The journey beings:
Due to the distance between Chicago and Tokyo, it was a given that we were going to lose almost two days on the flight over to the Land of the Rising Sun. Being naive little cookies, me and the boyfriend had decided to stay up all night in the hopes of sleeping on the flight and hitting the ground running in Japan. By the time we had landed in Narita, remained on our plane for the mandatory swine flue tests and quarantine, passed through immgration (a breeze compared to the inefficient American system), rented a cell phone, took the 1 hour train ride to Tokyo, and found our hostel, it goes without saying that we were lucky enough to land on the bed and not the floor when we passed out at 9 PM. We arose bright and early the next morning to get out and explore the this mecca of tradition and innovation.
Our hostel was in the Asakusa neighborhood in north eastern Tokyo, which is apparently a very big hostel/backpackers area. It didn't matter to us either way, because it was a good starting and stopping point for most of the sights we had planned on seeing for the day. We wandered out from the hostel with the intent on finding some breakfast. Not much was open at this early hour, so our only option was a restaurant where you order food from a machine and hand over the ticket to the cook. Our first culinary experience in Japan was extremely positive, with Zach exercising great restraint in not liking his bowls. We thanked the cook and promptly marched down the street to Senso-ji Temple.
Many people are familar with Senso-ji due to the large gate with enormous red lantern that marks the entrance to the ground. The gate contains statues of Raijin and Fujin, gods of wind and thunder. Once you pass the gate, you being the quiet (at least at this time in the morning) stroll up the lane that leads to the temple. Traditionally these roads are lined with shops selling local foods and souveniors (omiyage), but since we had arrive so early most of these shops were closed for the day. Even so, the walk was calming and attractive, since the gates that locked the stores up for the day were painted with interesting ocean and cherry blossom motifs. The temple grounds themselves were equally trainquil, with dozens of little statues and monuments dotting the area. There were lots of Jizo statues with red bibs and hats, indicating someone had stopped by to ask for his mercy. Outside the main temple was a traditional cleansing station. Grasp the dipper with the right hand and collect water, rinse the left hand, collect more water with the right hand, place the dipper in the left hand, cleanse the right hand, collect water with the right hand again, rinse your mouth, release the water from your mouth in to the drain. It had been awhile since I'd had to do it, but it was like riding a bicycle. The inside was elaborate and intricate, with curved wood and elegant paintings gracing the walls and ceiling. A steady stream of Japanese men and women came in and out of the temple, making an offering and silently praying.
Wishing to continue the peaceful and serene day we'd began, we jumped on the Tokyo Metro and headed to Ueno Park. One of the most enjoyable things about Ueno is that despite being surrounded by an endless sea of people, shops, and concrete, it somehow manages to envelope you in the feeling of nature and tranquility and make you forget you're in one of the most urban locations in the world. We meandered through that park, taking in the trees, temples, and monuments while watching Japanese couples and families stroll along with us. It was Golden Week in Japan, which is a string of holidays with a variety of focuses, which meant people were out of work and enjoying the amenities of Tokyo right along side us. We walked through a book fair for childen, watched a baseball team pratice in an outdoor field, and sat on a park bench eating cheery blossom flavored ice cream. If I lived in Tokyo, you can beat Ueno Park would be on my list of places I'd like to spend a sunny Sunday morning.
After a quick lunch at the train station, we headed to the Harajuku area to meet up with my Uncle Hiroshi and Aunt Yuriko. I hadn't seen them since I was 14 years old, and this was a reunion long in the making. They'd agreed to meet us at 1 PM near the Meiji Shrine, and we arrived slightly past the hour. The first thing that struck us was just how *busy* this part of Tokyo was. While Asakusa and Ueno had a steady stream of people in it, Harajuku was stuffed to the brim with people. Young, old, middle aged, coupled, single, families, teenagers, costumed freaks, conservative temple goers, and consumers alike. My Uncle found us almost immediately, which wasn't hard considering Zach is a giant 6'4" white guy in a sea of tiny Japanese people. We crossed a pedestrian bridge and met up with my Aunt right in front of the cos-playing kids made famous through news reports, tour guides, and Gwen Stefani's cultural confiscation. I was mildly disappointed with the assortment of costumes and outfits to be honest. It must have been a slow day. Right past this area was the entrance to Meiji Shrine, dedicated to the native Japanese Shinto religion, different then the Senso-ji Temple earlier in the day that is Buddhist. While to some people the difference might not be so apparent, it's easy to see the aesthetic differences one you start looking for them.
The four of us made our way toward the shrine, walking on an unpaved gravel road through towering trees and wooden torii gates. We passed an assortment of sake barrels stacked on the side of the road, and those were standing opposite of some wine barrels donated from France. Being Golden Week, there was a variety of traditional Japanese crafts and activities being demonstrated on our way to the temple, from taiko drumming to Japanese archery (kyudo). A Shinto priestess was demonstrating the traditional method of weaving rope, and when we reached the main shrine area we were treated to a religious procession of faithful worhippers being lead into the building by orange and white robed priests. It was here at Meiji Shrine that we first started seeing Japanese men and women in traditional clothing, which isn't too common outside of special occasions (and being a holiday season, it qualified as just such an occasion). The shrine was enthralling. Despite having herds of people shifting about at all times, it still managed to remain quiet and calm. The bright green to the tree canopy above us was contrasted nicely by the white paper trimmings, wooden architecture, and bright blue accents through the temple grounds.
After the the shrine viewing, we made our way back out into the chaos that is the Harajuku area and fought our way through the crowds of youthful shoppers on our way to Shinjuku. Ironically we passed the grand opening of the Forever 21 store, which is pretty just another store in an American mall, but somehow managed to get Japanese girls to line up for 10 to 15 city blocks waiting for their turn to enter the store. After almost an hour of walking through hordes of people, we finally made it to the quieter streets of Shinjuku for a quick lunch before heading over to the Tokyo Metropolitan Building. This office building as an observation deck that is free to the public. It towered above most of the other buildings in the area, and yet still was dwarfed by the buildings back home in Chicago. Being so earthquake prone, I'm sure Tokyoites aren't so keen on having massive steel skyscrapers in their city. Despite being small by American standards, the building offered great views of the city from all directions. The urban sprawl of Tokyo was impressive, and it gives you a little bit of perspective on just how large a city you're standing in.
After this jaunt it was time for my Aunt and Uncle to stay their goodbyes and wish us well on the rest of our trip in Japan. We shook hands and bowed (hugging might be a bit too intimate for relatives who hardly see each other), and before I knew it they were on their way home to the outskirts of Tokyo. Throughly exhausted, Zach and I made an executive decision to by pass our planned stop on the man-made island of Daiba with its futuristic buildings and instead go to Shibuya. This area of Tokyo is famous for having one of (if not THE) busiest pedestrian crossings in the world. We wandered around the train station and finally managed to find a good vantage point in which to watch the madness outside. Traffic speeds through the massive intersection (probably 5 or 6 roads) for a few minutes when all lights turn to red. At this point, pedestrians from every street corner on the interection receive the "go ahead" to cross. There is no organized fashion in which to do so. You don't cross north to south or east to west. You simply step into the street and head to the corner you need to get to. No cars are allowed to pass at this time, just masses of people scurrying across to get where they need to go. Completely fun to watch. We also made a quick stop at the Hachiko statue. This is a statue of a Shiba Inu dog that is memorialized here at the Shibuya station. The story behind the statue is that Hachiko would follow his owner every morning to the train station on his way to work. He'd then return home after his master boarded his train. In the evening Hachiko would make his way back to the train station to meet his master and escort him home. Eventually his master passed away at work, and never returned to the train station. Regardless, Hachiko waited faithfully for his master every day at the train station until his own death. To mark the devotion of this dog, and dogs in general, the Japanese built a monument to Hachiko at the station. Being the owner of a Shiba Inu, and a general dog softee in general, this was definitely on my list of things to see. We spend a little time shopping in Shibuya (where the store clerks kept politely telling Zach he was too tall to fit into anything, haha!) before succumbing to jet lag and general exhaustion and heading back to our hostel for the night.
We needed to be well rested, since the next day marked our escape from Tokyo and arrival in Kyoto.
- Mood:
blank
It's been a rollercoaster since February when I last wrote. To simplify things for you and for me, I'm going to just break my life into generic categories and give you the run down and what's hot, and what's not in my life.
FAMILY:
Last I recall, I had mentioned that my mother had made the decision to leave my father on New Year's Eve. A few months back my Aunt, my mother's sister, was told by the doctor that her cancer was no longer managable and that she would have two weeks to two months at most. My Aunt has had terminal cancer for awhile now, but this was the first time doctor essentially said she'd be passing. Having just been laid off from her job, my Mother took this as a sign that she was supposed to take care of her sister, and promptly bought a one way ticket to Seattle and was off the next day. She's been living in Seattle ever since, and I'm happy to say that my Aunt has defied the doctor's diagnosis and is still alive today. Her goal is to celebrate the New Year. We all know she won't make it forever, but she's a fighter and she's proved it. While living in Seattle, my mother has finally managed to get my Dad to accept the inevitable and agree to legally divorce. With no income, my Mom knew she'd need something soon, and my Dad's stonewalling over the relationship wasn't helping. She had lost her job and was losing her sister, all while my father refused to acknowledge that their relationship had run it's course and he lived in the house she had paid 50% of. My Dad will either buy my mother out of the house, or they will sell it and split the money. So the house I call "home" will be gone sometime soon. Once my Aunt passes away, my Mom will have to take my Grandmother back to Japan. This will mean temporarily moving back to Japan for 6 months to a year. It's already tough not seeing my Mom as often as we use to, and having her move 7000 miles away doesn't seem like it will help.
My brother and sister are doing just fine, same as they always were. My Dad was recently diagnosed with diabetes, which was a not so shocking to all of us but at the same time disconcerting.
LOVE:
Zach and I are stil going strong and seeing each other. We've done so well in our relationship that we decided to take the next step and move in together. So now the two of us have a nice exposed duct work condo on the lake on the northside of Chicago. I take the train to work, he drives to the suburbs. I won't say it has been all peaches and apple pie since February, we had some very rough times inbetween. We are still doing very well and our relationship has stabled out and is solid. A lot of our relationship issues seemed to stem from outside forces pressuring us; family, friends, and work. I come home every night to a boyfriend who is loving and caring, though perhaps not as organized and neat as I prefer. Zach applied for and was accepted into the University of Chicago's MBA program. He started his first semester in August and seems to be getting amazing grades. I'm happy that he's taking a positive investment in his future, and this will exponentially increase his marketability when looking for jobs. He's unhappy with his current position, so I'll be looking forward to the day he can move into something that makes him happier.
FRIENDS:
One of the very last things I blogged about before going was the deterioration of one of my friendships with one of my best friends. My assertion that I'd end up moving out of our apartment and cutting him out of my life was something I stuck to. I no longer associate with any of my old friends/roommates. The living situation in our house the last two months of my lease were hellish. Drunkenly being berated at 5 AM in the morning while they stormed through the house calling me names and throwing pots and pans around to keep me awake. Snide comments and rude behavior, rumor mongering. The list goes on and on. I'm happy to be out of that toxic situation and happy to have moved on to bigger and better things. I'm currently feeling a bit lonely in the friend department, but I know I'm not the only one. I have kept up with the activities that I enjoy and give me pleasure, but as an almost 30 year old gay man, it's hard to find and make real friendships. And even hold on to the ones you have.
HOBBIES:
I had been playing volleyball for a two months when I ended by blog last. I am happy to say I am still playing volleyball, and it's one of the most enjoyable things in my life. After my first fun, yet frustrating season, I ended up linking up with some other guys who were looking to form a fun, yet serious and competitive team. I was a little wary, considering it had been since high school since I had played, and my skills were at best rudimentary and unpolished. They seemed to think I would get better over time and I'm glad I didn't let my fears get in the way of me joining up. Over the last year I've managed to become a much better player, and am now playing with a group of guys who know what they are doing, don't yell and scream at me when I make a mistake, and have motivated me to become a better player. I went from being on a team that was disqualified from the finals to a team that took 2nd place in it's first tournament, finished in 3rd place in the spring season, finished in 1st our summer season, and is now tied for 1st in our current season. I'm still not by any measure an amazing player, nor am I the best player on my team, but they push me to play my best and to have fun while doing it. I never thought when I started a year ago I'd be jumping and spiking like I do now. There's a possibility we will be traveling to New Orleans in January to participate in a national tournament. I'm excited.
TRAVEL:
My previous blogging also included a lot of pining (and whining) about my desire to see the world and my inability to do anything about it. I changed that. I decided it was about time I stopped wishing I could do things and start taking steps that would remedy the situation. I did some research and after a few months I figured out that traveling around the world does not have to be as expensive as I thought. You just know where to look and how to find things. Zach and I bought our first tickets and left the country in May for a 10 week tour of Japan. I was nervous at first. The tickets were only $400 per person, but I was unsure I had the financial means and travel know-how to keep our costs in control for the whole 10 days. I ended up coming back with quite a chunk of change, and an understanding that if I put my mind to it and look carefully, I could travel to just about anywhere. So I started to. Since that first trip I've bought tickets to Greece, Argentina/Uruguay, Thailand, and another trip to Japan. I headed out across the US too, stopping in Atlanta, Dallas, Savannah, DC, and Seattle twice. I'm kicking myself for not looking into travel more heavily earlier. All those years I thought I couldn't afford to get to Miami, let alone Thailand. Even with all those trips, I haven't spent more then $2,000 in airfare this year. I've got the travel bug, and I've figured out how to do it on the cheap. This won't stop anytime soon. My posting in the next three weeks might be limited, since I'm leaving for Tokyo on Thursday, come back for two days, head to Bangkok on the Friday after Thanksgiving, and then head from there directly back to Chicago to catch my flight to Buenos Aires the next day. I'll just say I'm lucky my vacation time is so flexible here!
So that's the run down of my life so far. My next few posts will probably focus on some of my thoughts on the state of my family and friends. I also keep another "blog" on another website specific for travel, so I'll be copying and pasting my past trip reports with some photos as well. Hopefully you enjoy them!
- Location:The Loop, Chicago
- Mood:
accomplished - Music:Naked - Because The Night
As is par for my course, I took a break from blogging only to decide a few months down the line that I missed writing and wanted to find an outlet for it again. So here I am. Writing again. And seeing where things go.
When I first thought about blogging again, I was pretty set on the idea of creating a stand alone blog with a theme. Something that would tie the entire thing together and make it about "something". I thought about what I loved. Travel? Volleyball? Chicago? None of it really leapt out at me as the one thing I could write about all the time. After a few weeks of mulling it over, I finally decided to come back to my trusty Livejournal and write about anything I wanted to. Just like before.
I've got a lot I want to write about, since a lot has happened between when I last wrote and now. I'll probably post a bit more frequently then I used to at first, then I hope to maintain a steady posting speed.
So, I'm glad to be back and hope some of you are still interested in seeing what I have to say.
Hi! =)
- Location:The Loop, Chicago
- Mood:
amused - Music:M.I.A. ft. Timbaland - Come Around
I appreciate all the time anyone has taken to view this little journal of mine, and wanted you to know I've enjoyed all the comments and feedback I've received over the past year.
If you wish to remain in touch with me, I welcome you to do so. The best avenue for that is either through Facebook, or AIM.
Facebook: Search for me under the email LeoRawrs81@gmail.com
AIM: LeoRawrs81
Best,
David
It's over a month into the new year and with the roller coaster of events that rocked the tail end of the 2008 I would think that there would be more significant and interesting developments in my life to date, but there aren't. Life has certainly come in like a lamb for 2009. Which isn't to say that there aren't things on my mind, because there certainly are. For some reason there isn't the hectic helter skelter level of panic in my mind that previously accompanied any new thoughts or reveleations that popped into my head. LIfe continues on but the waves aren't rocking my boat.
My family is still undergoing a bit of emotional turmoil, all from my mother, my sister, and my father. My mom is adjusting to her new life as a single woman fairly well. She took up a part time job waiting tables at a Japanese restaurant on Saturday nights to help pay her bills. I mentinoed before that I didn't like this idea, but that she was too proud and self-sufficient to accept money from us to help her make ends meet. I also think there is a small element of needing to prove to herself that she can survive on her own tangled into things, so I'm accepting the terms of her new life as she presents them.
My sister has decided to give her boyfriend a 2nd chance, which isn't still too well with me or my mother, though I'm admittedly handling the decision much better then my mother. Overlooking the fact that I think he's pretty much a douche bag and that she could do so much better then him, I'm more concerned with the fact that she is interviewing next week for an opportunity to go teach English in Japan for a year and this new romantic development might jeopardize that. She's having a very difficult time finding a job in the economy, and when she realized that she suddenly remember how she had really wanted to go to Japan for a year after college and learn the language better, connect with her heritage, and get some teaching experience. Now Jim has waltzed back into her life and I have a feeling the interview next week is not longer a priority. I can understand doing things for love, but throwing a job prospect away after getting back together with a guy everyone hates after only a week smells like trouble to me.
I haven't spoken to my Dad since Christmas. I don't have plans to go up and visit him and I don't have the urge to call him up on the phone. I long time ago I wrote about the fact that it scared me that if my mother ever left my father that I'd have absolutely no reason to keep in touch with him. Our relationship is strained and difficult to begin with, so with my mom no longer in the house there is not opportunity for us to reach out to each other and connect. This will be something I'll have to wrestle with in the next few weeks, whether or not I want to actually make the attempt to develop a relationship with my father, or if it's something I'm willing to have fade into the night and become "the past".
I think I've decided that when August rolls around, I'm going to try to attempt to move out of my currently living situation. It has been nice to live with two friends from college for the last two years, but I think the directions of our lives are moving in completely different arenas, and it might be time for me to either branch out on my own, or to seek new individuals to share a living space with. One roommate is fantastic and great to live with, but the other one has run it's course and I'm a little tired of dealing with the uncleaned messes (literally, hasn't washed a dish, taken the garbage out, or even cleaned his own room in .... two years), the unapologetic rudeness, and the lost funds I endure when he eats my food and drinks my pop. Which begs the questions why he has asked me recently to cover part of his rent when he's not spending any money on food? Dude, you're eating all my nom noms, where the fuck is your money going? I know where, and that's another reason I want to move that will remain unaddressed for now.
While the individual I live with are part of the reason I'm thinking of striking out on my own, another larger issue is just trying to get a little big of a change of venue. Uptown has served me fairly well for my first formative years of living in Chicago, but I'm getting the itch to try and venture out into new areas. Striking the right balance for my life would be difficult though. I'd love to continue having a garage and a washer and dryer in my house (which is pretty much impossible realistically). I'd also like to keep my commute either at the same length or shorter. Street parking should be available and free so that visitors can park without having to pay $20 each time. I also don't want to spend an arm and a leg on rent so that I can have all these things and live in a safe location. Pretty much what I'm asking for is impossible. So do I strike out on my own and give up some of my comforts? Or do I continue living my comfortable if mildly annoyed life in Uptown? Decisions, decisions.
- Location:The Loop, Chicago
- Mood:
thoughtful - Music:Sugarland - Baby Girl
As a "thank you" to the inhabitants of the building for the 77 days of flustered activity the swarmed our lives, the General Services Administration began offering tours of the Obama Tranistional office. They warned us it wasn't much to see, but they knew there was a large level of curiousity among us to see exactly where all this activity took place behind the closed doors and barred walls of our top floors. I thought it was going to be fairly lame in scope, which it was in terms of having actually exciting and interesting things to "see" while up there. The really great part about going though was having the local GSA staff who was assigned to work in the office give their personal accounts of the activities that went on.
What I learned:
- The GSA preps every presidential transition every 4 years, even if there is an incumbent president because staffing changes still get made.
- Obama is thought to be the only President-elect, besides Washington, to have planned his transition outside of Washington, DC.
- The GSA originally contracted space in DC for 450 staffers in anticipation of either candidate winning, but once Obama sealed victory they were informed he would be staying in Chicago to be near his family.
- The 450 staff level is the average for administration changes, but Obama only brought 50 staffers to the Chicago office.
- He would wake up and work out at 6 AM in Hyde Park, arrive at the building every day at 9 AM, leave at 6 PM, take family time from 615 till 9PM, and then start working from home again, 7 days a week. This meant GSA staffers had to adjust their schedules to work weekends.
- Joe Biden only worked on Wednesdays.
- Obama's interview in Newsweek magazine started off with a criticism of the lack of opulent decor found in the transition office. His office consisted of a desk, a table, a refridgerator, 5 small paintings about the Tennessee Valley Authority (inspiration to tackle the current economic situation we're told....), two American flags, and a television. The television was tuned to ESPN. Sports helped clear his mind we were told.
- The blinds on the floor were all closed, and never allowed to be open. Secret Service was worried someone with a sight line from one of the taller sky scrapers downtown could snipe him. The lack of tall buildings in DC was missed in Chicago.
- 3 inch thick plates of bullet proof glass were placed in the main meeting room and the President-elect's office. Just in case.
- The Secret Service closed a freight elevator from the basement to use exclusively for transporting Obama. The elevator opened to a hallway that lead directly to his office. After three days Obama objected to the procedure and insisted on taking the long way around the hall so he could walk into the lobby of the transition team's office and greet the GSA workers with a "Good Morning."
- While all VIP visitors to the office were placed in "holding areas" and then escorted to Obama's office per protocol from Secret Service, Obama insisted on walking on his own to meet Sentor Clinton in her holding area personally as a way of breaking the possible tension between them.
- Michelle Obama had office space (really small office space, the size of my cubicle!) but only came into the office 6 times. People sent gifts (basketballs, dresses for the girls, etc) to the family. The policy was not to accept gifts from anyone, so they were given to a local Chicago children's charity.
( Crappy Iphone Photos.... )
- Location:The Loop, Chicago
- Mood:
happy - Music:Eric Himan - We Are The Same
Dark chocolate is the culinary equivalent of my life right now.
The Sweet:
Unlike last year, the holiday season went surprisingly well for me. Zach had extended me the offer of spending time with his family on Christmas Eve, which is when they traditionally hold their festivities. So the day before I loaded up my car with all the presents for the season and trekked down to his neck of the woods in the driving snow. I arrived unharmed and immediately set to work trying to make myself comfortable in someone else's home for a holiday event. His brother, his sister in law, and their new born baby Claire had arrived a few days prior from Tulsa and this was my first opportunity to meet them. We shook hands and said our pleasantries and I felt immediately that I was going to enjoy their company and that it wouldn't be awkward at all for me. I even got to play with Claire for a bit, which is a big step for me considering how afraid I am of children (not scary afraid, fearful that I'll break them kind of afraid).
Christmas Eve we drove a few miles outside of his town to his Aunt's house, who was hosting the festivities for the day. It was a small house, crammed full of about 30 people. There was plenty of appetizers, holiday food, and drinks to go several times around, and I enjoyed the offerings a little bit more then I should have. It was really surprising to me how nonchalantly his extended family accepted my presence at the family gathering. I wouldn't say they were going out of their way to include me in all activities and conversations, but I didn't feel excluded or ostrasized either. After the large family gathering we piled back into our cars and returned to his family's house to do a more personal gift exchange. Zach really went above and beyond and gave me a Wii. Apparently when he heard me casually mention that I'd like to get one someday he made a mental note of it and bought it early at the end of November. His mother and his brother/sister in law all contributed by giving me Wii games to play on it. It seems a little cheesy but I was moved that they all thought of me and gave me gifts. I bought Zach's mom a calendar from one of her favorite artists, and his brother and sister in law a blu ray DVD player to go with their new PS3 they received. Zach made out like a bandit, receiving a new Macbook from him mother and he also seemed to really like the Nikon D40 that I bought him. He takes lots of photos on his mother's camera so I figured he might as well have his own to play with.
Christmas Day I spent with my own family, and it was fairly standard and lackluster. It was the typical gathering together, gorging on food and goodies, and then attempting not to fall asleep while everyone watched whatever children's DVD my cousins had received as a gift that year. It felt a little awkward to have enjoyed myself much more at Zach's family events then I did at my own, but that might be a mixture of enjoying the newness of an event and the nerves I had from being there.
New Year's eve went off without a hitch. The roommate's and I hosted a soiree for the evening, inviting the most awkward mismatch of people you could possibly imagine. We had straight couples, butchers, trannies, bartenders, theology majors, and an unsmiling angry black woman from Austin, TX. It worked itself out in the end and I'm fairly certain everyone enjoyed themselves. We actually missed the turning of the new year by a few minutes because Justin insisted that he saw someone he knew on the newcast on the ABC affiliate here and kept rewinding the telecast to confirm with everyone in the room whether or not it was infact our mutual friend (it wasn't, he was toasted). After a few rewinds he gave up, and neglected to fast forward or hit the "Live" button to get back up to speed. So when the count down to the new year came, and the whole room shouted out with drunken jubilation, it was 5 minutes too late. We only realized it after someone looked at their cell phone and said, "why is it 12:05?" Bygones.
I was able to ring in the new year in the company of some good friends and with a kiss from Zach. One of the better starts to year I've had in a good long while.
The Bitter:
About a week before Christmas my mother called me to let me know she was going to start the process of visiting apartments so she could officially leave my father. I took the news in stride, having known for a very long time that things weren't going so well for them, in addition to the numerous conversations we'd have in the past where she said eventually she'd be doing just this. Christmas Day she told me she'd found the place and wanted me to be present when she signed the lease since she'd never rented anything in her life. She'd feel better if I was there to notice any weird lease clauses, and to help her in case her English wasn't up to par to understand the legal terminolgy. I took this in stride too, I was happy to help her in whatever way she felt she need. I did all this in secret, being the only person my mother had trusted to share this information with. Traditionally in Japan the oldest son is marked as the care taker of the family, and as such I took up this mantle with determination and I faked my way through the holiday activities knowing full well what they'd all learn in a short week or two. My sister's birthday is December 28th, so I had to keep my secret even longer and fake my way through another family even. Mom didn't want to ruin Christmas for anyone, and she certainly didn't want to ruin my sister's birthday.
The deal was done on a Friday afternoon, and she even found it within her to come to dinner with Zach and I for the first time in our relationship. This marks the very first time my mother has met someone I was dating. I didn't go so far as to blatantly say, "this is my boyfriend", but it was generally understood that Zach and I are not just friends and my mother was friendly and inquisitive, and hugged him good by at the end of the evening. A few days letter I got a text message from my sister: "Secret keeper of the year goes to .... David." I knew she was probably hurt and upset that I'd known for so long and not said anything to either her or my brother, but there wasn't much I could do at that point, it wasn't my story to tell. Even though she knew it was coming for as many years as I did, my sister still cried quite a bit upon hearing the news. Apparently my brother seemingly took it in stride, but excused himself quickly to take a ride in the car and ended up pulling over to the side of the road and calling my sister on the phone to bawl. I hadn't found it in me to cry yet though.
Mom drove down to my Dad's parent's house personally to tell them the news. She said she loved and respected them too much to explain what was going on over the phone. They were upset by the news, with my grandmother saying she wasn't surprised, and my grandfather saying that he didn't want my mother to think that leaving my father meant leaving the rest of the family out of her life. They still loved her and thought of her as a daughter.
On New Years Eve, Zach and I woke up at 6 AM to drive up to my family's house and move my mother's belongings to her new apartment an hour away. I didn't initially want Zach to be there, but he offered his help and with just my siblings and my mother's two best friends we were short handed. He said he wanted to help, too. So we went, and we moved the little bits of my mother's life in the back of some trucks wrapped in red blankets. It was a little awkward, since everyone seemed to be in good spirits; laughing and chatting like it was a normal day. My father had opted to leave a few days prior and stay with his brother for a week. The loading was done fairly quickly and we drove down to my mother's new home and began the unloading process. After a long day of moving things back and forth, and stopping off at the local Meijer to pick up odds and ends, Zach and I finally said good bye to my mother (we were the last to go) and headed back to Chicago.
That's when I lost it. I think I needed to be the strong one for my family, for my mother who stayed for so long due to worry over how her children would react to her leave, for my sister who wears her heart on her sleeve, and for my brother who puts on a strong face but I know is hurting inside. I felt like my job had been done, and I could finally just let the reality of it all sink in. I sat in the car at the rest stop for a few minutes and just cried for a bit, Zach quietly sitting in the seat next to me holding my hand and letting me rest my head on his shoulders. And then I was done. Just like the move itself. Quick, clean, efficient.
So it's been an interesting start to the year. There were definitely some highlights and some lowlights, and I haven' t found my footing quite yet. I've got a man in my life who seems like he could be the beginning of some amazing things in my life. I have a mother who is embarking on a journey at a late stage in life but seems to be happy with her decision and thrilled at the prospect of starting over at 50. Either way, my life changed forever in the last month.
I'm just hoping that it's all for the better.
- Location:The Loop, Chicago
- Mood:
anxious - Music:Jazmin Sullivan - Bust Your Windows
My end of year bonus has given birth to it's inevitable off-spring: my brand new laptop. After the untimely demise of my desktop I figured I better upgrade and get myself a modern contraption that wasn't built in Indonesia with two sticks, a ball of twine, and a goat's liver. I am not the proud owner of a Toshiba ..... thing? I'm not very techie so that'll have to do for now. All I know is that it's got 17 inches of wonderment shining at me when I sign onto my AIM or email now, and I think it's all sorts of glittery and fun. It's also nice after almost two months to be able to access more then one thing at time since I'm not relegated to only using my Iphone for web stuff. I'm so pleased with my purchase I just might name it. We shall see.
The townhouse is fully decked in Christmas cheer, thanks in large part to the Martha Stewart of all roommates, Matthleen. I'm not sure if I discussed it before, but Justin and I decided that Matt was too masculine a name for him, so we added the "hleen" to fem it up a bit for him. It's a fitting nickname, he's embraced it like a champ. Matthleen and his homemaking skills in a single day managed to string all our Christmas lights around three balconys, put up one real 8 ft tree complete with coordnating decorations, created a Christmas village of three nativity scenes, a moving train, and ice skaters under said tree, trimmed the fire place with garland/lights and stockings, furnished a completely odd looking African American angel on our end table, and placed approximately 15 stuffed Christmas themed animals around the living room/kitchen area. The only thing missing is an inflatable Frosty for us to be added to the Christmas tour in Chicago. I'm sure Matthleen is cross stiching one as I type this.
The holiday party circuit has been going full swing. This weekend I found myself at two Christmas-ish soirees. The first was on Saturday night, where I accompanied my bestie Richard along with his boyfriend Esvan and their mutual friend Jeff to a house party on the western edge of the east side of Chicago (you follow that?). The unique thing about this even was that the majority of the people at the party were either completely deaf, hearing impaired, or sign language interpreters. This definitely meant that I felt mildly out of place at the event, but knowing myself I knew I'd end up having a good time and enjoying myself. Which I did. I learned some American Sign Language, things as useful as "my name is David" and "Hello" to the more gay friendly things as "you're handsome", "doggie style", and "rim job". All things I'm sure I'll use at least once in my life time. I also played my very first game of flippie cup, though being the non drinker I am I was chugging water instead of beer. It turns out I'm pretty freakin good at this game, though I'm guessing it's either correlated or a direct symptom of my use of water. I found out the next day that the leader of my flippie cup team was a 17 year old deaf girl who crashed the party and attended the high school one of the guys there taught at, but bygones right? I finished the night being driven home in good conversation with Richard and Esvan, and Jeff passed out from his gin and tonics in my lap.
Sunday night was the "Ho Ho Homo Christmas" extravegenza at Richard and Esvan's. It was a collection of a variety of people from both their lives, mostly gay, with one token straight couple, that wanted to fill their 16th floor condo overlooking the lake with cheer and good vibes. Which we did in spades I believe. It was a pot luck dinner, which I covered dutifully by giving Mathleen some money to pay for my 1/2 of the chili dip and taco dip that he made. Apparently he doesn't trust my cooking abiliites (which are amazing if I make the right things), so he volunteered and I was happy to let him shoulder the burden. Esvan and Richard provided everyone with amazing homemade pizzas, ranging from chicken and tomato to barbeque beef and green pepper. Everyone was stuffed and sated by the end of the first hour. The drinks started to flow a little bit and the Wii was brought out to entertain the guests. I teamed up with Jeff for the shuffle board tournament, and Zach teamed up with Chris. I'm not sure how we ended up on different teams, but the competition heated up and it ended up being a lot of fun. This was followed by a tennis tournament where I completely and totally dominated the field (save for one lose that was largely caused by Zach kicking me in the back of the leg for "good luck"). This pretty much concludes my holiday party itinerary, but they were entertaining none the less!
My mother is back from Japan, and while it's a complicated story this is the gist of what I learned:
1. My mother found her daughter/my half-sister.
2. She walked up to her house, and lost the nerve, and walked away without meeting her.
3. She plans on writing a letter to test the waters.
4. She has two children and is married, which in an instant makes me an uncle and my mother a grandma.
I'm not sure how I feel about any of that really. I'm happy my mom found her, I'm happy she's alive even. But the emptiness I felt knowing I had a sister that I didn't know is now compounded by the fact that I apparently have a niece and nephew that I don't know. And possible never will know, depending on how Sanae reacts to this outreach by my mother.
That's the update from my desk for now. I'm going to try to make an effort to write more often in my journal. I stepped away from it a bit to sort through some rough feelings, but I learned from that experience that my initial thoughts about using this as a method of working through my thoughts was correct. I dont' do so well when I don't write it all down.
- Location:The Loop, Chicago
- Mood: accomplished
- Music:Lady Gaga - Poker Face
I've enjoyed my time writing for the public and my friend's list to see, but in all honesty it's brought more trouble then it's been worth to put it all out there and interact with people around the country, and around the world. I started this journal for me, and left it open for other to see if they wanted. At this point, I'm going to take extra steps to ensure the original intent of the journal remains intact. Recent events have proven to me that not everyone who reads my journal and asks to be added to my friends list has the best of intentions, or are really in the end sane, stable, good people. With that in mind, I'm posting all my future entries to a very limited friends list that I know and trust. If you've been removed, I hope you don't take offense, I just don't know you well enough to know you're not in the same boat as those who have disrupted my life recently.
The social aspect of the website has introduced me to some great people, and if you'd like to keep in touch I invite you to do so using my email at leorawrs81@gmail.com, or through AIM at LeoRawrs81.
It's been great, and take care!
David
The 4 Things On My Mind On The Fourth Day of the Work Week:
1. Money is getting crazy lately. I currently bank with Washington Mutual, which if you hadn't been clued in, is in some pretty dire financial times with the recent collapse of the mortage industry and their excessive credit lending practices. The bank doesn't seem to be coming to an immediate end, but I wouldn't be surprised if they did in the near future, particulary with the recent reduction in their rating by the S&P. I only opened my bank account with WaMu a year ago after spending my entire banking life with a pretty shitty regional banking institution, and now I find myself needed to move to yet another bank. My accounts are obviously covered by the FDIC but I'm not looking to get involved in even the slightest bit of hassle should WaMu collapse. You'd think with all the swirling confusion in the financial industry someone would spend a little time talking about the not so craptastic places to trust with your money, as opposed to the wall to wall coverage of the failing ones? Chase and Bank of America are the two major banking centers in Chicago as far as I can tell, and my research seems to show they're at least semi-stable, unlike WaMu, though I could be wrong. My financial expertise is fairly limited. I'll probably end up going with BofA, mostly because I have a deep dislike for Chase.
2. The $700 bail out, which I have a sneaking suspicion will get through in some form or another, will make traveling overseas much harder in the future. Selling bonds to generate the funds for this initiative is going to further devalue the US dollar, as if it wasn't hard enough to plan my fun little imaginary getaways across the globe before this tranny mess enveloped the world. This combined with the fact that I went to get my brakes fixed on my car (which has been out of commission for a good 4 months) on Monday and found myself out about 1K even after negotiations and several estimates, I don't think 2008 will see my traveling to a foreign country at this point. One of my goals for the year was to leave the country, and at this point it's just not going to happen. Looks like 2009 will have to take up the mantle of being the year I leave the country since the Bahamas in 2004.
3. Canadians are getting on my nerves, which I'm sure is a crass statement but they actually have been annoying me, so I'll make it anyway. Not all Canadians, because there are a few that I know who are very agreeable and personable, it's just a few that I've had run ins with lately that seem to be toeing the line of actually making me want to almost slap someone. I went through a stage in high school were I didn't care for Canada much, it was just an impulsive gut reaction I had for some reason. Perhaps some childhood trauma related to maple trees or skiing? Who knows. As I got older, and started to meet actual Canadians in real life, my perception changed into one of appreciation and admiration. I enjoyed the novelty of how their government system functions, both in it's democratic similarities and in it's unique quirks that stand contrary to the American system. In the last two years, I've had extremely negative encounters with Canadians at times, which is putting my admiration and appreciation into jeopardy. It almost always revolves around their dislike of the US and American things. Which is within their right to dislike, and there is plenty about my own country that I find needs lots of updating, modificaition, and outright modernization in terms of opinions, moods, and laws. Admittedly, we're far from perfect.
I just find it supremely funny to be told how the rest of the world hates me and my fellow Americans because we are single-minded people who want everyone to conform to our standard of the way the world should work through our closeminded generalization of "others" and a condescending demeanor ...... by a Canadian who is being single-minded and wants me to conform to their standard of the way the world should work by generalizing Americans with a condescending demeanor. So you blast Americans for their awful behavior in a manner that mirrors the exact behavior you frown upon? I'm all about having allies on my side of the fence when I get on my soapbox to point out the flaws of my homeland, but the stench of high-and-mighty attitude and the look down the nose isn't welcomed. I work hard to make my country a better place to be, and I won't have anyone grouping me into any crazy mass of Americans who hate gays and Muslims and free healthcare. We're not all the same, don't talk to me like we are. I miss the friendly Canadians I met in college and the years after. They were smart and engaging, and I was able to have intelligent conversations where I usually agreed with them on the things the US needed to do to be a better place to live. I'm going to write Canada an open letter to ask them to send more friendly people across the border on a goodwill mission, and to keep the cranky, rude ones on their side of the border.
4. I think I might want to try moving out on my own, without roommates. It's been awhile since I lived alone, not since college at least. I just want to have my own space that I don't have to share with anyone else. No one to accuse me of not washing dishes often enough, no one to shave their legs in my bathtub, no one bringing random boys through the hallway at all hours of the night giggling and bumping uglies. Just me, myself, and I in my own space, my own home. After our lease is up next year, I think I'll strike it out on my own, and won't be living with someone again unless it's my boyfriend. I'll miss the expendable income, but sometimes you just have to find your own space. Who knows, we'll see where next August finds me.
- Location:The Loop, Chicago
- Mood:
aggravated - Music:Jennifer Hudson - Spotlight
A few posts back I mentioned how out of control my life felt, particularly since the main indication of my emotional state tends to manifest itself on my body as weight gain or loss. This summer's rollercoaster ride definitely had its outward effects on my body, and I'm happy to say that after some careful consideration I was 1/4 of the way on the road to recovery when I hopped on the scale this morning. It was good news, almost good enough to dance a little jig. Considering the painful situation occuring on my right foot at the moment, I thought better of that idea and decided to clap instead. Yes, I clapped. Shut your mouth.
While this in and of itself is a very good development, it also serves as a sign post on the road map of my life. A commitment to a healthier body weight and actually having success at the attempt is a clear indication of one thing: I'm ready to stick my toe in the shallow end of the dating pool.
I've already know this for a week or so now. I started idly surfing through a variety of gay themed dating/social networking sites with mild curiosity. There wasn't a strong intent on my end to find somebody, but if I saw an interesting picture or headline I would slow my roll for a moment and perhaps take a gander at what the guy had to say about himself. I'm not sure if the offering of men in Chicago is pretty slim, if I'm overly picky, or my mild interest in dating isn't large enough to translate into desire just yet, but there weren't many men that seemed like I'd want to get to know more about them. That didn't bother me much to be honest. Part of me is content with just looking at the menu right now, no need to order.
I've also made a few half-hearted attempts at meeting people in a chatting forum, which basically means I've logged into Gay.com and camped in a chat room while watching a movie before bed to see if anyone wants to say hello. Inevitably there are a few who do, of which 98% refer to my penis, my ass, or a strong urge to pee on me within 3 messages. The remaining 2% seem to be of this strange breed of online chatters who either has schizophrenia, short-term memory loss, or are much too busy multi-tasking the butt-loads of messages they're typing while folding laundry and cooking dinner to respond more then once every 10 minutes. Is it just me or is this whole mess just completely out of control? Not that I expected much from Gay.com to begin with, as a 27 year old man I know that my chances of finding someone genuinely interested in having a real conversation and perhaps having coffee/tea/caramels at some point is about as likely as the release of Battlefield Earth 2.
The only other option open to me is meeting someone not using the internet, such as at a bar, through a friend, or general happenstance. Ideally, this would be how I'd like things to play out, though it isn't without it's difficulties. As a non-drinker, non-smoker, and non-super partier, the times that I'm actually out in a bar in a month's time can be typically counted with a single finger. Even when I do find myself enjoying a night out with my friends, historically I haven't been the guy that people feel the need to come up to and speak to. In my 6 years of bar going, I have only been hit on in a bar twice, and both of those times it was by fairly undesirable drunken messes. Not that I'm saying I'm unattractive or unfriendly in a bar, because I don't think that's the case. I think that I'm just not the first choice for many bar goers. My gay friend pool is pretty limited, and within that pool I don't really think any of my friends would want to, or knows anyone who could, be set up on a date with me. Also, that would make things a little awkward if I were to get set up on a date and found myself loathing my dinner companion, or they loathing me.
I guess that leaves happenstance. Which is just a good a method of meeting someone as any. Maybe he'll bump into me while I pick up hummus in the vegetable aisle at Jewel. Maybe he'll see my picture online somewhere and drop me an email asking me if I'd like to chat. Maybe he'll parachute out of the sky on an erroneous sky diving adventure and land on my balcony. Who knows, because I certainly don't. What I do know is that the arrival of fall, the disappearance of the heat and humidity, and time to think and distance myself has created the right atmosphere to excite me about dating again and remain open to the idea.
Though not open to hunting it down like Sarah Palin and caribou. I'm more laid back about it then that.
- Location:The Loop, Chicago
- Mood: calm
- Music:Lily Allen - Alfie
The trip started off on a pretty rocky note. After a fairly uneventful journey on public transportation to the airport (unless you call a construction worker asking you to hold his tool belt so he can scratch his bulbous belly eventful), the check-in line was nonexistant and the security was surprisingly smooth. Boarding started right on time and for some odd reason I was the first person to get onto the aircraft. I jaunted down the aisle full of energy and excitement to be getting away from Chicago, plopping myself down in my emergency exit aisle seat with extra leg room that I had somehow managed to get without upgraded. So far it was the best flying experience I'd had to date. That all changed when I was confronted a few minutes later with my aisle seat mate.
If you've ever watched the TV show Airline on the A&E channel, you'll know that my comrade in air travel was what Southwest airlines (which I wasn't flying on, but still....) calls a "passanger of size". I don't mean to be offensive when I say that, because being an individual who has been of a considerable size himself at one point in his life, I don't particularly enjoy jokes that are tailored toward insulting those "of size". As soon as he sat down next to me, though, I knew without a doubt that I could not last the 2 hour flight to Atlanta with him next to me. His leg ended at the 1/2 way point of MY seat, having sprawled under and forcing the arm rest up into the air. I was literally propped up with my leg on top of his leg, leaning at a 45 degree angle approximately 5 inches from the head and shoulders of the gentleman in the window seat. The wide eyed looks of the people still boarding the plane as they walked down the aisle past us assured me that I was not over-reacting to the situation by thinking this wasn't A) comfortable, B) safe, or C) doable. The way his leg creeped into my side of the seat literally made it impossible for me to buckle my seatbelt because his thigh was covering the receptor.
Out of politeness I held my protests though, knowing it wasn't in me to tell him he was simply too large to be sitting next to me. Luckily a flight attendent noticed the situation and after some discreet whispering in the man's ear, relocated him to a row of seats in the rear of the plane with no other passangers. I had an odd, throbbing back pain the remainder of my trip in Georgia, and I have a sneaking suspicion it was from the awkward lean against the other arm rest his intrusive leg caused for the 45 minute prior to take off. The flight to Atlanta, with my spacious leg room in the emergency row and the added comfort of having an empty seat with relocation of the other gentleman, was very pleasant.
On the ground in the ATL I met up with my wonderful host for all my trips to Dixie, Tommy, and we jetted off down the freeway in his land yacht (A.K.A. Ford Expedition) for the Marietta Diner. I've never heard of it, but apparently it's a dining institution in the Atlanta area and has been recently featured on the Food network. The sandwich I had was pretty standard, but when it came time to order dessert my mouth began to water with eager anticipation when the largest slice of red velvet cake I have ever had the good fortune of laying sight up was placed on the table. It was delicious. Baked sex. Culinary cocaine. It was larger then life, and as much as me, Tommy, and his boyfriend BJ attacked it with forks at hand we were soundly defeated by the savory grandness of it all.
That night we hit up Turner Field for an Atlanta Braves game. The grounds themselves were interesting, particularly when you compare them to Wrigley Field, which is a mere 5-ish blocks from my house. They were sprawling and expansive, designed to hold quite a few people and sell them lots of things. I think that's why I disliked most about Turner Field: it felt more like a shopping mall then a sporting venue. The overtly commerical aspect of everything Turner related (CNN, Cartoon Network, etc...) seemed designed to provide an opportunity to take money from me at in every nook and cranny of the stadium. I guess Wrigley Field probably does the same thing, but if it does, I feel like the push and the blatant nature of it all seems much less in my eyes. The game was fairly uneventful, with the Braves actually posting a win for my visit. So far Georgia teams are 2-0 when I have attended their games, which leads me to believe I'm a bit of a good luck charm for the Peach State!
Friday was a low key day. I slept in till around noon, and Tommy went into his office for a 1/2 day of administrative tasks. When he arrived back at his apartment we quickly found ourselves out and about in the city of Athens to enjoy the predictably hot and humid weather. We went to a nature preserve called Bear Hollow, and lazily wandered up and down some paved trails through the woods, occasionally stopping to glance into the cages that housed some animals from the area. We gazed upon quite a few owls, an alligator, a bald eagle, and an actual bear. At leat now I know where the park gets it's name. The bear was so cute, considering he was sprawled out on a platform sunbathing himself, only half awake as he yawned, stretched, and scratched himself. He really reminded my of Kaleb in some ways, expect he could kill me and Kaleb just pisses on my area rugs.
The 2nd half of the day was spent at the State of Georgia's Botanical Gardens. The sun was really starting to beat down on us at this point, and with sweaty brows and sticky polos we wandered up and down the paths of the park gazing the assorted flora. I, naturally, was intrigued by the Asian section of the gardens. They had erected a torii gate in the middle of it, which thrilled my Japanese side to no end. Mentally I made a note that this was the state's way of thanking me for being their lucky sports charm. You're welcome Georgia!
Saturday was what has become a yearly tradition for me and Tommy: attending the opening football game of the University of Georgia! I had a great time doing this last year, and this year proved no different. It was particularly interesting because over the summer the school's mascot, Uga VI, had passed away. They revealed for the first time the new school mascot, aptly named Uga VII, to a roaring capacity crowd of over 92,000 fans. The game itself proved to be fairly uneventful (last year's was too) since the opponent, Georgia Southern, was playing on a completely different level of the game and found themselves behind by about 40 points at half time. The thing I found most interesting about the game as the racial dynamics of it all.
Even though the state of Georgia is estimated at 67% white, there is still a sizable 30% that is estimated as African American. Each football game I've been to at UGA has always been a neverending sea of white faces though. With the make up of the fooball team being fairly evenly divided between white and black players, I've always been curious as to why the white population is the only one to show up, or why the black population feels like it shouldn't show up. Which isn't to say there aren't some black attendees, because there were. They were just so few that they actually stood out in my mind. In the middle of the 3rd quarter they stadium speakers blared out some hip hop music as the UGA players took the field, with some of the sidelined players dancing to the rhythm of the song. The man sitting next to me shouts out, "Look at that, just embarassing. Why we pretend they're like us and civilized is beyond me", to which the couple behind him said, "Well they can play some football though, so I guess we'll just learn to like it." Now I know.
It was a disquieting event, though I didn't want it to ruin the rest of my vacation. My mother gets scared enough when I mention I'm going to Georgia, since even though she's Japanese and not too familiar with American history, rumors of "the South" are well known enough even in Tokyo to make her uneasy about her half-Asian son. I've never felt threatened or judged while in Dixie though, so that is a plus on my end. I can't say I haven't seen or heard others being singled out for harassment though. Oh, and when I checked out at the Kroger the cashier did say, "Have a good day, GRACIAS!" I didn't get it first, and then a few seconds later it dawned on me that he thought I was Latino. LOL!
That evening Tommy invited a few of his friends over for a small gathering to chit chat, drink, and play some board games, which was just the chill event I needed to calm down from the riotous activity that consituted that afternoon at the football game. We all giggled and laughed with glee, enjoying the company of each other and doing our best to defeat all opponents in Taboo and Scattegories. There was a round of Trivial Pursuit but that game takes forever and we ended up just calling it quits for the moment. I really enjoy his friends, and each year that I come back they become more interesting to just kick back with and discuss life and times. They've always been very friendly, open, and welcoming to me, and I appreciate that about them to no end. It's almost like being at home while away from home, and there really isn't anything more you can ask of people then that.
Monday we headed back to Atlanta for a quick lunch with
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
mankelly ! I've "known" Kelly for quite a few years, since we read each other's journals when we were just young men finding our ways through the exciting world of college, so it was a special treat to meet him in person and actually have a conversation. He's just as charming, handsome, and dashing as he comes across on his journal, let me assure you. We didn't do anything too fancy, meeting up at the California Pizza Kitchen in Atlantic Station for some grubbing and gabbing. I even managed to make him smile a little, I think! 
After a short hour of good conversation my trip to Georgia had to come to a close, and I said my goodbyes to both Kelly and to dear Tommy as I pulled my rolling luggage behind me through Atlanta's Hartsfield International. The flight home was, by contrast to the relatively enjoyable flight in, a completely hot mess. I won't get into too much detail but I'll sum it up with: angry, loud lesbians taking up 1/2 the plane on their way home from Black Pride 2008, leaky air conditioning on my shirt/face/Ipod/book, broken overhead compartment, ditzy flight attendant.
A uncomfortable, though very interesting, end to my mini-vacation.
More trip photos available at: My Flickr
- Location:The Loop, Chicago
- Mood: happy
- Music:Mariah Carey - I Stay In Love
I don't talk politics often, mostly because even though I'm pretty solid Democrat, I often find myself defending Republicans to my more liberal-minded friends and it gets tiresome and annoying. If, as a Democrat, I find it offensive that some conservatives might want to attach labels to people without getting to know them (gays are bad, blacks are criminals, Latinos are illegal), I must dutifully be offended when liberals paint conservatives with the same brush (Christians hate gays, conservatives want to invade every piece of land on Earth). Extremist sentiment on either side of the aisle annoys me to no end, so I avoid discussing politics for the most part to keep my sanity intact.
Then along came Palin.
I can honestly say that it's been a very long time since I can say I was honestly this upset, angry, and offended by a political "development". The selection of Sarah Palin as the Vice Presidential nominee, under any other circumstance, wouldn't have ruffled many feathers on my head. A staunchly conservative, anti-abortion, pro-oil industry, bear hunting, ice fishing, former beauty queen is pretty much the ideal choice for a left of center Republican candidate to team up with to even out his ticket. This isn't a normal circumstance though, because the McCain campaign and it's party proxies have spent the entire last year leveling the exact same line of criticism against their potential and eventual rival, Barack Obama, with mechanical precision: he doesn't have the experience.
And they're right. Obama does not, no matter how you try to spin it, have the same level of experience and leadership that some of the other candidates in the Democratic field have had. From this stand point, as much as it might annoy Obama supporters, the Republicans have raised a valid question about this candidates suitability to hold the highest office in the land. Having a valid question and a valid smoking gun fault are two entirely different things, thoguh. Whether or not having held a position or office in the limited number of governmental positions that seems to bestow this elusive "experience" (a governorship? for two terms minimum? extended time in the US Senate? what's the threshold?) onto someone is the most pressing of qualifications is for the public to decide. My personal opinion is that experience is helpful, but isn't a mission-critical asset that is a mandatory requirement to be President. Effective leaders can come from all walks of life, and I can only imagine what our history might look like if some of our greatest Presidents and social leaders were told to get back in line to do another term in the Senate before thinking they can DO something.
For this presidential cycle the Republicans have taken the line that experience DOES matter as a qualification for this office though, and consequently the choice of Mrs. Sarah Palin is without a doubt the most mindnumbingly ridiculous choice the McCain camp could have made. I could spend my time telling people that with 4 years as head of my dorm's student government, 2 years as captain of the Academic team, and my stint as Homecoming Prince that I have just as much "executive experience" as Palin. I could spend my time telling you that as a federal grant manager my work load consists of a larger monetary amount then what my public records peeking has discovered is the operating budget of Wasilla, AK. I could spend my time telling you how I plan to sail out into the northern Pacific Ocean and find the first uninhabited speck of land, declare it the 51st state, and draw state border lines that creep over to Japan/Russia, down toward Hawaii, and east to Canada/Washington, and let you all know that I am therefore Governor-elect of the "largest state in the Union, Alopikatoa Island, where our state consists of 76% mineable coal and tappable natural gas, which apparently makes me an expert on energy policy".
But I won't. Because honestly, it doesn't matter to me. Mrs. Palin can be us unexperienced in foreign policy, global warming, and financial planning as the head cheerleader at the University of Kansas for all I care, because as I stated before I don't think it's a fundamental requirement to hold the elected office.
What I find intolerable is the hypocracy of the McCain campaign and the Republican party faithful (and trust me, not all of them are on board) who are lining up to follow this Pied Piper act. You cannot, and I repeat CANNOT, spend your entire campaign mandating that experience is a vital and neccasary component to the Presidential office and then turn around and select someone who realistically has less then or equal experience as your opponent to be your 2nd string. Again, not because experience IS vital, but because you said it WAS. Even if you consider the sketchy level of executive experience they are touting Palin as having as more substancial then those touted as being held by Obama, it still doesn't come anywhere near the threshold Republicans have set for themselves as being needed to be an executive of the United States of America. You are failing to meet your OWN standards. You are back-pedaling on the knowledge, skills, and abilities that YOU have claimed are needed to be a qualified candidate, and all the while using the same set of standards to tear down your Democratic rival. If that isn't pure and blatant malarky, I don't know what is.
It's a complete and total charade to dance around stating that Palin has more experience then Obama, when the reality of the situation is that it's less then or equal to it. Being the Mayor of Wasilla, AK is supposed to be more substancial then being a Illinois State representative? Wasilla, AK has less people then my high school had in 1999. Being Governor for 2 year of the state of Alaska is more experience then being one of the US Senators from Illinois for 4 years? Alaska has the same population as 1/4 of the city of Orlando, FL , 1/5th of the city of Chicago, and 1/19 of the population of Illinois (if I did my math right, which I probably didn't). I'm not here to belittle the experience Mrs. Palin has, because they are admirable positions and accomplishments. Let's keep some parity in the discussion though, and possible invite realism to the table as well. You can honor the accomplishment of Palin without maligning the substancial work Obama has done in his equally short career.
While I had decided not to vote for John McCain prior to his selection of Sarah Palin, I still (despite what others Democrats might think of him) respected him as a candidate for the office. Campaigns are a battle of personalities, and both sides highlight the extreme character flaws of their rivals with elan and glee. John McCain wasn't the foaming at the mouth hate-monger that many of his detractors claimed him to be. Having a different plan and strategy to make America a more secure and stable country doesn't make you a bad person. McCain didn't want to run this country into the ground, drag us into needless wars, or leave the poor in the dust. I honestly believe he thinks his ideas are the best course of action for the country, even if I respectfully disagree. Obama says we need to learn to disagree agreeably, and that's something many of his supporters still need to take to heart.
After Sarah Palin's selection, John McCain has to take on the title of hypocrite. Being elected President of the United States is an honor that few are able to obtain, but I'd like to hope that those who seek the office, regardless of party affiliation, can do so with dignity and integrity, standing by the principles and policies they've outlined. McCain has tarnished this beyond repair in my eyes at this point. No longer do I feel compelled to temper the venom liberal friends throw at him, because lately it's all been Palin-centric and they're right. This selection was inexcusible. It literally turns my stomach at how stupid the McCain campaign takes the American public for, and I literally want to vomit now that I realize that some of them really ARE that stupid.
I'm also disappointed, so far at least, in a Democrat: Hillary Clinton. Have I missed her rebuttle to this mockery, or is she on vacation? For her to have professed her commitment to the Democratic campaign, her support for Obama, and her willingness to do what it takes to put a Democrat in office this November, I find it tellingly silent on her end. To let the Republican offensive line parade Clinton's historic run for the White House around the morning talk show circuits and the pundit four-square gig on every news channel in America as evidence that the Democrats are a pack of sexist woman-haters without once standing up to say "Woah, I don't think that's entirely true" lets me know that Clinton's loyalties lay with herself, not her party and her country. No matter how wronged she felt she was, to sit on the sidelines while staffers and cronies fill the airwaves with blatantly false accusations does a disservice to her party and a disservice to the American public. I'm glad I made the choice to support Obama in the primary, because all her rhetoric about putting the citizen first seems rather empty now. I hope she comes out in the next day or two to prove me wrong, but it already seems too long to have remained this silent.
Ultimately, you should have stuck to your guns. You should have played by your rules. You should have stayed honest and kept your integrity. And whether you lose or win, John McCain, I'll never look at you the same. You've shamed your party, and you've shamed the American public. I hope you're happy.
- Location:The Loop, Chicago
- Mood:
angry - Music:Eric Himan - Heart Clean
It was a little awkward for me, mostly because I'm the first newly hired employee here in several years, and the person who passed away had been here for over 30, as has most of the staff. I attended out of respect for him, because even though I didn't know him all that well professionally, and certainly didn't know him personally, he was someone who stuck out in my mind when I thought of work, and I owed it to him to be there. He was "that guy" in the office who always had the gigantic smile on his face and the belly laugh you heard in every meeting. Whenever I passed him in the hallway or bumped into him on our way through the men's room, he would smile and look me in the eye and ask me how my day was going. I was shocked when I found out he had passed away, and so horribly, too.
I'm an emotional person at my core, and it was difficult to sit through the 1 1/2 hours of person after person sharing their memories of him without crying. Even though I didn't know him that well, my co-workers did, and it was a deep and personal connection that they had with him. Tears flowed pretty easily from many eyes, and the speeches were often given with heartfelt conviction and strained voices. I want to cry because even though I personally didn't lose any connection with him you could feel in the room how massive a loss it was to everyone who had gathered there. The room was draped in sadness, anguish floated about the room like cigarette smoke, teardrops rained down on spirits that were already carpeting the floor.
The man who sat next to him for the last 30 years told a really great story about Ray. He said he'd always hear him talking to his wife on the phone, and how he never called her by her name, but insisted on using the term "hon". Last month he heard a change in the typical conversation, where he subsituted sweetie for hon. When the conversation was over, my coworker marched over to Ray's desk to give him a hard time. "Don't you know that married men aren't supposed to call their wives sweetie after the first year of marriage?" He said that Ray looked at him with the deepest of conviction and seriousness and replied, "She'll always be my sweetie." His wife broke down and started to sob uncontrollably right then.
It was the saddest sound I have ever heard in my entire life.
My co-worker looked at her with tears streaming down his face and said, "I know it's hard for you to hear, but I couldn't not tell this story. I want you to know how much he loved you." Dry eyes were a rare commodity in the room at that point, and my co-worker shuffled back to his seat and sank into it as if the weight of the world were on his shoulder. The office has been very somber today, with very little laughter or cheerfulness, and when you do hear any laughter it's always related to someone telling a story about how happy and silly Ray was.
No one I have been close to has ever passed away. I've been to funerals before, but they were always for someone tangent to my life, who I didn't have any deep or personal connection to. I am absolutely dreading the day that it happens, because I'm emotional enough at events like these, I can only imagine what kind of a crazy basketcase I'll be if one of my friends or family passes away.
Goodbye Ray, you'll be missed, even if it is just for your smiling face across the table on a conference call. You always made the day a little brighter.
- Location:The Loop, Chicago
- Mood:
sad - Music:Lee Ann Womack & Willie Nelson - Mendocino County Line
Which also isn't to say that I didn't enjoy my weekend trip to Atlanta. It really was a welcomed break from all the happenings in Chicago lately. I'll probably do my best to give an indepth retelling of my five days in the Peach state, but for some reason today isn't the day for me to do so. I haven't been in much of a writing mood as of late, which is very rare for me. I love to write. Writing is the vehicle I use to get everything off my chest in a single, cleansing swoop. Lately I've suffered form a severe form of writer's block, and I know it's because I'm not really in the best of mental frames lately.
I've withdrawn a little from my social life. Screening class when I don't need to, decline invitations to hang out with some of my friends. I've not become a recluse, but at the same time I'm not exactly functioning on the same social level that I typically find myself in. My eating habits in the last month have gotten completely out of control, because as a coping mechanism I tend to increase my caloric intake to insane levels. Consequently I've gained over 10 lbs and that seems to feed into the vicious cycle of me not being happy and wanting to eat more. My health isn't the best either, since I've had a recurring foot issue that won't seem to go away, and the lack of exercise that is the side effect of my foot ailment isn't helping me to minimize the damage of my new diet.
Overall, I recognize I have let myself get a little out of control on the emotional train that I've been riding lately. I took the break up with Jake pretty hard and I still haven't gotten to a point where I'm perfectly okay with how everything went down and how I feel about it, but I'm doing much better then I was two months or even 2 weeks ago. Today marks the start of me trying to re-establish control of myself. There are a lot of things I can't control in this world, from who loves me, to who wants to hire me, to who wants to be friendly with me. Those are all things that are out of my hands, but my control over my weight, and my control over my self.
I'm just frustrated lately.
- Location:The Loop, Chicago
- Mood: frustrated
- Music:Solange - I Decided (Freemasons Remix)
I'm mildly introverted in terms of my personality lately, and that hasn't lended itself toward making me exciting about writing. I'm still going out and enjoying myself with my friends, but I won't lie and say that a good portion of my time isn't spent lately doing a lot of old fashioned pondering. There is so much swirling around in my head lately that I'm fairly certain the National Weather Service will soon name it's next hurricane after the mess up there.
My mother has finalized her plans to head out to Japan, and the 2 1/2 week jaunt is well outside my available resources at this time. Air fare is prohibitively expensive, but the hotel fees for that time frame sky rocket into Lindsay Lohan salary ranges, and this little old federal employee is going to have to wish his mother the best of luck from O'Hare in November. I'm going to give her most of the money I managed to scrounge up for the trip though. She'll be heading over to Japan over her birthday, and I know she'll need it more then a new bathrobe or fuzzy slippers. Of course as soon as I make the decision not to head out over the Pacific, an opportunity to cross the Atlantic falls into my lap. Justin has been casually talking about flying over to London for a year now, mostly because one of his good friends from home is living there while in University, which translates into us having a free place to stay while there. He's never really done much in terms of planning it out though, so I never took him seriously. He decided to end his 8 month long relationship with is boyfriend last week though, and consequently decided he needs a "sabbatical" and is now flying to London in October and is harassing me relentlessly about going with him.
London would be awesome, even if October really isn't the best time to be in the UK (though theoretically speaking, I'm fairly certain the weather there is only good for about 2 weeks a year anyway....), but I don't think I'll be ready to go when he wants. I'm giving all that money to my mother to help her find my sister, and I don't even have a valid passport right now. It doesn't seem financially or bueracratically do-able at the moment. So Tokyo will have to wait. And so will London.
The only trip that is still on the table is my jaunt to Atlanta tomorrow. I always seem to have the knack of taking a vacation or trip when things in Chicago seem to start piling up and overwhelming me. I haven't packed a single thing yet, and I have absolutely no idea how I am going to be getting to the airport in the morning, but all these things can wait till later tonight. Atlanta promises to be a relaxing trip though. I'll be attending the Brave's game at Turner Field tomorrow night, and the opening home football game for the University of Georgia on Saturday. They're introducing their new mascot as the previous bulldog, Uga, passed away recently. I hope it's a puppy, because God knows I go wild for puppies! I'm not really sure what the rest of my time will consist of, but hopefully lots of activities that take my mind of all my stresses here at home. I might even get the chance to meet the infamous
mankelly after almost 8 years of long distance communcation!
One of my co-workers passed away last night. I came into the office this morning and wondered why it was so quiet, and no one was around. Apparently just before I came in the managers made the rounds and gathered everyone who was already at work into a conference room and told them the news about how he'd passed. They sent an email out right after the meeting and that's how I heard. I wasn't close to Ray or anything, but we always spoke to each other when we passed in the halls or were in meetings together. He was a very happy individual, full of belly laughs and smiles, and someone I honestly believed was a good person. It's hard to have the starkness of life thrown in your face when you least expect it. The juxtaposition of Ray's passing and my mother's attempts to settle her life affairs as she gets older is equal parts revealing and disquieting. It's cliche, but life really is short. These two events are really a good motivator for me to pursue my career goals, start to plan out all the traveling I want to do so I can see the world, and to move forward in my personal life, both with friendships and with romance.
"At the temple, there is a poem called 'Loss' carved into a stone. It has three words, but the poet has scratched them out. You cannot read loss, you just feel it." - Memoirs of a Geisha
- Location:The Loop, Chicago
- Mood: sympathetic
- Music:Rihanna - Disturbia
It's rubbing me the wrong way, and each successive rub has left me grumpier and grumpier. Which isn't to say I'm walking around like the Incredible Hulk, eyes zoned out and foaming at the mouth with rage, but there is an underlying disenchantment lately that's been quick to surface at the slightest bristle. A mild Dr. Jeky & Mr. Hyde syndrome, where I'm perfectly pleasant but any minor annoyance sets me into an immediate frown.
It's all little things, too. Political pundits making silly remarks on TV about things that are entirely irrelevant to the upcoming election. Off color comments on Livejournal I've read in other people's posts that make light of rape or racism. People who champion a cause with so much vigor and self-righteousness that they end up doing the same thing the rally against to other people. The accumulation of a 1000 little pin pricks can manifest itself as a significant wound. I'm not sure why I'm so sensitive, but sensitive is definintely what I am for now.
I'm generally a very happy person with a positive outlook on other people, but I've been disappointed by multiple people on small levels for a few weeks now. I had a fight with someone I considered to be a friend over some thinly veiled comments that I perceived as passive-aggresive cuts. In hindsight the fight seems on par with the fight Justin Timberlake and Ashton Kutcher are having about who made the trucker hat fashionable in terms of stupidity. Pride does funny things to people though, and as we cut each other out of our lives, I can't help but feel we've both cut ourselves down a notch in our level of maturity.
I think what it boils down to is the inability of people to take criticism. I read a book in college called "democracy.com" which detailed how technology has changed the face of democracy and what it will mean in for people in the future. The most interesting assertion made by the author of the book was that the use of technology in our everyday lives has driven people apart, made them less accepting of other people, and generated anti-social behaviors among a variety of groups of people. Essentially, techology has made us more hateful toward one another, less likely to listen to opposing view points, and more reactionary when it comes to our reactions.
The internet lets you seek out likemineded individuals. If you're gay you can join gay groups, talk with gay people, and read gay news. If you're a Christian you can join Christian groups, talk with other Christians, and read Christian-centric news. The same goes for Democrats, Republicans, Muslims, Americans, Canadians, etc... Technology has made it possible to insulate yourself in a sea of similar thoughts and affirming ideas; you listen to louder echoes of your own voice. No more challenges, no more criticism. Don't like the guy who said you were being rascist on your blog? Block the user. Don't like the Republican economic stimulus plan? Customize your RSS for Democratic only news. Tunnel vision. People don't think about "the other" as a person anymore. They're just a voice that needs to be ignored. Which means I can judge you and pigeon-hole you into whatever category I want, without getting to know you, without listening to you.
There are holes to this theory, though I do think there is some relevance to what the author was suggesting. I don't really think I've been ignored/judged/pigeon-holed lately, but I've seen people doing it to others on such a regular basis that it's slowly wittled down my enjoyment this summer. I'm just frustrated that there isn't much I can do to change the outlooks of some people in this world. They're going to hate and ignore whomever they want, and the fact that it's become so easy to do doesn't mitigate the issue whatsoever.
I recently voluteered with an organization that assists refugees who are resettling here in Chicago, offering my servces as a youth tutor and pre-arrival coordinator. It's a faith-based Christian charity. I've gotten some crap from a variety of sources about helping with a Christian group that has such a negative view of gays. I guess I wonder if shunning them and living in my own little gay world with like minded individuals would be the right response to their ignorance, or if working with the group toward a goal that both they and I think is admirable might be just the insight they need to crack the mind and let light fall into the darkness? I'm banking on the old fashioned approach.
- Location:The Loop, Chicago
- Mood:
uncomfortable - Music:Mariah Carey - For The Record
Just like any other day, yesterday morning began with the painfully redundant sound of my alarm clock smacking my metaphorical self from my restful slumber. I yawned and stretched, gave the Shiba a thorough tummy rub to say "Good Morning", and promptly plopped myself down at my computer to continue my morning ritual by checking my email. Not much was waiting for me, but I did spy an oddly titled email asking me to mark my calendar. I opening it up, and discovered that this group of individuals who had emailed me were claiming to be former classmates of mine and were planning our 10 year high school reunion.
Has it really been that long? A few months back I did a blog post where I wrote a letter to myself at 17, and that was an emotional and introspective look at my life over the last 10 years, but this still struck me as odd. It seemed like it wasn't too far in the past that I was gathering up my physics books and dashing down the hall to make it to my 2nd period on time. Being 27 seemed like such a far away time and place back then, but there I was sitting in a creeky chair wearing nothing but sport trunks and a groggy expression having it stare me in the face. I guess one of the harder lessons in life as you get older is probably that time really does speed up. I'd wager that it probably has more to do with the activity in your life and the level of importance things have. When I was 17, getting to work on time at Aeropostale and making sure my US History essay was written were important, but in the back of my mind was always the knowledge that in the grand scheme of things, it was small potatoes. Ten years later my major concerns are figuring out how to pay for grad school, making the most out of my career, the dissolution of my family structure, and finding someone to be the tender keeper of my heart. Ten years makes a world of difference, whether you think it's long or short.
High school was a "fun" time for me, but I wouldn't say it was the most enjoyable. Everyone has a bit of an awkward phase in those years, and mine were sufficiently awkward. I started my freshman year with more then a comfortable amount of acne disfiguring my face, and topping this all off with the fact that I'd just moved from a small school in Japan to an enormous public school system in the Chicago suburbs wasn't exactly a good transition. My big shoulders and beefy build drew the attention of the football coaches, who were absolutely convinced I'd make a great addition to their team. I knew better, but of course my father didn't and I found myself signed up and geared up for some uncomfortable times. It lasted for a single season, where I never played, and that was the end of my glorious football career. I changed schools my sophomore year, and though the transition was smoother I still found it difficult to fit into a groove at the time. This was the time where I did my best to blend into the background and become another face in the sea of children in the halls. It didn't work out so well, since this was the time my academic prowess seemed to catapult me to the forefront of my peers and my teachers started making a point out of publically praising me and asking me to show other students how to do things.
My Junior and senior year is when I finally decided to just say "fuck it" and do what I wanted to do. I got my first job, first at a women's shoe store (a story in itself....) and then at a clothing store. I started writing for the school newspaper to give myself an outlet for the interest I had in writing that eventually developed into me documenting my thoughts and life in this blog. I ponied up and captained the school's academic team, competiting in Jeopardy style contests around the Chicago-land area and twice being named to the All-State team. I conquered my fear of being the gay guy on a sports team and joined the newly formed men's volleyball squad. I made friends and had plenty of laughs. I was by far not a popular student among my peers, but I was at least well liked and avoided the constant ridicule and hate mongering that can plague so many people's high school years. Graduation time finally arrived, and when I walked across the stage to accept my diploma I thought I was on my way to being a well-rounded guy.
College was two steps forward and three steps back in a lot of ways. The majority of this time was spend grappling with the implications of my sexuality and what it meant to me, my friends, my peers, and my family. I knew I was gay in high school, which was easily deduced by the number of crushes I had on guys in those crucial years. It wasn't until college that I started focusing more of my attention onto what it would mean for my life going forward though. The first concious decision I made in regards to my sexuality was to get as far away from my father as possible, which explained my applications to USC, Stanford, the US Naval Academy (his choice, but far away AND full of men in uniforms? Okay!) and American University. All of them were safely on the opposite sides of the country from my Midwestern home. When the acceptance letters came in, it was a hard decision. Palo Alto? Los Angeles? Annapolis? Weighing the financial aid and my major, I decided to head off to Washington, DC, and I still think it was the best decision.
Over my four years of college I blossomed into my sexuality. My early experiences didn't really end in the best of memories. Lots of tragic missteps and people who wanted to take advantage of my naive nature and wide eyed wonder. It took some time, but in the years since college I've been able to use those experience as the fuel for a stronger, more clear and stable romantic outlook for my life. I'm not perfect, but I'm in better shape then I was then. I took a job as a Resident Assistant that helped me come out of my shell in leaps and bounds. Suddenly I was the focal point for a lot of activity and attention with a variety of people, and I had to learn pretty quickly how to be in the spotlight and not shy away from it like a meek wallflower. I started joining campus groups, like the Asian Pacific American Coalition (APAC), the Global Forum, and became involved with student government peripherally. This sudden upswing in involvement culminated into my crowning as the Homecoming Prince for that year's celebration. I surely wasn't Homecoming King, because we all know that had to go to the President of the coolest fraternity on campus, but just the fact that I was selected to represent the student body for the entire week of events on campus was an honor and something I'll remember for the rest of my life. It was the moment I finally felt like I was "normal". Gay, fat, or nerd, I was still socially adept enough to be well-liked and popular, and as shallow as it makes me, I liked it.
My time since then is pretty well documented in my recent posts and thoughts. I've continued my arc of growth, and I'd like to think that for the most part I've stayed on an upward trajectory. I don't think I'd be ashamed to walk through the door at the reunion and tell people what I've accomplished in my time since graduation. Sure, there are things I'd like to say, like I'm the ambassador to China, or that I'm happily married, or that I'm a multi-millionaire who invented post-its, but the body of work I've assembled through working on myself is pretty decent in it's own right.
It's only a year away, but this email gave me an opportunity to reflect on my life (like I never do that.....) and take a mental inventory of the successes and failures I've had in the last 10 years. I'm doing good, no matter what others, or even myself at times, might think.
- Location:The Loop, Chicago
- Mood: happy
- Music:Jason Mraz - I'll Do Anything
My Obachan doesn't speak any English, so communication with her would be fairly difficult if I went alone. With this in mind, and knowing my mother jumps at any opportunity to see her faltering sister, I shot off a quick email letting her know that I had found really good airfare to Seattle and was wondering if she'd like to join me in heading out that way in late November. I even offered to buy the ticket for her, since it would be right around her birthday. I started making the plans here in the office to take the time off, since I was 98% sure my mom would be elated by the chance to see her sister again. Surprise, surprise, she hit me back almost immediately with an email declining my offer.
"Hi Son ^0^ ~ I like to go but I cannot. It is secret but I going back to Japan that time in November. I talk to you more about it tonight I call you. Sorry."
Needless to say, this email sparked a bit of curiousity in me. Going back to Japan? Permanently? For a mini-vaction? Sightseeing? Is John McCain really that scary? The phone call would have to wait and the rest of the day would be filled with nail biting and trepidation. When the time finally came and I spoke with her, all became clear, though not neccasarily in a way that would calm me. She's going back to Japan to find my sister. No, the perky blonde highlighted sorority girl who just graduated from college named Monica did not run off to Japan. She's talking about my other sister.
*dream swirls*
Once upon a time in Osaka, there was a young Japanese girl from Shikoku fell in love with a young Japanese boy. Confessing their undying love for one another, the boy proposed to the girl and they found themselves embarking on a life of happily wedded bliss and welcoming the arrival of a little baby girl. Then out of no where, tragedy struck the youthful lovers. The girl found herself taken with a mysterious illness, leaving her weak and frail, completely bedridden in a hospital room for months. The doctors tried and tried, but no amount of testing or research was able to alleviate the sickness that tormented her body. Having done all they could, the doctors announced they didn't see her making it for much longer. There was nothing they could do. She struggled with the news for awhile, but eventually came to terms with her impending death. As fate would have it, this was the junction at which she began to feel better. As time rolled forward, so did her health, and without much explanation the doctors wondered in amazement how this mysterious illness had suddenly receded into nothingness. Thrilled to have her life back, the Japanese girl ran back to what she thought would be the waiting arms of her family. Instead she found a closed door. Her husband had moved on with his life without informing her, having falling in love with another woman whom he was deteremined would now be the one he spent the rest of his life with. After dropping this bombshell on her, he quickly disappeared into the night, taking her baby girl with him. She fought valiently, but with her lack of financial support and still relatively weak from her time in the hospital, custody was awarded to the father, and she found herself alone and destitute.
*dream swirls*
My sister's name is Sanae, and she's about 5 years older then I am. I've never met her, though I was always raised knowing her name and who she was. My mother, and surprisingly my father, have always made it a point to let me and my siblings know that even though she isn't here, we have a sister who is just as much a part of our family as the rest of us. Growing up, my curiousity would creep into conversations with my mother and I'd make the daring attempt to ask her about Sanae. She'd do well for the first few moments, but it never failed that she'd end up sobbing and excusing herself to a private area. Hanging on the wall of my mother's bedroom is a giant framed photo of my sister, nothing more then a baby in her pink jumper with a rabbit on the front, head cocked to the side as she holds a red plastic telephone receiver up to her ear. That's the only real proof I have that she exists.
My mother has never had any idea where her ex-husband took Sanae. She doesn't have any idea if Sanae even knows that her step-mother isn't her real mother. The day she lost custody is the day she lost all contact and information on her daughter. It has been a gaping, seethingly painful hole in her life that has festered for the last three decades. As time goes on, people seem to have a driving desire to right the wrongs in their life, and do the things they always wished they had. I think my mother is at that point in her life, as she makes plans to leave my father, and now plans to embark on a journey to find the daughter she lost so long ago.
I asked her if she had any clue where to start, and she said no. She's going to fly into Tokyo and start her search there, and then make her way down to Osaka. She said she knows it's a long shot, but she has faith that this will be a rewarding journey for her. She said she doesn't want to impose on her daughter (this was the primary reason she's given her whole life on why she hasn't reached out, "I don't want to force myself into her life, if she wants me there she'll find me"), and says that all she wants to do is see her, and give her a hug. That would be enough for her.
I'm a little nervous about her going on such an emotional journey on her own. I offered to accompany her on her trip, and she said she would love to have me go with her. The only problem is the financial aspect of it. I've had a very expensive year so far, and I'm not exactly on the solid footing I'd like to be in terms of my bank account. I'm heading down to Atlanta right before Labor Day, and I've been putting money aside for a trip to India next spring with a friend of mine. If I did make the decision to go to Japan with her in November, I'd probably have to postpone the India trip for quite a few months to make up the difference. That doesn't even account for the price differences between the US and Japan. I don't anticipate this being a 1/2 day trip either. I'd guess it would be between a week to a week and a half. Maybe even longer if we ended up finding Sanae.
For a chance to meet my sister for the first time, I think I could manage though.
- Location:The Loop, Chicago
- Mood: distressed
- Music:Eric Himan - Wish You Would
Apparently the rebuilding process in Iraq needs someone with grant management experience, and somehow my ability to read/write/speak Arabic with some minimal success has caught the interest of some individuals higher up in my agency. Don't ask me who is talking to who, but someone got the bright idea to suggest my name as a potential person to fill this position.
I did a little research into the process and this is what I found. For the most part, the jobs in Iraq are filled on a contractual basis through advertisements on the State Department's website, and the Office of Personnel Management's USAJobs.gov website. They are mostly temporary positions, lasting anywhere from 6 months to 13 months, and after they are completed the person is brought back to live their life happily in the US of A. There is a process called an "Inter-Agency detail" that allows current federal employees to be temporarily reassigned to one of these Iraq positions. If someone chooses to do so, they continue to hold the same title and grade as they had before going to Iraq, and continue to receive the pay and benefits from their agency. Housing and food is provided free of charge while in Iraq, and you receive a 35% increase in your pay due to the "hazard" of being in a war zone. Overtime in these positions is almost mandatory, and you have the possibility of accumulating even more pay based on that.
If given the option of going, I'm really not sure what I would say. There really are quite a few things to keep in mind. Pros and cons need to be weighed.
On the positive side, it would be a fantastic opportunity to get a taste of what life might be like in the Foreign Service. Packing up my bags and moving half-way across the world to an entirely foreign culture that is hostile to Americans would certainly be a trial by fire for my interest in service with State. My keen interest in Arabic language, culture, and history is a strong draw for potentially wanting to participate, since living in Iraq would give me plenty of opportunity to pratice using my Arabic skills reading signs and conversing with Iraqi nationals who work in the Green Zone. The grant management job would also require a bit of traveling to sites to review activities and verify that obligations are being met, which would expound that cultural/language portion. While the work is hard, there is some opportunity to get away from Baghdad, which would mean I'd also be able to do some "sight seeing" in nearby locations like Amman and Kuwait. I'm not sure if I could manage it, but Dubai, Cairo, and Jerusalem aren't all that distant either. The free housing and food would bring my spending down considerably, where I'd only have to pay my car, credit cards, and student loans electronically. All other bills like cable, rent, and dining would be out the window, allowing me to pay off all the other outstanding bills in what I've calculated to be about 4 months of work. After that, I'd be completely debt free and would be able to bank well over $100,000 for when I get back to the US. Pay for grad school? Use it to travel around the world like I've always dreamed? Forget saving to take a major trip ever 2/3 years, I could do India, China, Africa, and Europe all in a single year and still have ass loads of cash sitting around.
There are, of course, some very glaring negatives. Heading out into the international scene would mean that I'd have to leave behind all my friends and family for a little over a year. While I'll have phone calls and internet access, it's not going to be the same as moving to Boston, or Washington DC and hopping a quick flight home to say hello. The availability of things to do while in the Green Zone in Iraq is pretty limited for security reasons. My online research has concluded that the majority of civilian employees there work insane amounts of hours during the work week, and then pretty much get blitz bombed Friday and Saturday to de-stress. I'm a non-drinker, so something tells me I might be a bit of an outcast when I arrive after I don't take 5 tequila shots and dance naked on a "kursii" (that's chair in Modern Standard Arabic). Then of course I'm a gay homosexual, a move to a war-torn Muslim country with a variety of angry fundamentalist factions isn't exactly the most welcoming of locations for scoring penis. Not to mention the litany of macho US military men, UN peacekeepers, and contracted security who probably aren't all that fond of "the geh". Actually the presence of so many hot straight men might be considered a plus in some instances. We'll consider this a neutral fact in light of this duality.
Oh, and I might die.
This isn't something I'd be forced to do, ultimately it's my choice. The reality of the situation is that I don't think I have the right skill set they are looking for in someone who would be ideal for this job anyway. The fact that I'm pretty handy with Arabic is a big plus for them I'm sure, but I do lack a few professional experiences that they'd like to see in the total candidate. Then again, looking at the requirements, I don't think the total candidate really exists. I have time to think about what I would do if I this lands in my lap.
- Location:The Loop, Chicago
- Mood:
confused - Music:Jay Brannan - A Death Waltz
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