appear

my foot so huge right now. i just figured EVERYONE wanted to hear from me in my little shadow. things on my desk: triple antibiotic creme with pain reliever, a half empt..ful..a bottle with some water in it, a battery charger, two non-rechargeable batteries, a glass which used to contain orange juice, a bottle cap. what am i thinking about right now. the music a child plays when he wanders away at a wedding and finds the piano.

don't cry children, everything is gonna be okay.

wednesdays are spelled funny (nes=nintendo)

United Airlines Flight 955
From Lon/Heathrow
To San Francisco

I'm sitting next to a blind man. His name is Edward. He's in the window seat. There's plenty of open spots, but at the moment I wish they were full. I wouldn't have to ponder the idea of filling one. I suppose I'd talk to Edward about it first. He nudged me to see if anyone was sitting next to him. So, "Hello, I'm Andrew." He's visiting his girlfriend in Eugene, there for a week. That's kinda familiar. If this is a play, then this is an interesting scene. My playwrights are feeling ironic I guess. I haven't mentioned the disabled, elderly lady to my right. She's needed as much help getting aboard and settled as Edward. Three's a crippled crowd. I really don't see any reason to move. Heh, then again, I hope Edward doesn't mind the smell of the houmous Katyana packed me.


Well they moved me. Nice arrangements for Edward and me. We now have more room than anybody in first class. I'll stop by occasionally to see how he's doing. I'm just so sleepy.

Charlie Hong Kong

p.s. i really don't like the way text wrapping works
here.

three hurrays for for Paco de Luarca
a dreamer and now a bleeding toereador
what prices would you pay to leave these tables
and stand amidst the crowds a murderer
rather than a poor boy

slain by his own ambition?

and it would have been worth while
to see the light break over the dashboard
one more morning of gray skies and empty plastic cups
traveling down this road that should have ended weeks ago

one more time to ride with you on the broken hillside
that winds down into foliage and bushes
the condor's there or at least the ranger's lies

i'll stay with you this trip, and think it matters like the last
i'm sorry

the dust is rising now, only to settle on us as we pass through

desperate as we are to be carried somehwere else whwere it matters
this time it matters
to become like the housees and bstones and bridges their cousiens became
only separated at his ribs

it's all a shade darker now,'afternoon hides beyhind its companions and i rest
i wish you could seee me now and think i had been like this before

the rubber watch keeps moving on my wrist and pardon me for his sin, but i'd do the same
not like it mattered

i've done it before and i'll do it again

Integral Juniors' Mascot

tenino

so this is Tenino. i got bored while rehearsing my land navigation studies. i have learned much to do about 8 digit grid coordinates, modified resections, and like back azimuths or something while gazing upon this magical land. maybe someday i'll visit tenino, i would totally be able to find the water towers and unimproved roads.

things are just groovy dooby doo over here. oh i bought a car last sunday, that's new. have i posted about that yet? no probably not. i should put up sleek pictures of me squatting next to the rims, but no i think not. i have yet to do laundry at school, which shows how much i have had to drive home. and my room is still minus a beautiful plant.

lately in class shakespeare hamlet jeez, montaigne apology for raymond sabond just finished, descartes' geometry ahh, and galileo dialogues concerning two new sciences.

this should be longer, but i want to brush my teeth and take a shower. i'm going to wear my retainer tonight, guys!

after a post like that, it's good to play poker with your friends. and lose.

for solitude

you're alone, because you're alone
it's your humor, it's your weight, it's your appointment in 7 minutes.
but you're alone, sitting near the wall.
not in the corner, that's where people hide.

and there's obviously something wrong with you.
antisocial, illfitting, blind and deaf
otherwise you couldn't bear it.
being alone

talking to yourself outloud is crazy,
but only so much more than listening to yourself quitely.



sometimes you can't stand them.
it's like they're talking about you, or even worse, to you.

quick, your response. liken it to theirs
before they could think you're different,
make them think you would be just as comfortable sitting at their table.
but wait, what's so wrong with differ...
and it's too late, because you're polite
and now, just like them.
no, i'm not using that chair. go ahead.


after all if you're smiling,
how could anything be hurting you.

and they'll be with you for the rest of the day
in your head, they'll follow you
to your desk, and underneath your sink.
their basketball shorts, their pleated skirts, their keyed lanyards.

if only they could realize, they're just as alone as you are.
in between their giggles and curses, and whines.
they have to listen to their own voice.
or maybe they just can't hear it anymore.

they will have to someday,
when it's no longer them, but he or she.
sighing from the yellow sheets of his last bed.
at some point, that voice is all we have left.

sometimes, scrubbiness is near to godliness?

tribute

is an interesting, official sounding word.

here's to friends.



oh and jessica, back from LAUP. we're proud of you?

august 31

hey hey hey

I spent today at home waiting for calls from St. Mary's about my current stoofs. I also needed to be able to pee in this bottle which must remain in the fridge. I named it Alfred. Keep in mind I thought of much cooler names, but unfortunately these are also the names that many of you have. I couldn't stand the thought of offending you, so I called it Alfred. If it turns out I do know someone named Alfred who is reading this page, hey man, how's it going? I miss you a lot.





update: I'm only at 500ml for the day, I need to step things up.

in going where you have to go, and doing what you have to do, and seeing what you have to see, you dull and blunt the instrument you write with. but i would rather have it bent and dull and know i had to put it on the grindstone again and hammer it into shape and put a whetstone to it, and know that I had something to write about, than to have it bright and shining and nothing to say, or smooth and well-oiled in the closet, but unused.
now it is necessary to get to the grindstone again. i would like to live long enough to write three more novels and twenty-five more stories. i know some pretty good ones.
-ernest hemingway
1938

so rather than charge into the murky waters without an azimuth or without a proper reflection on today's sun, i'll value now. now coming after yesterdays and laying awake, adroit before dawn. note how foggy and clear those dawns can be.

remember how to deal with loss. not that you ever dealt with it, or you maybe you still are. but live with it, and know it may never go away. and then you can fall asleep at night. it hurts, in the stomach and in the chest. it makes you curl up and fall apart in one. but to make it there, where the light glows again. that's where you want to be. and you won't see it then, just think that it's there. fool yourself into believing the truth.

if you're going through hell, keep going.
-winston churchill.

if you're trying to figure out what sort of darkness is present in my life that is coming out in my writing i'm sorry that you're mistaken. mistaken that my life is anything but kind right now. mistaken that i would regard darkness with scorn or temerity.

satisfied in the waiting for the news to come.

Enjoy

Everything went messy last night. Codes were jumbled, processes were bungled, and I was thoroughly humbled by timeouts and disconnects. Luckily no one was awake to see it. The prize and peril of working alone. Aparrently blizzard and smugmug had that kinda night/morning as well.

Elliot, I got your post thingy. So pick up your phone, bro.

It's foggy in Aptos, big surprise. So instead of the beach, you can enjoy your Tuesday with me in the house with my cat who is on her moons again. I just made this lovely gargonzola pasta and was walking back to my room with a steaming bowl, when I saw her in front of the bathroom coughing up some goodness-knows-what-disaster. Ian needs to start cleaning that up, so I walked right by her and shut the door.

Montana? Montaigne? How about Montage...


Sophomores can do the shapoopi.


Me working on the wildlife conservation merit badge. I forgot the name of that rare plant though, think it had ice or wolf in it. If you look closely you can see the necklace I made in handicraft! Who wears short shorts?


Philmont crew. We weren't the fastest hikers, and since we came from sea level we had a natural disadvantage with the altitude. But we were the most efficient and earliest risers so we beat all the other crews, while on the most difficult trek. Augie, Augie, Augie


Matt and the Washington Memorial.


This picture rocks, not so much because of Elliot, but man awesome photography, photographer. Good job.


And then there was new york.




Where did we all go?


See, I can play the piano.


I looked liked Darth Vader in my uniform, and no I was not a kicker.


And then there was my brother's birthday just before he shipped out.


That summer I was at Airborne school. Which one in this picture do you think is me?


Since we couldn't get untangled, why not come down together? You land left, I'll land right? No, no, no we both go right.


On the ground and soon to be celebrating. Alabama terrain never felt so good.


And back again. I've realized that at the start, playing baseball was not so much about my brother and I wanting to play, but rather my mom wanting to dress us up.

purine

The following foods have very high purine levels, and should be avoided completely:

Anchovies
Bouillon
Brains
Broth
Consommé
Dried legumes
Goose
Gravy
Heart
Herring
Kidneys
Liver
Mackerel
Meat extracts
Mincement
Mussels
Partridge
Roe
Sardines
Scallops
Shrimp
Sweetbreads
Yeast (baker’s and brewer’s)
Yeast extracts (e.g., Marmite, Vegemite)
These foods have high purine levels

Fish
Shellfish
Poultry
Meat (except those with very high purine content, noted above, or those with moderately high purine levels, noted below)
These foods have moderately high purine levels

Asparagus
Cauliflower
Legumes
Lentils
Mushrooms
Oatmeal
Peas (dried)
Soy
Spinach
Tripe
Best bets
Beverages (carbonated)
Butter
Cereals and cereal products
Cheese (all kinds)
Cocoa (however, caffeine is prohibited in Lesch-Nyhan Syndrome)
Corn
Cornbread
Eggs
Fruit juices
Fruits
Gelatin
Ice cream
Milk
Noodles
Nuts
Refined wheat flour
Tapioca
Vegetables (except those noted above)
White bread and crackers (but not whole wheat, which is moderately high in purines)
White rice

ikinagagalak ko kayong makilala

I got up a little bit earlier today to warm up my ankles. The time hack for my doctor's appointment was 1315. I'm all ready and stepping off from house at 1245. I know that the doctor will be at least 10-15 minutes behind schedule, so I'm on good time. I arrive at 1300 and curses I forgot to compensate for the fact that my mom thinks I'm lazy and gives me bogus early times to show up at appointments. That's okay, 50 minutes in a waiting is no problem, especially if you have good reading material.

A guy walked in with an ace bandage wrapped around his calf. He's mexican, and had hair down to his ears. I thought he might be someone I know, but not really. He had x-ray's under his arm. The receptionist lady was nice. I say lady, but she was only a few years older than me. I imagine if I made the same mistake I did countless times while in Kentucky and said, "ma'am" to her, she would have been pissed. But she was nice, and seemed comfortable at her desk. Except for not speaking spanish. It took a few exchanges for me to gauge that his english was about as good as my spanish. It was weird, because he didn't have a thick accent or anything, so it was hard to tell how much was nerves, and how much he just couldn't understand.

"Hey man, puedo ayudar un poco."
"Ahh thanks bro, no se que ella quiere."
"Creo que necessitas el seguro, tienes la tarjeta?"
"No, no la tengo."
"Can you tell him that it's going to cost 146 dollars if he's not covered by insurance.?"
"Uhm, I think he understands that number. Tienes dinero? (ahh man, I suck at numbers)cien cuarenta y seis?"
"Sh-, no tengo dinero."

At this point I wondered how many times this exchange was occuring in California today. He had x-rays, so I'm thinking he'd seen a doctor pretty recently. Problem is this was Sutter, and odds are he got those done at Dominican.

"Should I tell him to talk to the business office?"
"Yeah can you do that? They should be able to sort out whether or not we can see him, or if he needs to go to another provider."

She drew a map on a piece of a paper, and I did my best to explain the instructions. Totally reminded me of all those direction exercises from Spanish II...a la izquierda. Good luck, bro.

Dr. Blakeslee was pretty cool. He went to Cal, so we had the mandatory schmoozing about all the wackos there. That schmoozing comes after I tell him that I take ROTC there, to explain injuries. From there he assumes I go to Cal, but I dislike wackos cause I'm in the army. Okies, I'm familiar with this. Schmoozing goes fine.



After a brief history of my ankles covering the last 3 years, and a synapse on the myriad of things my mom thought the chronic swelling could be a symptom of, Blakeslee was ready to go to work. He wanted to tap my ankle joints in several spots to get a good idea of what was going on down there. Yipee.

First he freezes the spots to numb them before the needle. I decided to watch for the first one to see how far the needle was going in. Yeah, a good few inches. There's not any real pain at first since everything's numb, but you get that weird feeling knowing that much needle is in your ankle joint. We were doing a good job keeping my mind off things with conversation, but then it just went dead. He was having difficulty pulling a good amount at one spot so he had to push a little deeper. Oh great, now I'm thinking about the needle in my joint. Think about something else:pine trees, car freshners, dorm rooms, katyana in san diego, pan de sal, pan de sal, pan de sal.

Every few minutes he would look at me and tilt the bed back to make sure I wouldn't pass out. I would've said I was fine, but I didn't want to be one of those macho guys that says that right before they faint.

After that it was time to hobble over to the santa cruz medical clinic lab to get a blood panel. The medical assistant brought a fistful of vials over, and just had to pick the smallest vein. It took forever.

That was like $1,000 worth of tests. So don't worry guys, I'm sticking it to the insurance companies.

Tomorrow is ankle squeeze and track time.

finish what you started?

So my friend, who has played and loved soccer for 15+ years, is finally finishing his career. He's played everything from travel leagues to NCAA ball. Yet somewhere along his line, poor coaching and team mates letting him down took the fun out of the sport. He says that the decision to leave soccer is definitely a burden of stress off his shoulders.

Yet people give him crap like:
"Lace em up and hit the field pal. If you don't you will regret it for the rest of your life."
and
"No.... it's about finishing what you started."

What exactly did he start? I'm sure when he first began, it was because he enjoyed it. I doubt he signed a contract with himself that said he would play soccer for X amount of time, and only then would he be finished. While there's much that can be said about commitment and dedication, it's a game. When you play, you don't have to make a choice to assign your destiny to the whim of the sport. There's so much out there that could be better, and he's finally accepting that he may want something else. And people call him a quitter.

feetsy

So about the swollen foot. My mom and I have decided this qualifies as a chronic injury. It swelled up after driving to San Francisco and back, and it's definitely achey (sp?). We're not sure if it's tendonitis at this point or whatever, but it's wonderfully messy. To give you an idea on the state of my foot here is an illustration I've thought up. Step on a tennis ball first, and then reach down and give the tendons surrounding your right ankle a sharp yank. You should be able to feel the pangs all up and down the muscle tissue. If I had to liken this foot to an animal I would say a piggy, a piggy that's eaten so much the skin is stretching around its belly.

I can ice it to put the swelling down, but then it becomes sore and stiff. At this point I can squeeze it into a neoprene brace, which is usually a relief until the swelling starts again. When it does, I can feel my pulse in my heel, as the blood fills whatever pockets there are down there. It makes my toes look funny too, kinda like they don't serve any purpose except to sit there and look pudgy. Teehee

I'll probably see a foot specialist who will ask me if I've seen those nifty neoprene ankle braces and tell me to use lots of ice and ibuprofen. Ah well. This is the point where I'd normally put a picture up of my disfigured ped, but I still think my '02 foot ordeal was much more interesting, and I'd rather everyone see that. Unfortunately I can't find any pictures, so we're all left to imagination. Speaking of imagination; 30 seconds, important feet in history-go!

-Achilles' heel
-Oedipus' pierced feet
-a serpent strikes a man's heel, man crushes serpents head. hrmmmmmm
-General Wellington (the man who defeated Napolean) yeah he was shoe designer.
-and pirates with peglegs

=)

So because I stayed awake all last night, and drove my dad to San Francisco International this morning, I managed to fall asleep at a decent hour. For the first time I can remember I was enjoying the unique yet normal sleep of the 9-5 worker. I was even conked out on the couch like the good times of old. And then I felt a burning sensation on my thigh. It wasn't all together unpleasant, kinda like icy hot, after the icy part. It was at this time that I realized my cat was peeing in my lap. Oh heavenly angels, yes. Cat pee at midnight. After tossing off the blanket (my preferred, non-lame blanket) and clothes and a long shower, I still can smell the faint acidic scent of cat pee pee. Lovely.

And a miracle of life is that is the extent of my immediate problems right now. Well my ankle ballooned up after driving for 4 hours without moving it, and theirs always bills to be paid. But really, thanks huh? I'll take cat pee any day.


the culprit.

here it is

So I was in San Diego last week. In all accounts of my life over the past 1 1/2 months, this was probably the event I thought about the most. I swear I used every trick I've learned to speed up the time beforehand and to slow it down during the week, but sand inevitably slips through your fingers. So I'm typing here, while my cat sits on my computer and cleans herself. I guess I should tell a story now, before it all blurs.


objects in mirror are closer than they appear. ah hah

I guess the best thing to do is run through the list of things officially done.

There was Balboa Park and the photographic(I can't pronounce that)exhibit. What kind of photographs were there? Why, there were 1000 megapixel shots of San Diego and vintage snapshots. Also there were prints of the National Geographic photo of the girl from Afghanistan in purple (the one with the green eyes) and the photo of her taken years later. There was even an exhibit made up of cell phone pictures, which we didn't see because Katyana didn't want to see.


there was EXTREME dog walking.

Honey, of course, is a sassy beast. I thoroughly enjoyed her kisses. We logged quite a few miles on the old leash, and partook in much naptime.


after being walked over countless times, I learned my lesson. See the family?

My adept, little tour guide took me to see the beaches, La Holla shores and Del Mar, I think? There was basketball, and whole foods, and rented movies, and jamba juices, and homemade sesame noodle salads, and even coffee. I saw much of the San Diego parks and library systems.


and coronado.

Really it was a blast of a time, and this is in no way the end of the story. I'm still working one of those things I've learned and savoring the telling. Expect things later,
good things.

and I'm back

Flew in from Nashville last night and I'm sitting in my room again. Rather than tell you about Ft. Campbell I'll tell you about Santa Cruz, California. Clean air, pleasant people, slower cars, stuff to do other than watch movies, people that don't make you feel foreign because you're not Caucasian and don't speak like they do, quietness, comfortable climate, and well...there's mexican food and chinese food and japanese food and korean food and tai food and fruit food. If you do want to hear more about my time, you can chat me up. Preferably in person. It'd be better that way.

I'll post more later, but I'm a little torn up right now. I'm gonna play with my cat instead. My buddy is supposed to email me pictures, and I'll put those up if I get them.

Oh and, thanks to Mr. Doval, you can see how close we sat to the symphony this last semester.

air assault

so i've up and gone to kentucky, land of fried chicken and the place where horses run that race. i'll be back on june 30th, barring any upset. i leave you with pictures of my Lola's birthday. is that weird?


from left to right: Auntie Nini, Auntie Nancy, Lola, Auntie Grace, Mom, Auntie Aida


left to right again: Uncle Bobby,Auntie Aida, Uncle Tom's Dad, Mom, and three random asians i have no clue about.

i'm wearing that same shirt again

no reading this unless you're already bored. I don't want to be blamed for that.



I run in the late afternoon.
I can usually tell the way the run is going to go by how my socks feel when I pull them on. Everytime I start a run, it feels like I can count on my fingers the number of times I've gone running. I think that's because all those bygones are exactly that, and this one will hurt just like they all did.

I have to throw my cat across the living room and burst out the door to keep her from following me. And that's how my run begins. Throwing away agility, while I try to maintain dexterity. I start too fast. I think about how I'm starting too fast, I think about form, I think about what I should be thinking about, and then somewhere along that line of insecurity I settle in.

One of the better parts about the run is the 50 meters of eucalyptus trees before hidden beach. It makes me feel like I'm running a little bit more alone than I am. That's kinda nice. You can never get through hidden beach park without seeing a dog, and wishing you had a dog with you. And then I come crashing down to the beach.

The dry sand softens my footsteps and I slow way down. Just have to get to the shoreline. Last week the sand was a bit cushier than normal. It's probably good for my joints, but I'm glad this week it was a bit more firm.

At this time of the day the sun is right in my face, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Sometimes the wind is blowing right in your kisser too. That's always great. I run alongside the water, and sort of scoot out of the way when it draws closer. It's funny because when I fatigue I get worse and worse at judging how far the water will come. People on the beach do beachey things, and I pass by. The humidity from the ocean makes the sweat on my face stay, and the salt burns the skin just a tad. I always shoot a glance to the water before turning towards Rio Del Mar.

And then there's the hill. The sun is on my back now, and my legs which used to feel like sharp springs now feel like dull, rusty springs you'd find in a junkyard. They're still springs though, and warm. I think about stopping and walking, but that won't happen. I don't remember the last time I did, but I can imagine someday I'll go for a run, and just stop. I won't even be that tired, at least not more so than I have been thousands of times before. But I'll just stop, and that will be it.

When the hill is done, it's nice at the top. It'd be nicer if you didn't have to dodge cars, due to lack of sidewalk. But really it's over once I hit the top. On the way down into Sumner and the shade, I might as well be riding in a car with the ac on. The road winds, and I kick, even though I should have kicked 400 meters ago. And then it's done. I'm at the mailbox again, and I notice how dirty my car is. My brother just washed his truck again. I pant while walking around the yard, and then I stumble while taking my shoes off at the door.



And for you picture buffs!

My mom and my auntie Aida (in pink) con watered down mai tai's.

hihihi

Another early morning blogalog. If this was a time capsule....hrmmmmm...Michael Jackson is still awaiting verdict deliberations, Deion Sanders signed with the Ravens for another year, and it's raining in June. That would sound a lot more poetic if it was July.

Meanwhile the interview requests are starting to pour in now that I have somewhat commited to a job. We'll chalk them up as safeties and be happy about it.

How many different uses/definitions of "chalk" can you think of?


Off the top of my head, 3.

In under 15 seconds, how many animals begin with the letter "B"?


bear, beaver, boar, big elephant...

And now for the pictures. It's not like you came to read my interesting prose, anyways.
*sigh*

Kent's looking top shop these days. You'll notice the cool guy haircut. You'll also notice the ring on his lip. Great googily moogily Kent, what if it snags on an apple? I remember that happened to this kid on my baseball team once, oh wait it was his girlfriend's. That's okay, at least it looks good.
.
Here's Elliot trying to mount my cat, Bambella. I understand they're both in heat.
.
OH MY GOSH, ST. MARY'S IS SO CRAZAY! Katyana hunny buns, when you send me pictures, I automatically have permission to post, yes? Mayfest '04 if you care, and you do!
.
And while sifting through pictures earlier this week, this lovely portrait came back into existence. Upon viewing the photo, it's easy to understand our glamorous run through high school. Hey what the... how'd the Mexican get in the picture?

boys back in town

So my brother got a 4-day pass for memorial day weekend. His wife, my sister-in-law, Marta has 24 hour CQ duty in El Paso, so he made the flight out to California for the first time in nearly 1 1/2 years. He's sporting a green beret these days, but you'd never know it. Funny how someone can be a snake eater and your big brother at the same time.


Oh no, Andrew's the shortest now.

On Friday we took a jeep up my dad's hill and did some mondo, extreme off roading. In typical Norris style we got the jeep stuck in some terrain they would couldn't walk in, more or less drive in. Also in typical Norris style, we got the jeep unstuck...the hard/complicated way.


While I enjoyed the majesty of nature...


My brother appreciated it in his own, subtle way. No seriously, I drove that bad boy too. Impressed?


Our dog, Ranger, is an old bear now. He's still bouncy, but his bones are slowing down a bit. We took turns on Sunday cutting his hair.


Just like old times. Oh look, Andrew doing work while Stuart and Ian look good in shades? Hmmmmm.

So yes the weekend rocked like old. Stuart's headed back to Ft. Bragg for language school on Monday. He got Tagalog, and I've decided to pick it up as well. I'd insert some witty Tagalogish comment in here, but I'm still too ashamed of my skills. Maybe next time. Once he's finished there he goes to S.E.R.E school (survive evade resist escape...school). Basically it's a run away, get captured, and beat to a pulp type school. It's 2 weeks, and he says that it will suck, but I guess it's not one of the school's where they try to weed you out. And then finally he'll be stationed in Ft. Lewis, Washington. I'll be there next Summer, so that should be groovy.

Anyways, catch you later.

No New Camera Yet

Well, I'm still short on funds, and even more lackluster as far as a job goes. I'm sure the fine establishments such as Chaminade, Bittersweet Bistro, and Gayle's Bakery are just waiting for a good moment to tell me they need my services. In the meantime that camera will have to wait, and you'll just have to look at old photos. Nostalgia, another word you just have to think twice about using.


Team Brown, MVC's ASB seniors of '03, obviously doesn't have a clue.




Internet library research? Or maybe Kent was just showing Andrew the lights he was going to put in his rice rocket. How long did that car last, Kent?



And I know what you're thinking. Why can't I be Filipino, too? Simply because we keep it in the family.


Enough's enough. I'm overweight, posting on a blog site, and about to eat some ice cream. My older brother would smack me if he saw me right now. Which brings up an important subject. I'm picking him up from the airport, and haven't seen him in 15 months. Alot changes in 15 months, yes? The fact that we are brothers, no.

pwned!

i knew this would be fun.