Well, that and pumpkin pie.

Thanksgiving Day.  What a fucking joke. Although I’m coming to a belated yet truly heartfelt realization of how awesome my liberal, guilt-ridden, Native-Americans-Were-Screwed-Over-By-White-Folks-And-Continue-To-Get-Screwed-Over-By-The-Rest-Of-America-For-All-Of-Time-aware education was. It’s the little things in life like slapping the native population in the face, then celebrating the one time you “condescended” to eat with the natives cuz let’s face it, they had all the food anyways, that makes you sit up and realize what a great nation America is.

Anyways, it’s always interesting celebrating this holiday from an Asian-American point of view, emphasis on the American part. We’ve got the kimchi next to the turkey and the shrimp tempura next to the greenbean casserole.

But it’s not just the food. It’s the sharp divide between our parents’ generation and us kids. We’ve had two Caucasian significant others at our Asian bonanza within the last several years, and chances are it’ll only get “worse”. If I ever leave my shell and actually start dating some of these nice geeks I meet all over the place. And if my brother ever gets serious about his long-term, on and off gal pal.

My wishlist for Friday will probably include a laptop, Seasons 1 & 2 of Terminator: SCC, Pushing Daisies, and Star Trek Reboot.  Also, it looks as though the best way to celebrate my birthday might be with a Disney movie.

No more excuses. From now on, it’s post at least once a day, preferrably twice with my morning thoughts and evening thoughts. In my rare moments of thinking further than two weeks into the future, I envision a life where I’m stable, able to pay back my family, and doing something I love.

Unfortunately, I have a twangy feeling in my heart that tells me I’m only going to get two of those, because that’s how Life makes sure I’m not getting too cocky. As if it’s ever given me the chance to get cocky. For once, I really would like to rock out with my cock out. Not just get by  . . . with my cock shy?

For my own future reference (and future memoir), I’m currently in a transitional phase where I’m debating applying to the Americorps or an unpaid internship at a banging art gallery. Not that the service army will pay me much more than minimum but it’s something. And really, considering the fact that I’ve already squandered, like, tens of thousands of dollars on an education I’ll never finish, something is better than nothing.

Right-o. Momentary bitterness is momentary.

Moving right along, is it sad that I’m actually getting life advice from watching House’s struggles with therapy? This should definitely be a fandom secret.

Exciting weekend ahead. I’ll just have to remember to post about it. Maybe string up some pictures. Make this place look livable. Put an Ikea futon in the corner and all the fly guys will be flocking at my metaphorical doorstep.

Y’know, if they haven’t been confused by my cock jokes.

Phil gave me a ride to the metro on his way to Dave & Busters to root for the Redskins. As though they might win against the Ravens. I’m really not a sports fan but, god, I remember the days when Washington sports were something to be proud of. And it’d be nice to have a team name that isn’t so fucking racist.  I think I’d have some objections if the local team ( no matter how good or steeped in local history) were called Slantyeyes or Yellowskins or Chinks.

Made my way to Silver Spring and helped Nazia pack up bits of her apartment while hanging out with the Chipmunk. Eventually we ventured out for some krazy glue and eats. Ended up in Dama Cafe, that new Ethiopian place right across from Zia’s (soon to be old) apartment. Chris had some beef tips while Zia and I shared some spicy tib wat w/ a whole bunch of injera. Our waitress was adorably attentive and giggly. She laughed a bit at our pronunciation and the fact that we were ordering something potentially mouth-burning but of all people, I think Zia and I could handle our spice.

Both the beef tips and the beef stew went swimmingly with the injera bread, and the cottage cheese and side salad didn’t hurt. The food wasn’t spectacular by any means but it was good and filling and I wouldn’t mind going back there to check out the rest of the menu.

Future Plans: Chris’ birthday, Restaurant Week Dinner with Emily, Baltimore bonanaza with Anica, Iris, and Jane

To Do: Fill out application for non-profit (craigslist), send resignation to L, respond to EJ, email FinAid and AcAd.

Song of the day: Kevin Rudolf – Let it Rock

Show of the day: Being Human, Warehouse 12 (Claudia and sexy Joe Flanigan, yesssss)

In this room, this small space I was born into, I dream of infinity and beyond.

I cast my mind out into the incomprehensible measures of outer space

Zooming among planets and asteroids and planetoids

Like a camera lens,

Moving back and back and back until -

I find that space doesn’t bear down upon me like a weight

But, regardless of the lack of gravity, bears down upon me

More like mass.

The boundless emptiness presses against the back of my head

As I crouch like Atlas or Geb times an infinite number of powers of ten.

———–)>o<( ————

I do not fear eternity without limits, without boundaries.

The vastiness of space enevelops me

But the crowded depths of my inner space

Keep their form.

What is the final frontier for

If not to fill with our nano-voices and mega-thoughts?

http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=5507378

Cobalt Soup : MICA’s Student Activities/Events website

Last time I had my thinky cap on, so I was attempting to (poorly) place some thoughts and corollaries into words but I’ve had time to re-read and re-think, so here’s part 2.

Homosexual romances are, of course, not the same type of relationship as  incestuous romances. Actually, other than the fact that each consists of (generally) two people engaged in a romantic/sexual relationship, the two have nothing in common. The common thread I was attempting to draw between the two types of relationships was not one that equated homosexuality and incest.

Instead, I was drawing a parallel between my father’s inexplicable reactions to certain things and my own inexplicable reactions to other things, and trying to imagine my father’s reasons based on my own.  Any judgement or opinionating that occurred was directed towards our reactions to the relationships as opposed to being a judgement of the relationships themselves.

I meant to point out that both of our reactions aren’t logic-based or well thought out at all, but very prejudiced and instinctive. These are feelings that need to be brought out of whatever insidious hiding place they have within the psyche, examined, questioned over and over again, then modified(or not) as life throws new experiences at us.

Thinky cap on.

So I’ve got a philosophy of religion exam tomorrow, and in preparation, instead of actually preparing the actual essay questions that will be on the exam, I’ve got Don Cupitt and Stephen Law in my head, telling me what they think about God. Which mostly consists of Non-Realism, which states that God doesn’t exist outside of our human faith and understanding of him. So humans pre-date God.

Religious realism, where God is literally sitting on a throne in the sky with Jesus on his physical right hand, is an outdated notion according to Cupitt.

Good stuff for thinking.

But what really got this post started was an excerpt from Stephen Law’s The Philosophy Gym, the chapter titled “What’s wrong with gay sex?” in which Stephen Law takes Plato’s device of using mock discussions between various characters to illuminate certain aspects to a stance against homosexuality. In the course of arguing against an overly simplistic defense of “homosexuality is just wrong” , Law covers the appeal to the Bible; its unnatural, dirty, and unhealthy nature; corruption of young; promiscuity; and family values. And in its own simplistic way, the chapter manages to put up some defenses. But that got me started on a train of thought I’ve had before, namely, the instinctive feeling of wrongness that people associate with certain kinds of sexuality and sexual relationships.

I’m an avid proponent of gay rights and equality of rights for all LGBT citizens of America. Until recently, though, I’ve attempted to keep my support on the down low when I’m at home because my parents were freaked out enough that I had gay friends. If I “came out” to them as a supporter of the LGBT movement, they’d both have cows and then attempt to use those cows to sell me off to the most hetero-aggressive Korean traditionalist male  Roman Catholic groom as soon as possible.

Well, chalk it up to a late phase of teenage rebellion or just immature perversity but lately I have been attempting to engage my parents, especially my father in dialogues involving a comparison of their feelings and mine on homosexuality. We never really got anywhere in terms of convincing either my father or myself that we were wrong but it certainly got me thinking about how my father could feel so strongly that homosexuality was unnatural without any logical support to back him up. He didn’t even have the defenses that Law enumerated in his book. He simply and consistently insisted that homosexuality felt completely wrong and unnatural, and that it always would. Which got me thinking about what I would consider unequivocally wrong in respect to a relationship or sexual orientation.

I then thought of the nature of incest. When I think of an incestuous relationship between a parent and child, my immediate reaction is disgust and horror. I tried to think of a situation where I would be comfortable with a mother and child or father and child engaging in a sexual or romantic realtionship, and I really couldn’t.  I can’t help but think that this instinctive and immediate reaction is similar to my father’s reaction to homosexuality.

So, unfortunately, this is the point at which my logic fails me because to be truthful, I have no logical defense for why I feel this way. I could tell you it’s because I subconsciously understand that any reproduction from a relationship of that sort is fraught with genetic peril or that it can be seen as an abuse of authority or some other reason but even if none of those reasons applied, I would still feel somewhere in my illogical and inexplicable little soul that incestuous relationships are wrong.

I’m not sure which side I would come down on if incestuous couples were to look for legitimization and civil equality in the eyes of civilization and the law. I like to think I’d be logical about it, or at least open to discussion but as I just laid out, this isn’t a topic that I’m logical about.

To be fair, I don’t seem to be quite as squicked about relationships between first cousins. I’ve done my fair share of hillbilly jokes and West VA ridicule but I’ve never had the instinctively horrified reaction to cousin relationships that I’ve had towards parent child relationships. I don’t know if that’s because I live in a world where that particular relationship is still prevalent in various societies or if it’s tied to my personal view of various family members. But it bears reflecting upon.

I apparently FAIL at life. Still got three papers due Monday, and now am behind on a story. And my sleep schedule is insanely not right.

I’m pretty sure my professors are all either hating me or disappointed in me at this point.

Things are falling apart. I’m watching it all fall apart, and all I have to do is hold it together with my hands, and I’m not moving.

This is not pain. This is motherfucking stupidity in the most motherfucking insane way.

Went to Kooza, it was awesome. Just got asked about bussing by Elaine. That was awesome, too.

Actually got some reading done, and heading back home at a reasonable time. AWESOME!

More on all, later.