Apr 29 2002

Quite Probably one of the Best Songs

Fly Me to the Moon
Sung by: Ol’ Blue Eyes
Arranger: Quincy Jones
Written by: Bart Howard

Orchestra: Count Basie (William)

Lyrics:

Fly me to the moon
Let me play among the stars
Let me see what spring is like
On a-Jupiter and Mars
In other words, hold my hand
In other words, baby, kiss me

Fill my heart with song
And let me sing for ever more
You are all I long for
All I worship and adore
In other words, please be true
In other words, I love you

Fill my heart with song
Let me sing for ever more
You are all I long for
All I worship and adore
In other words, please be true
In other words, in other words
I love you

Apr 29 2002

What Would Life Be without Angst? Probably Boring as all Hell.

I just got off the phone with my youngest sister, who’s living in Texas at an AFB with her husband and three kids. I haven’t really been caught up on the whole drama, so to speak, but I do know that she and my mother have been on the phone almost every night, according to what my grandmother has told me. I’m not being completely insensitive to my sister’s life, but fact is that she tends to not make the most wisest decisions, especially when she’s in a highly agitated emotional state. She called up at around a quarter to nine this morning, in tears and sounding rather depressed. I was actually on my way to the shower, and figured that if she was feeling that glum, I’d have to skip classes this morning entirely. When family’s in trouble, you always drop what you’re doing to lend a hand. That’s the way my family works (of course, not to slight my own sense of duty, but with the way I was feeling, I really didn’t feel like school anyway, so maybe it was just fate or I’m just clinging to any good reason to cut class =P).

She described what was going on, they had a big fight. But this wasn’t the first, and she said that every time they had a big fight, he would leave and go play pool for a while and then come home in the early morning hours. This time, though, she decided she would be the one to leave, so she walked to the mall to cool down. Now, speaking as a former married person, the one thing I’ve learned about the temper of the female is that when they take the time to separate themselves from you for a while, the best thing to do is to use that time to calm down, let them calm down, and then when they come back, have the rational talk. At the point at which tempers are running high, that’s just when the worst decisions are made. And if being with Stephanie taught me anything, it was that when she wanted alone time, you’d best respect it or else a worse fate is in store for you. It’s a lesson that needs learning only once.

Suffice to say, all of this preamble is for the simple fact that he followed her to the mall, with three kids in tow. And she was taken aback, of course, because she respected his alone time, and he decided that he didn’t want the conversation to be over yet. So she decided this morning to divorce him. Her marriage is over (for the moment). Being a rational guy, I asked her pretty point blank, “What are your options right now?” She said she didn’t know, but that she just couldn’t stay there. She wants to move back here with my grandmother and my mother (and me, by the way, since I’m living in what used to be her old room here at the house). I just groaned, thinking about the major-major inconvenience that would come with that. It’s not so much about my inconvenience, but my grandmother’s. She’s old, she’s crotchety (as evidenced by a previous post), and eventually she’s going to rip my sister a new one. Last time she stayed here, she was very close to being kicked out had it no been for her husband showing up with a U-Haul to whisk her away to his new post at Shepard. I think my only saving grace here so far has been the fact that I pay my grandmother rent to offset the costs of the utilities I use and some extra income for her to use as she sees fit. This way, I’m not feeling like I’m taking advantage of her hospitality and such, it’s a sign of respect.

I made her laugh. She put her kids on and I visited with them for a bit, and talked with her some more about what her future holds for her. And then, in the middle of all that, she decided to attack my choices in significant others. She brought up Stephanie, and Marla… she said she didn’t care for either very much, and that I seem to have this attraction to just the worst types of people on the planet. I’m sitting there on the phone, thinking to myself that people in glass houses shouldn’t take to tossing stones. But, then wasn’t the time to bring up her past, she was in need. I still felt put off by that, though. I hate it when people bring up my past and throw it in my face as a gesture of example… it’s damned annoying. I had to bite my tongue from ripping her head off when she started to badmouth Stephanie. Nothing pisses me off more than someone criticizing her in front of me, even if she is a member of family, my sister crossed the line. The people I choose to love are far and few between, and those I make the choice to spend the rest of my life with… my family had better respect that and understand that even now, I still love her. And despite the hurt and the loss of not having her as my wife, that doesn’t go away. Marla stepped on that line once, and I told her to not speak ill of Steph in front of me ever. Speaking ill of Stephanie, in a way, is basically judging my choice. It’s my choice to make, not yours. I’ll thank you to shut the fuck up and accept it, or else you can just not participate in my life. Unless your shit don’t smell and you can walk on water, just shut the fuck up.

But I bit my tongue. I’m venting here, instead.

I have to tell my mom about all of this when she gets home. After that, I’m pretty sure she’s going to ask my grandmother to consider letting her come back to stay with us here. She hasn’t any money and anywhere else to go, really. In the words of the great Koishikawa Miki, “Doshio?” (What do I do?)

Apr 29 2002

Mmph.

I know that my last entry had this song, but to be honest, this song rules me. Great singer and tune to listen to, waking up. Which, ugh, I’m just not quite ready for, but I have classes and all… and I slept through my 7am already. Oh well, it’s not like the professor takes attendance in that class, anyway.

My history midterm is next week! Woo! My second favorite class, plus the professor is just really cool. Very open to student opinion and she actually understand that her opinion isn’t fact, which is something other professors lack. I remember my professor from West Valley, who was convinced Nixon was a hero, and not a felon. I did not pass that class, it was just too painful to listen to this guy prattle on during the contemporary part of the class.

Through bleary-eyes, I’ve read my morning Megatokyo, Sinfest and Angst Technology. I’m down to just reading three comics on a weekly basis. I think I’ve even let UserFriendly go a month or two without reading it. UF just doesn’t hold my fascination as much anymore, but I’m really really really curious to see how the story unfolds over at MT. Piro, if you ever read this, all I can say is that you are like the worst procrastinator ever and take a page from Bill Amend and do your comics weeks in advance, so you’re not rushed to make a 24 hour deadline. Professionals would die horrible horrible deaths if they had 24-hour deadlines. And I thought I was a patient person. Oh, well…

I caught up on my friends’ journals, made a couple of notes. Once I get done with my bottle of water and am feeling just a little more “with it,” I shall endeavor to hop in the shower and get ready for my history class.

Blergh…

Apr 29 2002

Thoughts Post-Move

Hmm.

The move is finally over. This morning at 0800 PDT, the new Mountain View facility will open its doors to the rest of the employees of the company. Then the chaos begins. Even though the IT department may feel that the building is good to go, we’re actually going to see how good we are by the number of calls and errors reported in that first day. So far, we’ve not had any actual endusers use the systems, yet. I’m so fucking glad I’m not working at all today. Though, I do feel for my coworkers, for sure. I just think it’s good I’m not there.

I think I’ve settled into my cube nicely. I’m missing desk space due to having two monitors on my desk, though. There was barely enough room for my damn desk organizer, a stapler, and a tape dispenser. I had to put my stapler and tape dispenser in my desk drawer and left the pens and organizer on top. Of course, already I know the other guys are making use of those pens. I’ll be lucky to have any when I get back on Friday night.

I hope I’ll settle back into a normal work week soon. This last week was brutal.

Apr 28 2002

Thoughts from my Grandmother: Burn this Flag, Sonny!

For the first time in a long time, I was able to sit down with my grandmother and mother to dinner over at a restaurant that I love to go eat at: Alicia’s in San Jose, by Route 85. It’s a simple family run Mexican restaurant. Food is good enough to make my grandmother prefer it over her own cooking. Of course, this is to say that she doesn’t cook much. At my house, I do most of the cooking. She loves certain dishes I cook, but not all. This was the first time in two weeks that I got a chance to sit down with my elders and talk to them, other than in passing when I leave for work or come home around dawn every morning. With the move, it’s just been really hectic to spend time with them. Not to mention my hours make them worry.

Anyway, the conversation at dinner turned toward that awful mess back over in Germany, with the school shooting and eighteen people losing their lives. My mother, a schoolteacher, launched into her side of the debate, discussing the Columbine and De Anza incidents. For those not familiarity with the De Anza incident, a guy on campus was setting charges all over the junior college’s campus and had intended to set them off. He got caught before it happened, though, and recently got sentenced to ninety-nine years in prison. Now, as with all conversations centered around current events, at least in my family, they sometimes break down to philosophy. We started getting in on the parental responsibility to the kids who engage in illegal activity. Where were the parents through all of this? But the difference between Columbine and De Anza was mostly about the fact that Columbine is a high school and De Anza is a college. The students of a high school of course fall under the jurisdiction of their parents, but college students are adults by the letter of the law. Even though still students, they’re typically above the age of eighteen and therefore are not really tried as minors. Plus, add into the effect that while he was living at home, there’s really only so much a parent can answer for, with respect for privacy toward their adult child. In my eyes, you can’t really blame the parents of the guy from De Anza, because in theory all his growing up was already done. My mother countered with the accountability of just knowing what’s going on in your house, not simply the invasion of privacy, but in essence, the respect of an adult child has to begin somewhere. This guy abused that trust and respect, in my eyes, and the parents are pretty much blameless.

We talked on further about the parental issues, the need for more involvement. But the conversation turned toward freedoms. I brought up the notion of freedom of expression, because my grandmother said that while she was in Sacramento, they were protesting against Israel bringing arms against the Palestinians. I made the comment that it was their right to protest, that’s why we have the bill of rights. And then we starting talking about flag burning. Now my grandmother is a little on the conservative side, so of course, she took the stance that there should be an amendment banning the burning of the American flag. I, of course, disagreed. In my opinion, erecting an amendment to that end would be in direct conflict with the bill of rights. The freedom to express your dissatisfaction with the government by burning the flag in protest is protected under the first amendment. I’m sure the Supreme Court would throw out any such amendment accordingly. My grandmother went on about how much the flag meant to my grandfather and that he put his life on the line for the flag. I just commented that without any disrespect to my grandfather, he served his country, not a flag. The people within it. The flag is colored cloth and nothing more, a marker for the United States. It’s not a holy artifact and putting it above natural rights was in direct conflict to the founding principles of this nation. The right to freedoms should not abridged for the sake reverence. This is why church and state are separate. For all of their mistakes and errors, the founding fathers were wise in that they knew they did not have all the answers. The amendment process, checks and balances to ensure against overt tyranny… you have to admit that while the system isn’t perfect, it’s the best we can do right now. Personally, I wouldn’t find myself burning a flag. I’m not so inclined and I do hold it in reverence. That’s a personal belief, and one I wouldn’t dare inflict upon others. They have the right to express themselves, and so long as it isn’t an expression in infringing upon the rights of others, who am I to dissuade them? We judge more often than not by personal morals, a judgment that doesn’t work. I have to have a great deal of respect for the legal system and those that work in it every day, for the hard work they have to put into judging based on simply justice. It’s so easy to be swayed by personal values, rather than what is logically correct. There’s a certain dispassion you have to maintain as a judge sitting on a bench. It’s something I envy.

At the end of the conversation, the result was simply to disagree. My grandmother felt one way and I felt the exact opposite. And to be honest, I believe that I am right. I can’t justify that kind of an amendment simply to sleep better at night. Actually, I couldn’t sleep better at night knowing I live in a country that would shred the Constitution based on immorality. Even though such things do go on, I’m sure that in the end, they will be corrected by our judicial system. After all, that’s why we have checks and balances in the first place.

Apr 28 2002

Pass the Word for Mister Lewrie

So, after finishing The King’s Commission, I went straight to the Barnes and Noble website and ordered me up the rest of the damned series. This would be The King’s Privateer, the Gun Ketch, The HMS Cockarel, and The King’s Commander. Oh, and I ordered The French Admiral for my buddy Robert. He is the one who got me reading Dewey Lambdin, so if you’re sick of reading of how much I love this series, blame him.

Fact is, Robert’s sort of introduced me to a whole slew of cool literary shit. First, he let me borrow the first five books of The Brotherhood of War series by W. E. B. Griffin. I read through The Lieutenants, The Captains, and The Majors. I didn’t get a chance to read The Colonels, but later I just bought that huge tri-book edition they put out in hardcover. I’d have to say that the sophomore edition of that series is my favorite, The Captains. Let’s see, then Robert got me reading Griffin’s other series, The Corps. The first two books, Semper Fi and Call to Arms were amazing. They were both page turners, and I ran out to go buy the third and fourth books. Then I did something stupid. I bought the sixth book and they were out of the fifth book, so I’m sitting at home with no fifth installment. Blah. It was then that he introduced The King’s Coat, and I was hooked right then.

Uh, anyway… let’s curb another paragraph about how cool this series is. I seem to be drawn to books about war, the men and women in uniform. I guess that’s why History is my other major and why I’m choosing to specialize in military history. No wait, not just military history, naval military history. With an emphasis on World War II navies. Oh boy. My mother said I couldn’t get more specific if I were to place another emphasis on American riveting techniques used on World War II battleships.

But, here I am, at work and I’ve already finished my book. Also, in the middle of a sixteen hour shift, because the guy before me was up all night and all day working on racking servers. Meanwhile, the alarms are going off around me and they’re all false. Nothing pisses me off more than false alarms. If we have a stupid monitoring system, it should fucking work. I can deal with a false alarm every now and again, but not every five minutes. It kind of devalues the whole system. Catch a clue, you stupid bastards, and stop wasting my time! ARGH.

Okay, I think my fatigue is setting in for the night. I have just a half hour left to my shift and I hope the guy coming on isn’t too terribly late…

Apr 28 2002

This is the ONLY one of these stupid-ass LJ quizzes I will ever do…

Point is, I saw this on another LiveJournal and since I am such a huge Morning Musume fan…


Which member of Morning Musume are you?

But that’s it. No more quizzes ever (unless there’s one I just must do).

Apr 28 2002

Night and Day, Day and Night…

Ten days.

Ten straight days.

Ten straight days of working

Ten straight days of working fourteen hour shifts.

Am I insane? Prior to this week, you couldn’t get me into work on a day off if you told me that people would wither and die if I didn’t. But for some reason, I feel like I’m totally attentive to my work. I’ve been so gung ho and working on stuff, typing furiously and racking machines left and right until my fingernails have all pretty much been ripped up to shit. For clarification, I let my nails grow out and I’ve stopped biting them entirely. So, now, after three months of not biting them, they’ve kind of grown out and I don’t ever want to cut them. I’m so proud! Anyway, while racking, because of the way my nails have grown, they got in the way and some of them tore… so I had to rip the nail sticking up. Now they all look like shit.

I’d have to say that the only thing making working this hard bearable is the people I work with. I’m not talking about my immediate group, although there are two people on my team I love working with, I’m talking about the people in the other departments that I have to interact with. This weekend, my vice president rented walkie-talkies for the departments to use while we got all the desktop/workstations setup. It’s SO much easier to talk on a radio channel than having to remember desk phone extensions. Speedy. Only problem is that everyone else is listening to your conversation, but really, that’s okay. Especially when you just need a location or a small piece of information. But even so, these guys and gals all turn into children sometimes. They were broadcasting the strangest things. I heard Abba singing Dancing Queen, a toilet flushing, three of them singing in the elevator (“I’m coming up…”). I heard 187’s being declared on everything from hard drives to people… I mean, it’s been quite an interesting week of work, to say the very damn least. To say the most, it’s been hilarious to work with these freaks for so far seven days straight. Not to mention, since I work nights, I hadn’t even met most of these guys until this weekend. I’ve worked at PayPal some eight months, now, too. I guess that’s one of the major upsides to working days, though… actual human interaction. We have some pretty talented women and men working for us, and they all have cool personalities. I’ve seen them at their best and their worst… I’m still consider myself to be in good company.

Moving onto a topic of a different nature, I’ve been spending a lot of time thinking about the past. Okay, okay, so I’ve been doing that a lot. Sue me. I think about the past a great deal. There’s a quotation I seem to keep repeating this weekend, because it happens to have wisdom in it and no one seems to pay attention. Those who do not learn from history, are doomed to repeat it. If I don’t think about the past, then I’m doomed to a cyclic future, and life’s too damn short for me to be repeating myself, don’t you think? Anyway, I was sitting in my car this afternoon, picking up Arby’s for dinner and I saw this Hawai’i sticker on the back bumper of this Acura in front of me. My thoughts leapt to that week I spent in Hawai’i with Stephanie and her family. I remember being a total asshole on that trip. I had to close my eyes and shake my head as all that embarrassment came back up. I refused to participate, I went off on long walks by myself, I listened to my Diamond RIO and I stayed out of conversation. What a fucking moron I was back then. I look back and just scream at myself for being so dense. Of course… that was part of the bigger problem of my marriage. I was just too young for the responsibility of it all. I mean, I understood the concept, but I wasn’t quite mature enough to undertake it and see it through. And she just wasn’t about to stick around long enough to wait for me to grow up, and to be honest, I don’t blame her one damn bit. The most I can do is apologize for being such a prick and hope that gives her closure on it. At least, it would give me some closure. I still feel as though that door is left open and I’m trying to make it work. I could deny it, I could misremember or gloss it over and say it was all her fault. It would solve my problem, sure, but then the next relationship I have would be just as fucked up. What would I have learned? Abso-fucking-lutely nothing. I want to learn from the mistakes I made with my marriage and overcome them. I want to grow up and be mature, and treat the other one with as much consideration and love as she gave me. I wish so much that I could go back in time and slap my past self around with a two-by-four and tell him to grow the fuck up and realize what he’s got. The fear that comes with all of this surrounds the possibility that Stephanie was my only shot at that kind of happiness. But, I can’t believe that. I just can’t, for fear of losing hold of the only part of personality I like the most: my optimism. Better days are coming, of course they are. I’m just feeling the embarrassment of times gone by and all the emotions that are interconnected to that…

Before I switch my mood from hopeful to depressed, I am keeping the stiff upper lip. I am over Stephanie. I know that much. I’ve lived apart from her for a year and a half, now. I’ve gotten used to being single again, and I’ve definitely begun to reacquaint myself with the freedom that comes with that. However, I still love her, and I probably always will. I mean, not in the sense that I’m going to be in love with her, just that I gave my heart away and once that’s accomplished, well… you can’t really turn that off like a light switch or anything close to it. It takes a lot of time to climb out of the hole when you fall in love, but loving someone is forever. I’ll probably die still loving her. Right now, it’s faded for sure. Like an ember that has a little life left to it. It will remain in that state, but I wouldn’t take her back if she begged me. Getting over her was one of the most difficult things I have ever done in my life. I don’t care to put myself back in that spot again. Time for the future, and all the promise it holds for me.

Night and Day
Written by Cole Porter
Sung by Ol’ Blue Eyes

Night and day, you are the one
Only you ‘neath the moon or under the sun
Whether near to me or far
It’s no matter, darling, where you are
I think of you day and night

Night and day, why is it so
That this longin’ for you follows wherever I go ?
In the roarin’ traffic’s boom
In the silence of my lonely room
I think of you day and night

Night and day, under the hide of me
There’s an oh, such a hungry yearnin’ burnin’ inside of me
And its torment won’t be through
Till you let me spend my life makin’ love to you
Day and night, night and day

Apr 28 2002

What Do You Do with a Drunken Sailor?

I’m almost done with the third Alan Lewrie novel, entitled A King’s Commission. I’m trying not to read it too quickly. I’m afraid I’m going to have to say that Dewey Lambdin is Forester’s equal. Lambdin is witty and his writing keeps me wanting more. The character of Alan Lewrie really makes Hornblower look incredibly boring, as I’ve said in the past, but this book sort of drives that point home. Really. I can’t stop raving about how good this book is. If you can, go find The King’s Coat and start at the beginning. More Lambdin books are forthcoming, even. The latest, The King’s Captain just came out a couple of months ago in hardcover. I’m thinking about purchasing it.

Enough about my reading habits for this week. I read my Algebra midterm results online and looks like I got a 92 out of 93, since my professor grades on the curve. So I ended up with an A. No Japanese midterm results, yet, but then my Japanese professor is probably up to her neck in midterms. The math one was done by scantron, so… much easier to grade, I guess. Speaking as a former teacher’s son and aide, scantron GOOD.

As for moving, it’s almost done. We’re settled in, but now we have to clear away all the cardboard boxes, and clean up the NOC for inspection on Sunday afternoon by the Board of Directors and our Senior Vice President. I’ll be on shift for that, so lucky me.

I’ll have more to talk about a little later, but for right now, I’m enjoying the last couple of chapters of A King’s Commission.

Apr 27 2002

Of Late Night Conversations and Contemplating the Future

The first couple of hours of today were spent talking with someone I didn’t really know all that well until the conversation came to a close. I find it most intriguing and fascinating about how much information can pass within the matter of minutes. Opinions, justifications, personal history and experience. I didn’t sense any posturing or superiority from the other person at all. It was rather like a free exchange of ideology or perspectives. Nothing more.

Of course, I’ve always tended to bond with people rather easily. That’s the part of me that my mother refers to as part of the heritage of being my grandfather’s grandson. My grandfather was a father to me during my most formative years. This would be between birth and the age of ten, when he died from a heart attack, right in front of me. All of my life lessons were learned from him, I always held his words in the highest regard. In a sense, when my mother tells me I remind her of her father, I feel a sense of pride. I try to live my life in the only way I know how, but in the back of my mind, I have always wondered if the way in which my life turned out would make him proud. I suspect that despite the low points, he would be. At least, that’s what my grandmother tells me.

Anyway, the conversation was just really good. Given the opportunity, I’d definitely like to talk more, but as the hour grew late and the responses came a little more paused, we had to table it for another time. I’m looking forward to it.

On a related topic, as this was kind of the topic of conversation, I began sort of thinking about the whole relationship thing again. As you’ll recall back in the post about romantic comedies, I waxed philios at you. In truth, it was simply a reaction toward being reminded of old times past. Looking back, it’s been about four months since my last relationship. I have to sort of shake my head about it at times. Given the nature and type, it was doomed from the start, but the romantic in me wanted so much for it to succeed. I despise failure, even though I seem to be mired in it from time to time. In the end, I think things progressed far above their normal speed, and that led to me feeling rushed and uncomfortable. Reading into things, being more sensitive than usual. Also, that whole fear of rejection comes on strong right after a kind of bitter divorce, huh? Doesn’t exactly help matters any at all. Not that I’m accepting all the blame, it does take two to tango. Just that I’m sure I could’ve handled things a little better or perhaps ended it a lot earlier than I did. Instead of feeling so driven to make things work. Should’ve went with my gut feeling that time. Shoulda, woulda, coulda… doesn’t change the past, it just makes regret taste all that more foul.

Following the end, there, I made a lot of snap decisions. One, no more online relationships, period. Later, though, it was made obvious through conversation with some friends that the same thing has happened without it being started online, so singling out the Internet was kind of a bullshit maneuver. Two, no more relationships for the next six months. Admittedly, this was on the advice of a good friend of mine, who just wanted me to take some time to consider things and get a grip. To my very good friend, who knows exactly who she is: I’ve got a grip, now. And it only took four months. By the way, you need to call me. Three, no one under the age of twenty-four. This was thrown out thanks to another good friend, who drove a rather intelligent point home to me. The reason behind this rule was because I was sick and tired of dealing with girls, and not women. By girls, I mean it in the same capacity as women say boys and not men. Immature, inconsiderate, whiny, complacent children. As it was illustrated to me, there are very immature 30 year-olds out there, so age shouldn’t play a major role. There are some nineteen year olds with a good head on their shoulders and maturity to match. Four, she’s got to like scifi and Anime. This one I’m keeping! Sorry. It’s true. If I can’t share those interests, then it’s pretty much a hopeless thing to pursue.

So, in light of all this, what are the rules? The rules are… there are no rules. I still need intelligence and maturity, don’t get me wrong. Those are paramount in any good relationship. After all is said and done, you’re left with the conversations and debates. That’s what matters most, is the communication. Getting over the fears and learning the other person. Swim around in their heart and see how deep it goes, or better yet if you even touch bottom. Would that I could, I would want to swim in a soul mate’s heart for the rest of my life and never touch bottom. That much depth would be absolutely amazing. The other rules are mostly about acceptance. Accepting me for who I am, and not who I might be. She’s got to be able to deal with that. I’m of a certain mindset that if I can’t accept or compromise, then there’s just no point. Otherwise, I’m just going to be one very frustrated and pissed off person to deal with all the time. A relationship can’t work under those circumstances. I have to accept her for who she is, and she me. End, period, paragraph.

Anyway… if that person who I talked to reads this sometime later… then let me take the opportunity to thank that person here. It made me think a lot about the past and the future, and I think maybe now after having discussed that with you, it presented me with a clearer understanding. Further, I’d be very happy to continue to talk as a friend.