My job at the library circulation desk is pretty boring...but pretty funny. All I have to say is, watch out, people, cuz librarians talk SHIT. I was rifling through a pile of papers on the front desk today and found, hidden in plain sight, a list of stupid things people have asked the reference librarian. Talk about bitter....
Wednesday, September 24, 2003
Sunday, September 21, 2003
Each year, Project Censored lists the top 25 underreported news stories...
Click:
Project Censored - Home
I was especially surprised by #1. I never even new the PNAC existed before today. Very scary.
Click:
Project Censored - Home
I was especially surprised by #1. I never even new the PNAC existed before today. Very scary.
Monday, September 15, 2003
LOL
I just received this notice from the Southwest Center for Asian Pacific American Law regarding internships. I cut and pasted it...this is a direct quote:
Worker’s Rights (WR) Program
This WR Program will educate high students who are or will be wage earners about their rights in the work place...
I just received this notice from the Southwest Center for Asian Pacific American Law regarding internships. I cut and pasted it...this is a direct quote:
Worker’s Rights (WR) Program
This WR Program will educate high students who are or will be wage earners about their rights in the work place...
Thursday, September 04, 2003
Moore v. Regents of University of California
Supreme Court of California (1991)
This really sucks:
Moore goes to UCLA medical center to seek treatment for hairy-call leukemia, and the doctors tell him that he needs to have his spleen removed or he will die. Moore agrees, and they remove his spleen. What the doctors don't tell Moore is that his cells are unique and worth a LOT of money.
So, Moore undergoes seven years of follow-up procedures and testing, giving additional tissue samples, believing that all this is important to his treatment. UCLA ends up isolating a cell line from Moore's cells, patents the cell line, receives hundreds of thousands of dollars in funding. The cell line has a projected worth in the billions of dollars.
Of course Moore sues. The case goes all the way to the Supreme Court of California. And guess what? They ruled that Moore could not sue for conversion of property. He could not reap any benefits from the cell line that UCLA had profited from. But he could sue for breach of fiduciary duty...but that is hard to prove and it still doesn't mean he gets any of the profits.
Sometimes, the cases I study are so unfair.
Supreme Court of California (1991)
This really sucks:
Moore goes to UCLA medical center to seek treatment for hairy-call leukemia, and the doctors tell him that he needs to have his spleen removed or he will die. Moore agrees, and they remove his spleen. What the doctors don't tell Moore is that his cells are unique and worth a LOT of money.
So, Moore undergoes seven years of follow-up procedures and testing, giving additional tissue samples, believing that all this is important to his treatment. UCLA ends up isolating a cell line from Moore's cells, patents the cell line, receives hundreds of thousands of dollars in funding. The cell line has a projected worth in the billions of dollars.
Of course Moore sues. The case goes all the way to the Supreme Court of California. And guess what? They ruled that Moore could not sue for conversion of property. He could not reap any benefits from the cell line that UCLA had profited from. But he could sue for breach of fiduciary duty...but that is hard to prove and it still doesn't mean he gets any of the profits.
Sometimes, the cases I study are so unfair.
Guerilla Warfare
hey guys, go to www.onetermpresident.org and download fliers and stencils. i am planning on posting the fliers on campus. how about a synchronized campaign?
hey guys, go to www.onetermpresident.org and download fliers and stencils. i am planning on posting the fliers on campus. how about a synchronized campaign?
Sunday, August 31, 2003
Friday, August 29, 2003
One-L
Okay, first week is over. Already, I am a hundered times the nerd I was.
I am a catholic schoolgirl, i carry around 30 pounds of gear with me wherever i go (half laptop and accessories, half overburdening law books), i use my highlighter so often that i have it easily accessible and visible on the outside of my purse (one step away from pocket protector, see), i am getting paler and pastier by the second, and--this is the clincher--i work not just in the library, but the computer lab of the library.
yes, the joys of law school.
on a lighter note, these people seem to be alcoholics. all of the student events seem to involve unlimited free alcohol, and in one case, topless pudding wrestling. it's like college all over again, but with bigger books and more debt!
Okay, first week is over. Already, I am a hundered times the nerd I was.
I am a catholic schoolgirl, i carry around 30 pounds of gear with me wherever i go (half laptop and accessories, half overburdening law books), i use my highlighter so often that i have it easily accessible and visible on the outside of my purse (one step away from pocket protector, see), i am getting paler and pastier by the second, and--this is the clincher--i work not just in the library, but the computer lab of the library.
yes, the joys of law school.
on a lighter note, these people seem to be alcoholics. all of the student events seem to involve unlimited free alcohol, and in one case, topless pudding wrestling. it's like college all over again, but with bigger books and more debt!
Monday, August 25, 2003
The end of my first day of law school. What have I learned today?
1) I can walk from the door of my apartment to the door of my first class in ten minutes flat
2) My new monster of a laptop, impressively powerful as it is, is very, very heavy...perhaps prohibitively so.
3) Class is boring (big surprise here)
1) I can walk from the door of my apartment to the door of my first class in ten minutes flat
2) My new monster of a laptop, impressively powerful as it is, is very, very heavy...perhaps prohibitively so.
3) Class is boring (big surprise here)
Wednesday, August 06, 2003
FREE BURRITO!
(With the purchase of a large drink)....
Actually, it's a "Bare Burrito" so it has no tortilla, but it's still damn good. The drink is $2.14 and comes in a cool plastic sports cup. The burrito is delicious and if you pile enough pico de gallo on it, will last you two meals. AND this coupon lasts till September 22! Click on the link below and email yourself the coupon. I've been there 2 days in a row...yummy.
FREE BURRITO FROM BAJA FRESH
(With the purchase of a large drink)....
Actually, it's a "Bare Burrito" so it has no tortilla, but it's still damn good. The drink is $2.14 and comes in a cool plastic sports cup. The burrito is delicious and if you pile enough pico de gallo on it, will last you two meals. AND this coupon lasts till September 22! Click on the link below and email yourself the coupon. I've been there 2 days in a row...yummy.
FREE BURRITO FROM BAJA FRESH
Monday, August 04, 2003
Sleeptalking
The other day, I was trying to wake Tim up, and he cussed me out while still asleep, calling me "fucking piece of shit" and telling me to go into the closet and stay there.
I was left dumbfounded, staring open-mouthed and utterly incapable of exacting revenge, since he was, as previously mentioned, fast asleep.
I guess this is retribution for the times I've cussed people out in my sleep. Last year, I allegedly responded to a question asked me while I was asleep by snapping "What the fuck does it matter?"
When I was in Vegas (asleep) and Mat was talking in the morning, I told him to shut the fuck up, twice.
I think this is a very interesting phenomenon. Someone should do a study about the frequency and ease with which profanities are slung around when the person doing the slinging is asleep and threatened with the prospect of being woken up. I suppose at that halfway point between consciousness and slumber, the most primal part of us awakens and all socially instilled manners are thrown out the window, ergo the frequent use of the word "fuck."
Or maybe I'm just a fucking grouch in the morning.
The other day, I was trying to wake Tim up, and he cussed me out while still asleep, calling me "fucking piece of shit" and telling me to go into the closet and stay there.
I was left dumbfounded, staring open-mouthed and utterly incapable of exacting revenge, since he was, as previously mentioned, fast asleep.
I guess this is retribution for the times I've cussed people out in my sleep. Last year, I allegedly responded to a question asked me while I was asleep by snapping "What the fuck does it matter?"
When I was in Vegas (asleep) and Mat was talking in the morning, I told him to shut the fuck up, twice.
I think this is a very interesting phenomenon. Someone should do a study about the frequency and ease with which profanities are slung around when the person doing the slinging is asleep and threatened with the prospect of being woken up. I suppose at that halfway point between consciousness and slumber, the most primal part of us awakens and all socially instilled manners are thrown out the window, ergo the frequent use of the word "fuck."
Or maybe I'm just a fucking grouch in the morning.
Friday, July 18, 2003
Re-entry
"Re-entry" is a term describing the period of adjustment, often accompanied by depression, after one returns from a long vacation, when one tries to get a grip on returning to the "real" word. Re-entry sucks.
I have returned from my month-long european escapade #3, and am faced with....nothing.
I don't have a home, and all my stuff is in boxes stored in my parent's garage and in Tim's room. So now, I sit around all day while Tim is at work and slink from couch to room to bed, listlessly sifting through piles of men's magazines and listening to my stomach growl while watching the food network, thinking, "This is how housecats must feel."
Highlights of the day include: staring at the fishtank, feeding the turtles, cooking instant noodles, and picking the scab off of the behemoth of a cold sore that is currently dominating half of my lower lip.
Occasionally, I go outside to look at the raincouds that literally seem to hang over my head. It's been unbearably gloomy since I returned, as if the world wanted to remind me just how mundane real life can be.
I have been communicating via email with some future classmates of mine re: housing options, and it looks like I'll be meeting some of them soon to decide if I want to share apartments with them for the rest of the year.
On the brighter side, this next month will probably be one of the last times I get to truly relax for a long, long time, so i had better get used to, and start liking, doing nothing all day, because I am sure I'm going to miss this a month from now.
"Re-entry" is a term describing the period of adjustment, often accompanied by depression, after one returns from a long vacation, when one tries to get a grip on returning to the "real" word. Re-entry sucks.
I have returned from my month-long european escapade #3, and am faced with....nothing.
I don't have a home, and all my stuff is in boxes stored in my parent's garage and in Tim's room. So now, I sit around all day while Tim is at work and slink from couch to room to bed, listlessly sifting through piles of men's magazines and listening to my stomach growl while watching the food network, thinking, "This is how housecats must feel."
Highlights of the day include: staring at the fishtank, feeding the turtles, cooking instant noodles, and picking the scab off of the behemoth of a cold sore that is currently dominating half of my lower lip.
Occasionally, I go outside to look at the raincouds that literally seem to hang over my head. It's been unbearably gloomy since I returned, as if the world wanted to remind me just how mundane real life can be.
I have been communicating via email with some future classmates of mine re: housing options, and it looks like I'll be meeting some of them soon to decide if I want to share apartments with them for the rest of the year.
On the brighter side, this next month will probably be one of the last times I get to truly relax for a long, long time, so i had better get used to, and start liking, doing nothing all day, because I am sure I'm going to miss this a month from now.
Saturday, June 21, 2003
Greetings from Amsterdam...
my god, it's great to be home. i arrived yesterday after almost two days of missed flights and standby and airport bathrooms, but i made it! here i am, in the land of legal weed and bland food.
those who went to amsterdam with me in the past will be VERY surprised to hear that i tried the McKroket at Mc Donald's...and liked it! it kind of tastes like pulverized salisbury steak in a kroket with gravy and mayo.
i am going to take a bike tour and visit museums today. no, really, i am.
last night, we walked around the red light district and stared at the prostitutes in the windows...always eye-opening experience. i am staying at the globe again, in the same nasty, no-ventilation room i always end up in, but i am strangely fond of the place.
my god, it's great to be home. i arrived yesterday after almost two days of missed flights and standby and airport bathrooms, but i made it! here i am, in the land of legal weed and bland food.
those who went to amsterdam with me in the past will be VERY surprised to hear that i tried the McKroket at Mc Donald's...and liked it! it kind of tastes like pulverized salisbury steak in a kroket with gravy and mayo.
i am going to take a bike tour and visit museums today. no, really, i am.
last night, we walked around the red light district and stared at the prostitutes in the windows...always eye-opening experience. i am staying at the globe again, in the same nasty, no-ventilation room i always end up in, but i am strangely fond of the place.
Tuesday, June 17, 2003
Another Chapter Ended…
Today is my last day at work, and the end of my two years of confused wandering in the work world, and in about two months, the beginning of three years of law school. But it’s been a hell of a two years, and impressive on my resume even if a lot of it sounds much better than it really was. I learned a lot about what I like and dislike in a working environment—experience that is priceless, given how naïve I was when I graduated from college.
In the past two years, I have traveled to: Paris (twice), Amsterdam (twice), Lyon, Marseilles, Rome, Venice, Florence, Prague, Vienna, Siena, Barcelona, Riomaggiore, and Hawaii. I learned just as much travelling as I did working full time—something for those of you who have time to travel to really think about, since I only spent about 7-8 weeks travelling these two years, as opposed to the whole rest of the time working at least 40 hours a week. I think that it’s not a matter of not being able to afford to travel—I sincerely believe that we can’t afford not to travel. I can spend the rest of my life making money, but it will not be until I retire that I will have this much time on my hands to see the world.
So, off I go again, three weeks to wander around Europe. I wish I could have gone to Asia, but the SARS thing seems to have abated too late for me to change my plans. In 48 hours, I will be landing home…in Amsterdam. I cannot wait.
Today is my last day at work, and the end of my two years of confused wandering in the work world, and in about two months, the beginning of three years of law school. But it’s been a hell of a two years, and impressive on my resume even if a lot of it sounds much better than it really was. I learned a lot about what I like and dislike in a working environment—experience that is priceless, given how naïve I was when I graduated from college.
In the past two years, I have traveled to: Paris (twice), Amsterdam (twice), Lyon, Marseilles, Rome, Venice, Florence, Prague, Vienna, Siena, Barcelona, Riomaggiore, and Hawaii. I learned just as much travelling as I did working full time—something for those of you who have time to travel to really think about, since I only spent about 7-8 weeks travelling these two years, as opposed to the whole rest of the time working at least 40 hours a week. I think that it’s not a matter of not being able to afford to travel—I sincerely believe that we can’t afford not to travel. I can spend the rest of my life making money, but it will not be until I retire that I will have this much time on my hands to see the world.
So, off I go again, three weeks to wander around Europe. I wish I could have gone to Asia, but the SARS thing seems to have abated too late for me to change my plans. In 48 hours, I will be landing home…in Amsterdam. I cannot wait.
Tuesday, June 03, 2003
this is what i sometimes see when i go to sleep:
two graphic nightmares about murdered children:
the police discovered the bodies in a field of golden wheat. it was a mother and child, carefully arranged so it looked like the child was sleeping peacefully in her mother's arms. but when i got closer, i could see that they were dead...that thousands of small lacerations had been cut all over their bodies. to illustrate this point further, the next scene is of a naked body in the lotus position but standing on its head in a waving field of wheat, the blue cloudless sky in the background. the skin is visibly dead and decaying..taking on a greyish hue. the lacerations are red, a few inches each in length, covering the entire body.
the police had been searching the lake for the bodies...suddenly, a cloud of ash appeared beneath the water--something was coming up from the bottom. the light gray body of a child appears, bobbing up and down, eyes open, vacant and staring directly at me. i can see the blue veins underneath the skin. another cloud appears underneath the water, and i watch in dread as another small child comes up. these children were a small boy and a girl, but i can't remember which one appeared first. what i do remember is that the end of my dream is an extreme close-up of the girl's gray-blue lips, which are trembling like she's trying to tell me something.
two graphic nightmares about murdered children:
the police discovered the bodies in a field of golden wheat. it was a mother and child, carefully arranged so it looked like the child was sleeping peacefully in her mother's arms. but when i got closer, i could see that they were dead...that thousands of small lacerations had been cut all over their bodies. to illustrate this point further, the next scene is of a naked body in the lotus position but standing on its head in a waving field of wheat, the blue cloudless sky in the background. the skin is visibly dead and decaying..taking on a greyish hue. the lacerations are red, a few inches each in length, covering the entire body.
the police had been searching the lake for the bodies...suddenly, a cloud of ash appeared beneath the water--something was coming up from the bottom. the light gray body of a child appears, bobbing up and down, eyes open, vacant and staring directly at me. i can see the blue veins underneath the skin. another cloud appears underneath the water, and i watch in dread as another small child comes up. these children were a small boy and a girl, but i can't remember which one appeared first. what i do remember is that the end of my dream is an extreme close-up of the girl's gray-blue lips, which are trembling like she's trying to tell me something.
Saturday, May 31, 2003
On Dreams....
it happened again. i dreamt something and it came true.
this time, i had written down my dream (on May 4, 2003), complete with sketches, and left the paper in Tim's desk. Tim was with me on May 24, exactly 20 days later, when the things i dreamt came true. So now, I have written proof, a witness to my written proof, and a witness to the actual events. As for the details of the dream..call me for an explanation.
It is undeniable now that I really do dream about events that will happen in the future. This comes as no big surprise to me, since it has been happening since i was a little kid, but I am still very disturbed, as I have had more precognitive dreams this past year than all the past true-dream instances of my life combined. Poor Tim is completely freaked, and i do not blame him.
Here is what I dreamt last night:
I was in a coffeeshop in Amsterdam...I thought I had walked into the rastaman shop where I usually hung out the last two times I went to Amsterdam, but I guess they had remodeled the place since it was darker and there was a big wooden bar/counter. There was a round wooden table with several chairs near the bar, and against the wall there was a smaller wooden table with a black guy sitting there smoking. Tim and I were buying weed from the menu and comparing the different kinds. I bought some crazy mango or tropical flavored variety, and it smelled very fruity. We started talking to other people at the coffeeshop, and ended up sitting at the round table together. I had trouble finding rolling papers on the counter, but eventually found them, although they were strangely wider than usual.
I have no idea if this is ever going to happen, but if it does, then that would be very cool since I'll have more proof, although at this point I don't think I need any more proof.
What's really scaring me is that I have been dreaming about my dead relatives, in particular my mother. This deeply disturbs me because I have only dreamt of my mother twice in the six years since her death, but it is happening more frequently lately. These dreams are very clear, like the dreams I have that come true (I can usually tell if it's a precognitive dream by the clarity of the dream--precognitive ones are extra clear, if that makes any sense). And she keeps trying to say something to me, but I can't tell what it is.
it happened again. i dreamt something and it came true.
this time, i had written down my dream (on May 4, 2003), complete with sketches, and left the paper in Tim's desk. Tim was with me on May 24, exactly 20 days later, when the things i dreamt came true. So now, I have written proof, a witness to my written proof, and a witness to the actual events. As for the details of the dream..call me for an explanation.
It is undeniable now that I really do dream about events that will happen in the future. This comes as no big surprise to me, since it has been happening since i was a little kid, but I am still very disturbed, as I have had more precognitive dreams this past year than all the past true-dream instances of my life combined. Poor Tim is completely freaked, and i do not blame him.
Here is what I dreamt last night:
I was in a coffeeshop in Amsterdam...I thought I had walked into the rastaman shop where I usually hung out the last two times I went to Amsterdam, but I guess they had remodeled the place since it was darker and there was a big wooden bar/counter. There was a round wooden table with several chairs near the bar, and against the wall there was a smaller wooden table with a black guy sitting there smoking. Tim and I were buying weed from the menu and comparing the different kinds. I bought some crazy mango or tropical flavored variety, and it smelled very fruity. We started talking to other people at the coffeeshop, and ended up sitting at the round table together. I had trouble finding rolling papers on the counter, but eventually found them, although they were strangely wider than usual.
I have no idea if this is ever going to happen, but if it does, then that would be very cool since I'll have more proof, although at this point I don't think I need any more proof.
What's really scaring me is that I have been dreaming about my dead relatives, in particular my mother. This deeply disturbs me because I have only dreamt of my mother twice in the six years since her death, but it is happening more frequently lately. These dreams are very clear, like the dreams I have that come true (I can usually tell if it's a precognitive dream by the clarity of the dream--precognitive ones are extra clear, if that makes any sense). And she keeps trying to say something to me, but I can't tell what it is.
Friday, May 23, 2003
So nowadays, i work as a Regulatory Coordinator for First American. I'm a regulator, just like warren g! haha, i wish. i spend most of my time nodding off at my desk, the criminally horrible coffee unable to jolt me out of regulatory compliance coma. actually, it's not that bad. the job, i mean--the people are really cool and i have a nice big mahogany desk and a cushy leather chair that dwarfs me, making me look like a little kid. the coffee, sadly,is that bad.
oh, and i'm waitlisted at hastings and USC, but will probably still end up going to USD, since USC is too damned expensive and Hastings is too damned hilly and cold.
i am leaving for europe (yes, i am going to europe yet again) on the 18th of june. this time, i promise, i will not overdose on shrooms and wander out of the line to the van gogh museum to sit around in vondelpark. i found out, though, that the dollar has slipped to $1.17 to 1 euro--twenty cents more than last year!!!! everything will cost twenty percent more. war....what is it good for?
oh, and i'm waitlisted at hastings and USC, but will probably still end up going to USD, since USC is too damned expensive and Hastings is too damned hilly and cold.
i am leaving for europe (yes, i am going to europe yet again) on the 18th of june. this time, i promise, i will not overdose on shrooms and wander out of the line to the van gogh museum to sit around in vondelpark. i found out, though, that the dollar has slipped to $1.17 to 1 euro--twenty cents more than last year!!!! everything will cost twenty percent more. war....what is it good for?
my cat has been missing for a month. i am so distraugt. my father and sister live in denial, they keep saying that he'll come home any day now....only i have the presence of mind to think that maybe he's....dead. i can't believe he's gone. we have searched the animal shelters, and my dad even uploaded his picture online, to no avail.
meow, where are you?
meow, where are you?
Monday, April 28, 2003
Thursday, April 24, 2003
Tuesday, April 08, 2003
damn, i haven't written in almost a month, and what an eventful month it has been.
let's see...i was forced to resign at work (unfair!). but then again, i hated the place anyway, so i wasn't that sad that i was tanked, just worried that i'd not be able to make enough money to support myself. luckily, i'm working again after only a week off. during my week, i went to lawry's; spent three days in san diego, one of which was spent following a friend to law school classes at USD; relaxed in the sun and got a tan; went to the getty museum; and went snowboarding in mammoth (in that order).
so, while i was in a rather crummy mood last last friday, things turned out for the better. i have a very flexible work schedule, and i'm off at 4:00pm. it's boring, but hell, i only have a few more months to endure anyway. i'm planning on travelling this summer, but i do not know where or how exactly...need more adventure before i hit the books in august.
let's see...i was forced to resign at work (unfair!). but then again, i hated the place anyway, so i wasn't that sad that i was tanked, just worried that i'd not be able to make enough money to support myself. luckily, i'm working again after only a week off. during my week, i went to lawry's; spent three days in san diego, one of which was spent following a friend to law school classes at USD; relaxed in the sun and got a tan; went to the getty museum; and went snowboarding in mammoth (in that order).
so, while i was in a rather crummy mood last last friday, things turned out for the better. i have a very flexible work schedule, and i'm off at 4:00pm. it's boring, but hell, i only have a few more months to endure anyway. i'm planning on travelling this summer, but i do not know where or how exactly...need more adventure before i hit the books in august.
Monday, March 10, 2003
saturday, i went to a retro 90's club, where they played almost all 90's music, all night long (except for a most unwelcome intrusion by nelly and 50-cent). i don't know whether to be happy that a place exists where i can wiggle to all of my favorite music, blissfully free of flowing polyester shirts, cross-colours and pants "big enough to hide chickens in" (so my dad used to say), or sad that i'm now so old that the music of my youth is now considered retro. paperboy is not retro, it's good! they should have called it a good music club.
besides eminem, and outkast, i don't like any rap on the radio anymore. i find that it is devoid of the thoughtfulness that was evident in earlier rap. it has become egotistical without purpose...at least artists like tupac had a definite philosophy, and addressed social issues.
it seems i can't turn on the radio without hearing about someone's bling-bling and how nelly wants not one pair of shoes, but two. well, i don't give a fuck about nelly's shoes, and i think that one pair of the same damn shoes is enough for anybody. if you're going to condone excess, at least also encourage variety. would he be happier with twenty pairs of the same shoes than two? and what nexus could there possibly exist between a pair of shoes and air-force one? actually, run-dmc rapped about their adidas, and i have no problem with that, because the lyrics did not pick on people who did not have adidas--the adidas were an instrument that described rap culture, not a mechanism of separating the haves from the have-nots.
i'll stop ranting. i really don't like radio rap.
this just in:
Baby61212: i'm gettig really mad righ tnow because i'm writing about rap on my blog
Baby61212: rap sucks these days...
idlepimpin: WHAT ARE Y"OU TALKING ABOUT?
Baby61212: you LIKE contemporary rap?
idlepimpin: LIKE?!
idlepimpin: I GOT TWO WIRDS:
idlepimpin: FITTY CENT!!!
idlepimpin: YA HEARD?!
Baby61212: AAAAGH! i hate that guy!
Baby61212: i he slurs!
idlepimpin: HE:S SO WONDERFUL!
Baby61212: and he has no vocabulary.
idlepimpin: god's gift to women and audio enthusiasts!
Baby61212: omg
idlepimpin: what?! no vocab?!
Baby61212: or maybe he slurs so much i can't understand it
idlepimpin: "bub" "fuck" "sex" "drugs" "popov"
idlepimpin: "popov" <--- DUDE! he SPEAKS RUSSIAN!
Baby61212: and i don't like the word "wanksta"
Baby61212: what is a wanksta anyway?
idlepimpin: wanksta--- such an intuitive sense of lyricism and locution
idlepimpin: one can only be awed in wonder
Baby61212: i think he made it up becasue nothing else rhymes with gangsta
idlepimpin: hahaha
idlepimpin: dont be a hater
idlepimpin: you love him
idlepimpin: let's be fans together
besides eminem, and outkast, i don't like any rap on the radio anymore. i find that it is devoid of the thoughtfulness that was evident in earlier rap. it has become egotistical without purpose...at least artists like tupac had a definite philosophy, and addressed social issues.
it seems i can't turn on the radio without hearing about someone's bling-bling and how nelly wants not one pair of shoes, but two. well, i don't give a fuck about nelly's shoes, and i think that one pair of the same damn shoes is enough for anybody. if you're going to condone excess, at least also encourage variety. would he be happier with twenty pairs of the same shoes than two? and what nexus could there possibly exist between a pair of shoes and air-force one? actually, run-dmc rapped about their adidas, and i have no problem with that, because the lyrics did not pick on people who did not have adidas--the adidas were an instrument that described rap culture, not a mechanism of separating the haves from the have-nots.
i'll stop ranting. i really don't like radio rap.
this just in:
Baby61212: i'm gettig really mad righ tnow because i'm writing about rap on my blog
Baby61212: rap sucks these days...
idlepimpin: WHAT ARE Y"OU TALKING ABOUT?
Baby61212: you LIKE contemporary rap?
idlepimpin: LIKE?!
idlepimpin: I GOT TWO WIRDS:
idlepimpin: FITTY CENT!!!
idlepimpin: YA HEARD?!
Baby61212: AAAAGH! i hate that guy!
Baby61212: i he slurs!
idlepimpin: HE:S SO WONDERFUL!
Baby61212: and he has no vocabulary.
idlepimpin: god's gift to women and audio enthusiasts!
Baby61212: omg
idlepimpin: what?! no vocab?!
Baby61212: or maybe he slurs so much i can't understand it
idlepimpin: "bub" "fuck" "sex" "drugs" "popov"
idlepimpin: "popov" <--- DUDE! he SPEAKS RUSSIAN!
Baby61212: and i don't like the word "wanksta"
Baby61212: what is a wanksta anyway?
idlepimpin: wanksta--- such an intuitive sense of lyricism and locution
idlepimpin: one can only be awed in wonder
Baby61212: i think he made it up becasue nothing else rhymes with gangsta
idlepimpin: hahaha
idlepimpin: dont be a hater
idlepimpin: you love him
idlepimpin: let's be fans together
Saturday, March 01, 2003
sitting on the floor, drinking orange juice and watching the cars pass by on the street outside, framed by the leaves of my palm plant, Marley...
talking to my friends lately, noticed that everyone my age seems to be in the same predicament of uncertainty about their futures...i.e., we don't know where the hell we're going in life. everything is so foggy, and though i've laid before myself a path to follow, i have no way of knowing whether it will lead to fulfillment.
at the same time, for the past year or so, i've been finding myself stopping, while i'm sitting outside having a cig with my friends, driving along a long stretch of highway at night--or sitting here in my room, for example--to say to myself, "this is so beautiful," because i know that these are the years i will look back on when i'm older in nostalgia. i guess i'm realizing how good it is to be young, and how fast it's going to pass by.
i'm at a point in life where i'm past the innocence of childhood and the ignorance of adolescence, but still caught in the naivete of youth, yet endowed with enough knowledge to see that i am not yet in, but fast approaching, the steadiness of routine and obligations that may define the rest of my life. not that growing up is a bad thing--we all have to do it at one point or another--just that, well, maybe this uncertainty is good and beautiful in its own way. maybe i'm going to look back twenty years from now and wish that i still felt like i couldn't begin to guess what my life will be like in five years. every day presents itself a new path, and we all should feel lucky to be at a point where everything's so unpredictable.
i want to look back on my twenties and be able to say that i lived them balls out (yes, i know, i do not have balls), no holds barred, to the absolute fullest.
two things i've heard from older, wiser people:
1) if you believe you can or you can't, you're right
2) at the end of it all, you will only regret the things in life that you didn't do.
talking to my friends lately, noticed that everyone my age seems to be in the same predicament of uncertainty about their futures...i.e., we don't know where the hell we're going in life. everything is so foggy, and though i've laid before myself a path to follow, i have no way of knowing whether it will lead to fulfillment.
at the same time, for the past year or so, i've been finding myself stopping, while i'm sitting outside having a cig with my friends, driving along a long stretch of highway at night--or sitting here in my room, for example--to say to myself, "this is so beautiful," because i know that these are the years i will look back on when i'm older in nostalgia. i guess i'm realizing how good it is to be young, and how fast it's going to pass by.
i'm at a point in life where i'm past the innocence of childhood and the ignorance of adolescence, but still caught in the naivete of youth, yet endowed with enough knowledge to see that i am not yet in, but fast approaching, the steadiness of routine and obligations that may define the rest of my life. not that growing up is a bad thing--we all have to do it at one point or another--just that, well, maybe this uncertainty is good and beautiful in its own way. maybe i'm going to look back twenty years from now and wish that i still felt like i couldn't begin to guess what my life will be like in five years. every day presents itself a new path, and we all should feel lucky to be at a point where everything's so unpredictable.
i want to look back on my twenties and be able to say that i lived them balls out (yes, i know, i do not have balls), no holds barred, to the absolute fullest.
two things i've heard from older, wiser people:
1) if you believe you can or you can't, you're right
2) at the end of it all, you will only regret the things in life that you didn't do.
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