li sasaki is my hero.

last night at the [re]collect art/music exhibit:
“can you play something slower? like hiphop?”
“you know, you’re clearing the dancefloor. maybe you should play some hiphop.”
“hey! can you play some hiphop?”

apparently breakbeat is not loved by all
and apparently people think i’m a jukebox and not a dj.

i was very discouraged,
but i’m glad my friends were there to give mad support and mad hugs.
you guys are the best.

the other performers and artists were impressive though.
one of my favorite pieces, by kevin nguyen

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but osby and i couldn’t figure this one out.

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we headed to an underground afterwards.

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shaking my no-ass to ghetto tech with the greatest friends until 4am.
what a great friggin’ night.

i really like this picture that vincent took.

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the rest of the pictures.

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oh, and graveley came along and was recognized as “the christmas tree guy
and vincent as, “oh dude, didn’t you and veanne go on some photo adventure?”

it must be sort of strange huh, to read about someone, see their pictures..
and then to finally meet them in real life?

i get along with little boys

because i too can pick my nose and eat it.

my relatives from vietnam are staying with my family for a few months until they get on their toes.

because their children are new to the country,
they have not yet adapted to certain customs and manners
such as knocking before entering closed doors and
for example..

i don’t know about you, but when i wake up in the morning,
the first thing i do, even before wiping out my eye crusties,
is liberate the bladder.

so anyway,
i wake up this one morning and
doot-dee-doo i’m going to the bathroom and i sit down and
“EEEWWWWW!!!!!!”

the boys had peed all over the toilet seat.

and i look to my side..

now, the plumbing/sewage system in vietnam is sort of.. primitive
so the people there do not flush toilet paper down the toilet.
instead, they dispose them in wastebaskets.

and so i look to my side and there in the wastebasket,
were little pieces of toilet paper with poopie stains on them.

the children are no longer allowed to use my bathroom.

my uncle, a short, somewhat obnoxious man who talks and acts like he knows more than he really does,
is attempting to teach the children how to speak english.
the other day i found him arguing that “idiot” meant someone who was lazy.
“um, no. idiot means someone who is stupid.”
“no, it means someone who is lazy.”
“um, no. don’t argue with the native speaker.”

i noticed that all words in vietnamese are one syllable words.
therefore, if you ever hear a vietnamese person speak english,
you’ll notice that they might have trouble pronouncing words with consonant sounds side by side
[ie, wench would be pronounced “weng”]

anyway, my uncle taught the children “eh-kew mee.” [excuse me]
and this frustrated me.
so i decided to dedicate an hour everyday to tutoring the children in english
(since esl is no longer a department in their elementary school due to budget cuts).

this evening, the boys and i hung out in the dining room with pencils in our mouths,
repeating sounds rhythmically,
“eh! kah! eh! kah! eh. kah. sss. kah. ew! sss. mee.”

at the end of the hour, i had accomplished something somewhat small.
nontheless, it was a nice feeling. :)

the little troublemakers.

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currently listening to:

a great track
to groove to while geeking out on the computer. [from movement in still life]

when dad returned

from his sabbatical a few months ago,
he quit his job and began selling antiques and electronics on ebay.
“i don’t have to fight traffic, i get to work on my own schedule,
i can take afternoon naps and i make a lot more money than i used to.”
i have never seen him happier.

mom left for europe on sunday so i will be taking care of him
for the next two weeks.

every day after his afternoon nap,
we take strolls through hellyer path.

on our path is this bridge
and underneath this bridge lives a coterie of vietnamese men.
as we pass them,
dad hollers, “how are you?!”
and one of them responds, “hi ong tai!”

i asked dad, “how you know them?”
dad explained to me that he talks to them every time
he passes by the bridge and that i shouldn’t be afraid.
“they’re me;
immigrants who came here looking for a better life..
except they just weren’t as lucky.”

friday afternoon,
chris and i took his son tyler to the park.
kids are difficult to photograph. they move so fast!

tyler j.

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apart for a week and we’re already missing each other,
so nat flew into town this weekend to see me.
i am whooped.