parallelogram

do you ever wonder what the more confident or more timid version of you is doing in a parallel universe? am i rock star or floetic poet? fledgling in middle management? mopping floors at mcdonald's? lying motionless in a dimly lit alley with a needle in my arm? initiating multi-million dollar business deals from a penthouse suite? pushing cocaine? i suppose it's not worth my full consideration, but the question popped in my head while on a bus from Cordoba to Madrid. i can't put my finger on what caused the thought to sprout. all i remember is staring out the window as the sun dropped behind some rolling hills set behind open fields and olive tree plantations. bright yellows and oranges being cast directly behind the hill where the sun was dropping, slowly fanning out into ever darkening blue skies. i kept staring, waiting for the colours to change from yellow and orange to purple and pink, wondering what the scientific explanation is for such phenomenon, then deciding that it's better to not understand why something beautiful occurs, but just to appreciate it as is. and then this thought. perhaps it's just a normal part of life. questioning where you are with where you could/should/want to be, spurred on by the fact that you've finally found a peaceful moment in which to reflect. i wonder if we all should seek out more of these moments.

book review

since June 2010, i've apparently read 23 books. i know this because i've been keeping a running record of completed reads since that date. i can think of no reason as to why i decided to keep this running record. probably just to prove to myself that i've accomplished something in the last year+.

to me, this seems like a lot of reading over a 15 month period, especially since i consider myself a slow reader. i considered giving a review of each book, but i think too much time has passed to properly do that. perhaps just a comment or two on each. so enough with the chit chat. here's the list:

1. The Shock Doctrine, Naomi Klein - i now know how to take advantage of shock, awe and disaster and turn it into power.

2. The Little Prince, Antoine de Saint-Exupery - it's short, which at the time was good enough reason for me.

3. Life of Pi, Yann Martel - can you believe this book was rejected by five publishing houses before being accepted? probably because he plagiarised it.

4. The Undercover Economist, Tim Harford - no doubt that Mr. Harford was trying to piggyback off the success of Freakonomics when he wrote this one. i never read Freakonomics, so i guess his plan worked.

5. Wish You Were Here, Mike Gayle - chick lit for dudes. dude lit, if you will. every man needs it. i'm not ashamed to say that i've read several of Mike Gayle's books, and they always entertain.

6. Angels and Demons, Dan Brown - i avoided Dan Brown for as long as i could, but after going a solid week without reading material while trekking through Mozambique, i decided i could go no longer. as fate would have it, i came across this one for 50 cents in the bargain bin of a small bookshop on the Isle of Mozambique.

7. Juliet Naked, Nick Hornby - contrary to its title, there is no nudity in this book. found the ending a bit weak as well.

8. SuperFreakonomics, Steven Levitt and Stephen Dubner - again finding myself with nothing to read in Africa, a fellow mate on the safari in Tanzania loaned me this one. i found the bit about child safety seats to be quite interesting. use of the shock doctrine in everyday marketing.

9. The Valkyries, Paulo Coelho - even great authors have the occasional let down.

10. The Book of Laughter and Forgetting, Milan Kundera - pretty much zero laughter, total forgetting on this one. i only finished it because i had nothing else to do while holed up in a small village, Uganda. and to think the reviews on the back cover made it sound so promising.

11. The Braindead Megaphone, George Saunders - proof that anyone can write a book.

12. Between the Assassinations, Aravind Adiga - author of The White Tiger, which i really enjoyed. not quite as good, but good enough for me to have left it half finished on a train, then willingly repurchase it days later so i could finish.

13. Sarah's Key, Tatiana de Rosnay - they're making a film out of this one, so it must be good. (yeah, i liked it)

14. How To Be Good, Nick Hornby - better than the aforementioned book by Hornby on this list. ah, the pain of marriage.

15. The Lovely Bones, Alice Sebold - more books should be narrated by dead people.

16. In This Way I Was Saved, Brian Deleeuw - oh my god! another book narrated by a dead person! my friend in China went to university with the author of this one, so she loaned it to me while i was crashing/cat-sitting at her crib for a few days. surprisingly fantastic and recommended.

17. The Mysteries of Pittsburgh, Michael Chabon - the joys of youthful experimentation.

18. The Di Vinci Code, Dan Brown - i can see why so many people read his books. they're equally exciting and easy on the brain.

19. Iran Awakening, Shirin Ebadi - a brief look inside Iran, written by an Iranian. amazing. fascinating. brilliant. read it and find your own positive adjective.

20. Fahrenheit 451, Ray Bradbury - a look into the future??

21. Eating Animals, Jonathan Safran Foer - i still eat meat, but i think a lot more about it and where it comes from. how did it get to my plate? what are the potential consequences? this book (and the film Food, Inc.) changes you.

22. Hey Nostradamus!, Douglas Coupland - a friend recommended this author, and i would do the same. hoping to read more by him in the future.

23. Lullaby, Chuck Palahniuk - the first book i've read by Palahniuk. not much to say other than i enjoyed it.

current book: Cloud Atlas by David Mitchell

books on the shelf:

No Logo, Naomi Klein

Liberal Fascism, Jonah Goldberg (a one-two punch of liberal and conservative reading with the first two)

The Yiddish Policeman's Union, Michael Chabon (i think it's this one. definitely a Chabon book on the shelf, though)

The Winner Stands Alone, Paulo Coelho

How to be Idle, Tom Hodgkinson

Shaggy dogs and Black Sheep, Albert Jack (for the English teacher in me)

your further suggestions are always welcomed.

pilgrims

grapes with seeds may be the most annoying fruit i've ever eaten. cherries i like because you know exactly what you're up against. one stone in the middle. you know where it is every time, so your mind knows exactly how to eat around it. but grapes throw sometimes one, maybe two, usually three and every so often four small seeds at you at once, forcing you to suck, lick and chew around them. and that bitter taste if you accidentally bite into one...ugh!

saw an asian dude wearing a shirt that read 'Shakespeare hates your emo poetry' while walking home from a jog in Retiro Park. outstanding.

the post from earlier today was pretty much off the top of my head. i got a sudden urge to post something on the ol' blog and went with it, then decided while typing to scrape my old 'koreanmonologs' blog and start anew. it makes sense, i suppose, since i no longer live in Korea. i blame girlfriend, as she's started up her own blog with a Polish friend she met in China. anyway, i always feel a bit strange after posting each blog entry. it's that feeling where you wonder if what you wrote comes off as weird, or if people think you're just trying to be interesting or profound or funny. i hate that feeling because usually it's just me trying to get some thoughts out of my head and into print. i think most people use a notebook and a pencil for such things. a moleskin notebook, of course. it's one of those things that white people like according to some other dude's blog.

so here's what's going on in Madrid at the moment: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-14601434

the Pope made a visit and thousands upon thousands of catholic pilgrims have descended upon the city. it was madness for a few days, but today seems to be a bit more quiet. girlfriend and i tried to walk down to the park for a jog a few days ago and couldn't even push through the crowd before it started to get dark and we had to turn around and head home. granted, it was pretty late when we left the flat, so partly our fault. still, i blame the pilgrims and their uncanny desire to congregate and block major traffic arteries.

with all the pilgrims, we naturally started discussing god related things at the dinner table last night, and i got to wondering out loud about whether Mary was upset when Gabrielle came down and told her she was with child (it was Gabrielle, right?). sounds ridiculous, i know? i mean, she was told (allegedly) that she was carrying the son of god. who wouldn't be thrilled? but what about child support? did god offer to pay? because if he just knocked her up and didn't offer to pay child support, wouldn't that kind of make him a deadbeat dad? okay, perhaps a bit of a twisted take on the whole subject, but i think these questions deserve answers.

lesson learnt

the original blog started off well enough. I was posting on a semi-regular basis, maintaining touch with those back home stateside. but as with most things that we love, the blog became neglected. sort of like that old girlfriend who would later become the love of your life shortly after she broke up with you, citing your neglect and overall lack of concern in the relationship. all take and no give, she says. days later, in the midst of another sleepless night spent staring at the ceiling as a cool breeze ruffles the Indian tapestry on your wall, you decide to turn over a new leaf. love is the answer. then, weeks, months or years later, when you’ve met that next special someone, you wake up to a half empty bed in a cold sweat to the stunning realisation that nothing has changed, and your blog has again not been updated in 17 months. time to start over again. and again. and again…

almost three months in Spain (and just days from becoming an illegal) and I find myself thinking back to my days as a young stud in Mrs. Love’s kindergarten class. Mrs. Love. what a great name for a kindergarten teacher. she stood about 5’5” I’m guessing, but to be fair, I was 6 years old, so what did I know about height. and she was big. I don’t know if I’d go as far as to say she was overweight, but definitely big boned. thick, if you will. and black. I have nothing but fond memories of her. no, that’s a lie. I don’t remember anything else about her. my memories of kindergarten are winning a badge for having good handwriting (‘#1 Writer’ written on a paper white bow that the kids in 2^nd grade made fun of me for wearing while waiting on the bus after school) and feeling a bit self-conscious that day I appeared on the morning announcement show to reveal the day’s weather. I think I was wearing a pink shirt. thanks mom.

I also remember learning the days of the week. we would gather around Mrs. Love and her record player at the front of the room, facing the big blackboard. on side A of the record, the days of the week in English song. side B, the same song, but in Spanish. all of us were happy enough to sing the song in English, but this kid Angela, she had to be special. she begged constantly to listen to and sing the song in Spanish, no doubt to show the rest of us how smart she was. normally, Mrs. Love wouldn’t give in to her request, but occasionally she showed weakness, and because no one else knew the words, Angela would laugh and sing and dance alone, mocking our stupidity. what a little bitch.

back in the ROK. it's strange coming back. i assumed it would be. nothing is ever the same thing twice. the town is the same. same bars. same subway. same storefronts. but the faces have changed. and i suppose that's half of the experience. it's only been 6 weeks, so still plenty of time to get out there. i've caught up with a few friends from the past, and made a few new ones. not to worry. i'm sure it will be fine.

so i'm at this bar last night called Naked. i'm sitting there, minding my own, chatting up a few friends, when suddenly this girl at the table next to us just up and decides to take off her shirt. no bra. full frontal. in certain pubs in certain areas just down the street from where we were, this would be expected. the norm. but not this establishment, despite its name. unfortunately, she was not the proper body type you'd hope for in this situation. granted, she did have perkiness on her side, but otherwise it was a bit of a disappointment. not that that kept me from staring. i'm a man, after all.

casual observations

there are no stop signs in china. merely suggestive intersections.

words such as 'savage' and 'modesty' are common first names.

babies poop anywhere, including entryways to supermarkets. i have a story with this one, but not on this post.

you haven't experienced real street food unless you're puking withing twenty minutes on the nearest clear spot (optional) of pavement you can find.

queuing is not always mandatory. adapt or prepare for an eternal wait.

scorpion, starfish and snake taste better than you'd expect.

vehicle inspections either aren't required or don't cover windshield wipers. only got one that's operational? no worries, even if it's on the passenger side. it's not as if it rains that often in beijing. another story for this one, but again, you'll have to wait.

'no smoking' is an ambiguous phrase.

quotation of the day: '...a tie is noose, and inverted though it is, it will hang a man nonetheless if he's not careful.'

2 months ago

it's been a long time and i have quite a bit to talk about. unfortunately, you'll have to wait until this weekend to get the 4-1-1. i'm tired and need sleep. be back soon.