March 2003 Archives

7:00 AM
I'm up early, way too early for a Sunday morning. I'm running in the Mercury News Run/Walk along with 8,000 other people. It's a fundraising event to benefit local schools.

8:00 AM
The morning sky is so clear and it is in the mid-60s. A beautiful day for running. I register and make my way to the starting line for the 5K run that will start soon. My goal is to complete it under thirty minutes.

9:00 AM
It begins. The first mile is the most frustrating. I find myself trying to break free from the herd of walkers and get ahead of the pack. To make up for the lost time, I run faster than my typical pace.

Mile 2.5
I'm beginning to regret the decision to make up time. My legs are fighting me and I alternate between walking and running.

Mile 2.75
As I come up the other side of an underpass, I'm greeted with the sounds of a school band seated along a stretch of sidewalk. Half expecting to hear the theme from Rocky as I come over the rise, I must be dehydrated.

Mile 3
I'm feeling disappointed and very slow. I suddenly I see the finish line banner off in the distance. My legs somehow find the strength to continue running and complete the race.

9:30 AM
I walk back to Discovery Meadow with a sense of relief. There are a number of booths providing runners with bottled water, juice, apples, bananas, breads, biscotti and even coffee. After drinking three bottles of water to rehydrate, I enjoy my first cup of delicious coffee.

4:00 PM
I'm online to check my official time. I find my name and instantly shut my eyes. If I don't look, maybe the number will shrink. I open my left eye slowly and read the time... 27:34! That's an 8:52 minute mile.

I was happily surprised. I now have a faster time to shoot for in the next race. For the record, the fastest runner completed the course in 15:52.

Today was way too busy. For a brief break and distraction, I peeked at the Friday Five and was unimpressed. I followed the submitter's link and found her original questions. There was one in particular that I wanted to answer.

4. Name a special teacher who inspired you as a child or adolescent.

In the 6th grade, there was Mr. H, one of the most creative teachers I ever had. He introduced me to the writings of J.R.R. Tolkien and John Steinbeck. He was an aspiring writer and would read chapters from his book every now and then. He also helped foster my love of history.

My most vivid memory of his class was Habitat City. For one month, our classroom became a little town. Each student was tasked with making a shop out of a refrigerator box that would go over each desk. Every student had a unique business or function within the town.

There was an elected mayor, an electric company (which controlled the light switch) and a garbage company (the trash can). There was even a toll we had to pay just to enter the classroom.

I remember that my business was the second most successful one. I rented out comic books and View-Master reels. For the record, the tollbooth was the most profitable and successful business in town. The kid whose seat was by the door owned it, which proves again that it's all about location.

I understand that Mr. H is now a professor at a local university. I'm sure he continues to educate and inspire students fortunate to have him.

We met over three years ago. She was a fellow civil engineer in a different division of the company. We had spoken only a handful of times. She was a couple of years younger with much greater potential. She was recently married, but I was unaware that she was expecting. Last night, she passed away due to complications while giving birth. By a miracle, her baby girl is doing well.

I may not have known her well, but I'm still stunned and saddened. Hardly anyone in the office recognizes her name, which grieves me even more. I can't fully express what I'm feeling.

Somebody was asking about reading material etiquette on public transit. I think that it's fine to glance at somebody else's material, but full-on reading seems rather rude.

I get mildly uncomfortable when other people start reading whatever book or magazine I'm holding. It's not that I'm ashamed about what I read, although most of it can hardly be classified as literature. I just have the underlying urge to offer them the book.

There have been a few cool instances when the curious person actually starts a conversation regarding the reading. It can make for an easy ice breaker and is a definite improvement over sitting there reading my material silently.

Song on my mind... "Numb" by Linkin Park

All I want to do
Is be more like me
And be less like you

Can't you see that you're smothering me
Holding too tightly
Afraid to lose control
'Cause everything that you thought I would be
Has fallen apart right in front of you

One of my many bad habits is tinkering, especially web tinkering. It's time consuming and highly unproductive. Small changes made one at a time. Over the last couple of hours, I've been fiddling with the sidebar and archives. I made some progress, implemented the changes only to be bugged by something and undoing it all.

At the moment, I'm unsatisfied with the clutter I've created, but I'm unwilling to commit to eliminating anything. I've been diving into CSS and HTML. I know just enough to be dangerous and too little to be effective. I've also been poking around PHP and I wouldn't be surprised if something breaks really soon.

I should probably give up now and get some sleep so that I'm able to make tomorrow's train.

The title of this entry is part of a game I'm playing as I sit here on the train. You can play too. It's simple. Just close your eyes for ten seconds while in a moving vehicle, preferably one you aren't driving, and name your entry after the first thing you see when you open them.

I've been feeling guilty for driving to work the past two days. If I had a good reason for wasting gas, I wouldn't feel so bad, but I've simply been late. This week, trains started running four minutes earlier.

For most responsible people, also known as adults, this wouldn't pose a problem. They arrive a good ten minutes ahead of time. For lackadaisical morning people, a.k.a. me, four minutes is huge. Considering that I typically arrive two minutes before the train on a good day, this new timetable is proving troublesome.

Somehow, I managed to get up early this morning. I awoke to the voice of Brigadier General Vincent Brooks on the radio. He was fielding tough and sometimes biased questions from hungry reporters at Central Command.

I'm intrigued by the term "embedded reporter". It just sounds like something that requires a painful procedure to remove, like when a piece of glass gets embedded in your foot.

Finally, one thought of caution this morning, Never assume "carmel macchiato" is a misspelling of "caramel macchiato". Whatever I ordered tasted nothing like caramel and I doubt Carmel By-The-Sea would want to be associated such a drink. Blech!

I'm in a hurry to get things done
I rush and rush until life's no fun
All I really gotta do is live and die
But, I'm in a hurry and don't know why

Way too many things are happening way too fast. I wish there was a pause button on the world. I need to catch my breath. The morning sped by and there went lunch. By the time I collect my thoughts, the day will be done.

The only place open for coffee was a block or two away. It's located at the end of a plaza that includes a burger joint, a bookstore and a gym. On the other side of the plaza was this brand new place, just about ready to open.

What do you see? Do you see a new rock climbing center by Touchstone Climbing? Do you see a chance for adventure, for challenging yourself? Or do you see, like me, a new and exciting way to fall from a high place with colorful protrusions? There's a reason for all of that padding on the floor. The phrase "sudden impact" comes to mind.

Actually, I'm somewhat curious to try the facility out when it opens. Perhaps they will have a special discount day for the uncoordinated. That would be something.

On Friday evening, I was strolling around downtown San Jose, searching for something to do or see. I was dressed down, nothing that could be mistaken for club attire, so I tossed that thought from my mind. I was way too restless to go home.

I passed a handful of war protesters perched on the tip of Plaza de Cesar Chavez. Pausing for a moment to hear the people chanting and the cars honking, I took it all in before walking on.

Continuing up Market Street, I began to hear smatterings of music and spotted a group of people standing by the Circle of Palms outside of the San Jose Museum of Art. Curiosity grabbed me and I couldn't resist the temptation to see who was playing.

Performing by the front steps of the museum was an all-girl rock band called The Feathers. They are a local group that has been together for about ten months. They had a sound about them that made me stop and listen. At one point, I looked around to notice that some of the protesters had stopped by to listen as well. When they finished playing, I decided it was time for some coffee.

We saw Les Misérables on Saturday afternoon. It is one of my favorite musicals. I remember playing songs from it on the piano and listening to the soundtrack on cassette. I must admit that it took me forever to read through Victor Hugo's novel. Exceptionally thick books with tiny fonts have a way of intimidating me.

Yesterday's performances were awe-inspiring. The role of Jean Valjean was filled by an understudy who simply captivated the audience. The performers who portrayed Eponine and Enjolras were exceptional. Songs that stood out included "Who Am I", "One Day More" and "Empty Chairs at Empty Tables".

My favorite song has to be "Red and Black". Enjolras sings it as he tries to drum up support for the student rebellion against the government. His words of war contrast with the words of love sung by Marius, who has just met Cosette, Valjean's adopted daughter.

ENJOLRAS
It is time for us all
To decide who we are
Do we fight for the right
To a night at the opera now?
Have you asked of yourselves
What's the price you might pay?
Is it simply a game
For rich young boys to play?
The color of the world
Is changing day by day...

Red - the blood of angry men!
Black - the dark of ages past!
Red - a world about to dawn!
Black - the night that ends at last!

MARIUS
Had you been there tonight
You might know how it feels
To be struck to the bone
In a moment of breathless delight!
Had you been there tonight
You might also have known
How the world may be changed
In just one burst of light!
And what was right seems wrong
And what was wrong seems right!

Red... I feel my soul on fire!
Black... My world if she's not there!
Red... The color of desire!
Black... The color of despair!

This is the hall tree with storage bench. Armed with only a screwdriver (and a hammer, you know, just in case), it took about an hour to assemble the whole thing. The instructions were simply awful and nearly indecipherable. The various pieces and parts came together to form something resembling the diagram. Thankfully, there weren't any extra parts laying around afterwards, which I hope is a good sign.

Hanging on one of the double hooks is my favorite flannel jacket. The real test will be when I have guests over and they all try to hang things up. I fear that sometime in the evening there will be audible snaps as the weight of the jackets pull out the little screws from the mirrored panel. I'll have to take a photo when that happens.

The bench cover hasn't really been tested either. I can sit on it without crashing through into the storage bin. This only proves that it can support my weight, but that really isn't saying much.

The last day of winter went by without much fanfare. As you can see in the photo, spring arrived so quickly that it took all of the trees by surprise.

I wasn't hot on this week's Friday Five, so I dug around for an old one from January of last year.

1. You've just won a complete collection of movies starring one actor - what actor would you pick?
Harrison Ford is the first actor that comes to mind. Audrey Hepburn is the first actress that pops into my head.

2. What was the last movie you saw in a theater?
Charlotte Sometimes

3. What was the last video or DVD that you bought?
Gosford Park

4. What movie could you watch over and over again and not get sick of?
Lord of the Rings, either the Fellowship or the Two Towers. But really, I'm sure there would be a point where even the wonders of Middle Earth would wear thin.

5. How do you plan to spend your weekend?
If everything goes as planned, I will be seeing Les Misérables on Saturday. I'll also be assembling a hall tree with storage bench, similar to the one shown here. It includes the flip top but not the hat.

Song on my mind... "San Francisco" by Scott McKenzie

If you're going to San Francisco
Be sure to wear some flowers in your hair
If you're going to San Francisco
You're gonna meet some gentle people there

All across the nation,
such a strange vibration
People in motion
There’s a whole generation,
with a new explanation
People in motion, people in motion

Last night, I was listening to live music at a local cafe. The anti-war sentiment ran deep amongst the performers. Songs from a past generation came back to life with Bob Dylan leading the way. Woody Guthrie and Kingston Trio songs made brief appearances. Original compositions expressed in words and melodies what activists attempted to express in the streets. The same message conveyed differently and received openly.

On a random note, somebody brought in a didjeridu, gave a brief history about the instrument and then played a few songs. It was entirely unexpected, but quite appreciated.

Today was the grand opening of the Asian Art Museum of San Francisco. I was hoping to attend, but the news about the protester-induced gridlock at major intersections was an effective deterrent. I already have enough trouble navigating city streets when they are empty. If I had somehow made it into town tonight, I might not have found my way back out... ever.

The good news is that the museum offers free admission on the first Tuesday of each month. So April 1st is looking very enticing to see the various displays and architectural modifications to the rehabilitated building, which was once San Francisco's main library. Hopefully the city will be calmer by then.

Last night, I attempted to eat a quick dinner while at work. I was hurrying to make it to the Coffee Society in Cupertino. That was where other bloggers from the around San Jose would be meeting. They get together once a month through an informal arrangement on Weblogger Meetup. It was my first time and I didn't want to be late.

Although I tried, I was still late. When I first walked in, I completely missed the sign. I ordered a latte valencia and surveyed the cafe. On my second pass, I finally noticed that I had walked right by the sign, which sat in plain view next to the front door. Typical me.

Anyway, the small group of people I met last night were very friendly. For me, there are few things better than laughing and having great conversation over a hot cup of coffee. It was such a refreshing experience, I’m already looking forward to next month's meetup.

Song on my mind... "Dance of the Shepherdess" by Hugo Alfvén

If the media covers this world crisis the same way it covered the terrorist attacks or the Gulf War, then it will be a non-stop barrage of special reports and breaking news. I don't think I'm ready to be inundated with that many graphic images, scrolling updates and terror alerts.

Over a year ago, I remember finally just shutting everything off. I stopped reading the newspaper headlines, surfing the news sites and watching the nightly television reports. There were certain TV shows or movies that I just couldn't stand to view. Instead, I read novels, listened to music and watched comedies. The return of baseball seemed like a godsend.

Eventually, I opened my eyes and uncovered my ears to world events. I started by listening to NPR and found that I could handle the calm voices and tempo of the reporting. I could stay informed without feeling overwhelmed. In due time, I felt secure enough to return to the mainstream media.

But since Monday night, I've again reduced my news intake to public radio and a few select news sites. I'm not going to take any chances this time around. I figure that the best way to defend myself against the oncoming media assault is with a few preemptive measures of my own.

The "happy" song I heard this morning that is still on my mind... "Creep" (radio edit) by Radiohead.

Whatever makes you happy,
whatever you want.
You're so very special,
I wish I was special,

but I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo.
What the hell am I doing here?
I don't belong here,
I don't belong here.

I first heard this song during college and immediately grew attached to it. Can you believe that it was released ten years ago? Eesh!

People speak with such certainty about a matter that involves multiple motives and consequences. Is it really so simple that they can draw definite conclusions and never question them?

Anxieties and emotions are high, but in their frustration, people resort to poisonous and hateful rhetoric to express their opinions. More forceful words don't always make a stronger case.

In the last few days, I've been in a few distressing discussions for and against war. They weren't distressing because of the subject matter, but because I felt bullied. I wish I could hand out a conversational disclaimer beforehand, to help manage expectations.

"Feel free to passionately express your views. I'll listen wholeheartedly and respect your right to your opinions. But please understand that I'm not here to argue with you or be lectured by you or rally around your cause. If I ask a question, it doesn't mean I'm your enemy or that I disagree. I'm simply here to engage your ideas and hear your thoughts."

I know, give me a camera and I suddenly think I'm a photographer. To celebrate St. Patrick's Day, or what is left of it, here are a few shades of green for luck.

For the curious and my own reference, the building is the gift shop of the Cathedral Basilica of Saint Joseph. The washed-out clover leaf was in front of Senora Emma's. The view of the field is one I see every morning on the train ride to work. The white-lettered sign is in front of the Arena Green.

It is Saturday night and the film has finished. I'm in my car, in a dimly lit parking garage above the movie theater. There is something going on at The Agenda Lounge, live DJs and dancing. An internal battle between psyching myself up and psyching myself out rages on. Should I go to the club or go home? Lights flicker in my mind, like a film projector. Fade to fantasy...

I'm standing in the middle of a packed club where a DJ plays progressive house and a roomful of bodies move to the captivating rhythm. Disillusioned and glum, I attempt to drink away the pain. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot a beautiful woman, one from my past, no less. The attraction is immediate and we spend the night sharing stories and dancing. The night passes quickly. Before parting ways, we...

Okay, wait a minute. Obviously, I've been watching way too many romantic comedies with cheesy encounters. Common sense tells me that my life is definitely not a movie. I should be more realistic. Fade to reality...

I'm standing in a half-empty club where a DJ plays something unrecognizable at an unbearable volume. A few people are dancing, but most people are hanging by the bar or sitting at tables. I attempt to drink away the pain, wondering why I came here in the first place. I spot many beautiful women with handsome men. Nothing happens. The night crawls by slowly and I eventually leave.

My sense of reality is way too pessimistic. The two scenarios run through my mind and I'm torn. My forehead is now resting on the steering wheel and I'm wondering if I'm going to be sitting in this car for the rest of the night. I suddenly exclaim, "This is ridiculous! I don't need this!" Fade to actuality...

I'm at the club. It's half-empty with a few people dancing and the rest hanging by the bar, but it's early. I toss back a Marzen and suddenly spot a couple of friends from college that I haven't seen in a long time. We catch up and reminisce, watch a special presentation of music videos and meet some new people. The club is filling up and we dance on a crowded floor. The night passes quickly and ends happily.

And to think, this came about because of a random blue postcard.

Sparked by a post I read on geeky chick dot net. Mine is a rather long-winded version...

1. Saw Mina Shum's Long Life, Happiness and Prosperity.
2. Went to SFIAAFF in San Jose's Opening Night reception held at d.p. Fong Galleries.
3. Guava cake is delicious.
4. Slept in late on Saturday and contemplated cleaning the house.
5. Practiced proper procrastination techniques and decided to go running instead.
6. Went to purchase tickets for Charlotte Sometimes, but it was sold out. Decided to try the "rush line" later.
7. Killed time by having dinner at Tengu Sushi and taking some pictures.
8. Waited at least thirty minutes in the ironically-named "rush line" and barely got in to see the movie.
9. Went to The Agenda Lounge, which was hosting Directions in Sound, a "celebration of the Asian American music underground".
10. Slept in even later on Sunday.
11. Lost two pounds running and allegedly dancing.
12. Watched The Bourne Identity and was disappointed that Clive Owen had such a small role.

Six months ago, I was unaware of online journals. It's true, where was I?

A year ago, I had finally saved enough money to buy a new house. It would be only the second place I ever lived.

Five years ago, I began my career in civil engineering with the company. My first project involved reroofing a public library.

Ten years ago, I was a sophomore in college, planning trips to Sharks games and organizing the university's College Bowl tournament.

Fifteen years ago, I was in the eighth grade and had decided to become a civil engineer when I grew up.

About twenty years ago, my mom gave me a five-year journal to write in, but I never touched it. It now lays hidden away in a box somewhere.

Fascinating trivia, I know, but it may be handy should I ever become an answer on Jeopardy.

Top 5 reasons why I'm glad that real life isn't like The Sims...

1. When I'm down, an annoying clown doesn't come around and rub it in
2. Bills every three days seems a bit excessive
3. No weekends, life without real weekends is just wrong
4. Deleting a pool ladder doesn't cause me to swim around endlessly until I drown
5. I don't become hopelessly trapped by poor furniture placement

Top 5 reasons why I wish that real life was more like The Sims...

1. Changing clothes would require only a spiffy spin
2. Home decoration and remodeling would be so simple
3. Time at work would fly by, just like that
4. You could tell if you were scoring points (literally) with somebody by the plus signs or heart above their head
5. People wouldn't think you're all that weird, should you accidentally say shoon shoon instead of good-bye after playing way too much of the game

The movie had just ended and I quickly joined the slowly moving line exiting the theater. It continued out towards the cafe, passed the festival host, a nice, elderly Asian gentleman in a tuxedo with a silver jacket. He smiled and greeted people, shaking hands and making small talk. Every so often, he would stop somebody and hand them a green postcard.

Before I reached him, I had already planned out my response. When he greeted me, I would smile, nod my head slightly and give a friendly "Hi, how do you do?" Very simple.

The plan was working until he said, "Oh wait, you might be interested in this..." He grabbed a blue postcard from the window ledge and handed it to me. It was a small advertisement for the San Francisco International Asian American Film Festival.

"The festival will be in San Jose next weekend. You should check it out," he told me with a smile.

I thanked him softly and headed to the cafe for some espresso. I wondered what it was that prompted him to tell me about the festival? What was on the green postcard? And why hadn't he handed other people the blue one?

With more courage, I would've gone back and asked him. But what answer was I expecting? Maybe there wasn't a reasonable explanation. Maybe I just gave off a certain "vibe".

Whichever way, his instincts were right on. The festival does look interesting. So this weekend, I'm planning to see at least one Asian American film.

I was in a rather blah mood this morning. It was dark and overcast. There is a strong possibility of rain later today. I missed the train and drove to work, which didn't improve matters.

Sitting at one of many stoplights, I switched the radio over to a country station and they were playing Travis Tritt.

Yeah I think I'll make me some homemade soup
Feelin' pretty good and that's the truth
It's neither drink nor drug induced
No I'm just doin' alright

And it's a great day to be alive
I know the sun's still shinin' when I close my eyes
There's some hard times in the neighborhood
But why can't every day be just this good?

Here I was being all sullen, while this guy on the radio was so darn... cheerful. I couldn't help but laugh. A happy song is a great way to start the day.

Children, especially quiet and observant ones, seem to have eyes that are brimming with intelligence and curiosity. It brings a smile to my face when first noticing I've caught their attention. But a feeling of discomfort starts to set in when I glance up, every now and then, to realize that I'm still under their watchful gaze.

Have you ever wondered what a child is thinking about when they stare at you quietly? Are they fascinated by the fact that somebody still wears a flannel jacket? Am I simply scenery as they envision attending Stanford, one of the top dream colleges they read about while surfing the web? Are they bored and asking themselves, "Why is that funny person writing with a pen and paper? Why doesn't he have a laptop like all my friends in pre-school?"

But as soon as I think these things, the little ones break their stare and start beating their Barbie doll's head against an armrest or tug on their black Yu-Gi-Oh! beanie as they smell their shoe. This leads me to suspect that I was just another oddity, providing a child with a momentary distraction on an otherwise uneventful morning.

Cinequest wrapped up this past weekend. It left me with a good taste in my mouth. I came away with a greater appreciation for independent films and a real admiration for the independent filmmaker. Now I can't wait for next year's festival.

For me, the filmmakers have the same appeal as some of the stellar unsigned bands and musicians out there. They may aspire for commercial success and a wider audience, but their focus and efforts are firmly rooted in their art and vision, while they still have creative control.

Honestly, I would be surprised (but extremely happy) if any of the films I saw receive distribution for mass consumption. It is strange, but some of their appeal stems from the very fact that they aren't commercially successful. They have yet to be tainted by a major studio media blitz.

I wasn't bombarded with television commercials, radio spots, billboards, newspaper ads or email spam to see these movies. The only hype came in the form of a producer or director handing me a postcard in person, encouraging me to see his or her film. It seems so ridiculously simple and low tech, but to me, it was refreshingly personal and effective.

Just for future reference, the movies I saw over the weekend included Violin, Book of Rules , 7 Songs, You Got Nothin' and Burning Annie. Only two days after seeing ee perform live, I recognized a few of their songs being used in Book of Rules, which I thought was just bizarre.

One random word is shown and you have sixty seconds to write about it. This describes oneword, a site I found while delving through Maddy's Rambles. Don't think, just write! Sounds simple enough.

Yeah, right. Every so often, when I get passionate about something, I tend to just keep writing without any end in sight or any point for that matter. But I think my predominant style, if you can call it that, revolves around mulling over words and phrases and then replacing them with different words and phrases. You're probably thinking right now, "You're joking, this is the result of mulling?"

Anyway, a time limit to write about one word is apparently tougher than I thought. Take today's word for example, the word is drawer...

I have a drawer that contains shirts that I've never worn. Free ones that I got for volunteering or running or as gifts. There are some that I got that probably look better in a drawer than on me. But there are some there that I have no idea why I don't just wear them. I should go through them again.

I have a tendency to overanalyze almost every social encounter. I'm probably the worst judge of the impressions I make or how I'm perceived. It would be nice if I was able to get feedback from say, a panel of judges, to see how I came across, like on American Idol...

Randy Jackson: David David David, how ya doin' man?
Me: Um... good, I guess.
Randy: Well, man, I really wasn't digging what you wore tonight. You were a little flat in some parts of the conversation and I wasn't really feelin' ya. I thought some of your stories were okay, but next time, pick someone more your type. Paula?

Paula Abdul: I don't know. I think you have a nice, quiet quality about you. You probably need to work on not being so nervous, but I liked how you made some the jokes your own. Nice job overall, but there's room for improvement.
Me: Thank you.

Simon Cowell: I totally disagree, I thought you stunk. (puts his Coca-Cola cup down) We are here to raise the bar in this competition called life and you didn't meet it. Based on that performance, you just weren't good enough.
Paula: (turns to Simon) You're being a bit harsh, don't you think?
Simon: I'm not. Let's face it, a woman will be investing a lot of time and effort in loving him and she deserves somebody better. That's it, thank you.
Me: Umm... thank you. (I walk back to the red room and slump on the couch.)

Ryan Seacrest: (puts his hand on my knee) David, you heard the judges, that was a little rough. How are you feeling?
Me: (removing his hand) Kind of crummy, but I guess I'll have to wait and see.
Ryan: Well, if you want to see David go on to the next round, you can call or text in your vote. Next up, Orlando Bloom.

One of the independent films I saw this weekend was Burning Annie. The movie itself was a little rough because final edits hadn't been completed before the screening. Technical glitches aside, it was a pretty sharp and funny film.

In the movie, a college student named Max has a radio program that nobody listens to. Over the air, he reveals things about himself, his neuroses and other personal thoughts, things he can't seem to articulate to people in real life. Then Julie comes along, possibly his only audience member. When they initially meet, there is this great scene that expresses how I feel sometimes. It went something like...

Julie: I love your show!
Max: You listen to my show?
Julie: Yeah, I heard about it through a friend who said, "To know Max, you need to hear him on the radio."
Max: Great! Now that I know someone is listening, I'm going to have to change time slots.
Julie: What?
Max: I can't believe you listen to my show. That is like... like an invasion of privacy!

I decided to go up to San Francisco on Thursday night. ee and The Quails were the opening acts. I'm not sure why, but it took me a while to get into their music. I really enjoyed the sounds of The Aisler's Set, whose fans were out in force that night.

While there, a couple of things about myself were reinforced. First, my sense of fashion is completely off... all of the time. An incredulous and appalled expression will flash across people's faces if you offend their fashion tastes when they see you. To avoid this in the future and blend in better, I made some mental notes. I need to:

• buy darker clothing, preferably gray or black.
• gel my hair, dye it jet black or shave my head.
• get horn-rimmed glasses and a beanie!
• buy long-sleeved t-shirts to wear under normal t-shirts.
• pierce an ear, a tongue or at least an eyebrow.

Second, I still tend to idealize... all of the time. I get this silly idea that everything will be wonderful, the people will be friendly and the beer will be dark and full-bodied. Things just don't turn out that way. I really ought to pay attention to reality, especially when I hear it shout, "Hey! Yoohoo! I'm over here!"

I often wonder if people agonize about making decisions as much as I do. What always gets me is that it doesn't even have to be about something big or important. It can be as small and stupid as seeing a band play in San Francisco.

Five reasons why I want to see the band...

1. They received a good review in the newspaper.
2. I heard some of their songs online and liked them.
3. They are performing at the Great American Music Hall, somewhere I've never been before.
4. It is in the City, which can be exciting.
5. It would be another opportunity to meet new people and face my anxiety.

Five reasons why I shouldn't see the band...

1. It costs $11 plus gas, parking, food and possibly merchandise.
2. It will be at least an hour and a half round trip.
3. I have work tomorrow.
4. It is in the City, which can be overwhelming.
5. I don't know if I'm up for facing my anxiety tonight.

The moment of decision is the easiest part of the whole process. It's all the minutes that precede and follow that drives me up the wall.

Last night was nice. We had a small and simple dinner before seeing Klepto, one of Cinequest's digital movies.

The film is about a girl with an obsessive-compulsive habit of shoplifting watches, CDs and anything else that will fit into her purse or pants. She encounters a seedy department store surveillance guy who attempts to make her steal for him. It was a suspenseful story with amazing visual and audio clarity.

The director, producer and primary cast were on hand to see the movie's world premiere. The real treat came after the film, when there was a question and answer session. It was my first one, so it was exciting to learn about how the story was developed, the digital filming process, and how the director did all of the editing on his home computer.

After seeing that film, I wouldn't be surprised if I become paranoid about store security cameras, imagining that prying eyes are watching and taping my every move.

The following was inspired by LuckyKat's excellent journal entry about her experience with the piano.

When I was around six, there was an assembly at school where a man, from the local music store, performed on a small Casio keyboard. To me, it was a new toy that made music. I thought, "I want to play that!"

I rushed home and told my mom all about it. Soon enough, I was taking group keyboard lessons, first at school and then at the store. I had only been learning for a short while when my little sister became interested in playing too.

Song on my mind... "Girl All The Bad Guys Want" by Bowling for Soup. In the video, they spoof Staind, which gets me everytime.

And when she walks, all the wind blows and the angels sing
But, she'll never notice me

Cause she's watching wrestling
Creaming over tough guys
Listening to rap metal
Turntables in her eyes
She likes them with a mustache
Racetrack season pass
Driving in a Trans Am
Does a mullet make a man?

Now I'm watching wrestling
Trying to be a tough guy
Listening to rap metal
Turntables in my eyes
I can't grow a mustache and I ain't got no season pass
All I got's a moped

While a few thousand celebrated Fat Tuesday in style, a couple hundred party people trashed downtown San Jose. An article in the San Jose Mercury News called Mardi Gras an "outlandish celebration where song, nudity and bacchanalian revelry reign on the eve of Lent". Man, where was I?

Oh yes, I was home, eating a peaceful dinner and watching American Idol. I miss out on all the action. There is always Cinco De Mayo, the other local celebration that combines partying and vandalism.

Meanwhile, San Jose held a special election yesterday for one ballot measure that would accelerate airport expansion. It passed largely due to the fact that almost nobody voted. Only 14% of the eligible voters went to the polls. The major opposition to the measure came from a group called People Against Airport Traffic Jams, an unoriginal but to-the-point name.

I have two thoughts on the subject. First, I don't think I'll be driving anywhere near the airport once it is expanded. Traffic around it is already horrendous and a bigger terminal is not going to help the situation. Second, to improve election turnout and reduce looting, they should've made all of the unruly party-goers vote.

Little thoughts that only require a short attention span.

Fallen, the new album by Evanescence comes out today. I've been anticipating the release for a little while now.

I'm thinking about participating in the 5K portion of the Mercury News Run Walk in about four weeks. The registration fee works out to $5.30 a kilometer.

Mean-spirited people should speak with quieter voices and, if possible, as far away from me as can be.

It would nice if this place looked a little less... Movable Typish.

Some days my life feels like an episode of Everybody Loves Raymond and I'm Robert.

I saw a car bumper sticker this morning that read, "I love police brutality."

Happiness is buying a latte and getting a complimentary donut.

And finally, a haiku...

My thoughts stand naked
Shiver without words to wear
The closet is bare

It officially began last Thursday, but I didn't see my first film until Friday night. Over the weekend I saw four films: Daughter from Yan'an, Ripples (Sazanami), 25 Kids and One Dad and Mr. Rookie.

Instead of me trying to recap the movie plots, I found a decent review that summarizes them all. Unlike mainstream movies, they don't have nice (or overblown), dedicated websites.

I could identify with many of the themes that each movie touched on to various degrees. The views expressed about family, saving face, respect and acceptance are very similar to the ones my mom and my grandparents hold. It was a little freaky, in a few cases, seeing those similarities played out on the screen and not just at home.

Ripples, which was the most stylized of the four movies, really caught my attention. Compared to other films I've seen, this one was refreshingly slow and quiet. Most scenes went something like this...

View of an empty hiking trail is shown for ten seconds. A young woman walks up the trail and disappears around the bend in about five seconds. For another ten seconds, the camera remains focused on the empty trail.

The whole effect was one of isolation and loneliness. I don't think there were more than three people in any one shot and the dialogue was minimal.

The audience reaction wasn't very positive. Most people were yawning and checking their watches halfway through, which made me more determined to relish the "tediousness" of the film. Others were frustrated with the inability of some characters to communicate, but those were the ones that I could sympathize and relate to the most.

As a typical movie experience, the film was rather unsatisfying. But from a personal perspective, it was quite endearing.

This is a nice gift I got out of the blue. It is a Starbucks water bottle. I like it but I can't help but wonder why a coffee chain is selling such items. Is it possible that they are feeling health conscious and trying to encourage more water consumption? Is it a way to offset the dehydration that coffee causes?

I understand that for every cup of coffee I drink, I need to drink two cups of water to replenish my body. In that case, I would need to drink this entire bottle full of water after a tasty 16 ounces of coffee. Of course, 48 ounces of liquid sounds like a formula for disaster or at least many trips to the bathroom.