful is an understatement- i think this weekend mother nature had the hiccups... 

overcast and mist, torrential monsoon rain like something out of a vietnam film, funnel clouds, tornado sirens, warm breezes, cold 50mph gusts of wind, lightning, thunder- anything outside snow- you name it im pretty sure we had a few seconds of it this weekend.

with intermittent sun and calm- getting outside became a game.

incredibly, whenever i thought the weekend couldn't get any more boring and RetroWeekend on Comedy Central just didn't hit the spot- the weather let up just enough to go outside.

since ive been home, ive enjoyed walks around town, getting lost on streets while listening to music (classic rock, preferably). hours of wandering and thinking. even better, seeing the seasons change.

when i was in Amsterdam there was something beautiful about walking through the city when it sunny, but even more beautiful when it was raining; the colors were incredible.

it was amazing to see how greens and browns of a city could look one way in the light, but when it rained-looked their absolute best against a gray sky. (crazy)

after that- i have always loved being outdoors on a cloudy day.

while waiting for the rain to pass on saturday, someone popped into my mind while looking at the tree across the street slowly change from green to yellow. (this is what no obligations or responsibilities on a rainy weekend amounts to) 

-the leaves brought back a particular memory where i met this person. hes actually one of the most prominent people i know today. sure i still don't know everything about that person (i also think he probably thinks im an annoying gnat), but hes truly always been that person who has stood out in my mind as full of life.

like the tree across the street, this person is colorful, rich- even eye catching for anyone who walks by. i wanted to go with the colorful the weather channel pointed out- but instead there was better word...

 

vivid. 

well, after looking at that tree for about 3 mins and realizing the rain stopped, i decided to go for a walk. i grabbed my dog and my ipod- put on some rolling stone classics and spent the next 2 hours wandering the streets of suburbia.

for every vivid color i saw against the gray background of the sky- i took a picture. even though the town probably started to wonder who the weirdo was taking pictures while the tornado sirens were going off- i wanted to capture it before the incoming winds blew everything away.

why? because even vivid colors, like vivid people are meant to be appreciated for everything they are.

-that's it.