3 AM phone call...

I was sleeping like a baby last night. For the first time in a long time I managed to go to bed before eleven at night and I'm pretty sure I would have slept the whole night through...but, the universe had other plans for me.

First things first, nobody and I mean nobody should have to wake up to the ring setting I have on my piece of shit cell phone. So when it rang at 3 in the morning I made a promise to myself to find one of my Korean friends and change that horrible horrible ring. It took me a while to focus before I could find the phone in the cold darkness of my bedroom. Korean phones ring forever by the way, the just ring and ring and ring. I finally found it and answered in a surprisingly calm voice.

At three in the morning when your phone rings one has three expectations. The first is that a drunk friend has decided they want to tell you about their night and share all the funny things that are only really funny if you were there and drunk yourself. The second possibility is that a family member was calling me to let me know that something very tragic had taken place and I was going to need to hop on a plane and fly back to the states for the worse day of my life. The third possibility is that someone, be they friend or acquaintance has decided they are in need of some sexual release and you would be just the person to help them achieve that. So which three in the morning phone call did I get? None of the above, now I have a forth expectation to add to my list of late night phone calls.

Some background information. Every month my work shift changes. This month I am working weekends there for my days off are on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. This means I work two 12 hour shifts on Friday and Saturday and then 9-5 on Sunday and 1-9 on Monday...it's really one of the crappiest shifts you can get and I volunteered for it because my good buddy wanted to hang out a lot this month. This also means that for December when my shift returns to Monday through Friday 1-9 that I will have to work 8 days in a row because the new shift begins next Monday giving me no days off until the following Friday.

Recently, as in last week, my good buddies dad had two heart-attacks in one day. Luck for him he had the second heart attack in the hospital. Both my friends parents live in Korea so he was able to talk to some people pretty quickly on the phone. However, he was unable to go and visit his dad until this week. I guess, in Korea you can only see your family member for ten minutes every two hours and his dad lives about four hours away. So he headed south to go check on his dad this Monday and gets back today.

What does all of this have to do with my late night phone call. I'm getting there, calm down. The late night phone call was from my friends wife who stayed here because she has tutoring jobs. She also has a little thing called Endometriosis. I guess the short definition for endometriosis is that it tissue which is usually found in the uterus grows outside the uterus causing great great pain during the menstrual cycle. I'm pretty sure I butchered that definition but it affects women and from what I witnessed last night it is some of the most painful shit around. As a man I guess you could imagine it like this...if your balls swelled to the size of oranges and then were squeezed and twisted slowly over the period of an entire week that would be somewhere in the ball park of endometriosis. I will now give you a moment to process that.....

So she called me because we are friends and her husband is out of town. She needed a ride to the hospital which is about a ten minute car ride from where we all live. I could hear the pain in her voice between all the crying. It's one thing to be woken up by a fucked up cell phone ring, it's another thing all together to answer that phone and hear cries of pain on the other line. So I quickly got dressed and ran down to their apartment where I found her curled up into a little ball on their floor. She had hot tears running down her face and for a moment I thought I was going to shit myself.

My friends wife is just over 5'10 and doesn't weigh very much at all. She has a thick southern accent and swears like a sailor when she is feeling good so you can imagine the words coming out of her mouth when I arrived there. Apparently she had just gotten her hair dyed because what used to be very short blonde hair on her head was now very brown short hair on her head. So naturally, when I walk into someone apartment late at night and see them crying in pain on the floor the first thing out of my mouth is "Oh, wow, you dyed your hair?" This didn't go over to well and I was called some things I had to look up in the dictionary.

So, I bent down, picked her up and started the to take her down to their car. Lucky for us, my buddy took a cab ride to the train station and left their car in the parking lot. Unlucky for me their car is a stick shift! "Fuck! I knew not learning how to drive a stick shift was going to come back to bite me on the ass one day."

So we made it down to the car and her pain was obviously unbearable at this point. Since she called me all those new names after asking about her hair there was no way I was going to tell her I did not know how to drive a stick shift. We got in the car, she was still crying and hunched over and I was thinking about shedding some tears myself. I was honestly afraid of what this woman would do to me if I didn't get this car started and moving soon. Their car is the size of a golf cart by the way and falling apart. I am responsible for breaking the passenger side door. A little over a month ago we went to the grocery mart and I went to open the door ripping the handle off accidentally and forever making it so that the passenger door had to be opened on the inside.

So, I knew I had about two tries to start this fucking car before she realized something was wrong with me and not the car. My stick shift driving lessons consist of three people. The first would be my father. We tried it maybe one hour in some parking lot when I was 15 years old. I barely remember the experience but I remember the look on my dads face which said something like..."Hmmmm, is this really my kid?" The second time took place in Montana a little over a year and a half ago with my friend Sara, we were in the backwoods somewhere and she decided to give me the wheel and I did pretty good. I felt like a small child whose mother was "oh so proud" of them but it worked up my confidence. The third time was with Danielle's Toyota (I think it was a Toyota) that she owned for few month's. This thing was a car and that's it. It could do nothing else but move. This car is responsible for the hottest road trip I have ever taken in my life. A little tip for those of you planning on driving from Oregon to Montana in the summer..."make sure your car has air-conditioning!" It was so hot in that car I started speaking Swahili!

Anyways, I took all of these experiences and I put it into last night. She needed me and I needed to come through. Not only did I get that bad boy started the first time but I reversed without stalling and got us to the hospital without incident. Unfortunately for me I parked the car on a down slope that needed to be backed out of to leave.

We got to the hospital emergency room and explained what was going on. My friend called to see if everything was okay and since his Korean is good he talked to the nurse and the doctor. She got some blood taken, they took some x-rays (I'm not sure why?) and then they gave her some medication for the pain and brought us both back to a room with two hospital beds in it. It was at this point I realized we were going to be here for a while. I didn't think to bring a book or even my ipod. The drugs must have kicked in pretty quick with her because that thick ass Southern accent was slurring a bit and her tear subsided some. She still looked like she was in pain but more manageable pain. She had been holding my hand for most of the night and finally let go about half an hour after taking the drugs.

Lucky for me my hand had been conditioned for extreme pressures by my dad. At a young age my dad thought it was funny to shake my brothers and my hand as hard as he could rolling the bones in our hands against themselves in the process. I'd be lying if I said I don't now find myself doing this to young children. The cycle continues!

So she let go of my hand and we talked. We talked and we talked and we talked. The whole time I thought for sure she was going to close her eyes and fall asleep but it never happened. We just talked all night and waited for the green light to leave. When you have someone who is in so much pain ask you if you are alright then you know somethings wrong. She kept asking me if I was okay and told me that I seemed "hurt" lately. I told her I was fine, made a well placed joke and then tried to change the subject but her southern ass was having none of it. I don't know if it was because she was high or what but she called me out pretty good. She told me that she looks at me when I don't realize it sometimes and she can tell that I'm "heart-sick". Even when I'm laughing. Then she made this killer statement to me. She said "I may have scar tissue on my fallopian tubes but I think you have scar tissue around your heart." I gave her a friendly "shut up" and "go to bed" and she just smiled and finally closed her eyes. I don't really think she went to sleep I think she was just giving me space to think.

We got back to the apartments around 7am this morning and I went back to sleep. I woke up a little while ago and felt the need to write so that's what I'm doing. It's Thanksgiving day here in Korea and I have a lot to be thankful for. I hope all of you have a wonderful Thanksgiving day and weekend. Be safe and have fun.

Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened.

Man...this week has been crap. You ever been doing really well or at least you think you're doing really well and then reality checks your ass to the floor? That's what happened to me. Luckily I have some really good friends who I can talk to about stuff though. I feel like a lump of the leg of a bug that is sitting on the lump of a log. I had another rough nights sleep last night and I awoke with a certainty in my heart. But what I didn't realize was that the certainty in my heart had nothing to do with the person I thought it had to do with. Unfortunately for me I didn't figure that out until I made an ass of myself via the email. God, I'm 32 years old and sometimes I still act like a fucking child...and yet I'm still so damn charming! I've got a lot of work to do on myself and I think my little break down was pretty good for me. It's important to admit when you weak sometimes and it's important to admit when you're wrong and I was just flat the fuck out wrong.

I think hanging out with all these new people in my life here has been really good for me, but sometimes when I see how happy the couples are I feel a little ache in my heart. I'm not trying to have a pity party for myself I'm just being honest. I've been having such a good time with my friends that I was a little taken back at the sudden feeling of sadness I felt a few days ago. I don't' like to leave things unsaid and I'm starting to realize that's just how it's going to be. I need to accept this and not lash out like a little boy.

My long time friend from college really helped me put some things into perspective about an hour ago. I called her and she has a way of talking to me about things that helps me to reflect on my own shit. I think I was feeling pretty sorry for myself when I began the conversation and by the time I got off the phone I was okay. I'm just a dude who tries to do the right thing and fucks up on occasion. That's life. I've got time and I need to take that time.

Right after I got off the phone with my one friend another friend skypes me and tells me that her high school buddy just died of brain cancer. He was just married eight month's ago to her other high school friend. As if my other friends little talk didn't put some things into perspective this conversation with her sealed it into place.

Now, my own death issues aside, the fact is that life on this planet is finite. Worrying and feeling sorry for yourself is just taking up time you could be spending having fun and growing into a healthy member of the human race. I shouldn't cry because somethings over I should smile because it happened.

Can't Sleep

I have been having the hardest time sleeping lately. I lay in my bed tossing and turning looking around my room with eyes that have adjusted to the dark. Late last week I was having a particularly difficult time falling asleep and I ended up staying awake all night. My brain was overloaded with...crap. I could not stop thinking. I mean it, I thought about everything. I thought about my entire life. EVERYTHING! It was something else and I'm still a little messed up by it. I had to work a 12 hour day too so needless to say my day kind of sucked. If you lay in your bed for long enough, listening to the sound of your own breathing, you can't help but think about your life. All the choices you made, all the choices you didn't make. If you're cursed with a good memory it can be even more maddening. I'm jealous of those of you who have horrible memories. I think having a bad memory might be some kind of self-defense mechanism I don't have. I think if you have a bad memory it's easier to go through life.

But, I also think people with bad memories are just naturally selfish...but they also might be happier. Think about it, you can go through life, make really bad choices or do really fucked up shit to other people but in time you'll forget all about it. The only problem is that you lose stories in the process and I wouldn't give up any of my stories for all the money in the world. Even the ones where I come out looking like a total asshole and deservedly so.

So my mind has been racing because I just don't know what it is I want to do. I was offered a job last week. Administration (as their known) called me into their office or rather her office. I have no idea what her name is but she started talking to me like we were old friends. She was on the phone when I arrived at her office and she motioned for me to sit down. After about ten minutes of listening to a conversation in Korean I turned my Ipod on and put my headphones on. After another five minutes she finished her phone conversation and I was kind of annoyed.

She asked me what my plans were for after my new contract extension was over. I told her that I planned on going back to the U.S. for the summer and then figuring out what I wanted to do in September. She cut right to the chase. She asked me if I wanted to stay at my current job and accept a new position they were creating. It just so happens that this position required training that was going to start that Thursday and last for four weeks.

This training would basically certify me to teach English internationally. But I would have to sign another year contract and I would work only with Korean adult English teachers. I would also be making almost double what I make now. It's that double part that got me to raise an eyebrow. That's a lot of money that I don't have to pay taxes on with very little expenses. That's a lot of money I could save. But...I don't want to be a teacher. I don't want to teach. I'm not really in love with Korea. They wanted an answer right then and there. I had no time to think about it. That's kind of how this entire country works. It was a good job offer. But I need to come home for the summer. I need to see my friends and hang out with my family for a while. I'd like to hold my nieces hand and explain to her why Batman is the coolest superhero ever created.

I declined the offer and suggested a friend of mine who works with me. To my surprise they took my suggestion seriously (this rarely happens) and she started training last Thursday. But here's the fucked up thing, they offered her a lot less than they offered me. I told her to ask for more money after she told me what they wanted to give her to resign. People need to get over this whole men should be paid more than women bullshit. Truth be told, she's more qualified for that job than I am anyways. She's got a teaching degree for starters and I will never give a fuck about present progressive.

I think this has been weighing on me heavily because I know the economy is going to be shitty for a while back in the U.S. and the odds of me finding a job that allows me to live isn't very likely. I'm probably going to have to come back overseas in September of next year but that was the other main reason I didn't' take the job. They were only going to let me go home for one month and that month would have been the middle of June to the middle of July. I told them I needed all three months back home. It's going to take me three months to get sick of everybody and want to leave again.

This is just a little bit of what I think about when I can't sleep at night. I think about all that fucking money I just pissed away. But I can't work a job that I don't like and that job sounded horribly boring. But...I do like having money. It's nice to be able to, you know, eat.

My summer is looking better and better by the way. Just heard from my old college roommate. Which means I have yet another state to go and visit during my 90 days of probation back in the states. Colorado. It's been a while and I actually miss the the place. Here's what I figured out about my plans when I'm done here. I'm either going to move to L.A. (in which case I will become famous), I'm going to move to Chicago (in which case I will only be a six hour train ride from my birth place), I'm going to stay in Portland (in which case I'll kill Alex for destroying my car)or I'm going to go international again (South America, U.A.E, or somewhere in Asia).

Okay enough about that. Topic change. I had to go out to dinner with one of my friends and this guy who she's seeing because he wanted to meet me. It was probably the most entertaining evening I've had in a long time. This dude basically wanted to know if I was a weasel who was trying to get with his girlfriend. By the end of the night I was pretty sure he had a crush on me. Damn I'm charming! I can understand where he was coming from though. There's nothing worse than a weaselly ass dude who pretends to be something else. I think all his fears were put to rest after she told him I went for manicures with her and the rest of "the girls." He kind of gave me a sideways glance and I just raised my shoulders up a little like "whatever."

I have some how managed to befriend every married, engaged and non-single woman at my work place. I have single friends too, but most of them are taken. Which means, I'm a sounding board, which I don't really mind. Sometimes I wonder if I should have been born a female. Yeah, I just wrote that shit! I'll write it again fuckers! SOMETIMES I WONDER IF I SHOULD HAVE BEEN BORN A FEMALE...but then I realize that the reason I get along so well with women is because I'm a guy. I'm just a girls guy. I'm a dude who enjoys the company of women more than men. One of my friends recently told me that if I was a little bit more of a dick I'd be real hot shit.

First of all, I am a dick. Secondly, what the fuck? I am so sick of that whole women like assholes thing...but sometimes, it's true. But, I think I'm too old for those kind of games. Again, I don't really know what I want but I know what I don't want. I don't want to be with someone who can't be honest with me even when it's something I might not wanna hear. Here's what I've realized in my old age. There's "not telling the truth" and there's "not being honest." I think not being honest is way worse than not telling the truth. Not telling the truth is something you do when you're panicked. It's a heat of the moment impulse to save yourself or to get out of a tense situation with a lie. But then there's being dishonest. Being dishonest takes skill. Being dishonest is a character flaw rather than a moment of weakness. Being dishonest takes away a piece of your grace and no good ever comes from it. Being dishonest stays with you for a long long time.

Lastly, I'd like to send a message to a few of my single lady friends, you know who you are. There is nothing wrong with being single. Right? Being single can be fun and it gives you a chance to really get to know yourself. Who you are as a solo artist...without the band making all that noise behind you right? Lois was Lois before Superman came around and she'll continue to be Lois after he flies away. Okay, I'm not gonna lie, that was a secret message to someone, but my point is this...all of you are wonderful people. As long as you stay true to yourself, you can't go wrong...and I'm not just saying this because I'm going to be homeless when I get back and need a couch to crash on.

A message from a Breeder

What is it about marriage that people are claiming they want to protect? I'm just curious cause I've never been married and I can't say the shits really in my future. But I wanna know what's so sweet about marriage that only heterosexual people should be allowed to do it? I've heard a few different arguments and I'm just not convinced. People need to stop pretending like marriage is this sacred thing because if it was so freaking sacred there would not be so many divorces and miserable people who wish they never met their current spouse. I'm annoyed because human beings are being treated like their lives are not as important as other human beings because they are gay. What the fuck? If you think you're better than someone because he or she is gay and you are not then just be honest about that. Don't hide behind your religion. Just come out and say that YOU are an asshole who thinks your better than a particular group of people and that they should not have the same rights that you enjoy simply because you are who you are and they are who they are.

This seems to be how it always starts. You single out a particular group of folks and deny them certain rights and certain protections. Why stop at fucking marriage? Why don't we make all gay people register with a special agency so we can keep tabs on them. Better yet we can make them wear special uniforms so that everyone can tell us and them? "Oh, Chris you're being ridiculous right now we would never do that. It is America after all." But that is what we (our society) are doing. We are telling people that they don't deserve what everyone else has. We are telling our brothers our sisters our aunts our uncles our mothers our fathers our grandparents that something is wrong with them. We are telling them that they are less than we are.

Can you imagine if people tried to put an age limit on people getting married? I'm not talking about ten year olds who want to get married, I'm talking about those old ass men who get married to those young ass girls. What if the country decided that this should not be allowed because marriage should be reserved for people who were no more than ten years apart in age? That shit would never fly. If you're one of those people who thinks "if we allow the gays to marry then people will be able to marry animals soon after that" then you are a fool. You are a fool and I want you to turn the power off to your computer and don't' bother reading my blogs any more.

I'm so annoyed by the ease at which people discriminate against "The Gays". I'm drawing my line in the sand about the situation because this homophobia is an extension of the hate and the pain that affects all of us. If you don't think all this shit is connected you really need to take a step back and open your eyes. If the tone of my blog sounds a little angry then you should quit your job and become and detective cause you're right on. I am angry and you should be angry too because shit like this doesn't stop until people group together and stop it.

I was listening to this conversation between these two guys at my work place and they were discussing the current situation in the United States with some states like California voting not to make marriage between same sex couples legal. The things that were coming out of their mouths sparked something inside of me and I could not remain silent. I asked them why they were so afraid of gay people and they did not like that question at all. After about two minutes of denial, insults, questions and answers the larger guy said "It's just wrong okay, it's just wrong!" He got up and walked away and I came home to write this blog. It's just wrong? This is the same guy who doesn't like Jewish people by the way. I've talked about him before and the more I hear him talk the less I want him around other people.

Before he got up and said his final statement he asked me why I cared so much and followed that question up with a "Are you gay?" This is a classic question men like to ask other men who don't engage in homophobic commentary with the group. I know this because when I was in middle school the most ridiculous comments about gay people used to come out of my mouth. But I'm not in middle school any more. I'm an adult who understands the power of words and the need for transformation. It's a shame that gay people have to be over joyed when states like Connecticut legalize marriage for them. Can you imagine, being so excited just because you are "allowed" to marry. I can't. You know why, because that right has never been denied to me. I can get married whenever and wherever the fuck I want. I take that shit for granted. All people should be able to take marriage for granted not just heterosexuals. I know a lot of married people who take marriage for granted for Christ sake!

I hope one day there is no gay marriage. I hope there is just marriage and that it doesn't require the gay at the beginning of it. When two people of different races marry they don't call it "Interracial marriage" do they? Nope, it's just marriage. When an old man marries a twenty year old they don't call it "What the fuck marriage" do they? Nope. It's just marriage and that is my hope for the gay communities of the world.

As a person who was raised in the Christian faith I have to tell you that all the stories I've heard and read about Jesus make me think he would not be very happy with how so many of you have behaved about this issue. As a matter of fact I have a feeling he would be pretty freaking ashamed of you. I don't have a problem with religion. It's not for me, but to each their own. But when to each their own becomes you have your hand in everyone else's cookie jar you need your hand fucking slapped...hard.

I'm not gay but I think it's just as important for me to speak out against the mistreatment of gay folk in our society. This shit is not solely a "gay issue", it's a human issue. I was raised to know the difference between right and wrong and to speak up when I saw or heard wrong going on. That's what I plan on doing.

Progress can be slowed down but it can never be stopped. The recent elections are proof of this. I guess we have to decide if we want to live in a society that is ruled by fear and oppression or one that is ruled by hope acceptance and equality for all peoples. My very existence is one that was born in the fires of perseverance, faith and courage. I want to make sure that I'm on the right side of history when people look back at our time on this planet. I've said this before and I'll say it again. Do you wanna be in that black and white photo stand back watching a lynching or do you wanna be in that black and white photo marching for equal rights?

Think about it.
Laters.

Purpose and Meaning/ McDonalds and Ketchup

I just got off the phone with one of my oldest and dearest friends. He called me this morning to talk but also so his very young children could ask me questions about what it's like to live on the other side of the world. It was cute for sure but I hope I did not scare them when I said it was a cold and lonely place full of evil doers who want to kill me...just kidding, I didn't' tell them that. They seemed to get a kick out of the fact that it was day time here and night time back in Michigan. My favorite part of the conversation was when the youngest little girl asked her daddy "When can we go bye-bye?" I love the honesty children have. It was short, true and to the point. Talking to some guy on a computer who claims to be your daddy's friend can't be exciting for very long. Before I got off the phone with my buddy and his wife he asked me "so when are you going to grow up?" I laughed but then I gave the question some serious thought. I don't' believe that I will ever grow up in the traditional sense of the phrase.

I have spent so much of my life planning and taking care of things I think need to be taken care of that I forgot to have fun and enjoy myself. Some of you have commented on how relaxed I seem to be lately and you're right. I feel more at ease and comfortable in my body then I have in any other period of my life. This must be what it feels like to be Toby. I've never spent time with someone who just lives in their body that much but I can't blame him, it feels great.

Does this mean I am a completely different person? Of course not. I'm still responsible and I still give 100% when I'm doing something but that same pressure doesn't seem to be there. I still worry about things and on occasion I still think I have ball cancer but I don't obsess about it. I still tell bad jokes and I spend a little too much time in front of the mirror. My face has been hurting lately and I realized it's because I've been smiling more than I have in years. It's like when Dorthy steps outside her home for the first time after the tornado slams it down to the ground. The door slowly opens and BAM, Tecno-color! My eyes are still having a hard time adjusting to all these bright colors.

I feel like the golden ticket winners in Charlie and the Chocolate factory. They walk into that room where everything is eatable and they can't believe it. Well that's pretty much where I'm at, I can't believe it...life seems to be getting better and better. Better in the sense that I'm growing as a person and I'm learning new things every day. People are walking lesson plans and all you have to do is talk to them to learn something. Some lesson plans suck and you don't ever open them again and some lesson plans are fascinating and you take your time to learn from them.

My buddy is very happy with his life. He is married to a woman who is beautiful and a lot smarter than he is and children who look way better than he did at that age. I could hear the happiness in his voice as he had to go to put his little girls to bed. Happy comes in many different forms and you have to find the form that best suits you. He has a career that interests him and a family that he loves.

I think I'll know what suits me when I see it. I don't think it will be in the form it came in for my buddy but that would be boring if we all led the same lives. I know that my happiness will not depend on finding the right individual or finding a good job. These are not bad things and these are probably things that will one day be a part of my life. But for now I'm walking down the path by myself, keeping an eye out for purpose and meaning enjoying the folks that I bump into every once in a while.

Before I go I'd like to tell you a random ass story from my childhood. I recently looked at some of the comments to my blogs and I noticed one from my brother Benji or Ben as he would like to be called. Now, my brother and I are not nearly as close as some siblings are but we have always had a strong connection when it comes to our sense of humor. Laughing and making fun of life in general has been a constant bridge of communication in our lives with each other. I don't normally take request but since he is my OLDER brother I'm going to honor his and tell you the story about the time my mother forced me to ask for "Catsup" (This will all make sense shortly)

I don't' think I was much older than a 3rd grader but my mom stopped by McDonald's so my brother and I could get something to eat. We ordered our food and my mom told me to go back up to the young lady at the counter and ask for some Catsup (pronounced Cat-Sup). I said something like "don't you mean Ketchup?" (pronounced Catch-up) My mom looked at my brother and then back at me and she insisted that it was pronounced "Cat-Sup." My brother found this to be hilarious but I found it to be troubling because situations like this always seemed to fall into my lap.

My sense of discomfort was dead on because my mom made me go up to the counter and ask for Ketchup but saying it the way she had said it. I refused at first but I knew it was useless. When you're that age you don't' really have any power. You're forced to wear ugly clothes, you're forced to go to boring family reunions, you're forced to take long vacations and apparently, sometimes you are forced to ask for "Cat-sup" instead of "Ketchup" at McDonalds.

I remember my brother walking up to the counter by my side. Not in a role of support but as a witness to the execution. He was giggling all the way to the young lady. His face was full of excitement and anticipation. As I waited for the over-weight man wearing a red flannel shirt to finish his order panic consumed me. I looked at the exits. I could make a run for it. I mean, I was already pretty fast at that age and there was no way my mom could catch me. But I was so damn hungry and McDonalds french fries were like crack. I wasn't going any where. The man finished ordering his future heart attack and I walked up to young woman. She recognized me from my previous order and said something like "hello again." I had not noticed how pretty she was the first time I was there. She had soft features and a pleasant voice. She was probably in high school and played either basketball or soccer. I took a deep breath and swallowed hard. I said "Excuse me Ms. but could I have some extra packets of...(I paused and my brother looked at me sideways)of...(I exhaled deeply, I was defeated) Catsup?" For one painfully long moment she paused. Then, to my horror, she said "What?" I had to repeat myself..."Could I have some extra Catsup please?" My brother started laughing silently and a wide smile grew across the young woman's face. She looked at me like a lost puppy and said these words which I will never forget as long as I live. She said "Awwww, that's so cute, you said Cat-sup instead Ketchup." I got my fries that day but I lost a piece of my soul.

Warm Whispers

I had no idea I would be so affected by the election of Barack Obama. I watched most of the coverage with some friends who live down the road from me. As the call got closer and closer I felt a strong urge to return to my apartment and watch the remaining coverage on my own. I poured myself some cranberry juice and settled into my couch to wait for the call. Because of the time difference between the States and Korea most of us got up early because we did not want to miss any of the election coverage over here. Had I known we wouldn't get the call until 1:30 pm Korean time I might have caught a few extra hours of sleep.

I woke up this morning with a knot in my stomach and hope in my heart. I went for a long jog and convinced myself that I had to push a little longer today for good luck. It's pretty cold out today but I jogged about two more miles than I usually do to show my inner support for President Elect Barack Obama.

Anyways, I was sitting on my couch, sipping my cranberry juice, ignorning phone calls from the friends I had just left. When CNN finally called the election I hit the mute button on my television and watched the silent screen. They went to several different camera shots of peoples reactions from all around the world. I watched in silence for about two minutes until my eyes started to burn. I had felt empty up to this point. The sensation in my eyes began to fill me up until it spilled over and I was sitting alone in my apartment with salty tears running down my face.

I was shocked by my own reaction but understood my body was operating seperately from my mind at this point. I held my head in my hands and just waited until I was done. It took a while, and during this time I found myself thinking about the past, more specifically, my past. At a young age, in a school whose mascot was Jesus, I was told repeatedly all the things that I could not do and all of the things that I would never be. I was taught by negative associations because of what I looked like. These negative comments have remained with me to some degree ever since. Ghosts from my past whispering in my ear telling me I'm not quite good enough.

I thought, that if I had ghost then my parents must have demons, and if my parents had demons then their parents must have had devils. Oddly, this gave me a feeling of relief because life moves forward and I should not have to deal with the problems my parents had to deal with growing up. Life should improve from generation to generation.

Today, I truly believe that the seeds of hope, peace and real change have been sown and are being watered by tears of joy and pride.

It is my hope that through communication, hard work, acceptance and love the only thing whispering into the ears of my children will be warm summer breezes.

The world that we decide to live in is up to all of us.

1.Black Face 2. I forgot about myself

First things first. I have a message for white people. This message has nothing to do with the elections. It has to do with Halloween. White people...if you decide that you are going to be a black person for Halloween then make sure you have cleared the idea with your black friends. If you don't have any black friends then that right there is a great reason for you to reconsider your idea of being a black person for Halloween. It does not matter if this black person is Barack Obama or some random Jamaican with the "funny" dread wig. I can tell you right now that there are maybe 10 white people total, on the planet, that can get away with dressing up as a black person on Halloween. The question you have to ask yourself is do you really believe you are one of those white people? The odds are you aren't.

The problem with dressing us as a black person for white people is that you are not black. This means that you get it inside your heads that it will be funny or a good idea to put black make-up on your face. Trust me white people, this is never a good idea. Remember, ten of you can pull this off, the rest of you are risking a serious ass whip-n! What's worse about putting on "black face" for Halloween is putting on the black face and doing your impression of a black person. This would be like a deer in a forest covering itself in neon paint and making noise to draw attention to all the surrounding hunters. It's just not smart. I saw so many Barack Obamas on Halloween and a few Jamaican white folks.

Here's another clue that you have chosen the wrong Halloween outfit. If you are white and you can't look a black person in the face when you come across them because you are dressed up as a black person then you are NOT one of the chosen ten. Every white dude I came across realized they made a mistake when they saw me. I gave them a look and they went from laughing with their friends to staring at the cement. The reason I'm giving this advice, which is free, is because I saw a white dude dressed as a Jamaican get roughed up by some dudes the other night. My first reaction was to interject myself into the tussle but I didn't. Not because I was scared but because sometimes people need to learn lessons the hard way. This white dude didn't just make the mistake of putting on full black face but he made his lips really red and really big. He looked like a minstrel show (look it up if you don't know)and that shit does not fly with my generation. This guy was not beat down but I can guarantee you he will never put on a "black face" again. Of course he could have been taught this lesson in a less violent way but shit happens.

Now to all the white dudes who dressed up as Barack Obama and put on the light skinned black dude make up I have to say that you really lucked out. Because Barack is running for president I think this shielded you from an ass whip-n. There's not a single black dude who could bring himself to harm any image of Barack at this point. You got lucky bitches. But you still lose major points for thinking the idea was funny.

Basically my message is this, if you are white it is never funny to dress up in Black face, unless you are the chosen ten. One of my buddies at my work place asked my permission if he could go out as me. He happens to be one of the chosen ten. I explained to him that I would allow it but then I explained to him all it would involve. After hearing my explanation he decided not to. Here's what it would have involved if my friend went out as me for Halloween. I would have had final costume approval. He would have had to get the skin tone exactly right. He would not have been able to do anything with his lips. He would not have been able to do his impression of a black man. This means he would not be able to change his voice or his walk. But most importantly I told him that I would have had to remain by his side for the majority of the night to explain to people that he was "not" making fun of black people and had my permission. Basically I would have had to remain close to him to prevent people from yelling at him or beating his ass like the poor dude dressed as a Jamaican found out the hard way.

Ask yourself this, why don't you see black people dressed as white people for Halloween? Why don't you see black people in white face on Halloween? The answer is simple, black people don't need the excuse and cover of a holiday to make fun of white people. I make fun of white people on a daily basis. I don't need to pretend like I'm white to do this I just need to listen to current events and I get all the material I need for the day. Except for Alex, I'm pretty sure all of my white friends had enough common sense not to dawn the black make-up this past Friday.

Moving on. I forgot how much damn fun I am. I like to have fun. I like to dance. I like to impressions of people. My latest impression is Billy Cosby doing an impression of the Godfather. I'm not just saying this because I'm me, it's pretty freaking funny. I've been closed off for a really long time and I've got no one to blame but myself. I think I go through periods of my life where I just close myself off to the world but that shit really isn't fun and I hope to never do it again. There are too many things to do in this life time and on this planet to sink deep inside yourself. I forgot how much fun the simple act of dancing is.

I was listening to Cornell West (look him up) on the radio recently and he said that "music is what we need when language fails us but we cannot remain silent." I agree with this statement whole heartedly. I've been listening to all kinds of music lately and dancing when I get the chance. It's really therapeutic for me. This may sound strange but when I'm dancing and listening to really good music I can feel my body heal itself from wounds I didn't even realize were there.

I feel like I'm waking up. I feel like I'm more aware than I have been in a long time. I'm letting go and holding on at the same time. I have had some of the most amazing conversations with people lately. I'm inspired by what people are doing with their lives. I've got a lot a great friends (except Alex) out there. I'm making some really good new friends because I'm opening myself up to meeting people. It's difficult at times because I have a bubble around me that has been years in the making. But lately I'm just remembering how much damn fun I am. These are definitely serious times but I can't lose myself in them. I'm looking forward to hearing more from those of you I have been communicating with and from those of you I have not heard from in a while...except you Alex. You can go straight to hell!

Before I go I would encourage those of you who do not have skype to download it onto your computer. You can talk to or instant message anyone around the world for free. I'm sure it won't always be free but for now it is so take advantage of it. To those of you who I skype with my skype just got deleted somehow and I'm in the process of redownloading it so I'll probably have to ask for your information again when I'm back on.

Okay, I'm done. Take care of yourselves and remember to vote!