JAU's Journal

5:36pm: So as it turns out my roommate is fairly amazing. While shy and quiet at first, he actually has a very sharp sense of humor and a nice ability to communicate.I certainly lucked out. Frankly, I don't think I even want the other boys to return from the Vegas oblivion. Bored or not, I like it just me and Brandon.

"Yeah, if a girl suddenly calls me on spouting lines or something I freeze. I'm like wait, that's not in the script.I have no rebuttal. I'm forced to revert back to, hey you're cute"
roomie

3:56pm: It's like I'm digging through this barrel of emotions trying to find the old vintage one that would perfectly fit this moment, this night. It remains elusive. The tired costumes of anxiety, amusement, and apathy sag on my sturdy limbs. I just don't know. I could convince myself of many things: it's all just too funny, it's all just too sad, it's all worked out in the end. Yet, I recognize the liar in me. Sometimes I think I don't even have the words necessary to tell the truth. Best just settle with an attractive sounding lie. The only thing I feel certain of is that I hurt for my mom who stabbed herself in the hand with a knife and I wish Shawn had called.

9:28pm: Goodbye Unicorn
Listening to music makes me feel so much more. Its as if my audio sensory function is connected to my chemical firings. It literally makes me feel better. Awesome. Classical music especially. Music tends to make me think more clearly and for longer durations as well.On the days where I listen to music on the way to work,I am decidedly more active,tuned in, envigorated, for the beginning of the day. I forget this sometimes though. I will go for days,weeks even, without tuning in to Fiona,Bach,Peter Yorn,Incubus, and then I turn up the music and suddenly I can't believe I've gone this long. It feels almost drug like. Morphine. I wonder what the brain looks like when it is processing music. I read a study once that people who listen to music when they jog have better abilities to articulate,read, and write in the hours following their exercise. Neat.

There is this kind of wierd thing that happens to me in these very specific scenarios that I'm not sure happens to everyone. The feeling is akin to getting the chills but not at all biting. It is like if the feeling you get right at the begining of getting the chills was slightly dampened and prolonged.It feels awesome. I get this feeling mostly when someone is explaining something to me in an intimate setting. Like for instance, when I went and met with this woman from the American Association for the Advancement of Science she was explaining to me an airplane crash case the orgainzation was involved in. She has a very even soft voice and I just got this feeling. It's so strange. I only get this feeling in these explaining scenarios. Also, it often occurs when people are being particularly frank, or honest. It's almost like an "I feel special feeling" because this person's energy is so focused on me and taking the time to make me understand sometimehing. It's so strange. I wonder if everyone gets this little special feeling. I've never really heard it described in literature or anything before, it's very specific and different from any other feeling I get (actual physical feeling like blushing or having to pee or arousal etc.)

I went and saw the Supreme Court on Monday as they heard arguments for and against allowing the medicinal use of marijuana. Very interesting arguments. Scalia made the appellant attorney feel like a real jerk when he didn't know if a decision in his favor would be likely to raise or depress the cost of MJ on the market. Also, the attorney did not know the population of CA, which I thought was rather dissapointing as that information appears in the US brief (34 million). I thought it was funny how the appellants side looked so...high. When they swore in the attornies in the begginning proceedings this pair popped up that looked like they had just gotten back from Woodstock. All old with a white long ponytail and frizzy hair. Too funny. Another highlight was when Justice Breyer admitted, quite frankly, that he did not know whether or not, regardless of the medical tesetimony in the case at hand, marijuana was ACTUALLY medically advantageous. A Justice admitting he thinks it is possible this entire case rests on the desire of a bunch of folks to just smoke weed in peace. Hahah. nice

9:45am: DC n Me
Being here in DC is so strange, for many reasons. Primarily,-I feel like a walking resume.Every person I meet is a potential connection. At least my roommates seem to think so. Case in point, last night we went out with Hilary's parents to help celebrate her 21st birthday. It so happens that her parents are very wealthy. Accordingly, Trina and Jeni acted like they wanted to either be their best friend or take them to bed. I swear, those comments and giggles were FLIRTY.I feel improperly socialized, and yet, I can't help but like my way better.
When did it becom acceptable to replace actually funny comments and lively conversation with merley the pretense of such a reality. And when did it become so difficult to tell the difference.

9:53am: never take candy from a molestor
Child molestors are bad. True true true. However, why is it that with this particular crime people place no responsibility on the children? Not blame, never blame, but some responsibility. It is not as if children have no agency. It is not as evolved an agency as adults, really not even in the same ball park, but children still make decisions.I think that giving some children a sense of responsibility for their sexual health even at a young age, could be very preventative. Schools ardently teach children "stranger danger", yell and tell an adult if a stranger pulls up in car etc. etc. The words are carefully chosen to not alarm them, but the warning is still there. Why is it any different for crimes of sexual abuse, or physical abuse? It is a problem that is much more frequent than kidnapping and yet no one arms children with the tools to take responsibility for their safety.
Some people might think that this would expose children too early to sexuality. I find this ridiculous. It's not as if bringing up such a topic would make kids suddenly sexual! First of all, they are probably already feeling early, natural, inklings of sensuality. Second, if they are not faced with a situation in which they need to use the machinery against a molestor, or have no idea why the teachers are telling them about these sexual predators, they will just be a bit confused or think the advice is weird. This is decidedly not harmful in comparison to abuse. So, i think we should make prevention against child abuse as much an active job of the kids themselves as adults.

9:56pm: Where the Wild Things Are
Is it true that reality will never live up to the fantasies we create? That boy never quite lives up to how great he seemed at first. The "big" day arrives and passes, some excitement yes, but rather anticlimactic. Scrapbooks pretend like it was the best time you ever had but really what you pictured was much more fantastical. Santa isn't real, neither is heaven. Why do we set ourselves up for such failure.It seems rather self defeating. I have amazing moments in life, but I can always imagine them as better than they were, are, or will be.
I've been wondering lately about this "truth" proclaimed by my friend Kris and some age old addages What is neccessarily so bad about living a life linked more to fantasy than the paltry truths of reality. Isn't it more fun to act as if fantasies were truths. As if this day were the most exciting adventure of your life, instead of just another day going to work, making ends meet. Isn't fantasy a way to take an endless sea of faces and with your mind, bring one or two faces forward, paint them so they have bright cheeks and focus on them. It gives you something to attach your emotions to. It gives you an outlet in which you can feel the things, as a human, you want to feel. love, lust, anger, etc. Can't these all be thought of as the end result of some form of fantasy. For instance, jealousy. True a negative emotion, maybe not one you would typically fantasize about. And yet jealousy is mostly an expression resulting from an illusion. A made up set of scenarios.Isn't it more fun to act according to those fantasies. to live as if life were greater than it is. Maybe sufficient pretend will nudge reality closer to the fantasy.
On the other hand perhaps that is entirely wrong. Perhaps fantasy is just a safe way to express what we don't normally because we've retarded our ability to express pure emotion through the mundane tasks and social constraints of modern society. Is it really necessary to go through all of the complicated rituals. Work, school,bars,watching TV, going on dates. Really except for eating,basic exercise and learning these are just fillers. Empty filler that take up time. What if all that were forgotten and people just spent their time actually living. Talking, crying, dancing, laughing, brainstorming. I think that science is a pretty pure form of expression. I think in my scenario science could still exist. But not Washington DC. Not this empty place. All I see here is all of these people spending hours and hours and hours playing this highly ritualized game. They make connections, follow rules, make rules, all in hopes to move their piece one place farther towards the winner's circle. maybe this is why they,I, rely on fantasy. it is the only way our minds can perform the function it was intended for. Expression. Interaction. Not in the format of a farcical relationship but an honest blunt connection. It, the fantastical, seeps through the blockade created by the false worries and false actions. Yet, it seems that these fantasies have been in some way morphed to reflect not true desires but altered ones.We imagine worst case scenarions, rape, murder, etc. or explicite sexual fantasies, when really all we want is to feel an unadulterated form of expression. Perhaps fantasy is the end result of the damage created when true desires have to travel through the filter of false complexities.
Then again, evolutionarily speaking, it makes sense that our brain evolved in order to,not only create true connections and be social, but also to be manipulative. It was designed as a result of environmental pressures that fovored an ability to use social connections for a personal advantage. Maybe the game playing is as natural, or more natural, than expressing pure emotions.So perhaps fantasy is just a by product of the abstract mind. Reality is confined by particles and time while imagination is not. Therefore imagination will always be more potenet than reality.Hmmmm. I'm undecided.

It's hard for me to write without picturing some kind of audience. I swear half the time it's not me writing but some character version of me I've created. I go through all the thoughts in my head sift through them and then pick out the one's I think will sound the best to this faceless nameless audience.Ha I guess I'll be an awesome lawyer.
It's not what I want though. I want to write the truth. Not truth in an encompassing, deep justice, way but just my own personal truths. Expressed to reflect their significance to me.
Even writing this I am thinking "no that's not true you know how you feel, you have a very stringent set of standards by which you choose and evaluate your actions" That thought is the truth. yet it's also true that when I read things I've written,or thought about things I've said ,there is a lack of veracity.

I turn 21 so very soon. I'm so excited. How great to be able to go into a bar and with no fear order a god damn beer. People sometimes express their anxiety about getting older. While I too love thinking about when I was a kid and sometimes yearn for those times, I love getting older. I love building my life experience day by day. As cliched as it is, I learn something new everyday. I think back on what I used to know, and how I used to think and whew! I didn't even know how to orgasm for christ's sake. My ability to use my mind and use my judgement is so strong compared to even a year ago.I am soon going to use that tenured existence to: drink. Ahh it's going to be such a party. yay

Last thought, I think that people have the profession of acting all wrong. Or perhaps not acting but what makes someone a good actor. It is NOT being in good movies. That is not acting. That is good directing, script writing, cinematography, and sound. I think that equating good acting with a good movie devalues the art of acting. Acting is impression. Impression and imagination. Truly noteworthy acting is an impression of someone who does not exist. An imaginary person. Good acting is not just reading a script believably. It's being someone who you are not. It is molding each part of yourself to become this character.Beyond voice inflection. For example, Julia Roberts-- beautiful woman, in some cute movies, but not a good actress. Her character is never different. It's simply different facets of the same character. I think Edward Norton is a good actor. The man in American History X is a different man than Keeping the Faith or Fight Club. Tom Cruise- the same in EVERYTHING. Just a bit of a rant. I think that acting as a craft has this stigma that is a nose in the air thing. But really it is a talent, a skill that can be practised and honed.Like playing the trumpet, or being a puppetteer. Acting is definitely devalued and misunderstood when the excitement of a performance is placed above it's actual merit, ex. Queen Latifah was nominated for an Oscar.

"So maybe I need fantasy, life of chasing butterflies" Weezer

7:32am: Fresh Ink
I've given myself a couple of little writing assignments for myself. It has been quite awhile since I thought of myself as a candidate for creative writing. However, the more I think about it the more I realize that my greatest writing block of sorts is my own insecuriity. My own worrying that what ever I write it's not good enough or I could never complete a story satisfactorily. It's come to my attention, only moments ago, that really it doesn't matter a whole lot if what I write is shit or amazing. First of all it is highly unlikely anyone but myself will ever read any creative efforts, and second the reason I want to write, long to at times, is not because I want some measure of success with it but because it seems a way to enjoy my own literacy. To experiment with my thoughts, flush them out, refine them. My relationship with reading is unlike any other I have. I will give up things in my right mind I should not in favor of finishing a book. I think that to expand that enjoyment to the creation of my own literature is well worth my effort, if only to endulge myself. So, my self administered assignments begin.

"What a power there was in words; later for those who heard them, but first for the one who found them ; a healing power, a solution, like the breaking of a barrier. He though perhaps the first fount of life, is that which happens when a thought takes shape in words"- The Fountainhead--Wyand

3:18am: When were playrounds invented? They seem like such a natural part of childhood that I never really thought about when they came to be. I predict sometime in the forties or fifties when the concept of "childooh" came to be and recreational activities were encouraged by youths.
More than when they came to be, I wonder, how did grown ups get it so wrong. Modern playgrounds try so hard to tap into kids minds and be exciting that they completely miss the target. I've seen oodles of high tech, colorful, purposefully intricate playgrounds fail. Kids opt for the a game of hide and go seek. I think this reveals a general problem about the gap between kids and adults. Adults forget that kids will use their imaginations to make playing more exciting than any contraption an adult thinks up. A simple single bar will be so much fun and a colorful plastic life size tic tac toe board will become boring fast. People assume that because an adult brain is older it is better. I don't think this is so. An older brain is more sophisticated and more ept at handling adult scenarios But a kid's brain, because it lacks that sophistication, is more guillible to the intrigues of the imagination. It has a higher ability to suspend reality. Little set up playstations for kids, invented by adults, really limit the possibilities of fun rather than bolster them. I think kids will have more fun with simple toys/ playgrounds. It is BECAUSE they are so simple that things are able to turn into grand exciting adventures to a kid. Defined boundaries in toys stunt the imagination process.

I wonder what it would sound like if you used calculus equations to make a song. Using the symbols of mathematics interchangeably with notes. I feel like this has probably been done but I would be interested to see the process. Does every song have a mathematical equation. Do certain things have to add up for a melody to exist. I am not very knowledgeable about music, but just as a novice listener, most music sounds very mathematical to me, not just in the sense that there are a certain number of beats per seconde or patterns of beat numers, but higher mathematical concepts as well, permutations. If they exist I wonder what the equations would look like. If it all is mathematical then it holds to reason that someone could create endless amounts of new songs just by number plugging and matching to notes.That would be a fun computer program.

Yay for Cal State Fullerton. Not only did you kick butt, you recruited a baseball fan at the same time. Suzuki you caught this girl's attention.

3:49pm: Ode to little brother
As we are stopped at Jeronimo and Marguerite, squelchering in my little un-airconditioned Honda, Joseph notes the shattered mound of mysterious substance in the center of the opposite direction lane.
"It looks like a brick", says Joseph.
"Yea", I agree, somewhat disinterested.
"I wonder how it got there", little brother inquires.
I say I don't know, thinking in my head maybe it's just general debris from a past wreck or something.
My passenger hypothesizes,
"It looks like someone dropped a brick out there window. But no, look. The way that the brick stuff is on the ground it had to have been broken form the other direction. It had to have been broken with some force to to shatter like that."
A pause as Joseph thinks about it and I fiddle with the radio station.
He continues
"Somebody, probably a worker truck, must of lost it when they made too sharp a turn around the corner". "See" Joseph points, "that's how it would create the main mound of material facing that direction".
The lights green so we inch on towards home.

When did my little brother get so amazing? Seriously. This kid has had a shit load to deal with these last couple years. Not your run of the mill, my parents are getting divorced and kids make fun of me at school type stuff. Joseph has had to handle a much more unique and cumbersome situation in which his own interests/health proably were placed back burner. Yet,even given the difficult home situations and the fact that he is an adolescent boy, he maintains such a dignified, reasonable approach to life. He still thinks farts are hillarious but he also wants to make a doghouse outside for Honey so she doesn't have to get uncomfortable when no one is home and it starts to rain. I am concistently impressed with the quality of his observations and interests. No one is bolstering his ego and yet he continues to just be confident and be himself. I sound like one of those scholarship essays but I really have, in this past year, learned a lot from Joseph. Gold star, 100 percent

1:11pm: About a boy
I haven't met a guy like this one in a long time...ever? I'm not sure quite what to make of it. The meager beginnings of our relations were silly at best. Mildly embarassing at worst. Now, the more time I spend with him the more enamored I get. Enamored is the wrong word. I just like him more and leave wanting to extend. I genuinely like him. Top 90th percentile. I stayed up until two am for this boy....and I haven't thought bad thoughts about it. Let's admit it, the timing is far far far from perfect. The thing is, I don't think proximity is all that key. It's not his physical prescence that I like.I'm not sure what to make of it.

The lights have gone out. By candlelight is a strange way to exist. Not wholly unpleasant, although certainly inconvienent.Body parts look sexier by candlelight. They also can look scarier. I miss my microwave.

Sometimes I like just thinking. Just sitting down and whinnie the pooh style think think think thinking. Thinking things left and right. Thinking s l o w l y. In US culture there is too much emphasis/ regard on the ability to think fast. SAT, LSAT's, timed exams,class discussions--the grades all rest on the premise that the ability to analyze is important, but given two people have the same ability the person who can execute it quicker is smarter. I think this is erronoues and dangerous to the training of our minds. In a test or other pressured scenarios you have to formulate an idea within a very short time frame. I have never been in a class where there were comfortable "thinking time" pauses in which students could carefully consider a question/ idea ( perhaps this contributes to the plethora of poorly executed comments). As a result we do not get practice thinking. Just starting with a thought and feeling in around, placing it in different spots, making it funny. If an idea has spent sometime in the chasm of your mind it has probably left a sturdier impression. The quick thought is more likely to be a fleeting thought. Who ultimately is more apt? The meticulous thinker.

I heard this semi-argument taking place outside my window the other night.It went something like this
Boy #1 "Ben, come awwwn man, jus talk to meh for a secound. I really, I jus I jus don't knaw was goin on. Please."

Boy #2 "Look man, nows not a good time, I'm drunk. we'll talk later, i just, it's not a good time"

#1 "Pleas, comeawn man, you just, no one else...I don't even know was goin on, just talk to me for a secin"

#2 "Seriously man, I'm drunk right now which is not such a good time to be talkin bout this okay. we'll talk some other time"

#1 "really not even for a secon, i really need to talk to someone and yur the only one who can talk to me right now, just a minute"

#2"Look, I'm pretty heated about it okay, so I'm just gonna walk away and we'll talk about it later. allright, now is not be good for anyone. Bye"

Dang. Boy #2 is amazing. It is so rare that I hear such reasonable discussion when people have been drinking. that is such a valid point. When you've been drinking it's not a good idea to try to work things out. However, most of the time only a sober mind recognizes that reality.I give kudos to the level headed drunk outside my window. A boy too!--I wonder what happened?

Baby when the lights go out, every single words cannot express..... my level of distress...

I'm in the dark here

and then he said...let there be light....go ahead...let there!

7:30pm: Costs and benefits
I was frustrated yestarday with my friend. I mentally came to the conclusion that the problem was simply that she's too selfish. Being selfish is equal to being a bad friend. I thought about this and realized I was very wrong. Yes, she was selfish, but that was not what was wrong. What was wrong was that she did not realize, I did not realize, I too am seflish.This made me realize that friendship is not based on giving. It's not based on being kind and altruistic. A good friendship is based on maintaining a balanced amount of costs and benefits.
I was incuring a cost on my self by being a good friend ( devoting time and energy I could have placed elsewhere) Those costs were not matched with benefits. My own selfish desires were not met.A friendship with a giving person would not be sustainable as they would coome to realize their own selfish desires and be dissatisfied by the realtionship. I want really selfish friends because the more they get out of me the more I get out of them. Imagine if I went to great lengths to please my friends. If I drove them places, baked them cookies, rubbed their backs, listened to their endless stories, etc. It would be awesome because I would have someone to do that for me.The problem is unreciprocated selfishness. Reciprocal altruism is essential in a friendship. Start with efficient reciprocity and then the more selfish the more demanding the better the relationship will be.

I decided I care about a couple of things that are worth my time/ volunteer effort. One- gun control. While I certainly have no desire to keep people from owning guns I think reasonable measures, such as child locks and background checks, that are supressed in Congress becasue of the power of the NRA, need extra support. Two- legalizing marijuana.I'm not a personal fan of the drug but I do think it should be legal. It is hypocritical to me that women can abort children based on the assumed right to privacy but that right does not apply to certain drugs. The state should not be able to control that personal choice. This is especially true of marijuana where people are not likely to inflict danger on others because of the drug. When was last time you saw a beligerent stoner? Drug use should be controlled like other social choices like premarital sex.

Today is cinco de mayo, time for margaritas, ayi!ayi!.

12:48am: merely a vessel
I wonder sometimes if there's ever going to be a time in my life where I, and girls in general really, am not judged primarily on the way I look. God gamnit. I don't care why should anyone else. Yet, if I ignore it, if I don't adhere to the general societal norms that indicate what is attractive, it means I am inadvertenly hindering my own successfull functioning in the social world.
It makes me want to throw up when people congratulate someone for loosing weight. Like " good for you you've finally gotten control of yourself" Bullshit. I'm sick of people with eating disorders. For gods sake, you are KILLING yourself for what? So your bones shine through oh so sexily for men who don't know what they want.It's such a tired subject. Its not even that I think its nice for a girl to have a little somethin to hold on to. I don't think being thin is bad, I just don't think it fuckin matters. A fat, thin, wide, long, curvy, or flatbody can be a potent sex tool when used properly. Why don't we focus on skill or something.

The other day I was buying Christmas presents at the calender store in the mall and I had the strangest urge. I really really wanted to hug the guy behind the counter. I felt my body magneticallly moving towards the vastness of his pale epidermis. I resisted the urge and remained planted in my rightful customer position. Stupid! I definitley should have gone for the hug. Next time man next time.

I really want, at LEAST once in my life, to be walking down the street or roaming some random location and to, quite unexpectedley, make eye contact with someone from afar. As we walk towards eachother a mutual understanding is reached and upon uniting we, well, make out. Maybe not even make out but definitley some parted lip kissing.Then we leave, much as we came, off on divergent vectors. HOT!

I really think that Ayn Rand is the greatest romance novelist I have ever read.

New Car New Car, my financial adventure has begun. And she was called.... Temecula

7:08pm: I find it really interesting that Rastas are against Homosexuality.Jamaica and the West Indies in general has a very stringent reputation for being homophbic. How detrimental to the Rasta mantra of one love.I can't imagine Bob Marley wanting to "kill that batti boy" as many do here.The emotional fervor sexual orientation solicits in so many people is really strange to me.I find sex rather analagous to eating good food.Pleasurable, desirable, not always satisfying. I meet people's choice of sexuality with as much apathy as their eating habits.It really bothers me when there are glaring contradictions in a set of beliefs that are apparently staightforward and all encompassing. If this is a guide of how one is going to live one's life the how can part of it run contrary to another.

As I begin to usher in my twentieth year of life I enjoy a truly teenage moment....alcohol poisoning. In an entirely Bajan fashion the ambulance responded with an answering machine. Classic.It was an experience I could have done without but, as with many other things, at least its over. I was laughing whilst ridding my body of poison. Silly me, it wasn't funny but I guess I didn't quite register that. Allusive moderation, when will you return.

Anything but clothes party on Friday!!!I'm in between ideas. Strung pop-corn is up there with post cards and mirrors. I can't express how much I love a good theme party. This Halloween we went dressed as the holidays. I was Valentines Day. We nearly won the costume contest at a local club, and certainly should have seeing as The Fourth and Easter MADE OUT (both girls) on stage to the excietment of the boisterous crowd. However, much to our dismay the big styrofoam cell phone guys won. I fear this was due in part to the female judges running the show. The cell phone boys offered to share the prize wih us so we're all goig on a bus tour soon. We thought we were going to win cash so it didn't end up being that big of an upset afterall.

UCSB only offers one History class on Africa. ONE! I think there is so much to learn from the African experience especially because so much of the contemporary action. The leaders that have come to revolutionize many of these nations are still alive.The varying political schemes instituted to repair and mould the countries are so interesting. It is sad that they have been ingnored by the scholarship of my home university. And yet almost every student has taken The History of Western Civilization, a class which attmepts to cover over a thousand years of history in a single quarter.Useless.

Another complaint. I am PAYING to go to UCSB,yet I am blocked from taking the MAJORITY of classes offered at school because they are not within my major, or I have not taken the right lower devision classes. I feel as a CUSTOMER of the university I should be able to take any class I want. If I fail because I don't have the necessary background it is my transcript that will suffer. The TA's are paid to be there. If they can't handle grading some papers they should be fired.Even just being able to discuss the materials assigned in some courses would satisfy me but no, some aren't even open to be audited. I'm thirsty,parched, for knowledge and UCSB is a desert.

Over the last couple weeks I've had my first ever re-occuring dream. I'm in a grocery store and I'm staring at these grapes. I can't seem to tear my gaze away. It's as if there is something in thesee grapes. Something that I should understand by looking them. The ambiance in the dream is really fantastical. As if hidden just beneath this vastness of purple is a portal to another world. Yet I just stand and stare and stare and then I wake up. Usually craving fruit.

Off to see Kill Bill

4:42pm: Men and Masculinity in the Caribbean
On several occasions while being here I have had the thought ponce on me, and I say pounce because it indeed feels accidental and not a rung in a ladder of thoughts, that I would feel so much differently about race if I were black. Or any minority for that matter. Perhaps my upbringing or perhaps my own ambiguous ethnic identity have until now kept issues of race at bay. Now they seem rather impossible to ignore. I am conflicted.How can I ignore the fact that many people are very aware of their position as oppressed. Or the history their people have of being oppressed. In the past I've found these sentiments easy to dismiss based on the belief that voicing such feelings merely intesifies racism: not recognizing a difference is the only way to fight it. But it is different when people express their frustrations on a personal level. Their intimate experiences and impressions and struggles with self identity are quite real. I feel uneqipped to understand the position of someone who feels like an outsider in a world of white people.

the education system here is absolutely ridiculous. I am sad to say that I learn close to nothing at lecture. The professors are long winded and unfocused.For example my teacher for The Society and Economy of the British Caribbean thinks it's wise to make thirty or so copies of the cover page and contents page of several books, pass them out and outline in detail what each chapter will entail should we choose to read the book. This takes up nearly half of our class time. It's a two hour class. The duration of the lecture is composed of students making presentations on the topic of the week. This has the potential to be useful but apparently creative presentation isn't the norm here and the students just sit at the front of the class and read off a sheet of paper for their alloted twenty minutes. Needless to say I can read a contents page of a book on my own thank you very much and I'd be oblidged if this institution did not waste my time every week. Wasting time makes me feel at best uncomfortable and at worst like I'm having an anxiety attack.This is dissapointing especially because the topics we discuss are really quite interesting such as the apprenticship system in the British Colonies.

Graham's birthday was so fun! The best part was probably getting ready for it. That's not true the actual event was a blast as well. We made him customized sandals equippped with play on words such as "Walk and Roll" and "You're 21, what a feat!" written in festive pens on the soles.We put sand from the beach across the street in an empty old bottle of Barbados rum. Then we put in a secret message scrolled on white paper from each of us girls, which he'll only be able to read if he brakes the bottle. On one of them Merritt, in jest, confesses her burning desire for him. This is made ironic by the fact they did some kissing later that evening. We all dressed up in different themes, acting upon a request made by Graham. I was in all polka dots, Merritt was a vamped secretary,Becky was a farmer, Lindsay and angel, Leslie a flower complete with my funny beach hat, and Monica was a hippie. It was neat being the life of the party. The flavor of the room turned from mild to spicy when we got there.True true we did some foolish things that might of included flashing and lap dances but I wouldn't dare to be embarassed for it.The next morning I had not only a hangover but also a new found liking to Graham because I like people who DO and not just talk.

Good News, I'm engaged. Merritt are having a double wedding. Hopefully a triple if Dana pulls it together. Justin and I are going to be so awesome as a married couple. It's set for not this summer but the next.Janelle Scoggins. Dreamy.

"Lord you make your people see hard things, you make us to drink the wine of astonishment."-Earl Lovelace

6:53pm: Here in the lovely land of Barbados it is a common occurence to have a man jump out of the bushes and masterbate to you. This usually occurs at the beach. (who really can blame him with all the beautiful young white lasses). Now the funny thing about this occurence is the general lack of malice in which it is performed. Meaning the men almost always have a smile on their face and perform their acts at a luxurious pace. Relaxed except for a certain part. An interesting social quirk I'd say. Adds a little to the landscape.

One of my roomates is currently guiding us through deep throating. It's all about relaxing your throat muscles.And it makes me think about 45 degree angles in a whole new way.

On a more somber note Mrs. Pfaff has retired. That means that my two favorite high school teachers, her and Mr.Tyler, are no longer in the academic realm. A loss for all really. This brings me to my next thought which is a Mr.Tyler's class reunion. Wouldn't it be amazing if we could get Greg Reed to show. I think Yes. We could hang out and remember the laughter, the tears, the perversion, the incoherence. Beautiful.Have I told you that I wrote a paper in my film class about Fast CHeap and Out of Control. Yes,yes recieved an A. THanks Mr.T!
I am currently learning how to surf and sail. Both are mediocre. Or rather my performance is mediocre. However, in tennis which I am also learning, I am glad to say I am excelling. By excelling I mean I have gotten more than one positive interjection from my coach person. "Good Job Janelle", "Yes, nice swing!". That's what they sounded like. Nice .

I have made friends with many RASTA. Hahaha very fun.Have you ever seen the Secret of Nimh? Have you ever seen the Secret of Nimh ON WEED. Just a little shout out to Jon Stewart Half Baked style.I'm going to Bongo Lights tonight which is a Reggae club. Should be fantastic. We have art nights where we all sit around and draw. The "theme" of choice a few nights ago--sexual positions. Some great pieces were produced. Then we put up all of our art and have our EAP friends come and view it. Haha it's amazing.Our next project is to chalk all the walls. Many more arts and crafts to come I'm sure.

6:30pm: a moment inbetween classes
Tonight we form a secret ballot to decide on what our house shall be named. This name will be solidifed in large pink writing and be hung where everyone can see a top our porch. It seems that two names are in the lead.. "Big Mammas ha ha Cabana", and "Endless Summer Retreat". Also still in the running are "Sunset breast" and "Just Play Chalet".

I am so sick of everyone making such a big deal about gender. The women of yesteryear fought hard to give the ladies opportunity. Now I believe that it is the time to shut up and take those opportunities. At this point, in America at least, the law is on women's side. If there is some obvious discrimination fight it and get over it. Who cares whether it's nature or nurture.Who cares that boys are given blue and girls pink. My goodness if the socializing forces in place today where absent it is not as if gender lines would not exist. Only a different set of social norms. I for one like the perhaps stereotypical aspects of femininity. Nothing can change the fact that women and men are different. Their hormones are different, their bodies are different. Those differences are manifested into different norms associated with each sex. Sure fight oppression. Show through deliberate action and competition that women are not less intelligent or unworthy of respect. It is not the fight but the complaining associated with so much of Women's Stuides that makes me what to throw up.Jesus quit being such girls.

I never expected to make new girlfriends while in Barbados. Imagine my pleasant surprise. Stoners they may be but also wonderful and amazing. Who else would come up with such a great great prank. Shannon you have no idea whats coming. Muahhahamuahaha

5:14pm: One of my favorite things about being here is the bus rides. They pack everyone in tightly so your clinging to your dreadlocked neighbor, all the while bumping to reggae and rap tunes so loud they reverberate through your thin layer of clothing. It's amazing.

Also noteable about this lovely Island is the lack of teen angst. I guess I was so used to seeing people with punk outfits and somber attitudes that the freshness of assertive lustered behavior is especially nice.

I am so happy. I thought I was before in California, but no, nothing compared to how I feel everyday here. It's strange but I feel like I have less to say when I'm happy. Actually that's not true. I have as many sentiments to note but it seems that recording all of these wonderful things simply wouldn't do them justice. I want to be able to transport all of these little images I have into a box which I can take home with me and open any time I feel like it. Such as the feeling of a nice ten minute rain shower in the middle of a hot day, or my new dog laying in my bed with me as the fan cools us off. Swimming pool adventures with the cricket team from Britian. Friendly nieghbors, spectacular sunsets, a house all our own.

I might get sick of it but as of right now, doing laundry and then hanging it in your yard to dry in the wind is very cute and fun.It makes me feel tropical.

"I love the accents here, especially since I never have to know what the guys are actually saying"-Monica

11:20pm: twenty five hours
I walkout to one of Nicole's tables and sitting there in position three is Jake Talk. While I suppose I am a mere phantom from his youth, i immediatley recall the school girl crush I had on him. Moments of day dreamed kisses. Meaningful, albeit unreciprocated, eye contact.I remeber speciffically one night, Jen Strange's 15th birthday party, when we danced together. Not arms length even but tight together. His height was a rush even then. It's funny how I don't remember the end of that night. Or if there was ever any talk of us seeing eachother again. I do however remember the feeling I went home with. I was so fresh, so gratified, so.. right.The same way I would of felt if someone had handed me a snickers bar at the moment when I was craving it.
Flooded by these memories I falter slightly at the table.Belatedly handing him his tiki tenders I recognize that same stirring feeling of attraction from middle school me. Physically my preferences for what is attractive have changed. To be honest I don't really notice looks that much any more as much as how a person carries themself.
The thing that reinstates me reaction to him is that he looks exactly as I would have imagined. There is something so simple and sexy about an unchanged person. Someone developed enough at an early age to gain only consistency later in life.
Josh always had a great prescence.He seemed to live for the ocean but never made a big deal about it. As if he had some silent reverence for the waves. He had a great lop sided grin, never used in excess only in sincerity.Now he has grown taller and tanner but this quality of light and steadiness remains.He reconginzes me and asks how I am.
He remembers me.
I am surprised.
Walking away I focus primarily on my shoes. You see I am blushing. At my self really, because: my goodness what a moment of reaction just passed over me. I finish my sidework closeout and clock out. Did I continue to entertain thoughts of skinny goofy me and tall lean josh aged 12? Yes, as often happens when unexpectedly unearthing a charming aspect of our past.The walk out to my car is pleasant because of the temperate air and soft scented breeze. I've lost my keys and it take a few mintues to search and search, when I look up I notice that Josh is parked right next to me. I know this becasue he's standing next to the drivers side door preparing for entrance.This places me right next to him seeing as entering my car is a crawling adventure.(read-absentee door handle).COnversation ensues. Admittedly, awkwardsness existed. however more noteable is the lack of small talk. It's a comfortable discussion of cars and surfing. He didn't ask what I had been up to or how school was. It seemed assumed that all basic aspects of life were in place and it was natural only to discuss specifics. At some point I made a joke. Nothing fancy, just a story of my own failed surfing attempt. Rewarded by the lopsided grin I was pleased and comfortable.
Then he kissed me.
It was good.
A goldilocks medium in many respects: length, pressure, lip to tounge ratio. In other respects splendid. It was natural and decisive.
He cupped my face with his hand.
How strange. A parking lot kiss so very out of context.Context often rules such situations. The propriety of kisses. I could write a book. But from him it seemed so simple.Again so ..right. Just an extension of a desire. Like a period at the end of a sentence, the completion of a thought.Obvious to both of us was that the moment-episode-event that had come to surround our reunion was complete,so we left. Parting with clear smiles not waves. So came to pass the strangest and most wonderful hour or so ever to have happened in Island's parking lot.

Es un dolor escondido abajo capas de piel. no es lo que usted piensa. Yo no lloro a causa de lo que ha ocurrido o lo que ha sido hecho a mí. Mas bien, mi dolor es un temor,un temor de nunca ser terminado , nunca teniendo suficiente. no no un discontento, pero el crecimiento constante. La ambición eterna. Siempre falto más de esta sola existencia. Es un dolor, e irónicamente es también mi alegría el más grande. Yo nunca miraré la vida y lo llama lánguido. En lugar yo lo donomino siempre incompleto.

Surviving Dad. A book by mom. Coming to bookshelves near you all too soon.

12:55pm: University of the Wet Undies
I find it imppossible to be unhappy,depressed.In the end, past the tiny things that annoy me, or the very big things that sicken me, there is this imperterbable fact: I am living. Not only that I am healthy and I live in a place where I have freedom. I have total autonomy. Amazing. To be able to entertain the greatest result of evolution,human consciousness.

I occasionally search on lj for people who have interesting things to say.This one journal by Rinku is wondeful. I have learned a lot from reading what this gentlemen has to say. A lot.I can always follow his lines of thinking which bolsters my own ego a bit in that I can at least get it. My awe comes in his ability to organize and CREATE these great arguments and ideas.Strange to me is that this person appears to have little life experience.I could be wrong but assuming he doesn't. There's only so much you can learn about life from reading.Right? I think it is impossible to, through even the most thorough explanation, explain sex to a virgin. I love reading I love learning. Some of my favorite hours are when I am immersed in an activity that is testing my brain. However those hours are so different than the ones when my thoughts are not analytical or critical but rather stagnant because my body is in motion, simply reacting. I guess the point is that where I am envious of people who are so obviously beyond my abilities intellectually, I am comforted by the thought that I have lived so much. Negative or positive my experiences have been most importantly enriching beyond a level that is on a written page or hypothetical musings.


To Leanna,Lia,and other nice girls and boys. Wonderfully written explanations as to why I am so turned off by you and react to your syrup the way I do:

"niceness, is a vice, it is something to be weeded out of yourself whenever it appears. be careful to distinguish it from politeness -- politeness and respect and kindness, when others deserve it, is a virtue, but niceness, even to those you admire, never is. i myself am not nice, but i'm surprised at how many people are -- they are nice to me, a niceness which annoys me to no end since it's so disgusting, and then expect to be praised for it. niceness is the final stand of altruism, or rather, it's the automatized habit on which altruism is based. this is not to say that 'having a chip on your shoulder' is any better, both that and being nice are not opposites, but similar in that your sense of worth is based on other people. nice people seek to maintain their sense of worth by doing what others ask, before they ask, in an anxious to please way; antagonistic people seek to maintain their sense of worth by putting others down, in an anxious to rule way, but both are similar in that they both presuppose a worldview of humans as existing only as masters and slaves, not as self-sufficients. the self-sufficient worldview's alternative to 'being nice' and 'being a jerk' is perhaps best called 'being ruthless'"

"Who would you rather talk to? Someone who's "nice", or someone who challenges you, disagrees with you, makes you think, and wakes you out of your stupor that has grown after a day, month, or lifetime of conversing with ten thousand nice people? Please. Give me one person who isn't fucking nice! Even if I dislike them, at least I've been given the opportunity to experience an emotion stronger than "oh, that's nice"." rinku friend

"I have felt for quite some time, that the best way to respond to whatever manner of people make you think of slitting your wrists (or what-have-you), is, after negotiating your way through the minimum amount of contact you can afford to have with them, to merely toss them aside as unworthy of either your concern or your outrage, and not to hand them the tacit victory of a tantrum, even a private one."rinku friend

I hate being called nice.This is because it presupposes that I am engaging in some giving act. I am not, you are mistaken.I am refilling the chip drawer and sweeping and taking back your dirty dishes not to placate you. Not to be nice but because I take pride in my work.It is my job.I dislike myself most when I feel like I'm just being nice. I feel this way around Jessica a lot. I tend to her feelings, make sure I'm giving her in response what she's looking for. How distasteful. I'm glad other people are also not impressed by niceness.

New York Barbados New York Barbados New York Barbados New York Barbados New York Barbados

6:35pm: making out
I wonder what people are really like.Such a small percentage of people clearly present themselves how they ultimately desire. This would require two things. One being that said person has a clear CONSISTENT set of beliefs and ideas. And two said person consistently acts according to these ideals.My inquiry is not a metaphysical one. This is not "know thyself".Simply in a pragmatic way I wonder what the people i know would look like scraped of all the confusion and insecurities and misrepresentations. The impetus behind this inquiry is mildly self indulgent. What do people think of me? or more specifically, if I met myself what would i think. what would i see. Because the truth is we can never separate ourselves from our mortal,singular consciousness. Trapped inside our bodies we understand a permanently skewed view. So along those lines, I wonder how often I underestimate people. Perhaps what is presented to me and others as "meagan" or "Thomas" is actually only a reflection of half of what could be. We recieve the language and gesticulation part of a being that consists not only of that but also dreams(literally),inner reflections, unexpressed fears, unconscious desires, untapped potential.

I think one of the most interesting aspects of music is the way lyrics compare to the rest of a song. SOmetimes the forms fit like in bump and grind rap. Yet, often more intriguingly and effective is when the lyrics and tempo/form of the music clash. THe result is often ironic sometimes poignant and often overlooked. On a side note I feel like a lot of clasical music attains this kind of juxtaposition of sentiment without lyrics.The layers are often opposite, one with a light melody the other layer deep and thick. If I had acess to a more complete musical vocabulary I'd be be able to explain better.My point is one of the great things about music is not only that it is a way to evoke in people what is not able to be done by other means such as words but that dual meanings can be expressed within that mode, exponentially raising it's value.

Making out is like ice cream: endless,continually changing flavors, some make you go hmmm interesting i never thought THAT would be good, it is sometimes exactly what I need at the end of the day,i am always in the moods for it, and most of the time it still isn't as good as a good book.

Secrets are bullshit.Not Suzy thinks you're a skank secrets but "the big stuff" secrets. Secrecy really. I'm not going to hinder my children my friends anyone I care about from my reality. I hate it. I hate the idea of keeping knowledge at bay for some sake that isn't actually important.The truth may not set you free or whatever but it feels lighter, better, more healthy.

Time for a vacation.---Hi, yea, that's j-a-c-q-u-e-l-i-n-e. Taurus. Oh I know the picture doesn't look like me I get that all the time. Yep, just this April. Yeah I love being twenty one,I spend a lot more money though. Umm a gin and tonic please. Thanks

2:42am: maude moment
Are the feelings of lonliness and excitement really all that different. To me they mold togther in one singular form of waiting. I want to have a guy. The hugs the kisses the sex. The debate, the sharing the jokes. The comfort.I am lonely for these things. HOwever not lonely in a depressing sense, but lonely in a longing sense. I am excited to find that/those person, that/those relationship, that will fullfill my expectations of QUALITY for the aforementioned endevaors. Patience is the undertone of my waiting, therefore positively tinging the pathetic sounding term lonely.

He looks like a fresh breeze, he smiles like yes, of course he gets the joke,.He's seventeen. He looks like it took effort, he smiles like he's dissatisfied. He's 22.

I laughed today because jogging is ridiculous. People get all suited up with their shoes and music gear and hit the pavement. to run. that's it. no purpose. no destination . hillarious. I wrapped my mind around it for awhile and it just seems like such a silly thing to do. Like going breathing.

I dated Dax for more than a year. He didn't want to break up. He loved me too much and he wanted to give me anything. Right. How is it that when a person you love/loved tells you their family member is arrested for something they did TO YOU it evokes little to no interest. WHile not depndent upon him for any means of emotional or mental support, a peaked interest in my life might indicate what dax always so adamantly assured me of, namely his caring. I wanted to , perhaps for the first time, share an intimite detail of my life with him, and he wanted to speed past any conversation regarding the topic. This is said not in bitterness but mild dissapointment and tired acceptance. I wasted my time for nothing on that boy. He isn't even a good friend .It is frustrating to face the fact that someone loved you for what you are to them, not because of what you are.

I take each day and with it try to shed one single insecurity in the hope that soon enough i will be living without the hindrance of that which is merely a vessel.

someday i'll whisper to you in a single line all that i have ever meant to say.Expectantly i will await only to see your slumber.

to the therapists, for the record:I send the pain below, much like suffocating

i am happy in this moment....thinking of you mara

11:56am: Study break
Two things:
1. A line can be placed between people who do and do not think that Best in Show and Waiting for Guffman are funny. Over ninety percent of the time the people who stand on one side will be people I like and on the other people I don't like.When I meet new people I often try to bring the movies up. That way I don't have to waste my time if they fail to express a synonomous response to my own.

2. Depression is bullshit. I am fed up with over indulged college students resorting to meds to solve all of their "problems" which mainly consist of sexual rejection and boredom. If they are not happy they have complete control over changing life to suit them. Especially considering the monetary funds these people have!In so many ways depression is a rich man's disease.True, some have legitimate problems due to chemical imbalances, but most of these wishwashy characters don't know what they want and how to be satisfied.I can't think of a more disgusting statement than suicide. It pisses me off. Throwing away the one thing that has intrinsic importance, how ridiculous.

4:38pm: Fun
I have a new found respect for guys. It has become an impossible mission of mine to approach this gentleman in my Law and Society class in pursuit of his number. Gazing deeply into his baby blue eyes I falter and ask instead for clarification on the latest lecture topic.Normally, I don't form opinions about guys except an objective evaluation of looks. This is perhaps because in the day to day drudgery of class discussion most people don't seem to have much to offer beyond cliche obvious uninteresting sentiments. This boy, however, is different. He seems at once intelligent, reasonable and apathetic: my prince charming. Now if he would just quit talking to the curly headed beauty on his left I could entice him to hang out with me.But alas and alack my mission remains.

I was moved to tears the other night when watching a movie about lynching called Rosewood. This was unusual for a couple reasons. First the movie was not well acted. I feel no shame shedding tears for Sally Field but these minimally talented actors!? Also, I was not crying because of the overall cinematic effects of the filmmaker. I habitually am manipulated by moving soundtracks and tender lighting. Rather, in this instance I was crying simply because of the gravity of the situation depicted. Where is this new sensitivity coming from.

"Eight Negroes lynched, three for killing a white man, and five on the same old racket-the new alarm about raping women. The same programme of hanging, then shooting bullets into lifeless bodies was carried out to the letter. Nobody in this section believes the old threadbare lie that Negro men assault white women. If Southern white men are not careful, they will over-reach themselves and public sentiment will have a reaction; a conclusion will be reached which will be very damaging to the moral reputation of their women."--Ida B. Wells in Free Speech, 1892

5:30am: A trip
Is everyone aware that snowflakes actually are in the shape of the cut outs you can make from construction paper?how foolish I am, I had no idea!They are so beautiful and delicate. Amazing. This is one of the many discoveries I have made here in Ukraine.The women here are beautiful but they lack animation in their faces. Merritt and I stick out like sore thumbs, especially with our "overtly energetic"dancing as one Ukranian gentlemen described it.Although this formerly soviet nation has changed quickly and greatly Stalin's fingerprints remain on many of the aspects of daily life. Eye contact is very rare.Indeed it is a very lescivious suggestion to offer a smile at a passing older gentlemen.I'm glad I read We the Living before I came here.It gave me a little perspective.
The rich here are very elitist and take their wealth very seriously. The mafia run most things here. A lot of them live in the same building as the Gurley's as the Lexus's and BMW's attest to.
Have Merritt and I been invited to an orgy? Yes, yes we have.
Merritt's mother is a piece of work.She has this eccentric personality very hard to interact with.Her interactions with me are so strange. She thinks it's grand to call me her senorita and copy merritt's joke about my ethnicity. She will throw in little jokes about my prison bound mexican father and things of that kind. Now, when Merritt does this it's funny, but her mom is always just a little bit off. She'll take a step to far for the comfort of her audience or in contextually just well won't be funny. This kind of one step behind what is appropriate is a key aspect of her character. I don't think she actually has any steadfast opinions. She'll change them even within a single conversation. but she doesn't recognize this change of ideals, she will insist it is what she has always said.She's bipolar,she's an alcoholic and she's a perfomer. A ball of kinetic energy.SHe's one of those people who insults with her compliments. Like saying "merritt never gets grades like those!that's great for you honey!" Now i don't want to hear that. She'll give horrible advice with the assumption it's great. She won't have any of a different opinion.But she's often the life of the party and will go out of her way to make something a good time. The champagne flows as does the laughter.Interesting environment for a childhood.
Christmas eve was so neat. These three sisters came to the house and played 30+ string guitaresque instruments called banderas. It was so beautiful. They played Ukrainian songs and sang along. Very amazing. Then we all sat around and the little girls opened presents. Then we recited some poetry.This would usually be horrible for me. I don't tend to like hearing peotry recited. People's romanticy poetry voices usualy sick me out. however, this way very neat. We heard some Shel Siverstein which is a great childhood memory of mine.Rick did The face on the Ballroom floor, Barry this lovely southern gentlemen who is really amazing to me. Merritt describes him as "a tall cool glass of water" that is pretty much right on target. he has this deep evenly easy tempo voice coupled with a tall lean stance. I don't think they come like that any more.He ricited this poem about this man who doesn't care much about dying, all he wants is lots of women wailing at his funeral.This was my favorite because it sounded so amazing coming from him.Merritt did the cremation of Sam Mcgee,which was well done. I did The Raven. I really like this one but it was a bit much to recite, especially since I hadn't read it since about eight grade.All in all it was a great evening. It made me realize when I have family I want to spend a lot of time making neat traditions. They are very enriching.
Last night was pretty amazing. We got lost a couple of times but found a great time. We ended up at this club Al CApone's then we went to a sauna some boys rented out and drank Ukrainian red champagne and pineapple juice and hung out.We rolled in around 6am.
I want to learn Russian. I don't like being in a place where I don't know at least some of the native language. It's really neat sounding. I have decided that by the end of my life I want to know Spanish,Italian,Russian and Thai at least. It's something I think is really worth putting effort into.
My strange role as a guest will soon be over. It has been very different, being the recipient of such gifts. It's not something I'm used to. I don't like it.I would so much rather be the giver.Not at all in a selfless way, it's just difficult to be at the mercy of someone else's kindness. I want the control that comes with never having to ask for things.
I'm reading these two books, both of which are pretty darn great. One's called Germs,Guns and Steel. It's an evolutionary approach to the history of civilizations. Pretty neat.It's explained thoroughly and slowly which is kind of nice.I like it a lot.Also Papillon is a great read. It's the true story of a wrongly accused prison inmate and his advetures escaping.Very neat.
I think the biggest thing so far that I have learned from my limited traveling experience is that people are the same regardless of the region they live in. True their customs might differ, but their core belifs or at least the motives for thos beliefs have roots common with all people. The people you can not relate with aren't that way because of where they live but who they are.And I think the biggest barrier between people of different places is language. A barrier I intend to destroy.
London I hope you're ready for Maria and Julia.

"God Damn Janelle your boobs look huge!" Merritt's mother at a big family dinner

"Pop quiz" "go" "how many options do we got" "a few" "come on janelle how many options we got?" "**sigh** one" "beep, gold star 100 pecent, now get in the car with those boys and let's get this abuse on the way"...and off we were to a night of debachery.

"the night is but young"- me

" you are the hottest girls here, because you have the least on."-a Ukrainian pick up line. I think.


"If you're ever on an airplane that's crashing, see if you can't organize a quick thing of group sex, because come on, you squares."
"If you get invited to your first orgy, don't just show up nude. That's a common mistake. You have to let nudity "happen."
Deep thoughts by Jack Handey

4:08am: A trip
Is everyone aware that snowflakes actually are in the shape of the cut outs you can make from construction paper?how foolish I am, I had no idea!They are so beautiful and delicate. Amazing. This is one of the many discoveries I have made here in Ukraine.The women here are beautiful but they lack animation in their faces. Merritt and I stick out like sore thumbs, especially with our "overtly energetic"dancing as one Ukranian gentlemen described it.Although this formerly soviet nation has changed quickly and greatly Stalin's fingerprints remain on many of the aspects of daily life. Eye contact is very rare.Indeed it is a very lescivious suggestion to offer a smile at a passing older gentlemen.I'm glad I read We the Living before I came here.It gave me a little perspective.
The rich here are very elitist and take their wealth very seriously. The mafia run most things here. A lot of them live in the same building as the Gurley's as the Lexus's and BMW's attest to.
Have Merritt and I been invited to an orgy? Yes, yes we have.
Merritt's mother is a piece of work.She has this eccentric personality very hard to interact with.Her interactions with me are so strange. She thinks it's grand to call me her senorita and copy merritt's joke about my ethnicity. She will throw in little jokes about my prison bound mexican father and things of that kind. Now, when Merritt does this it's funny, but her mom is always just a little bit off. She'll take a step to far for the comfort of her audience or in contextually just well won't be funny. This kind of one step behind what is appropriate is a key aspect of her character. I don't think she actually has any steadfast opinions. She'll change them even within a single conversation. but she doesn't recognize this change of ideals, she will insist it is what she has always said.She's bipolar,she's an alcoholic and she's a perfomer. A ball of kinetic energy.SHe's one of those people who insults with her compliments. Like saying "merritt never gets grades like those!that's great for you honey!" Now i don't want to hear that. She'll give horrible advice with the assumption it's great. She won't have any of a different opinion.But she's often the life of the party and will go out of her way to make something a good time. The champagne flows as does the laughter.Interesting environment for a childhood.
Christmas eve was so neat. These three sisters came to the house and played 30+ string guitaresque instruments called banderas. It was so beautiful. They played Ukrainian songs and sang along. Very amazing. Then we all sat around and the little girls opened presents. Then we recited some poetry.This would usually be horrible for me. I don't tend to like hearing peotry recited. People's romanticy poetry voices usualy sick me out. however, this way very neat. We heard some Shel Siverstein which is a great childhood memory of mine.Rick did The face on the Ballroom floor, Barry this lovely southern gentlemen who is really amazing to me. Merritt describes him as "a tall cool glass of water" that is pretty much right on target. he has this deep evenly easy tempo voice coupled with a tall lean stance. I don't think they come like that any more.He ricited this poem about this man who doesn't care much about dying, all he wants is lots of women wailing at his funeral.This was my favorite because it sounded so amazing coming from him.Merritt did the cremation of Sam Mcgee,which was well done. I did The Raven. I really like this one but it was a bit much to recite, especially since I hadn't read it since about eight grade.All in all it was a great evening. It made me realize when I have family I want to spend a lot of time making neat traditions. They are very enriching.
Last night was pretty amazing. We got lost a couple of times but found a great time. We ended up at this club Al CApone's then we went to a sauna some boys rented out and drank Ukrainian red champagne and pineapple juice and hung out.We rolled in around 6am.
I want to learn Russian. I don't like being in a place where I don't know at least some of the native language. It's really neat sounding. I have decided that by the end of my life I want to know Spanish,Italian,Russian and Thai at least. It's something I think is really worth putting effort into.
My strange role as a guest will soon be over. It has been very different, being the recipient of such gifts. It's not something I'm used to. I don't like it.I would so much rather be the giver.Not at all in a selfless way, it's just difficult to be at the mercy of someone else's kindness. I want the control that comes with never having to ask for things.
I'm reading these two books, both of which are pretty darn great. One's called Germs,Guns and Steel. It's an evolutionary approach to the history of civilizations. Pretty neat.It's explained thoroughly and slowly which is kind of nice.I like it a lot.Also Papillon is a great read. It's the true story of a wrongly accused prison inmate and his advetures escaping.Very neat.
I think the biggest thing so far that I have learned from my limited traveling experience is that people are the same regardless of the region they live in. True their customs might differ, but their core belifs or at least the motives for thos beliefs have roots common with all people. The people you can not relate with aren't that way because of where they live but who they are.And I think the biggest barrier between people of different places is language. A barrier I intend to destroy.
London I hope you're ready for Maria and Julia.

"God Damn Janelle your boobs look huge!" Merritt's mother at a big family dinner

"Pop quiz" "go" "how many options do we got" "a few" "come on janelle how many options we got?" "**sigh** one" "beep, gold star 100 pecent, now get in the car with those boys and let's get this abuse on the way"...and off we were to a night of debachery.

"the night is but young"- me

" you are the hottest girls here, because you have the least on."-a Ukrainian pick up line. I think.


"If you're ever on an airplane that's crashing, see if you can't organize a quick thing of group sex, because come on, you squares."
"If you get invited to your first orgy, don't just show up nude. That's a common mistake. You have to let nudity "happen."
Deep thoughts by Jack Handey