Thursday, January 22, 2004

Chuc Mung Nam Moi! Gung Hay Fat Choy! Saehae Bok Mani Paduseyo!

the annual Lunar New Year poem! Year of the Monkey!

Under the shadow of the new moon,
a young monkey's lips find his mother's
full bosom for the first time.

While he sucks, she grooms him
creating rows through his hair
like the young rice plantings
in the valley below.

Atop the hill, a ram long lost
from the herd rests, lays
his heavy horned head
while a light snow blankets him.

His nostrils twitch slightly
from the fragrance of three
incense sticks burning
at the altar of ancestors
next to moon cakes

and a cup of water where tea leaves unfurl the

future.

Chuc Mung Nam Moi! Gung Hay Fat Choy! Saehae Bok Mani Padusey!

the annual Lunar New Year poem! Year of the Monkey!

Under the shadow of the new moon, a young monkey's lips find his mother's full bosom for the first time.

While he sucks, she grooms him creating rows through his hair like the young rice plantings in the valley below.

Atop the hill, a ram long lost from the herd rests, lays his heavy horned head while a light snow blankets him for the last time.

His nostrils twitch slightly from the fragrence of 3 incense sticks that burn next to rice cakes

and a cup of water where tea leaves unfurl the

future.

Sunday, January 18, 2004

Recycling and renewing

While Tatang is learning to say goodbye, there are ways to give your stuff a new life. Often I end up keeping stuff because I think I will use it again, but I never do. Do I seriously think I'm going to fit into a size 6 pair of jeans again? Or I think that the stuff is still in good condition and is usable, but the thing is I don't use it or need it anymore.

But rather than have it go straight to the junk yard there are a lot of venues to give your old stuff new life.


  1. Have a garage sale - We've been having garage sales with a bunch of friends, which is a lot more fun and entertaining when you're sitting through the afternoon. It also gives more incentive to buyers because there's more stuff and variety. The $1 a bag during the last hour helps too. People can't resist something just being a dollar. We also found that often we would just trade stuff.
  2. Salvation Army, Goodwill - They take just about anything, but you should call to make sure. Most nowadays don't take old computer equipment, but some of them may take appliances.
  3. Give books to the library - Many libraries take donations of books which they sell at semi-annual book sales. It's also a good place to pick up books for 50 cents at these sales.
  4. Computer recycling - I love this organization! There needs to be an Alameda County Computer Recycling Center in every county. There are a lot of toxic chemicals and metal elements in your electronics components which cannot just get dumped into the landfills. Organizations like ACCRC either fix the equipment so schools and community organizations can use them again, but they also recycle the equipment by taking out the toxic elements.
  5. Craig's List - if you've got something, somebody wants it AND they might pick it up at your place.
  6. Other resources - Many communities have places to recycle or dispose of just about anything and everything. From furniture to appliances to paint and chemicals.


Recycling and renewing

While Tatang is learning to say goodbye, there are ways to give your stuff a new life. Often I end up keeping stuff because I think I will use it again, but I never do. Do I seriously think I'm going to fit into a size 6 pair of jeans again? Or I think that the stuff is still in good condition and is usable, but the thing is I don't use it or need it anymore.

But rather than have it go straight to the junk yard there are a lot of venues to give your old stuff new life.


  1. Have a garage sale - We've been having garage sales with a bunch of friends, which is a lot more fun and entertaining when you're sitting through the afternoon. It also gives more incentive to buyers because there's more stuff and variety. The $1 a bag during the last hour helps too. People can't resist something just being a dollar. We also found that often we would just trade stuff.
  2. Salvation Army, Goodwill - They take just about anything, but you should call to make sure. Most nowadays don't take old computer equipment, but some of them may take appliances.
  3. Give books to the library - Many libraries take donations of books which they sell at semi-annual book sales. It's also a good place to pick up books for 50 cents at these sales.
  4. Computer recycling - I love this organization! There needs to be an Alameda County Computer Recycling Center in every county. There are a lot of toxic chemicals and metal elements in your electronics components which cannot just get dumped into the landfills. Organizations like ACCRC either fix the equipment so schools and community organizations can use them again, but they also recycle the equipment by taking out the toxic elements.
  5. Craig's List - if you've got something, somebody wants it AND they might pick it up at your place.
  6. Other resources - Many communities have places to recycle or dispose of just about anything and everything. From furniture to appliances to paint and chemicals.


Saturday, January 17, 2004

Aiha'a on settling down

Corinne writes about considering buying a house. She wonders about being committed to a location, about her honu heart that seeks other places carrying home with her.

It's been two years since I bought my home, a condo really. I couldn't afford a house and a condo was closer to my apartment arrangement and seemed less committal than a house.

My parents who live here who were worried about their children being forced to live farther and farther away decided to help their children buy a home. They figured we had decent enough jobs to keep up with the mortgage.

At the time I had just gotten comfortable at my studio that overlooked an Ethiopian restaurant. Buying a house wasn't even an idea in my mind until my parents placed it there. Watching as my rent creeped slowly upward, the idea of paying myself with a mortgage didn't sound so bad, but I wondered too about opening one door to close others.

I kept wondering about my dreams to move to another place, travel the world for several months at a time, about the freedom of being single and unattached to anything. I watched as friends went to live in the Philippines for months at a time, wondered if I would ever be able to do that.

I went along with the home searching just to see and fill my curiosity. It was fun pretending to look at houses even ones I couldn't afford with my wildest imagination. But then my father would ask about whether I wanted to make a bid on one. He would discuss rising mortgage rates and timing and bidding wars. So I bid on one I thought I liked, I was fortunately overbid on that one.

Certainly a mortgage committs one to have an income, a consistent one at that. It's scary. Can't afford to lose your job, what happens to your house? Having a university job helps out. But even in this economy you wonder.

I remembered when my music teacher in high school bought a house and he misplaced for a moment the mortgage payment stubs. His face went ghostly pale, his eyes glistened wide in panic. He eventually found them safely tucked away in his bag. But I remembered the fear he had.

I continued to search. I figured if I'm getting pressured to buy a place, I was going to buy a really good place, a place that I could really make a home. I found one, this one. The building was well kept and was barely in my price range. There were two bidders. The other guy made a first bid $30K more than the asking price. Bastards! My broker was active in the negotiations with the seller. He even wrote up a sweet little blurb about me and my family. Afterall, this place had been her home too and the owner wanted it to go to good people. She liked us. She wanted to sell.

My broker calls, he says if I match the $30K, they'll sell to me and not consider the other bidder. I had to decide now. My broker was a nice man, he always left the decision up to me and never pressured me either way. He would go with whatever I would decide. I just wish I knew what my answer would be. I had kept my Taroh Cards on hand asking them what I should do. The cards were indifferent, I could decide either way. They along with my broker were waiting for my answer. I could feel this pressure well up in my chest, my back stiffening, my breath quivering, numbers and calculations racing through my mind. I know this feeling. It's the feeling of being on a precipice, knowing in my heart I should jump to the other side, yet fearing my fate if I should fail.

"Yes." I heard myself say, "Yes. yes. go for it. I'll match them."

"OK" click.

I put the phone down, slumped onto my bed. My hands were cold and shaking. I exhaled and melted into the sheets. I couldn't believe it. I bought a house. FUCK! what did I just do! None of my friends had bought homes. Buying homes were for my uncles and aunts who bought homes combining the incomes of 4 jobs. Buying homes were for married couples looking to have a place for their kid on the way. I'm not supposed to be a homeowner, I'm a single unattched woman still in her 20s, but I am. Shit!

The days that followed were a crash course in home sales. I would later bring a check the downpayment to the title company and signed over 50 pages like signing my life away.

Now that I've been here for 2 years, it hasn't been so bad. I enjoy bringing people into my home for gatherings. I think about the world in color now that I can paint the interior of my walls rather than the standard white of rented abodes.

I still dream of having homes in different parts of the world. My fiance and I talk about where we want these multiple abodes. I still think about places to travel and linger for a while. I think someday about how I will move from here, perhaps keep the property and rent it out. My friends now read "Rich dad, poor dad" books, put bids to buy homes in Las Vegas and elsewhere looking for that residual income that will allow them to quit their jobs someday. My taxes are slightly more complicated, no more EZ form for me, but then again, you can't deduct most of your rental payments like you can your mortgage payments.

I find that my dreams of my future are the same, yet different. I am still that single woman dreaming of living and travelling around the world, but I did committ to having a home, and being at home no matter where I physically was. I found I could always create home, that the power of home wasn't in the walls that I could paint, but in my heart, like the honu that swims the oceans. Home is where I make it.

Aiha'a on settling down

Corinne writes about considering buying a house. She wonders about being committed to a location, about her honu heart that seeks other places carrying home with her.

It's been two years since I bought my home, a condo really. I couldn't afford a house and a condo was closer to my apartment arrangement and seemed less committal than a house.

My parents who live here who were worried about their children being forced to live farther and farther away decided to help their children buy a home. They figured we had decent enough jobs to keep up with the mortgage.

At the time I had just gotten comfortable at my studio that overlooked an Ethiopian restaurant. Buying a house wasn't even an idea in my mind until my parents placed it there. Watching as my rent creeped slowly upward, the idea of paying myself with a mortgage didn't sound so bad, but I wondered too about opening one door to close others.

I kept wondering about my dreams to move to another place, travel the world for several months at a time, about the freedom of being single and unattached to anything. I watched as friends went to live in the Philippines for months at a time, wondered if I would ever be able to do that.

I went along with the home searching just to see and fill my curiosity. It was fun pretending to look at houses even ones I couldn't afford with my wildest imagination. But then my father would ask about whether I wanted to make a bid on one. He would discuss rising mortgage rates and timing and bidding wars. So I bid on one I thought I liked, I was fortunately overbid on that one.

Certainly a mortgage committs one to have an income, a consistent one at that. It's scary. Can't afford to lose your job, what happens to your house? Having a university job helps out. But even in this economy you wonder.

I remembered when my music teacher in high school bought a house and he misplaced for a moment the mortgage payment stubs. His face went ghostly pale, his eyes glistened wide in panic. He eventually found them safely tucked away in his bag. But I remembered the fear he had.

I continued to search. I figured if I'm getting pressured to buy a place, I was going to buy a really good place, a place that I could really make a home. I found one, this one. The building was well kept and was barely in my price range. There were two bidders. The other guy made a first bid $30K more than the asking price. Bastards! My broker was active in the negotiations with the seller. He even wrote up a sweet little blurb about me and my family. Afterall, this place had been her home too and the owner wanted it to go to good people. She liked us. She wanted to sell.

My broker calls, he says if I match the $30K, they'll sell to me and not consider the other bidder. I had to decide now. My broker was a nice man, he always left the decision up to me and never pressured me either way. He would go with whatever I would decide. I just wish I knew what my answer would be. I had kept my Taroh Cards on hand asking them what I should do. The cards were indifferent, I could decide either way. They along with my broker were waiting for my answer. I could feel this pressure well up in my chest, my back stiffening, my breath quivering, numbers and calculations racing through my mind. I know this feeling. It's the feeling of being on a precipice, knowing in my heart I should jump to the other side, yet fearing my fate if I should fail.

"Yes." I heard myself say, "Yes. yes. go for it. I'll match them."

"OK" click.

I put the phone down, slumped onto my bed. My hands were cold and shaking. I exhaled and melted into the sheets. I couldn't believe it. I bought a house. FUCK! what did I just do! None of my friends had bought homes. Buying homes were for my uncles and aunts who bought homes combining the incomes of 4 jobs. Buying homes were for married couples looking to have a place for their kid on the way. I'm not supposed to be a homeowner, I'm a single unattched woman still in her 20s, but I am. Shit!

The days that followed were a crash course in home sales. I would later bring a check the downpayment to the title company and signed over 50 pages like signing my life away.

Now that I've been here for 2 years, it hasn't been so bad. I enjoy bringing people into my home for gatherings. I think about the world in color now that I can paint the interior of my walls rather than the standard white of rented abodes.

I still dream of having homes in different parts of the world. My fiance and I talk about where we want these multiple abodes. I still think about places to travel and linger for a while. I think someday about how I will move from here, perhaps keep the property and rent it out. My friends now read "Rich dad, poor dad" books, put bids to buy homes in Las Vegas and elsewhere looking for that residual income that will allow them to quit their jobs someday. My taxes are slightly more complicated, no more EZ form for me, but then again, you can't deduct most of your rental payments like you can your mortgage payments.

I find that my dreams of my future are the same, yet different. I am still that single woman dreaming of living and travelling around the world, but I did committ to having a home, and being at home no matter where I physically was. I found I could always create home, that the power of home wasn't in the walls that I could paint, but in my heart, like the honu that swims the oceans. Home is where I make it.

Monday, January 12, 2004

kudos!

Congrats, Eileen!

Maligayang Bati, Tatang!

Saturday, January 10, 2004

it's not singing really

Yes, Veronica, Strategic Karaoke Song Selection (SKSS) for the out of tune singers. Forget about the long slow ballads! Gotta pick the upbeat swinging, disco dance fever kind of melodies that have 4 words repeated over and over to a fabulous beat.

I'm not much of a singer either. Though I know enough to play lots of different instruments (clarinet, saxophone, flute) and I can read single notes well enough, I'm not a good singer. Actually I learned I have a good memory for sound, so much so that when I learn a tune that starts on a specific note, that's the only way I remember it. It explains my lack of ability in kulintang. I can learn a song quite quickly, but only on the instrument I learned it on. Make me play the tune on a different set that sounds different (lower or higher tone) and it's all over. I can't change key.

And because of this, I never liked the sound of my voice either. But when I realized that my drunk uncles could get a 98, while my brother (who has extensive vocal training) scores a 72 and is told to try harder by the screen, that's when I knew karaoke is not about singing.

Then I went to Hawaii for a reunion of the tagalog abroad program I had done years ago. It was their 10th anniversary and the scholars were asked to come back. That evening we hit Waikiki and stopped at a hotel that had karaoke with a host. He was a sweet, encouraging man in a purple suit with some glitz on the lapel. I was too scared to go up, but a group of other women went up to sing Aretha Franklin's Respect.

There were four of them, none of them had really sung karaoke before. The fourth was doing it because the rest were doing it. She looked like she would just go up there and squeak by. Then the song played. Two of them shared each mic. Slowly as their eyes raced to catch up to the words on the screen, they start to feel the grove of the song. And then you see it in the 4th woman, the spark, as if the Pinoy karaoke gene that had lain dormant for so long had finally awakened. Her eyes grew large, the grip on the mic stronger, she pulled her lips closer to the foam cover.

"R-E-S-P-E-C-T find out what it means to me! Ooooh a little respect!"

And she just pulls the mic away from the other woman and is belting out this tune as if the fever had struck her! As if this were Sunday, and the Lord had summoned her forth! She sang that song with soul! oh my god!

Don't get me wrong, she also sang it horribly out of tune and loud! But that didn't matter! Her enjoyment was so contagious that the host who couldn't drag anyone up there had a long list of folks waiting to jump on stage.

She came back to the table as if drugged out of her mind! With a grin from ear to ear she flipped through the song book to sing again. I was blown out of the water! I didn't know karaoke could be like this. It's not about being perfect or the opera superstar or the next Mariah Carey, cuz if that were true, who would sing on Filipino television?

Sometimes, it's about singing a song that speaks to you and belting it out like you don't care. Cuz, honey, sometimes you just have to go up there and sing like Aretha and get you some respect!

I have other karaoke moments too. Like when we watched Laurence Fishbourne reprise a bit of Ike Turner singing "Proud Mary" at a karaoke bar in S.F. or singing at this Pinoy Restaurant in SF that felt like a jeepney stop in Manila where everything had that fried grease feel, even the seats, where the old man frying behind the counter would harmonize for you if you couldn't carry the tune by yourself while cooking your bangus, and then there was the time also in Hawaii we went to a small karaoke bar run by this really sweet transgender Samoan couple, where the woman flashed her fake boobs she just got in Thailand (and yes you could touch them if you wanted to verify the quality job they had done) and where another woman celebrating her 21st birthday wanted to buy me a drink in exchange for singing her a song. (No, I couldn't quite get myself to down the whole drink, and yes, I did sing "brown eyed girl.")

Friday, January 09, 2004

unstuffing the stuff

It's the new year. The irony of the new year is that after getting a lot of stuff in the holidaze, all we want to do is get rid of stuff in the New Year, like losing weight and stuff like that.

After losing that thing in December, I've been into the letting go thing. Though, these ideas of holding on/letting go as it's involved with material items has always fascinated me. I've written before about healing and feng shui and clutter. I hope to some day put all these notes I've been writing on the matter to a book format eventually.

I figured out where in my body that thing I didn't know I was hanging onto was residing in my body. It was just in the lower curve of my spine. It was this thing that sat like a pea that would cause uncomfortable pain in my back if I sat up straight for too long. It created this uneven balance that made my body tired from trying to stay up. Damn, that thing has been there for a really long time. I figured it out when I was sitting at my desk and changed position and realized, this is wierd. I'm still having to remind myself it's ok to sit up and stand up straight now. Consequently, there are all sorts of other muscles in my body that are sore as my body realigns itself. It creates a new perspective on the world.

I visited the friend I had helped clear house for way back when. They've added new things, thrown out more stuff that has gone past its use. All in all a very livable and inviting home now. My friend is doing much better as well. Clearing their home has meant seriously thinking about what they want to be a part of and involved in and making sure there's a balance.

Over the break we watched the Queer Eye for the Straight Guy marathon. That show where 5 gay men who are experts in: food/wine, fashion, interior design, grooming, and culture, target a straight man and make him look better. Unlike the one or two rooms, they redo their whole life and change how they see themselves and how they see their lives. It's like getting out of the mud. Hard if you are trying to pull yourself out, easier if someone helps you out. In one sense it's like learning to live into a new self.

Another friend has a health issue that is still uncertain. I told them to clear out what's underneath their bed because it's tied to another issue they're having. They've been avoiding it like the nighttime monsters that lurked there when they were children. The physical and material representation of their fears. They've been stalling, cleaning everything else except for that spot.

SFGate had an article on the JunkMan. This guy is also a psychology major. He understand the psychology of junk and the difficulties in letting it go.

We went to IKEA the other day after work. I know, why go to IKEA when you're trying to get rid of stuff? I went to see what I could do with the stuff I have. We came out of there with $22 worth of stuff: a clock, some batteries, an alarm clock and two artificial flowers. Then when I got home I swung open all the closet doors. I'm a bit Attention Deficit Syndrome when it comes to reorganizing. I'll fix this one thing, then jump to another then jump to another. Eventually, things get fixed together. Sometimes, I'll try to concentrate on a section to free up some space. I figure though, best to open all the closet doors where I've been stashing stuff I haven't dealt with in order to visually remind myself I've been stalling.

So far, I've put away a large box that was sitting in the living room forever, and finally got a shelf and arranged some books. I dumped the recycling. Gotten rid of junk mail. It's felt good.

I've been enjoying the lack of back pain. I feel like I have more energy, probably because I'm not longer using up all this energy to hang on.

Tomorrow I'm set to help a friend clear out his clutter. I've been encouraging him for a while. He says he's ready to let go now. So that's the plan. Bags for recyclables, clothes, trash. Letting go hurts. I understand. The pain is more momentary than simply hanging on. I'm sure we'll have to do this a few more times. Then why do it at all? Because there are greater things that he wants in his life, and he knows that in order to get new things, he has to let go of the old things.

Thursday, January 08, 2004

what your Pin@y nurse really thinks

what lurks in the minds of the Pilipino nurses? OK, it's just the mind of one nurse. Oh yeah, bust out your Tagalog dictionary too while you're at it.

eye candy

Check out the visually poetic feast at the Blue Kangaroo.

Humming along

Alright! Leny's got the Magic Mic Karaoke system! whoo-hoo! My parents have that. I borrowed it over the winter break while they were in the Philippines. It was so addicting with the score and canned applause at the end of each song!

Hey Leny, which Mic do you have? Is it black, gold or silver? There are several places in Vallejo that carry the Tagalog song chip for the models. Cost is about $150-$200 I think for each chip. But you get 1000 songs! Next thing you'll know you'll be crooning Freddie Aguilar's Anak and weeping after a Sharon Cuneta song.

So, for two weeks I would come home and just to kind of kick it, plug the mic in and sing whatever random song came up. There was something really relaxing about just singing and not just in the shower. Even Playstation 2 has a Karaoke video game that requires you to win applause from the crowd to get to the next level. OK, maybe my ego isn't ready for that kind of singing.

Anyway, I found the odd side effect to singing Karaoke. You start to sing along to the store music. I'm walking in Wal-Mart and Elton John's Daniel is playing, the non-lyrics synthetic canned version to croon shoppers to shop more. I start to sing the words to the song, now that I actually know the words. I catch myself singing, make sure I'm not singing too too loud, then continue to sing my private karaoke to the buzzing speakers overhead. No applause, no scoring. After the song, the speaker squawked that papertowels were on sale in aisle 27.

Wednesday, January 07, 2004

Thursday night: Poetry Mission @ DALVA

Got this forwarded from a college friend, Elz:

Hi Everyone!


Hope you all had a safe and happy New Year! This Thursday The Poetry Mission is proud to present Roxane Beth Johnson. She is a tremendous poet and orator. Tell your friends and let's get 2004 started right...


(And I promise this week's door prizes won't be Christmas presents I didn't want!)


Roxane Beth Johnson is a writer living in San Francisco. She teaches private poetry workshops and undergraduate creative writing at San Francisco State University, where she is also currently working on her MFA-Creative Writing. She was the 2003 recipient of the Ann Fields Poetry Award. Her work has appeared in Samsara Quarterly, Stirring Literary Review, Muse Apprentice and is forthcoming from ZYZZYVA.


Poetry Mission Thursdays @DALVA
3121 16th Street, near Valencia
WE'RE IN THE BACKROOM!!!
7p -- 9p
Feature Poet and Open Mic
hosted by elz
no cover
one drink minimum
21 and over w/ID
second and fourth
Thursdays of each month
door prizes
GET THERE:
14 Mission
22 Fillmore
26 Valencia
49 Van Ness
16th and Mission BART
questions?
call elz: 925 216 359

Tuesday, January 06, 2004

A trip through the Dunes

Sat through a viewing of Dune, both the David Lynch 1984 version and the Sci-Fi TV mini-series version. Must be the influence of being in LA and I mean far inland LA (an hour from UCLA, LA) where for the most part it's the dry arid suburbs.

Each of the versions have their own pluses and minuses. I don't think it's possible to really do a movie of Dune, unless it becomes a Lord of the Rings type endeavor/obsession.

I had watched the 1984 movie before reading the book. It actually makes less sense if you've read the book prior to watching. I picked Dune up later at a garagesale for 50 cents. Garage sales are great places for books. It seemed like everyone was trying to get rid of it as every other sale had a copy.

Sci-Fi channel does stay with Herbert's writing much more than Lynch's version, but it has a tendency to drag it out (it was a miniseries afterall which covers 3 DVDs). I also like how they bring out more of the culture of these people, particularly the Fremin as this desert culture. Real life news events of the Middle East readily come to mind as Other Worlders battle and struggle over the Spice, a commodity essential for space travel. The acting though feels more like a soap opera than epic cinema. I also like how they interpret the story along the lines of how the women behind the great men have played their role in this history, specifically the concubine loves, Lady Jessica and Chani. Even the Emperor's daughter, who is merely a narrator in the Lynch version, takes on a greater role in diagramming the true Harkonen plot.

Though the Lynch version is like a cliff notes version of Dune (how else can you get it in one movie), and it ends on a strange beat that only makes sense if you've read the book, the characters are more engaging and the overall production quality is better even though it's 16 years older than the Sci-Fi version. After watching full length of the mini-series, you start to think that excessive mental thought voice-overs are not a bad thing. Besides it illicits 80s nostalgia with Toto doing the musical score and a very fine, fit young Sting as the Harkonen nephew, Feyd. Patrick Stewart, who finds his way into all sorts of sci-fi cult roles, is in it too as loyal Guerney. Besides nothing is creepier than Paul's little sister with Bene Gesserit mother knowledge doing that special voice that invades people's minds. It's better than a Jedi mind trick.

Monday, January 05, 2004

Life gets better or worse after 30?

Post your comments. Within many of the birthday greetings I received, people also commented on whether life "goes downhill from there" or "only gets better."

I tend to be middle of the road and say that I'm sure there will be ups and downs, but stay positive that life evens itself out.

So, what do you think?