Anti-Tsunami

I buy Freud’s whole theory of the Oedipus complex, and the primal scene, and psychotherapy — without completely understanding it.

In light of Mad Hot Ballroom, I am starting to obsess about socialization and child development. It’s especially hard in a society where success is largely consistent with financial prosperity rather than happiness. Note: I admit that I have no idea what I’m talking about. I am trying to flesh through my ideas.

As humans, most parents mess up. However, how and when they mess us up differs based on a number of factors.

MISTAKES DURING DEVELOPMENT
When my sister was four, he told her that she was left on the doorstep, and that’s where he picked her up. She internalized this and resents him regarding same, more than 50 years later. This is an example of the one-time mistakes parents make we are children and are often rooted in the frustrations of daily life and/or prompted by a lack of resources, education, or judgment. My parents made lots of mistakes like that. The effect? These kinds of mistakes screw with children to the extent that they may lack direction, or ambition, or a safety net. I got lucky.

POST-DEVELOPMENT MISTAKES

Then, there are the late-onset problems; the type of problems that afflict Richie Rich. Most of our problems interpersonally and societally seem to revolve around issues of power. These issues arise from a regimented and safe life; where parents did provided a safety net by doing everything parents are "supposed" to do. Most of the time these kids turn into well-educated and lucrative adults. However, security does not come without a cost. The trade-off is that these kinds of parents try to stunt their childrens’ growth in their quest for retaining power. They expect not only consultation, but adherence to their executive orders, in the simplest of pursuits, and use their generalized "success" as a justification for their expectations — even if their success has no relationship to their alleged expertise.

PROPOSED SOLUTIONS?

In terms of the mistakes our parents made during development — the past is the past. As adults we should generally understand our parents’ fallibility, and gain little by throwing these incidents back in their faces.

Regarding the post-development genre of problems, it is incumbent upon us, and necessary to our
relationship with our families, and our self-perception, to not give our
parents unrestricted power over our lives.  Within reason, your dignity is more valuable than a little thrifyness or debt.

Essentially, don’t let your parents "success" and their conceptions of same allow them to stunt your’s.

OK - now for things I am qualified to discuss:

Friday, I did my laundry at 7 AM. I love starting the day
that way, and felt fresh and invigorated. I bought a new orange towel at
Walgreens last week that was leaving remnants of orange lint on me all
week, (which was pointed out mid-day by my waiter at Boudin) so I was happy to wash that. For my nicer clothing, I used a wash
and fold service. Slightly overrated.

Al Gore was on campus on Friday. He looks chubby and was a
boring-as-hell speaker for the 5 minutes that I watched. Afterwards,
while I was waiting for the MUNI I was approached by a Forrest-Gump
type guy who asked me to sign a petition. I did. He then asked me what part
of the Arab world I was from. I told him I was a Puerto Rican Jew. He
then asked me if I liked his new glasses. Weird.

For dinner, I went to a good Chinese restaurant in the Castro. and we went to a friends house drank wine, hung on his porch, I smoked a cigar and it was fun and nice.  Ate flatbread before bed. Cuddled with the regulars. Easy.

Saturday, Woke up, sampled like a crazy man at the Farmers market.
Bought a belated birthday caricature and went to buy furniture. So I have this strange relationship with the 65+ year old woman who
sold me my furniture. I went to her warehouse yesterday, and the phrase
"below the belt" came up. She said "I bet you have a lot below the
belt." I smiled and didn’t really respond. Then she inquired less
rhetorically. I was like: "sure, yeah." Then she replied very directly,
"yeah? yeah? hmmmmmm." Weird.

Last night, I attended a co-ed bachelorette party in North Beach.

We went this really local fusion Irish pub/Indian restaurant called Kennedys Pub and Curry House. The waitress had the highest pitched voice I have ever heard. It was almost a joke. It was a totally not contrived, 80’s-ish scene with great late-night chow. The masala dosas were great. People were super friendly and diverse. We had a few friendly people who just stopped by to chat about world economic development, affirmative action, and prostitution. Go!

There was a particularly interesting woman: a liberal chemical engineer who works for a company that produces weapons of mass destruction who is named after an artificial chemical.

Also, went to this place called Blend, which was interesting. I neither hated nor loved it. It was definitely a good looking crowd, with some people of course dressed in costume. The music was good, but it had kind of a post-fraternity feel to it. People seemed like they were in frats at Florida State, but recently discovered Urban Outfitters. I had a couple of shots. I was with a largely South Asian crowd, and some of the patrons bowed at us as a condescending ethnic reference — yes, even in San Francisco. I don’t know if the people I was with noticed, but it obviously put me off.

Sunday, I just sat around in my PJs all day. Then, I went to Trader Joes, cooked dinner for some friends. I rarely cook, so it was definitely a novelty. The dinner was tasty and followed by supermarket cookies.  I think supermarket chocolate chip cookies are what Cookie Monster would prefer. Lately, all I’ve had are gourmet cookies. I don’t think Cookie Monster would go near those with a ten-foot pole. Give me some crispy day-old cookies with a big glass of 1% and I’m putty. Afterwards, we watched Fight Club. It definitely affected me, but I would never watch it again. It was smart, but a little too dark and rigid for my tastes. I am also pretty sure that my friend’s roommate is literally psychotic, which is scary. There is just something in his eyes. I could see him just click off or something.

What is normal? Don’t we all just think of ourselves as normal?

Here is the definition:

1. Conforming with, adhering to, or constituting a norm, standard, pattern, level, or type; typical: normal room temperature; one’s normal weight; normal diplomatic
   relations.
2. Biology. Functioning or occurring in a natural way; lacking observable abnormalities or deficiencies.
3. Abbr. n or N Chemistry.
   1. Designating a solution having one gram equivalent weight of solute per liter of solution.
   2. Designating an aliphatic hydrocarbon having a straight and unbranched chain of carbon atoms.
4. Mathematics.
   1. Being at right angles; perpendicular.
   2. Perpendicular to the direction of a tangent line to a curve or a tangent plane to a surface.
5. 1. Relating to or characterized by average intelligence or development.
   2. Free from mental illness; sane.

n.

1. Something normal; the standard: scored close to the normal.
2. The usual or expected state, form, amount, or degree.
3. 1. Correspondence to a norm.
   2. An average.
4. Mathematics. A perpendicular, especially a perpendicular to a line tangent to a plane curve or to a plane tangent to a space curve.

It’s a pretty weak definition and an empty, natural law-oriented word. I am going to try to take it out of my vocabulary, at least in terms of describing people.

My jury duty got delayed. (That’s how it works in California)
I planned my year-long work calendar out.
I am interviewing candidates for Dean of Admissions for the next two weeks.
I ate all vegetarian yesterday.
I have a HUGE gala I am hosting next Wednesday, which conflicts with my voice class. Hoping I can attend the tail end of my voice class.
I think a couple of us are going to plan a trip to LA in 3 weeks or so. I like LA.
I use too many adverbs.

My father’s trip was dandy in the end, though admittedly draining. The last night he was here we had a trifecta of parents that we took to Gudoo’s. It was fun. I am eating on the cheap this week because I bought so many of his meals.

Tonight was my first musical theatre class at American Conservatory Theatre. I am in an advanced class, where there are 8 people enrolled. I was totally intimidated by my classmates, insofar as they are all professional actors, have voice coaches, etc. We warmed up like I had never done before.  Tonight I sang for the first time in like 5 years — at least formally. I sang the "Impossible Dream" from Man of La Mancha. I was so nervous that I held onto the sheet music. Let me tell you, it felt SOOOOO good. My singing teacher is seriously famous. She was on Access Hollywood the other day because she is William Hung’s voice teacher. My accompanist plays at Carnegie Hall.  My teacher was literally gushing about me, saying that my "instrument" is "luscious." The class makes me feel like a million bucks.

Lately I have had all these realizations.

(1) That friendships are hard after relationships because a good relationship is based on vulnerability. Meanwhile, break-ups are all about pride. The two don’t jibe.

(2) Vulnerability is the hallmark of a good friendship,in general, and is something you can lose just like in an intimate relationship. I don’t know if a relationship is worth maintaining without some level of vulnerability. I have a friendship that tests this notion, which makes the friendship worth maintaining.

(3) The only time I try to impress people is when they intimidate me; when I give them the power to make me brag.  Ironically, the only time I can’t stand somebody is when they are trying to impress me.

(4) I also realized that I have never — and I mean NEVER — lived in a house for more than 2 years. My conception of home must be so different than other people’s.

I can’t stand when people feel sorry for me for the way I was raised. I don’t feel sorry for me, so you shouldn’t. I like me. I like my family. I love that they are open. There are plenty of married couples who fuck up their kids. My family loved me unconditionally. I always felt safe. I always had food to eat and shelter and good education. Those are the things that matter, not a license. I always say to people who hate divorce — name one couple who divorced who should still be married.

So, when I was in Salt Lake City, I kept on repeating how the mayor was a Dem. Well, lo and behold,  he is a graduate of GGU Law, and he e-mailed me yesterday. The synchronicity never ends.

I hate doing laundry. I overstuffed the bigger machine and I noticed my clothes weren’t wet, but dried them anyway. Turns out the machine was so stuffed that the stuff in the middle didn’t get washed, so I dried a bunch of dirty clothes. Now I have to get up at 7 to do laundry.

Tomorrow I am interviewing prospective Deans of Admission.

Lately, I have been really gullible. My mom called my work today and tricked me into thinking she was a Professor from Miami University. You wonder where I get my sense of humor from.

I had a lovely dinner with my friend’s mother yesterday. She cooked risotto with asparagus, shrimp, and parmesan.

It was exciting to watch the earthquake coverage on the news yesterday.

I have jury duty next week.

China is almost certainly going to happen.

I am getting together with my ex-co-worker soon who is going to give me a baby kombucha culture.

And, to answer a question that was posed — no, cuddling cannot compensate for job-hatred.

Yesterday it rained. The rain here is misty rain, like I imagine it would be in Ireland or Scotland. I consider it sort of therapeutic and conducive to self-reflection. I love listening to certain Seattle grunge songs while I walk down the street with lots of people scurrying about under grey skies. Today is beautiful again. We are so spoiled in the Yay Area, and I hate when people here complain about the weather. People just need to complain I suppose. I guess I am complaining. Case-in-point.

My dad’s visit is stressful, to say the least. It’s weird knowing that this is probably the most quality time I will spend with him for rest of our lives. He can barely walk. The worst part is that he thinks and/or says he can; that he just prefers using a car (though he won’t dare rent one here). He hasn’t come to terms with his reality. Being delusional is just a defense mechanism that is maybe better than awareness of one’s reality. My dad literally thinks 34-year old women are hitting on him. It’s just sad. He also says "chinamen" when referring to Chinese people.  Overall, it’s scary to see him and see how immobile my mom may be in a few short years. Now for the positive: the man has a great outlook and sense of humor — and all his teeth and hair (and it’s not all grey).

Joanna has been a God-send. We stocked up on kombucha, which is currently in short supply. Then, we took my dad in her car to the outer Richmond where it was hella foggy. I think he was going stir-crazy in his hotel and he needed to get the Hell out of there. In the Richmond, we ate very traditional chinese food, amongst an all Chinese-save-for-us crowd. The food, including a new vegetable to me, on-choy, is both delicious and cheap. So far, my father has expected me to pay for all his meals. Yesterday he said how much he paid for my private school, which is some sort of justification. GEEZ: he has paid for nothing my entire life! I am not going to waste my time being resentful. Rather, I’m just going to use him as an example of how not to be in certain ways.

I want to go to China for my next vacation.

I auditioned for a basic singing class at American Conservatory Theatre. Somehow I ended up in a very advanced and selective class called "Audition" which professionals take before they audition for roles in major musical theatre productions. I am hella stressed about it, but ready to take music seriously. I need to find a practice space. How and why do I get myself into these situations? It’s just in my cards, I suppose.

Last night I cuddled with two ladies. I was the bologna in the sandwich. It was great cuddling. I woke up heartwarmed and recharged.

Work has been good though. I love that work is good. It’s SO important to love your job.

Two tips: If you don’t love your job, you should. And, cuddle: it’s good medicine.

Blogging is getting increasingly harder, because I don’t want to compromise identities. With that said, so much of what I have to say is bound in observations of other friendster members. I think I just need to change the nature of my entries; to discuss the subtext without the text. That’s what
matters anyway, no? For law students, I am going to TRC instead of TRAC.

Lately, I have been more connected to my professional life than my personal life; my personal ties have been strained due to a steady flow of evening receptions, out-of-state weddings, and visitors. Given this reality, I value sleeping more than anything. My bed is my ultimate refuge and has assumed a persona in my life.My bed and I are best buds.

Do you ever find that others are more engaged in your romantic love life than you are? People worry so much about that stuff. It’s comical to me.

I can’t imagine having kids. I used to name my sister’s cabbage patch kids, and little plants i grew in borden milk cartons b/c i wanted to be a dad so badly. i love hanging out with kids, but instead of having my own, I want my friends to have kids and to be Uncle Andrew and the ultimate godless-Godfather. notably, i think i would be a fine father — above par, in fact.

I am so excited for my friend who is transitioning from law to university work. I know he is going to love it.

Oh, Glide Church. I love how it applies the charismatic energy of pentecostals and adapts to it nonsecular and social justice message. The irony is that the nonreligious categorically love it and it turns off those who have a strong idea of what church should be: somber, serious, and morose. It’s sad how religious persons’ conceptions are competitive rather than all-inclusive. I guess it’s easy for me to judge, given my agnostic status.

I hate how tourists are attracted to touristy, hyper-consumerist places, like Fisherman’s Wharf and TGI Fridays.

I don’t like that so much of what we do as a society is shop, though I don’t hate shopping.

I never loved nature before, but now I crave trees, oceans, mountains, and space — preferably near a major metropolis.

I have been particularly financially responsible as of late. I increased my debt to credit ratio. I opened a new card with 0% balance transfers for the next year. This will save me $50 a month. I am going to freeze the actual card in a cup of water. I’ll thaw it with a blow dryer in an emergency. Also, I have ING’s orange savings account with a 3% return = highly nifty.

I am really trying to get in a music class at ACT, even if I have to deal with that drama queen asshole again.

I really like garlic. I don’t find it disgusting at all.

I was personally invited to join the Church of Latter Day Saints. I am honored.

I wish meat wasn’t once an animal.

I made an ultimate song compilation for petey. I should share it with the general populace:

aimee mann’s song from the i am sam soundtrack

brick by ben folds five

between the bars by elliott smith

change the world by eric clapton

cowboys and angels by george michael

do you sleep by lisa loeb

danger by mystikal

in between by duncan sheik

sick of myself by matthew sweet

sinner by neil finn

this years love by david gray

cigarettes and chocolate milk by rufus wainwright

grey gardens by rufus wainwright

salsita by sin palabras (the best of modern latin music — only on morpheus -
not on itunes)

blackbird by sarah maclachlan

shibobo by TKZee

happy phantom by tori amos

pressure by billy joel

throw in the pink panther and peanuts theme songs and you have a heavenly mix.