yeedl

yeedl

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done with it	[Nov. 21st, 2007\|05:59 pm]
yeedl.blogspot.com if you need an invite, email me and ill get you one. i decided i like it more than livejournal.
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lavalava	[Oct. 19th, 2007\|11:03 am]
im wearing a green pocket lava lava right now, i got it for around 30$ Tala. its very comfy and fits my height. its a save 34, im a size 32. they dont ever seem to have any lavalavas that are 32 or lower for adults. i think the kid ones start around size 26? there could be a few reasons for this, but prolly cuz its like a wraparound, if its too big, just wrap it more. there is another reason also. heim gidolim miod miod...maybe ill get someone to take a pic of me in it. its very comfy. traditionally, samoans sit cross legged at the edges of a fale. sitting this way can make your feet fall asleep and get numb and make you think your foot'll fall off. samoans are used to it but us palagi aren't. anyway...the solution to the numb effect, samoans told me, is to wiggle my big toe. why am i telling you this? if a samoan asks you how you are o a mai oe, you can totally respond with "luelue le vae matua" whats this mean? "my big toe is still moving." this response means you are good or fine. its a positive exclamation of mood. so, next time a samoan asks you how you are, tell em your big toe is still moving, eh? turkey tails are banned in samoa: http://www.rnzi.com/pages/news.php?op=read&id=34100 apparently, a turkey tail is like 99%fat and its been causing serious health issues in the country, like diabetes and high cholesterol. therefore, samoa decided to ban the import of turkey tail poultry in the country is imported. also, mutton flaps are huge in the country. i never knew what it was until a few days ago, when i saw some for sale. uhm. they arent the best of healthy foods, i can tell you that. but, they are very very popular here. these 2 meats have caused lots of disruption in the health of lots of the polynesian countries. i was told a scary percentage of samoans have diabetes. good, reliable statistics are not the easiest to come by, so i cant give you any. there is 1 dialysis clinic in samoa. samoa doesnt have malaria, but it does have dengue fever, which i reckon is the worst its got, which, comparetivly, makes me feel at ease w/r/t staying healthy. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dengue_fever the word is that there is no rabies in samoa. this is great, considering that there are dogs that are everywhere and they can get rather violent. i reckon a good comaprison would be with cats in israel, except dogs are scarier and tend to run after you if you are riding your bike or going for a run. we were advised to pick up a rock and yell angrily and that should do the job. samoans tend to have different views toward pets than we do... fa
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(no subject)

[Oct. 16th, 2007|08:58 pm]

malo!

cultural thing i didnt know existed in samoa til i got here:

http://www.abc.net.au/ra/pacific/people/hazy.htm

samoa's open market has nobody yelling. vendors are sitting on the ground, with tables 2 feet from the ground. its big, lots of products. not really any competition between people.

i asked for 1 starfruit for .50sene and i got 2, "one is for your friend." i asked for a small papaya and got a big one when i asked her to help me pick one out.

in america, i reckon, they'd want repeat customers. i was told that cheap product in samoa are at times easily parted with, if you are nice...

i experiened "white sunday" http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/White_Sunday yesterday. we went to a congregational church for it. services were in samoan. hmph, maybe after the pictures are posted by other ppl from my group, ill make some comments, maybe give a lil stori.

this week is the first week of actual samoan language training. eek.

i had my first ava ceremony the day we got in town. http://www.sawg.ws/publications.htm

then i had some more ava i bought from the market. makes your tongue numb-ish. it tastes not so good, has a cloudy, maybe frapicuno colored look. it makes ppl mellow. i disliked the taste. its widely drank here. wasnt my cup 'o tea. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kava it was like 5USD for a pack that would make around 10cups, which, if you can drink, will make your mouth numb, like teeth etc.. and make you have a yucky taste...but, your tongue would be numb, so you wouldnt be able to taste the yucky. got-it?

so far, i reckon i needa learn a tad more about samoa before i start making some judgements, eh? the idea of westernization and the western world, well, put it this way, the fa'a samoa, even in the city, is readily apparent. the cops (i went around for a couple of days demanding to know wear they hid their guns if they had a lavalava. apparently, no guns in samoa that are readily apparent, altho, i hear in the villages, things might be different. kidey liharog chayot..., . nor are there death penalty. and the prison has, uhm 200ppl in them? and with good behavior you can visit your family on weekends if your crime isnt deemed overly offensive, altho, this isnt yet verified, ive just been told this.) and maybe half the city folk wear lavalavas also. faitala is the word for gossip. imma gunna be a yenta when i get back.

drugs, well, i think they relate to drugs similar to how ppl that dont know about them relate. many think that marijuana is on the level of meth, if they are aware of what that is. they are zero tolerance here. they dont have a military, NZ and australia handle that for them.

lots of the buildings were funded by govts like nz, aus, china and japan. ill get into china and samoa later. theyve got a connection that ive yet to fully explore, but it is a definite, huge connection.

american samoa is 8 hour boat or 1 hour flight. samoa and AS are heavily linked thru family ties, no real tension, so far thru my inquiry ive determined this.

time, lying, respect, humour, gender, history, youthfulness, old age are all looked at very differently than what ppl from the states are used to (the states, yea, i say the states now).

more for later. i havent posted anything with a pw just yet. so dont fret. i reckon in story mode, itll be pw'ed.

fa!

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samoa	[Oct. 12th, 2007\|09:03 pm]
talofa! quick summary: im going to make this blog pw protected(ish) so you need to email me or msg me on facebook and ask for the pw if you wanna see future posts. a good hint: it IS the password you think it is... long explanation: pc wants you to be accepted by the place you live. if you post something seemingly innocuous, someone in your place might read it and think of you differently and itll come back to hurt you. even if it doesn't seem offensive, to them, it just might be. people might not understand sarcasm or certain American specific references. ie, your mom jokes might make them think you are a psycho killer even tho you know it is just a joke that shows ppl you are a lamer. who knows. it doesn't matter. ppl associate things differently in different places and lots of misunderstanding can come from 1 thing that is looked at different ways. consequently, thatll hurt you in helping people if they think that you are a psycho killer when you say that yo mama joke. this different association thing is possible everywhere, and samoa is no exception. ill get into the different associations in my blog as time goes on. just accept it as a fact for now. is possible in a country like samoa that my service could suffer from someone finding the blog. samoa has maybe 4 or 5? netcafes, which is excellent. more and more younger people, especially in the city, Apia (pronounced ah-pee-ah) use the net, like the ppl around me in this netcafe are all under 16. technology is hittin samoa (w00t). i will probably be teaching some of this technology in samoa. so some of my students might love to google stuff and end up net stalking and finding my blog which s/he will print out, show my host family and before you know it, i've caused an international crisis. while i might think seinfeld is hilarious (it is hilarious, its a fact), some other country folk might reckon it a terrible show due to the vapid characters who are unwed and promiscuous (Samoa is a rather conservative country, but not in the way one might think an arab muslim country. ill get into that in the blog... its fascinating.) anyway, me pw protecting the blog isn't due to censorship cuz the pc doesnt want me to make fun of it. the pc promotes free speech and all that. the pc also promotes good successful service, and a blog might hurt that if the blog got out and something i said ended up offending ppl in my village. that would be terrible. im avoiding it. if the above isn't clear, soon ill have a cellphone, tomorrow (?) and you can call me and ill give you the dilly-o. anyway. samoa is amazing. get the pw. read about how samoa is amazing. ill be posting once a week i reckon, like in israel. maybe more at first and then less and less. tofa!
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mail	[Oct. 11th, 2007\|09:14 am]
Maxim Lapushin, PCT Peace Corps Private Mail Bag Apia, Samoa (Western/ Independent) South Pacific its expensive. maybe drop off stuff at my house and my parents will send it. quick story: i needed to send my certificate of naturalization to atlanta since i got it back in LA. i didnt have a chance to go post officing and readily assumed one awaited me in LAX. i got there with the certificate and the stamps i bought at the hotel gift store. i got to my terminal and didnt see any place for shipping. i asked some workers at 2 stores what the dilly-o was and they told me that since 9/11 (or is it 11/9 since im all international now?) there are no mailing places in the airport. i was frustrated. not wanting to bring it to samoa and mail it. not wanting to store it somewhere. my plans were ruined. so me and F decide to find someone leaving the terminal to ship something for us. this is harder and shaddier than it seems. 2 guys, wanting to ship something, but refusing to do it themselves. suspicious? so we stand and first i approach an older looking couple "excuse me, sir, sir" he keeps walking and doesnt even look at me. apparently, me, dressed in those great teva sneakers and nice button-down shirt, was too much bum for him. so me and F try to figure out who the perfect victim, err, helper, could be. i realize i can use the jewdar to figure that out. well, F was taken aback at this. i told him whats wrong and he was confused why i could get jews to do stuff for me. i told him cuz they are good listeners and are responsible, duh. later i told him i was a jew. he was offended and thought me anti-semite for a good 20minutes. i made it clear to him he could never talk about jews like i do, since thats anti-semetic. then i gave him the evil eye. then i said i was just kidding, paused a second, and said NOT. just picture it. it was good funny. we determined a younger couple was more likely to help us. we are white, so a white younger couple. not single guys between 30-50. so we sat and evaluated each person. then came great asian man. he had sandals and shorts and a polo. he was 20. he was college kid epitome. i went and asked him. "hey, sorry, this is a really awkward question. my name is max and i needa send this." "okay, sure, will do" "you sure? its no pressure, i mean, if you can't, you can't. i have money, let me pay you. hold on, lemme also give you my phone number." "no, im good, i got it." "i promise its only a peice of paper in the envelope, you can see it when you put it to the light." "yea, its light. i know its paper. i got it." and that was it. i got an american (asian-american.) to send a package for me from the airport. (evil grin/nice smile). i never even told him i was going to samoa, but i think mentioned there were no maildrops in the airport due to 911. maybe that appealed to his patriotic side. something emotional. he was great. who knows, he might even give me a call, dudes got my digits. i felt we had great rapport.
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reasons	[Jul. 23rd, 2007\|10:40 am]
I decided to do peacecorps for a number of reasons, some practical, some not, some good, some evil. I wouldn't say its any one reason, but rather a combination. Its better that way since if one reason I go gets punched where it hurts, well then, I'll have another reason to fall back on. Reason #1: I don't want to go to graduate school right after finishing undergrad. Reason #2: I don't want to get a crappy job or go job hunting for a job I'll only spend a year at since after a year I'd be ready to go to graduate school. Reason #3: I don't know what I want to do in graduate school. Reason #4: I want to get out of Atlanta. Alot. Reason #5: I think peacecorps will open many doors for me in terms of graduate school and job opportunities. Reason #6: I want to get away from consumerism and materialism as much as I can, though this is impossible, going somewhere like Samoa will help. Reason #7: I am insanely interested in living in another culture and experiencing it for a lengthy period of time. Reason #8: I have always wanted to help some people that lacked my opportunities. I've had good schooling, good life, and, perhaps, like doors have been opened for me, I can help open doors for others. Reason #9: Peacecorps is an amazing 27month volunteer opportunity where you do not spend much money of your own and you get so much back. Reason #10: I look forward to meeting people from other places, always have, and this will get it done, right quick. It just makes sense. I want, nay, need to help others, even for a short period of time (Is 2 years short or long? erm.). And, through helping I'll also be getting alot. Whats not to like? These reasons, some overlap, some don't. I quickly scribbled them, some will change, some won't. We'll see. Moreover, simply because the practical reasons outnumber the idea-based does not mean the idea-based are less significant. It is harder to articulate intangibles. Its probably 1/2 altruism and 1/2 selfishness. There you have it.
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pc	[Jul. 19th, 2007\|07:48 pm]
samoa: oct 10, 2007- dec 20, 2009.
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bp	[Jun. 19th, 2007\|03:48 pm]
i was at BP, early in the evening, buying a snack and drink. in front of me, in line, was this smelly, smelly man. he was 5"8, grey dirty, oily hair that looks as if he stole it off some roadkill. he was white and had scraggly facial that would be too extreme to term unkempt. dude was a mess. his jeans were fading and had black splotches interspersed between the blue cloth, making me recall a spotted leopard, except this guy wasn't cat-like in the least. his shirt was dark red, perhaps burgundy. it was a polo shirt, collared and all. he looked unpleasant. the smell coming from him was offensive. after i finished wincing, which i did by scrunching my nose and leaving my mouth slightly open and rubbing my nose, to make it appear as if i were avoiding a sneeze or my nose ached and needed a gentle rub, i began trying to figure out what that stench from him actually was. what i concluded quickly was that it wasn't any one thing. rather, it was a combination of a few things that, when combined, proved potent. perspiration was the first thing i could pick apart. it was as if i were a wine connoisseur trying to coax the various scents from a vintage. but, my subject was smelly oldman. next, i was positive i smelled hints of fish. i couldn't tell which fish since my smell scent isn't as attuned as it should be. but, leave it be, fellar smelled fishy. at that point, he was at the head of the line. dude made it there, all by himself. i was proud. he was buying malt liquor. i haven't any experience with malt liquor, but, it was a colt 45, a 40oz of malt liquor. it was urine yellow, the yellow you get when you haven't urinated in a while, like when you wake up in the morning. he took out abunch of pocket change, slung it on the counter and started counting it out. he finished counting. the lady counting was black but her english wasn't very good. perhaps she was Ethiopian, her skin was kinda light and her facial features were ethiopic. maybe she was Eritrean tho, so i didn't ask her if she was ethiopian, i don't need her giving me the wrong change when it comes my turn. neither did i ask her what country was she from since she doesn't seem american, because she'd think i was flirting with her, and i didn't want to come off like that. not cuz i wouldn't flirt with a black person, i would and have, but just because i didn't want to give her the satisfaction from feeling international. i know that satisfaction and i hoard it. i don't want others feeling it. i didn't ask out of spite, basically. the lady told the smelly-white-oldish guy he was 20cents short. this drink was his pleasure for the day. i knew it was. a 40oz of malt liquor after a day of hassling passerbys. the 40oz was his chief vehicle for relaxation. his inability to purchase the 40oz would ruin his day. he would curse life and feel sorry for himself if he left that BP without that 40. hell, he might even be suicidal. i didn't need his depression on my conscience. i lead a comfortable life, where i get to dissect smells and describe hobos. his life is one of difficulty, drunkenness and many other things liberals reckon they can remedy. i was busily trying to figure out that 3rd smell, it was eluding me since hobo-smells are sneaky. the guy turns to me and asks if i have a quarter, "you got a quarter?" hmm, maybe, gimme a sec. i stick my hand in my pocket, thankfully avoiding the pencil in my pocket that was sticking up, waiting to poke me and get me to bleed. i find the quarter. while i was scouring the pocket, i wasn't thinking if it was right or wrong to give a hobo money to buy booze to get buzzed. i just wanted to help this sorry looking guy. it was a sad situation and i knew i had a quarter somewhere. my desire to aid overshadowed my reason for that moment. my reason would have made me realize that contributing to a person's sorry state, effectively facilitating it, isn't the best idea out there. nonetheless, i gave the ethiopian the quarter. she took it and returned me a knicel. the lady placed the 40oz colt 45 into a paper bag. he took hold of it, turned to me, nodded and off he went. he didn't verbalize a thank you, which kind of annoyed me. i didn't think a nod was enough. but, its all he gave me and i took it, however begrudgingly. previously, before this incident, i never gave money to anybody in atlanta when they begged me for money. i always assumed that they would buy alcohol with it or some drugs and i didnt want to contribute to that at all. i always wanted to buy mcdonalds gift cards and whenever a hobo asks me for money, i'd give him/her the giftcard and my conscience for contributing to the social good would be relieved. i never actually implemented this idea. now, after this incident, i am forced to reevaluate why i avoided giving money to hobos, since, clearly, i have no trouble giving money to someone buying alcohol. perhaps it is due to my ideas of self-sufficiency. this hobo had collected almost enough money to get his drink. he had worked hard begging or whatever it is he did. now, he came to the BP to get his reward. but, he was short of being fully self sufficient. i just gave him a nudge. tho, if i had given him my quarter on the street, that woulda been a nudge also. rather, i think the real deal of it was seeing him actually use the money to get something that i always suspected hobos got. it wasnt pretentious. he was a hobo and he wanted to get plastered. i knew 100% where my money was going. this made me okay with contributing to his sorry state. or, maybe i gave him money cuz he mighta hurt me if i didnt. but really, i dunna why i gave it to him. oh well. i bought a 40 for a hobo, now how many ppl can actually say that?
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ideas	[May. 28th, 2007\|12:48 am]
1: every single time i go to home depot or lowes or walmart or ikea or any store that is huge and sells tons of products, i can never seem to locate any item with ease. i usually don't come with a huge shopping list to these places. more often than not, i need just one item out of their vast inventories. to locate it, i wander around, hoping ill see it. usually i break down at the end of an aisle, quickly recover, and track down a sales person willing to help me find some freaking gosh darn duct tape or shelves or duvets. i've done this so many times it is really frustrating. i haven't the patience to look around and then track a sales person. its a huge waste of my time (i can be blogging instead :-D). idea #1: a little kiosk near the entrance that has every product cataloged. you go to it, its probably a crappy computer of some sort, type in something like "wall paper" and it tells you precisely which aisle to look down. you can find stuff by brand name or product name or anything really. this would save time. barnes and noble has kiosks at a desk that tell you where they have books located so you don't have to wander like a dope or disturb an associate, why can't freaking home depot, the biggest store ever, have a kiosk of this sort? its so obvious. argh. 2: i use mapquest regularly, despite hating its interface. its bloated, but thats another post. it is helpful and good. interestingly, it always posts the estimated amount of time it should take for me to arrive at my destination. do these people at mapquest realize the time they provide is pretty much useless? i never know what to do with it. atlanta has terrible traffic on 285west in the mornings, so if my directions say go 285west, and i needa get their in the morning, the time is 100% percent wrong. the amount of time for a trip is necessarily contingent on the time of day the travel is done. duh. surely they know this, correct? why can't they query the hour at which i'll be departing and better tailor the estimated time and, golly, perchance suggest alternatives if the time is ridiculously long? now, i realize this would require mapquest taking in billions of bytes of traffic data and correllating it with routes and such. but this data exists, right? surely someone out there knows that for me to go from toco hills on a sunday morning to my house takes 20minutes while on a monday morning takes 35minutes? every single day i hear on the radio them telling me traffic information, saying how long a certain route is taking. the data is definitely out there. now stick the data into mapquest and tell me how long it'll take me to get home from sandy springs on a friday afternoon. okay, this would require a huge initiative on the part of mapquest, i understand this. i looked on mapquests website and they fail to explain where they get their estimated time from. i reckon they look at speed limits and figure out how long a mile takes and then spew that time out. but they don't tell you that, im just assuming this. they should totally stop this practice or be more clear with it, since surely the estimated time right now has never helped me. cmon now. 3: okay, this idea is zany, but would be awesome. there is a possibility that its already been done, but i've failed at locating it. i would love to buy or make a book of texture. this book would be filled with hundreds of different textures. each page would be a different texture and imprinted on the bottom corner would be the texture. there would be a sandpaper page. a hard plastic page. a silly putty page (level of difficulty 1000). a smooth wood page. a marble page (level of difficulty 1002). naturally, i bet books already exists with different fabrics. but this book would also have those also. so, a page made from cotton, one from nylon, one from silk yada yada yada, you get the point. one from iron, one from bronze. basically, it would be a texture bible, a compilation of sheets of tons of different materials. perhaps it would come in different volumes, organized logically, like: industrial materials, fabrics, or miscellaneous. i bet the miscellaneous would be the most popular due to its nutty nature. this book would take alot of work to make. it would be awesome. why would anyone want it? well, artists would want it in order to experiment with different textures. the misc volume would make an interesting coffee table book most likely. kids would dig the kids volume, it would have lots of soft and funky textures, like playdoh and cashmere and bubblegum(chewed and unchewed) and dried apples. the uses would create themselves once the book or books were released. it'd be an interesting project, you know, to compile a compendium of all the different stuff out there that feels a certain way. a book with 100 different types of "smooth" or "rough" would be nifty. okay, thats the idea people, get to work.
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idea	[May. 8th, 2007\|02:01 pm]
www.courttv.com looks wrong, it should share the t, it should be www.courtv.com. courttv.com should forward to courtv.com. this wouldn't matter, this matter of the T, but courtv is also a tv channel, and i just think sharing a common letter to both court and tv would make a good synergy. people wouldn't be able to think court...without adding a v, thereby making courtv. right now, if you go to www.courtv.com, it does not go anywhere, but google suggests you are looking for www.courttv.com. if i were enterprising, i would just go ahead and register courtv.com. i can imagine people assumning they share the t and trying to go there now. other examples of words that share letters, kaduregel, in hebrew. uhm, there are more, but regardless, i don't need more examples to emulate. the idea is right, the idea is there, now courtv needs to jump into it and get it good. another idea: i would pay 20dollars to see a one hour episode of seinfeld or arrested development or how i met your mother AS A DRAMA. cmon, an episode of seinfeld redone as a drama would be really strange. Next Week of Seinfeld: Elaine and Puddy on the rocks, Kramer tries to change the world, and George starts a new job at Krueger. Tune In! or, how about a spinoff from a comedy that is a drama. that would be less weird. The Kramer Chronicles, it'll detail how Kramer made his money and how he succeeded with women. i'd watch it. i love serious drama ala ER and Heroes. these spinoff's and comedies redone as drama could potentially be seen as parodies, i'll concede that point. but, this will go away after a wee bit and people will realize the shows of merit within themselves. a short film of it posted on youtube maybe would be a great way to start the trend. idea3 you know how when you walk, you walk a certain pace? but, when you walk and someone behind lays their hand on your back, you end up walking alot quicker, with more ease and it feels like you are walking with a jetpack? what if you could hire someone to lay their hand on your back as you walked or jogged? you would still get plenty of exersice since your limbs would have to move the same amount, yaknow? but you could joke and talk with this person and they could help you run. this would be especially useful to people wanting to lose weight or professional runners, like all kenyans are. okay.
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dilemma	[May. 1st, 2007\|09:56 pm]
i've got a dilemma. my last final is on thursday. i am going to have a good deal of free time for the next month. i won't be at GSU for most of my time. i will have a job, but that'll occupy a day a week, maybe a smidgen more. i'll have very little to fill my days. i've already started making a list of books, movies, tv shows and other media things i need to experience. i am going to start running again, tho i'm not sure how i'll do this running. it'll be with 2 legs, but i don't know where i'll do it and such. im thinking of doing biking instead of the running. physical activity is a definite. i also want to blog ideas. i was inspired by a friend's blog to blog ideas. i am going to ideablog during this time, no more personal narrative during my break. i also plan to learn to whistle with my fingers, you know, they do it real loud like that, i wanna learn. im excited to have this free time, but it worries me. i think i will waste it away. it will end and i won't be the better for it. the majority of the time, i can see myself sitting around. reading and viewing has limits and im going to get to those limits. i want more than those things. i don't want to waste my time yet i feel i will. its a not-good-almost-terrible feeling. wasting time, its abhorent yet i do it everyday. i try not to think about it. dilemma #1: free time, but no ideas on howto occupy said freetime, worried i might waste it. my laptop has been funky fishy odd. the ethernet port on it is mad-jack raw and doesn't make the cricket click it was designed to make when an ethernet cable is inserted. the computer does not follow the battery metre and shuts off at will seemingly when its on battery. the screen flashes or breaks a queer thing now and then. this scares me, i love my screen, i screened many screens to select the screen i have. the lappy left hand side where my wrist wrests gets warm, too warm. i dont think anything is wrong, but im complaining about it. three months back, i resolved i would send the lappy off and away in may, for its vacation. hp would recieve it and do the needed fixes and send me a good fresh lappy, problem free. i have a warranty and i wanna call it in. its my lappy and i want my problems fixed if i wanna. and i wanna. i will need this lappy in the summer because i am taking 2 classes and well, i'll need it more as opposed to want it more. also, i like gettin things done the sooner and not the later. dilemma #2: unsatisfying lappy, but freetime is coming up. send it off? i think if i were to send it off and away during my freetime, i'd be making some decisions for myself. i would severely be limiting my exposure to the media i planned to consume over the month. i would be forced to read and watch movies more. i would watch less tv shows, listen to less music and read less stuff online. i don't think this would be a sacrifice. it will be an experience. i'll still have access to a computer, but lack of lappy is limiting. ill be rewarded in the end with working laptop and probably increased appreciation for that laptop. all this thought about lappy is annoying. last year i had no lappy and was happy and well-adjusted. i think often of the benefits of technology, but we get tied to that. reliant. like a cell phone, jeez, i cant go anywhere without it. if i do, its like im gone from the world. i always enjoyed the idea of something simpler. i dunna if i would actually enjoy that somethin simpler. who knows. it sure does sound redhot appealing.
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karma	[Apr. 23rd, 2007\|12:37 am]
karma struck. two weeks back i got a speeding ticket. i always prided myself on never recieving any sort of ticket. i never got one for parking, failing-to-yield or even a free ticket to a baseball game. no tickets for me, never, never ever. it was late, around 2am and i was driving the new honda civic and it was 45mph and i was going 67mph. excuse #1: it was late, nobody was on the road. excuse #2: the car is new and going fast in it doesn't feel so fast, it just happened. excuse #3: i was making sure to keep an eye on speed but i looked away and it just happened, you caught me at a bad moment. i didn't give the she-cop any excuses, i was speeding, that was clear. she gave me a ticket and sent me on my way. presumably the ticket is around 200dollars, but the county has yet to post the fee on their website yet. this was annoying, getting a ticket. it was my first. i had avoided it for my entire, 5 year driving career. i always reckoned myself to be an anomaly. i had lots of pride and joy in my never having got a ticket. it was my claim to fame, that, and drinking 3/4gallon of milk in highschool. it did make me sulk a little, but i understood its just a ticket and i shouldn't let it ruin my overall good humour. so, i didn't let it. the day after the ticket, i got two phones from different people to fix their computers. i went and fixed and got good money. the next day i got another phone call. the day after that another phone call. 4 phone calls in a week to fix computers. this was certainly something. i had returned to atlanta in january but had not recieved any calls to fix any computers since leaving back in august. granted, i didn't tell any of my previous customers i had returned. this was idiocy, i realize. nonetheless, they overlooked it and they called me the few days following my dreadful ticket. they paid me good money. the result? i ended up netting enough money to make that lil ticket of mine into nothing. the money i made would easily pay off the ticket and give me some change to buy a snickers with. somehow some force worked stuff out. the ticketer would get paid, i wouldn't lose money and computers would be fixed. its the perfect arrangment. i could say that this wasn't karma or some weird order. maybe it was coincidence. but i doubt it. coincidence never cared about me before, i doubt its gunna start now.
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the seeds	[Mar. 21st, 2007\|08:13 pm]
when i was in israel, i ate these sunflower seeds that, to most americans, are considered huge, freakishly huge. one time i was standing at emek, waiting for the beloved 4 bus. i was going thru the usual motions of taking the seeds, coaxing the seeds out with the tongue, and throwing the shell in front of me. i had done this tons of times. it was dark outside. this time i did the usual motions and, instead of the shell falling on the ground before me, it hit this elderly woman. she was passing by, i was gawking at teenage seminary girls across the street and BLAM, it hit the lady on her face. i quickly realized what i had done. i had flung a slobered on, chewed over, disgusting peice of food refuse. she turned to me, she was sickened and outraged. she yelled something at me. i can't recall the words. it was harsh, im sure. maybe she called me a ben zona or told me to leich lazazel. regardless, they were bad words. i looked down, said i was sorry, i didn't mean to. she walked away. i was left to ruminate over the incident. i got a bunch of sunflower seeds and began to eat them away. i like to eat them while thinking or not thinking. i started imagining myself accidently flicking the shell into her eye. she would go blind. i would be to blame. it would ruin my life, i'd be devasted with guilt. lately, i have been sitting outside of a building at the university between classes. i have a special place where i always sit. i like to sit there. i recently bought the exact same seeds i used to eat in israel. same brand. they are imported to the israeli store here. i eat tons of seeds. what happens is, i go through these "tons of seeds" and the shells end up before me. so i sit and eat. the shells start amassing after 5 minutes. its a concrete area. people walk in front of me. if someone wanted to stand and talk with me, they'd have to either stand an awkward 3 feet away, or would have to stand on the actual shells. i make a bad version of a composte heap on the bland, lifeless concrete. its a service. every day, around 3:30PM, there is an elderly man. he is around 5"7 when i see him. he is in a constant "forward-leaning" position, so i bet if he stood up straight, he would for sure be 2 inches taller. he sports a white beard. usually he wears a green shirt and black slacks. he always carries with him these trash collecting tools for the purpose of concrete sweepage. he goes around the large square, amassing a large collection of trash inside his trash tray with his trash broom. it is 100% not an uplifting feeling watching him do his duties. so, i have sat outside, chewin the seed, during this elderly man's work time. i see him come out of the building all equipped. he starts sweeping. i do the obvious thing and close my bag of seeds, and place it into my backpack. he sweeps up cigarette butts and little flyers and random crap. he finally gets to my area. i make sure to look away. i look up, i look to the side. he is before me, doing some sweeping. i turn my head to look at the other side and i see him kinda concentrating on my chest. he wants my chest to burst into flames. i keep trying to not look at him. it is obvious the pile is my doing, i didn't conceal my goods with any sort of speed when he emerged. he leaves without saying a word. there still remains about half of my pile. he fails at the task that i created for him. i agonize over how much time i need to wait til i can take out my seeds again. i decide to wait til he cannot easily see me. i end up waiting an endless 8minutes. then i whip the pack out once more. i need the seed. besides, my pile needs work. this has happened twice, so far.
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me and the boys	[Mar. 12th, 2007\|12:00 pm]
when i was in israel the second time, i bought a bottle of alcohol to drink with friends. i made sure to get some cups from the shop, since its uncouth to drink from the bottle, you can't have a decent l'chaim. as i was walking out of the shop, 5 14 year old israeli punks accosted me. demanded alcohol. took my cups and demanded a pour. i pushed them away and walked away cupless and kind of annoyed at their chutzpah. when i was in israel the third time, i was walking with F thru east jerusalem on a shabbat afternoon. it was a shortcut we were taking. during daylight and on main streets, it feel safe there. me and F passed 7 10 year olds. they yelled stuff in arabic. they clearly sucked at making fun of people since they thought i would somehow get offended when i couldn't understand their talk. while they were yelling, they started throwing tiny stones at me and F. naturally, they sucked at this stoning. they don't have baseball or football to train their arms. they failed to land one hit. we got away from them. we walked away unscathed and i felt kinda happy i survived the incident and now had a good story. when i was in new york last week, i was walking in washington heights, a place where large amounts of immigrants and children of immigrants live. they all speak spanish. it was around noon and i was doing some shopping. on my way back from my buying-fest, about 4 dominican kids surrounded me and placed a really yucky lude picture of something before me. they wanted to know if i liked it. i didn't answer. if i said no, i didn't like, they'd call me gay without following that up with "not theres anything wrong with that." if i said yes, they would high-5 me and their actions would be validated. i hate validating parking, so i wasn't ready to validate any kids. i just walked away, saying nothing. i didn't even crack a smile. i just ignored and walked away from the boys. i was kind of disquieted by the whole incident. israeli, palestinian and dominican kids have something funky going on. i can't figure out why they are so hostile toward me. i guess next time i should just offer them some candy to gain their favor. if they misinterprate that as some unneat old guy with yucky intentions, i guess they'll stop bothering me. but then, of course, i'd be less cool with them. theres no good way to deal with them. oh well.
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girls and mine vice	[Feb. 26th, 2007\|12:41 am]
whenever mom hears a girls name mentioned by me or by someone around me when they are talking to me, she turns into the great inquisitor (Torquemada came to mind, rather inappropriatly). first, she asks who this girl is and how long i've known her. she wants to know if she is pretty and how old she is. her questions usually stop after the first few, because she wants to give me some time to answer. i do not answer any of her questions. usually, i just smile and repeat the refrain of "there is no girl, i don't know what you are talking about." this, clearly, is a lie. yet, it has worked, more or less, in stopping her inquiry. i can't stand her inquiry about me and girls. i don't want her to know i even associate with girls. i do have my reasons for not wanting my mother or my father, for that matter, to know about me and girls. i do not want them to meet these girls because maybe they would embaress me. or, maybe, i don't want them giving me advice about girls so i try to make myself seem girless. i do abhor parental meddling is such matters. but, attaching a logical reason for keeping girls and parents seperate is a silly excersice. in reality, my wanting to keep these two apart is something deeply within me, that i cant articulate very well. the closest thing i can think of is the seperate worlds theory presented to me by an episode of seinfeld (Episode #118 - The Pool Guy). parents and girls are two different worlds. if they were to come together, it would not be pleasant for me, the collision would invariably be traumatic. i guess this analogy gets to my real reason. these two groups know two different maxes, that, if they knew about the other, would feel unhappy. this is true in two ways. first, the parents would feel unhappy since they would see that i possibly treat the girl better than them. i answer all her calls and talk with her with my full attention (unless i am playing tetris). i might do her dishes or clean some lettuce. regardless, they would feel sad that i'd chosen to treat a gal better than them. and, secondly, the girl would be told by my parents how well she is treated and how not the best they are treated. this would cause the girl to nag nag nag and tell me to be more respectful. my parents would yell at me for not being with them as i am with her. she would yell at me for not being like i am with her with my parents. the real victim would be me, selfish me. i recognize this and do my best to prevent it. i shut down quick any mentioning of a girl with me. i won't let any such thing surface. the second a girls name is mentioned i go into action. "no, thats actually a guy mom, not a girl." "that girl does not live here." etc.. and of course the classic 1984 response "there never is or was a girl" (1984 by orwell). this leads me to the point. a package from F arrived today from israel. it was big and beautiful and made me happy. my mother saw it on the kitchen counter and yelled over to me. "maxim, who is this F?" i replied "i don't know, when i see the package i will tell you." "is this a girl you know, she is sending you a package, you must know her well." "who knows, i don't know." she responded to that saying "i would love to see what she sent you so i can see how she feels about you." i replied, "okay, we'll see." this got worse tho. prepare yourself. an hour or so later, i was reading an article in a magazine and twirling my hair. its a motion you've seen me do a many times. i try to stop it but i do it when thinking or not thinking. who knows. i do it. my mother abhors this. she yells at me incessantly to stop it. she says we can't afford to send me to counseling to get it fixed. i always stop for a second or ignore her. its tough doing this all the time. it would probably be easier to stop the hair twirling, but, i have principle, character, committment. so, this instance, my mother shouts over in a gentle scream "you better stop that or i am going to tell F!" i respond "go, tell her." my mom then responds saying "if F finds out you are crazy because you pull out your hair, you will lose her. don't make me tell her." i reply "there is no F." she replies "there is. F sent you a big beautiful package." i reply, "i know, she is lovely." she replies "aha! there is a F." i reply, "i cant remember." an hour after this i once again start the hair twirling. this time she shouts "stop twirling the hair or i am going to embaress you to F. i will tell her about it and she will leave you. nobody wants to know crazy people." this was a classic mom tactic. throughout my life she has tried to convince me to do stuff by blackmailing me. she threatens to tell people i know about my bad habits in an effort to stop those habits. i remember once, a month ago, she told me "if you don't clean your room, i am going to tell I (I is a friend of mine here)!!" that was her only theat. she would tell a girl, as if this would make me tidy my room. luckily, i stood strong and didnt clean the room. nor did i stop my hair twirling this time. ***if you do pull out your hair, there is help there for you out: its called Trichotillomania and http://www.trich.org/index.asp says it can help.
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erm	[Feb. 18th, 2007\|03:13 pm]
turned 21. i am tired of the list format. i've used it a few too many times. its a great transmitter of raw info. but its lacking. it fails to be part of the narrative structure which means it cannot always exhibit the greatness of prose. but, at the same time, its concise, gets the job done. thats really the issue: priority. where are my priorities in giving over this information. is clearness and brevity the things i value or do i prefer a more personal, natural approach? both the list and the narrative have their drawbacks and advantages. i recognize this. usually, it is easy to figure out what you want to use when. right now, i feel i have exhausted the list. so, reject the list, pick the prose. but, i also feel the list could be excellent in giving forth what i am planning to forth give. but, i really like the cushion and detail that prose provides. an inability to choose has manifest (i hate using this word as a verb, i find it kinda pretentious. i also find the word pretentious to be pretty pompous. i think the word pompous is too hoity toity.) itself within me. i am going to prose it and spurn indecisivness. my birthday gathering was pretty good, not the best. we bought every brand that there is of hard cider. it was maybe six brands? i tried them all to some degree and some came out the losers. the strongbow and woodpecker and this other brand that i can't recall its name but had before were the best. the k and the vermont were lacking in goodness and flavor. they won't be bought again unless out of sheer neccesity. my desire in the night was to show others the virtue of the hard cider since it was basically the sole drink provided. i think i succeeded in this regard. i doubt i made any real converts. but, i did open up hard cider as a possible drink to drink. no longer are people limited to mike's hard drinks and beer. hard cider has found a place, due to me, in people's wants. the more people that are hip with the cider, the more chance i have of getting cider and the less chance i have of getting ostracized. this was a success. the drunkedness was lacking. this is because i don't feel right or comfortable or whatever it is, in becoming drunk in several circumstances. i don't ever want to be the only guy drunk at a party. this is completely understandble, im sure. i knew people would be coming at all times of the evening and no one person would really be getting drunk with me except F. so, i would not be getting drunk alone. its true. there is where reason two comes in. i didnt feel comfortable in the crowd i was in to get drunk. i knew the people, it was my birthday, my friends. but i never became drunk around them before or them around me. i didnt feel at home. its difficult to explain. i got drunk at the apartment in israel a couple of times. the circumstances were totally different then tho. maybe ill get to the point where i will find this fine to do will arrive while i am in america. who knows. it made me miss israel, thats for certain. i did end up talking with an Ismali shiite from mumbai that converted to baptist. he tried telling me how his sect was most logical and best. he expressed confusion over how sunnis do not see ali and his family discussed in the koran. he thinks sunnis are intolerant. i told him that isamli is to islam like scientology is to christianity. he replied with a scary face. i said i was joking. but i wasnt. he forgave me and told me i was really mistaken. there were people that would have made my party absoutely the best day ever. but, they were not in atlanta. they were in maryland, new york, and israel. sure, the people there were excellent. but i don't know. the friends i made in israel, nothing can compare. not much to put in words for this topic, its just how it is. it sucks. im used to it more than others. but the feeling of unfulfillment never really disappears. it was gone while i was in israel tho. the activites at the party were activites. sure, talking abounded. but people played xbox or table tennis or beer pong. i dunna. are these neccessary features of a good time? i dont really think so. i dunna. talking. i love to socialize and discuss. some bible denial plus some discussion of weird muslims really makes me happy. its what i like. but, there were no real discussions. the crowd was in different groups doing different things. its a matter of people's interests. i know. mine fail to align with theirs. its getting frustrating. i smoked a cigar for the first time. this was fun, doing something for the first time on your birthday really marks it. i don't plan on buying another one or smoking one again. but it was interesting. it let me say all my cuban/dominican seinfeld jokes. it let me have fun holding the cigar in different ways. i puffed on it several ways. it was the best time of the night, especially since i was doing it outside, with few people. it reminded me of hookah. 3/3 stars for this. overall, im glad it happened and im glad its over. i would not do it differently if i was given the choice. i mighta had a better time had i kept my expectations lower. its funny, you hope for the best, you have high hopes sometimes and sometimes they are pushed down. its something innate. you wanna hope good things and telling yourself to stop that seems counter to your, or at least my, nature. there is nothing i could have changed to make it better. maybe less people? i always preferred a smaller group. but thats a maybe. i couldn't change the people, i know that. i couldnt change the setting. it was the best it could be. i am happy for that. it didnt exceed my expectations, i should resign myself to that. regardless of my urge to temper my high hopes, i do indeed have high hopes for this year. i want to finish the academics i have realized i despise for a number of reasons. i want to end up in a country other than america. i want to stop pulling out my hair. next year, hopefully F will hold be accountable and see if ive realized these goals. if not, i give F permission to hit me. i really hate being hit, so this is noteworthy. bye
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bigdeal	[Feb. 7th, 2007\|07:38 pm]
last night i couldnt stop smiling for a good 20minutes. lets try to stick some adjectives to this smile. it was a smile of: jolly and zany. 20minutes before this smile i clicked submit on the application for the peace corp. i had been sporadically filling it out for the last couple of weeks. whenever i found myself in front of the tv too long, in an effort to feel productive, i answered a few of the questions. and then it all came together last night. i finally finished it. i finished the application so i could begin the real process. it was more a start and not an end. last time i finished such an application, i ended up in israel. we all know how that ended. the end of this thing promises to be really different. when i finished that one i had expectations and the israel experience was different, different better, not worse. im pretty sure this will happen with this thing also. i havent really talked to people about their experiences. im convinced i cant trust them to tell me how mine will be. its a haughty attitude that i am convinced is completey valid and will be the reason for mine end. after the 20minute smile slowly became a bland expression of equilibrium, i saw some people and watched family guy. an excellent end to an excellent night. the feeling of starting something that youve been wanting to do for a while is good. no longer am i all talk and jibberjabber. following thru with claims is fulfilling. its something i set for myself. i, over a long period of time, have declared my ambitions for this. ive told others and they have thought good for him. perhaps some even doubted. none could actually know if i meant it. i know that if someone told me 2 years before they could even apply to the peace corps that they wanted to do it i would write them off as "one of those people that makes crazy statements but never does a thing." but i made the statement and am actively making it happen. its like the time i really wanted to whistle and made it happen or when i decided to run a few miles a day and did that. but, ive also tried and failed. i keep trying to stop my hair twirling and cant succeed. i know this isnt one of those things. its different. its directly linked to my future, so its got great importance, unlike my hairline. pathetic fallacy: this morning i woke up and it was bright with sunrays and above 60degrees outside. i wore a tshirt and light jacket outside. it wasnt chilly cold like yesterday or yucky hot like summer. it was perfect weather for the day after my application submission. yippee. queue the trumpets of big deals.
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Paresthesia	[Feb. 4th, 2007\|02:52 pm]
i was sitting in venture cinema, the dollar movie theatre, watching The Fountain. for the last hour of the movie, my knees were pushed to my chest with my feet on the seat and my legs were snuggly under my sweatshirt with my arms hugging my legs around the shins. the movie ended and i got up. more like stumbled up. my legs from my thighs to my ankles were asleep. i could barely will myself to move them. someone looked at me as if i were some invalid. i told my brother to walk ahead since my legs were asleep and i needed some time to fix them. i jiggled them from side to side like a guy trying to do a jig. i walked some more and with the assistance of the walls made it out of the theatre. oy, then pins and needles hit and my face changed forms. its a strange pain, those pins and needles. i continued to move slowly. sometimes i think that moving around alot with quickness will make the sensation disappear. perhaps, but i was not in the masochisitc mood that would naturally be a pre-requistite to try that sort of thing out. after a few minutes, it too disappeared. earlier that day, i fell asleep on the couch and woke up. my left hand failed to realize i was awake. i made a fist,extended my fingers, and made a fist and extened my fingers over and over making sure to gesticulate my arm all at the same time. the thinking was that the hand needed some blood and a good idea would be to move it all about. pins and needles attacked the hand but i continued the motions. away it went. the day before, i was sitting on the ground and my right buttox fell asleep. i cant really describe this feeling, but my thought was one of disbelief. it had never happened to me in that place before and i thought it was not a positive sign. i had trouble getting up. i woulda hit my right buttox but didnt wanna see crude. it too went away. i am convinced that my body parts have been falling asleep more and more lately. im not sure what to make of this. i wonder if its something positive.
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the hand.	[Jan. 26th, 2007\|02:18 pm]
talk to the hand. no, don't even think about it, talk to the hand. amidst the pronouncement of these words, you raise your hand, palm out facing the other persons face. the concept is simple. the action is quick and to the point. it means, talk no more of this, it is offensive unto me. me and f were sitting with university friends and this somehow came up. possibly i thought someone said this and i was taken aback. regardless how the issue was raised, the subject became "talk to the hand." we all agreed the phrase/action is only cool if you are 5 or more years ago. last time anybody heard it was in middle school and even then, it was in an effort to be funny or hip. i want to say i used this also. i don't really remember. concensus: the act was no longer relevant and if done would be percieved as completely ridiculous, uncool. worse yet, i concluded for myself that if someone did it with full earnest, i would think less of them. they would lose life points and possibly some health. "the hand" is too old to be "with it" but not old enough to be retro chic and, thus, revered. it finds itself in the same group as compuserv, corduroy pants, and saved by the bell, the college years.^1 this was all in the context of white people, college age. me, f, and uni friends. we thought the act too absurd to be practiced. case closed. groupthink concluded. THEN, the next night i was with other people. lets call them the "others." there was a guy that said something unpleasant to this girl. the girl was so outraged. she would not hear it. BAM! she whipped out the hand. with the twist of the wrist and the finess of the fingers, her palm proceeded to face the poor man, her fingers were extended upward and her eyes death stared. she gave him the hand! however, it was not like me and uni friends imagined it the night before. this "other" gave the hand but made no demand of the guy to "talk to" it. the guy understood the hand. he stopped talking and regretted talking. the girl was with full earnest in her act. i was taken aback. it was still relevant! it was not absurd like i had thought. later that night someone said something that i found no good. i gave him the hand. i did not demand he talk to it. the guy laughed and could not believe what i was doing. someone made a comment concerning how what i was doing was queer. i was completely embarrased. they told me i cannot do that. its ungood and thusly i had lost points and health because of it. all these "others" were black while the uni friends of before were all white. so, what had happened? some act that used to be equal opportunity was now only allowed by some people. it had become less diverse and open! this isn't true. sorry. white people could never do the hand. it was actually always black/latino people. there was a time when it was popular, but it had passed. it became popular due to the whites wanting to imitate black/latino coolity/coolness but it never lasted. also, even if it is not a race thing, it is surely a woman thang. a guy doing the hand? gay. a girl doing the hand? possibly not stylish but it would not make one question her sexual preference. see the good thinking diversity provokes? ^1coming up with these examples was really hard. any other ideas?
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Connected, a story.	[Jan. 21st, 2007\|10:03 pm]
Theme of the Week: Reconnection. On my return to Atlanta, I was, as i expected, disconnected. I had no phone. I had no phone number. I had no phone numbers of the friends i have in atlanta. my remote control to my television did not work. my router had no proper power adapter. I had no internet access in my room. yes, technology wise i was completely not connected. and then, well. well. i ordered a phone and recieved a phone and have been slowly assembling the numbers of my friends. i spent half an hour concentrating on the remote and therefore succeeded in making the remote to the tv work^1. my brother bought me a power adapter for the wireless router i purchased in israel^2. only today did all my technology work. it took a week and a few days. tis it. tis all. and now i feel completely comfortable with my electronic connections. hmph. that was easy. the week ended in success. BUT, what about the connections that are not repairable through a purchase or through some concentration? the ones with people. i was gone for about five months. i missed events. i failed to participate and create memories with the people i spend time with. i did not feel bad about being gone. since my return, i've not once wished i never left or could return have returned for some reason. i've come to a bitter conclusion. the time i was gone from atlanta, i did not miss anything. nothing happened when i was gone that i wish i had participated in. nothing even close to comparable to what occured to me in israel happened without me. i had to repair absolutely no connections. not because they were never broken. nay. because i don't think i ever had them with the place or the people^3. since going to gsu, i have few if any memories. as a person that enjoys going around and "making memories"^4 i have terribly little to show. i did more in 5 months in israel than i did in 2 years in atlanta. pfft. this is abhorent. therefore, this blog can't, simply won't, be a replica of the blog i had while in israel. the unexciting was exciting there. here, its just not tickling enough. no unique memory occurs here for me to record. in an effort to prove myself wrong, however, i will try to find the memory that eluded me before i was in israel. thanks for reading. ^1 this concentration was akin to uri geller or the shiite esoteric mind transmission. however, it was not identical. uri and the mind transmission are sacred and deserve reverance. what i did, well, it was for the petty. therefore, i was forced to employ typical witchcraft, the oz variety. ^2the power adapter for american to israel: 3 Shekel the power adapter for israel to america: 8 Dollar ^3 i blame many things for this. mainly myself. ^4"making memories" isn't trademarked yet, but watch yourself, soon it shallbe. my brother's name is greg. i love him. we do not talk much. a post one day might follow.
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