Monthly Archives: April 2010

don’t breed–blog

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so today while i was busy at work…researching important medical research, writing important medical writings and medicalling important medicals, our department’s lab tech asked me about an experiment we had worked on back in 2005.

“you mean the 2005 that happened 5 years ago?” I asked.

it turns out that the records of this particular experiment were lost in a freak windows-pc-computer-meltdown-blue-screen-of-hell-fuckup.

after a few minutes of trying to resolve the missing dates in my head, i fired up the blog. a few minutes later, i was able to fill her in on the details of the missing timeline thanks to the archives and flickr’s photostream. had i blogged about the experiment? no. but i had posted about events orbiting the periphery of my “real” life and that was enough to put two and two together.

this is the closest my blog/flickrstream has come to serving a real-life-purpose.

so all day i’ve been thinking that the highlights of my life for the past SIX years are chronicled online and reside peacefully in the digital-ether.

that’s why we’re all doing this digital-presence-stuff, right?

the more i share the closer i get to living forever. in a sense, i’m passing on my experiences to the world with each seemingly-irrelevant twitter update, each mal-focused flickr post and even this very blog entry.

indeed, i’m satisfying my evolutionarily-programmed-need to reproduce each time i click “post“.

who needs offspring when you’ve got the internet? i’m officially calling for a new campaign to end overpopulation and unnecessary pregnancies:

“don’t breed—blog”

so why do you do all of this?

blessed to be a witness (she woke up first)

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so this weekend the pretty girl and i woke up bright and early b/c the gym gets crowded if you’re not there before 9am.

she woke up first. before i knew it she was dressed and ready to kill that damn elliptical machine—and she did.

i staggered behind with grumbling-contempt; anything less would have been out of character.

walking out of the bathroom—toothbrush in mouth—i saw buster peaking out from under the covers.

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content to only catch a peek of the nonsense going on so early on a saturday morning, he would wait for the clang of his food bowl and rattle of the can opener to commit to an early morning wake-up call.

these two are what make my life such an amazing place and when they do the things that are simply “them” i feel the most at home.

there were so many times this weekend that i would look over at her and find myself needing to catch my breath; sitting on the couch, hair twirling around her finger, buster safe-and-warm in her lap.

this is my waking life and i have no idea what i’ve done to be so damn lucky.

dust in the wind (keep on truckin’)

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so on saturday night, i met up with my buddy nick b/c he’s decided that life in socal has gotten boring and so he’s headed to the mid-west where he will—undoubtedly—become wildly successful and that’s good because if there’s one thing i’m good at it’s having friends who do an amazing job at life.

so we met up on saturday evening and hung out until we were good-and-ready to go home and roamed from joint-to-joint, remembering good times along the way.

apparently, word had gotten out that it was nick’s last night in socal, b/c downtown redlands was in the celebratory mood and they did not disappoint.

to make the night extra-special-awesome, i brought along the iPad and whenever anyone would come up to take a look at it, nick would say, “yeah and it’s a phone too!”  i would then proceed to hold the giant iPod Touch to my giant iJeff Head and hilarity ensued. i’m sure more than a few of the people who saw me holding that giant thing up against my face were convinced that it was indeed the biggest-fuck-phone they’d ever seen…and they loved it.
they LOVED it.

socal will miss you, nick, and so, i want to tell you…just…just…keep on truckin’

33 or bust!

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so today is brandon’s birthday and best efforts were made to celebrate even though he’s not the most eager of subjects.

this is concerning.

most of my life is spent working towards some sort of celebration. brandon on the other hand avoids even the most obvious of excuses to celebrate his face.

ok.

nonetheless, we made best efforts and imbibed on drinks on his behalf.

happy birthday, brandon, we’re brothers and i love ya.

2011 or bust!

viva la revolution

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for the most part, my life is reasonably predictable.

sure, work brings new cases and the well-timed surprise, but for the most part work—and those i work with—are a given.

one of the coolest docs on my floor is a late-60s-italian-immigrant who’s accent is complimented nicely by his diminutive stature and tone.

when i showed up this week with an iPad he was all ears. as i tapped around on a glass screen, his questions fired rapidly and with escalating enthusiasm.

i love this guy and often wish that we had known each other in 1960s Focaccia, Italy.

when he asked me to show him my e-books, i eagerly complied. littered among new york times’ bestsellers were “the motorcycle diaries” and “the communist manifesto“.

i saw his eyes scan the titles. before i could react, his small-european-frame looked up at me and asked:

“oh! were you a part of the revolution, too!?”

“um…no, no, i mean maybe i would have been, but no, i’m just a student of it.”, i stuttered.

“oh! of course, you’re much too young to have taken part. i forget how young you are…you’re such an old soul and i forget. let me tell you though, it was a beautiful time and we were sure we could change the world. we were the revolutionaries.”

“Dr. [name-withheld], were you a part of the socialist movement?“, i asked.

“it’s more complicated than that…too often your generation thinks che guevara is a figure on a tshirt, but i can tell you, he was much more.”

for the next hour-and-a-half i listened to his stories of revolution and sat in awe of the diminutive-italian-doctor who’s been working at the end of the hall, 20 meters from me for the past 3 years.

viva la revolution.

my wish for us on easter sunday

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you’ve seen this before, but easter sunday is the perfect excuse to put today’s nonsense into perspective:

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my easter wish is that mine is the final generation that makes an easter wish.

UPDATE: the text reads: “christianity: the belief that a cosmic Jewish zombie who was his own father can make you live forever if you smybolically eat his flesh and telepathically tell him you accept him as your master, so he can remove an evil force from your soul that is present in humanity because a rib-woman was convinced by a talking snake to eat from a magical tree….Yeah…Makes perfect sense.”