Monday, January 21, 2008


It must be nice to be a house cat.

Here's a typical day. You wake up. At 1:30 pm. You yawn, stretch and walk over to the bowl of food your servant has already prepared for you. Then you drink from the bowl of water that has also been prepared for you. Then you go back to sleep.

If you need to pee or take a dump, you do it in a sandbox, and your servant cleans it all up for you.

When you want attention, you walk up to your servant, and she will pet you, cuddle you, lift you and utter nonsensical words to you, usually in a falsetto voice. All you need to do is purr.

If you poop on the rug or vomit on the sofa, it's okay. After all, you're just a cat. No worries, your servant will clean up your mess for you.

Like I said, it's a nice life.

The only trade off is, you're probably neutered or spayed. And that means you're pretty much guaranteed to die a virgin. And for this reason, I'm not too bummed over my station in life as a human.

At least that's what I try to tell myself.

Wednesday, January 16, 2008


There is something to be said about the feeling you get when you're crossing a busy street downtown, surrounded by bundled-up strangers and looming skyscrapers, and hearing through your iPod the voice of Frank Sinatra wax poetic about the very city you're meandering through. The song is the perfect backdrop, the ultimate soundtrack, to the city. Your naturally quick pace slackens as your eyes drift upwards towards the glass and stone buildings that stretch and arch towards the sky, a sky that looks like it could be scraped, a sky that signifies endless possibilities; and you almost begin to believe that the city, This City, really does have all the hope and promise the song foretells.

Friday, January 11, 2008


Once, a girl, Y, was having dinner three individuals. The three were quantum physicists, while Y was the sole lawyer.

The three quantum physicists went on and on about subatomic particles and vectors. During the two-hour long discussion, Y had perfected the art of the Closed-Mouth Yawn. After years of enduring boring lectures in college and law school, listening to her bosses wax eloquent on why her brief sucked and staying conscious during very bad dates, Y was an expert Closed-Mouth Yawner. Little did she know that all those years of practice were preparation for this exact type of situation.

Y couldn't escape. They were seated at a table with unfinished meals before them. Still though, halfway through the meal, Y was half-tempted to excuse her self and grab a cab outside the restaurant. But she didn't. Instead, she remained silent, took sips of her lemon water, and close-mouthed-yawned. A lot.

Finally one of the quantum physicists turned to Y. "Does this stuff completely bore you? Do you have absolutely no interest in our topics at ALL?"

Y was stunned. Exposed. Were quantum physicists not only mind-bogglingly smart, but also psychic?! Instead of answering with a resounding and honest "YES," Y replied, "Oh, it's just that most of this is over my head, ha ha."

The other three awkwardly laughed, and then resumed their conversation on vectors.

Apparently, Y was also not only an expert in the art of the Closed-Mouth Yawn, but also the art of Evading Answers and Tactful yet Self-Deprecating Bull Shitting.

Conflict resolution 101

A and B are dating. A and B are usually chatty and chipper when together.

One day, A was silent and morose. B tried to be chatty and chipper. A was unresponsive and distant. Finally, B asked A, "Is something wrong?"

Silence. Finally, A responded, "Yes. Sort of."

B replied, "What is it?"

A said, "It kind of bothered me when you did X."

B said, "Oh, doh. I didn't realize that. Sorry, I won't do it again."

A replied, "It's okay. Thanks for listening."

A and B then resumed being chatty and chipper again. Then a couple weeks later, A again became silent and morose. B tried again to be chatty and chipper. A was again unresponsive and distant. Finally, B asked A, "Is something wrong?"

After pausing for a moment, A responded, "Well, yeah."

B waited. "And what's wrong?"

A replied, "Well, it bothered me when you did Y."

B replied, "Oh, I guess went too far when I made that joke. I apologize and I won't do it again."

A said, "It's okay."

A and B again resumed the chatty/chipper routine. Then one day, A was again being silent, morose, unresponsive and distant. B was now annoyed that every time A was silent, morose, unresponsive and distant, B had to be the one who asked the question, "Is something wrong?" and drag it out of B. Neither A nor B proclaim to be mind-readers. Therefore, in order for either person to know what is bothering the other person, the person has to say it, rather than convey it through silent, morose, unresponsive and distant conduct.

B was now confronted with a few choices:

1) Repeat the above-mentioned cycle.

2) Not do anything and let A's passive aggression play itself out until A has no choice but to, on A's own initiative, confront B and therefore break the cycle.

3) Repeat the cycle and then afterwards say, "I'd appreciate it if you were more upfront about things when you're upset with me. It's difficult for me to understand what's going unless you talk about it."

Both #s 1 and 3 are enabling/perpetuating the cycle. Yet #2 is slightly passive aggressive.

At any rate, A and B are having dinner tonight. The truth will hopefully reveal itself then.

Tuesday, January 08, 2008

Oh my

god. Today is January 8, 2008. I happened to walk into Walgreen's today to grab a soda when I saw an entire aisle -- an ENTIRE AISLE -- brimming with chocolates and candies and murals decorated in shades of hot pink, red, and white. Stores are already selling stuff for Valentine's Day! I still have candy canes from Christmas!

This is just as bad as seeing Christmas decorations as early as August. The holiday merchandise industry is crazy.

Monday, January 07, 2008

The binder clips

Once upon a time, there were three binder clips. By happenstance, they clipped three consecutive sets of documents in one case. And by happenstance, the sets of documents were unclipped at the same time, and the binder clips were placed facing each other. The binder clips were unsure who or what placed them there, only that a Great User dealt them their sets of documents. Yet for the first time, they were confronting each other face to face.

The first binder clip was small and silver. The second binder clip was medium and silver. And the third binder clip was medium and black.

Immediately, the black binder clip felt outnumbered by the silver clips. It envied the silvery finish of the other two clips yet took solace in knowing it bore the more traditional color of binder clips. The small binder clip also felt threatened as it was outnumbered by the two medium clips flanking it. They were much taller and wider than it was. Who knows what they could do to it?

Yet the medium silver binder clip felt at ease amongst its brethren. Could the medium silver binder clip bridge the gap between the black medium binder clip and the small silver binder clip? After all, it thought to itself, we are all Binder Clips.

They stared at each other in silence. "Gentlemen," the medium silver binder clip said. "I sense an unease."

The other two remained silent.

"Let me remind you that we are all one and the same," the medium silver binder clip continued. "Do we not have bodies of plastic and tongs of steel?"

The other two nodded grudgingly.

"Yes, the color of plastic may be different--" The medium black binder clip nodded.

"--And our sizes may vary--" The small silver binder clip nodded.

"--But we are the same." The medium black binder clip and small silver binder clip looked up at the medium silver binder clip.

"But we're not, really," the small silver binder clip said tentatively. "I am small, you both are medium."

"You both are silver, and I am black!" the medium black binder clip exclaimed.

"We are fundamentally different!" they both said.

"We are the same," the medium silver binder clip insisted. "We serve the same purpose. We have the same goal," its voice quivered with a metallic vibrato. "We clip documents!"

The other two binder clips looked at each other as the singularity of their purpose dawned on them.

"Yes," the small silver binder clip piped, "we do clip documents."

"I suppose so," the medium black one stated.

"Small binder clips are for small sets of documents. Medium binder clips are for medium sets of documents. And there are even large ones that clip large sets of documents," the medium silver binder clip continued. "You see? We all have our purpose. And the color of the binder clip has no bearing on the binder clip's ability. Some people like a little variety. Just look at us. Our Great User has used us both, not just silver, not just black, not just small, not just medium, but all colors and sizes."

The other two nodded with slow realization.

"We are the one and the same! We are . . . Binder Clips!" the medium silver binder clip snapped with a resounding finality.

As they all nodded in unison and reaffirmed their bond, they heard a noise. A door opened, all of a sudden the Great User entered the Realm. They became immediately silent, each hoping She hadn't heard their rumblings.

It was decided then. Theirs would be an unspoken pact among all binder clips, a realized purpose for all Binder Clip-kind. A secret from all Great Users.

Except this one.
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