Tuesday, September 30, 2003

I'm starting to hate my own words. That and I have a very bad headache right now.

Yesterday I was wearing this hat that said "Home Depot Racing" on it, which I thought was very clever. In history we had to do this group essay about the Civil War, and I got grouped up with a few cool kids. I honestly don't remember two of the girls' names, but I do remember that one girl's nickname was Tredg, and the other was kind of skinny and plain looking, but she was alright anyway. This Sarah plain and tall character was telling me about how there was a hot dog stand outside of Home Depot that was really good. And I said I would go pick one up after school. Maybe I will. I was just trying to be charming.

Today I was wearing my Smiths shirt which I love very much. It has a picture of an infantry soldier on it with "meat is murder" on his helmet. I'm sure Teresa would love that part the most. Anyway, Kate in my drama class was telling me how whenever I wear that shirt, she always imagines me as a very charming man inside of her head. And I was kind of spacing out because I was listening to my CD player (Dredg was in it, if you wanted to know), but I said, "That's what I'm trying to do". And she replied, "What, get me to think of you as a charming man inside my head?". And I said yeah. And we laughed, and that was that. The reason I brought this up is because I hope I haven't lost my charm.

I need to stop smoking, because it's getting me very light headed and unhappy. I suppose it's still a good stress reliever, and masturbation never really did the trick, but I don't like having to NEED a cigarette. I don't know. No one ever complained about NEEDING a masturbation session. I'm not being serious.

cya.

-george

Friday, September 26, 2003

The silly thing about being sixteen is that you feel old, but sixteen just feels so young.

This morning I went to court for two speeding tickets I had gotten over the course of one day. Yeah, I have no idea how I pulled that off. Anyway, my dad was telling me how he knew the judge, so I would get the tickets dismissed, and have no points on my record. So the judge called me up and I was really nervous and kept looking at my dad, and the judge kept making jokes about how it was between me and him and not between me and my dad. And eventually I got my license suspended for 15 days and I have to do 36 hours of community service. What a deal.

Anyway, this will prohibit me from going to see Tsunami Bomb and Shonen Knife with Grace, which really irritates me because I was very much looking forward to these events. How tragic. I love going to concerts with Grace, and I know she'll be disappointed.

On a side note, I made improvisation team at school which makes me very happy. Also, my dad says I can drive before nine, but I have to be extremely careful or else I'm screwed.

I'm in a lively mood. I wish I could go somewhere. Rather, I wish I had somewhere to be.

cya.

-george

Monday, September 22, 2003

My writing's getting a little better.

George Ha
Per 4 English
9-22-03
Saying Grace

As Americans, we are entitled to this sense of freedom, this universal knowledge that we are inclined to some sort of liberty, but most of us never really understand. However as a country, our minds have been polluted with commercialism, and our true sense of freedom has been stripped from us. If our materialistic-oriented society is what constitutes as freedom, then shoot my family, and the families of everyone in my city, and keep shooting until our nation realizes that we’re not as safe as we think we are. Liberty seems to have transformed into power somewhere down the line.
Kingsolver makes several references to pride and selfishness, and links it to our nation as a whole. We, in essence, are the “Fat Brother” she speaks of, who discards leftover food and throws meager scraps that don’t matter to anyone at those who are not as privileged as he. He is selfish, and takes everything he can get because “God blessed him and told him he could be selfish”. Giving is generous because many people do not give, and since it’s no skin off our back, we can give all the meager bare-bone portions we can afford (which is a lot, mind you).
Kingsolver refers to other countries seeing us as the “rich, piggish brother” compared to the “rich, beloved” one. However, when shown as individuals, we are kind, generous, and loving. Our country seems to be the collective selfish efforts of everyone who resides here, and the most unkind ungenerous part of us seems to be reflected on a gargantuan projection which all the world can see. Although, no one can claim that we are never selfish as individuals, as our country is proof that as a nation, we are cruel. Maybe this is why Kingsolver refers to herself as “I” more than “we”. “We” are horrible, but “I” am trying to understand why. There is no “we” without one more or “I’s” in there.
Power. Kingsolver refers to us as a powerful nation with some sort of awful moral high ground. We invade other countries, not because life was lost (although political leaders tell us such), but because we need some sort of resource; a form of money. We have come to use the loss of life as a REASON to gain something which doesn’t matter?
The way Kingsolver writes is nice and subtle. She talks to the reader, as if we are all in this together, and that none of us are excused from being selfish pigs. However, she offers some sort of “way out” of this predicament, but never really says what. She alludes to everything we are supposed to be doing through word, but never says “go plant a tree” or “give money to poor people”, but rather “Our nation is stingy with foreign aid” and “I wish our national anthem were not the one about the bombs bursting in air, but the one about purple mountain majesties and amber waves of grain.”. She tells us freedom and love needs to become a reason for our existence again.
Kingsolver asks several questions in her writing, all of them rhetorical and meaningful. They make us question our country and our lives as individuals living in a materialistic world. She presents them to us in an artistic autumn sort of tone, with the questions being very tranquil, but the meanings being higher than our tiny minds can handle. “How greedy can one person be, to want more than the Grand Canyon?”. Who knows?

Sunday, September 21, 2003

A second attempt at being an intellectual.

We all share this common thing as humans, as people. We all look forward to a nice death. We are all living, and because of this, we are linked. This is what we can talk about, this is what we all know of. And because of this, we can tolerate one another. We are all seeking something before death, and those of us who believe that we cannot obtain this "hope" commit suicide. It's as simple as that.

Some wonderful things have happened the past day or so. I went and visited Grace because she seemed very excited to see me, and was looking forward to it. I thought it was cute that she refers to me as her "eternal soulmate" as if we're lovers or something, when in reality we maintain a relationship much like that of "Will and Grace". Except the fact that we're not on TV, that we don't live together, and that I'm not gay. Well maybe I am. No, that would be too depressing. I was thinking that we were more like Bonnie and Clyde, although I don't know if they were both girls or both men. It's that type of thing. That we are best friends and that we are a pair. I can see me and Grace robbing a bank one day, and just smiling while driving across the open country, without a care in our heads, and just being in a state of peaceful happiness.

Another thing Grace mentioned was that she was happy, and that she didn't really know it. I think we are all happy inside, for one reason or another, but we don't show it at times. It's such a cliche word isn't it? Happy. Several people are searching for it, but no one really obtains it. But what's the point of searching for it when it's already in our hearts? It's just a matter of coming to the conclusion of what it is.

Grace wanted to take me to this place called "Good Vibrations" which is basically a women's sex shop. I thought it was hilarious, but the street it was on ended up being closed for a Fair or something. She was also going to take me to a Sushi place because she promised we would go eat Japanese food one of these days. I thought it was a sweet thought, and whether or not we went didn't really matter.

After a few hours of things I don't remember, we went to Haight and Ashbury and I went to this record store called "Amoeba" and bought the Dredg CD's I've been desperately looking for. Grace tells me that I look like such a happy little kid whenever something really nice happens, like when she takes me for doughnuts or when I get a CD that I've been looking for. I've been listening to Dredg constantly because they always put me in a fantastic mood. Not so much lively and exciting, but more of a peaceful tranquil one. I've noticed that when I smoke cigarettes in the car, a mint or two helps calm my head down. I'm referring to the light-headedness.

We picked up our friend Sam who is Jewish a few moments later. He is very nice and loves music. I always tell him Jewish jokes, which I know is awful, but Grace always laughs, and Sam always gives me a smile.

The best part of last night was when we went to Fort Point. Fort Point is an old army base from World War II located underneath the Golden Gate Bridge. We parked next to the ocean, layed on the hood of my car, and looked at the stars for a while. And Grace asked us a question. "If everyone tells me I'm so nice and pretty, how come I don't have a boyfriend?". Sam said he would be dating Grace if he was the "dating type". I have no idea what that means, but I think it was said to comfort her. I was pretty quiet and just kept looking at the stars. After we got back in the car to drive back home, I told her that she was just lonely, and that she didn't need a boyfriend. Sometimes I wonder if I should just ask her out one of these days, but I always come the conclusion that I don't have the emotional capacity to handle whatever answer she gives me. She also lives very far away, and she needs someone who can be with her always. I want to live in an apartment with her when I'm older and independent.

One of these days, I will sit down with my mom and explain to her why I want to take a year off before college, or not go straight into a state college right after I graduate. I have never discovered the reason for going is the problem, and she never gives me a good reason, besides that she wants me to.

I have a sick sense of humour.

cya.

-george

Saturday, September 20, 2003

What in the hell am I talking about? I have a stomachache.

This week has been rather bland. I'm still looking forward to the improv troupe tryouts which keeps being pushed back farther and farther. However, yeterday afternoon I was walking to my car for a cigarette at lunch, and the captain of the team, Greg, said, "Ha, go sign up for improv, it's right over there." It was kind of silly and complicated at the same time.

At work, Jessica and I were standing around not really saying much. This is the kind of time where I'd like to be fantastic at small talk, but I never really am. I think that's why I tell so many jokes or laugh at lot, because they always turn into something nice or awful, but either way, I'd be enjoying myself. So we were standing there and an old lady walks by wearing an oxygen respirator and I kind of chuckle (I hate the word snort) a little, trying to hold back laughter. And Jessica asked if I was throwing up or something. Looking back on that, it kind of seemed insulting or embarassing, but it kind of makes me laugh at the same time. And I said no, I was laughing and I'm going to hell. And she asked why, and I told her because I was laughing at the old lady. And she said I was going to hell. It's kind of sad really. That I'm going to hell I mean, and she reminded me of it. This whole ordeal reminded me of how I would make fun of handicapped people and make rascist jokes with Grace, but honestly, I never mean any of this, and I just try to be offensive as possible. I really don't want to go to hell, but maybe I'll take up the Buddhist religion, because I've become fascinated with it.

So after work I ended up giving Christen and Kevin a call, and they were at the Grange, which is this local punk venue where all the underground bands play. So I went, and had a horribly boring time, probably because I was so tired and I just got off work, which always depresses me because you can go into work in a stellar mood and come out in an awful one. My mom told me she understands this. So I left early only saying goodbye to Kevin because I didn't really feel like talking to Christen and her friends who were once again talking about girl stuff which makes me want to puke. I hate "girl" small talk. I just hate it. And I was kind of smiling because Christen always tells me how she hates girls but she always bullshits around with them. It's not cute actually.

After I left I kind of drove around for a bit and went to my friend Victor's house. I just sort of slept on his floor because I was tired. I woke up and Victor had to go to boy scouts (which really knocks me out because his dad was wearing the uniform too), so me and my other friend Lucas went to a place to get breakfast called "Country Waffles", which reminds of a truck stop. I've had some pretty hilarious moments there. One time, a few of my friends went at around 6am in the morning when they just opening. We were extremely tired and anxious. All you could see was a few teenage kids who looked stoned laughing at everything that was going on and spilling juice everywhere. Anyway, I dropped Lucas off and here I am.

I want to get my book done soon. I want money for CD's and things. I bought "OK, Computer" by Radiohead because my mom threw out my old CD. I was hoping they'd have the Dredg CD too, but they didn't, so I just got the West Side Story soundtrack which I'm sure both Grace and Teresa would love. I miss them both sometimes, because I always think about how bullshit most of my friends are. Hopefully school will get better because I'm failing most of my classes, and I usually have a miserable time.

On a side note, the girl who I told you was a lesbian before (who reminds me of Teresa with blonde-green hair) walked up to me one day and told me she loved the Yeah Yeah Yeahs (I was wearing the t-shirt). And I kind of smiled and said, "Awesome," but I don't think she heard me. I noticed she had pretty eyes and I've been looking for her around campus. I like to stalk people.

cya.

-george

Tuesday, September 16, 2003

I don't know what is wrong with me. I've been really obnoxious today towards everyone and not being very funny. I hate when I'm like that. Really loud and not witty in the least. Do you know what I mean? When everything that comes out of your mouth is just horrible nonsense. It's awful. I hate myself for it. I think I needed a cigarette. Maybe this is what keeps Grace away from me.

And because I haven't been smoking those depressed thoughts have been getting into my head again. You know, the me being unloved type of thoughts. I hate those, but miss those all at the same time. Damn Teresa. I wish I never met her. I hate getting my hopes up for every single thing in my life only to have nothing happen. I'm lucky only in a superficial way.

The main depressed thought today is the fact that even though you might be perfect for someone emotionally, and you know they are perfect for you emotionally, and you think they're just plain beautiful physically, they won't love you if you aren't attractive. Get a pretty face, because those clothes look awful even though they look good on the high school quarterback. Your clothes are a bold statement if you are attractive. Without a nice figure to look at, you're nothing. I wish I were a little beautiful sometimes. Nevermind, enough of this. I need a cigarette. No, I need sleep. I hate this.

cya.

-george

This is how horrible my writing's gotten lately.

George Ha
Per 4 Rice
“Notes on Camp”


“Notes on Camp” is a piece written to let future generations understand what was happening during the time it was transcribed into words from Layner’s head. He fills this piece with several allusions to the nineteen sixties and what was happening during his childhood in such a subtle manner, the average person would only notice a silly story written by a eight year old (an incredibly intellectual one anyway).
Layner lets us know this piece was written in the nineteen sixties by scattering allusions about that era within the writing. For example, he makes two references to the Beatles (a terribly popular band in the sixties): “Yellow Submarine” which was a very popular song by the band, and “Ringo” (the name of his pet frog) Starr, the drummer for the band. He also talks about his parents listening and dancing to Stan Getz, a popular jazz musician at the time, who reached the top of the charts in the mid sixties. These musical references are important because music dominated the culture of America at the time.
Another reference to the sixties era was Layner talking about his parents “making fondue”, or having intercourse while he was gone at camp. Sex, love, and peace were major parts of the era, anyone who was raised at that time can tell you that. Sex symbolized love and peace, which helped ease the pain of war and reality. “Making fondue” could also be interpreted as drug use (marijuana perhaps), which could be believable, figuring that their son Mark was gone at camp for a while, leaving them alone to do whatever they wanted to partake in.
Layner also makes some references to the war between the United States and the USSR. He speaks of camp as a gulag, as if he were a Russian prisoner, sentenced to a set time in a jailhouse. Perhaps the strange friends he made as a child in the camp symbolized the kinds of friends a person would make when they were alone with no other options in a gulag. To survive, we will make friends with whoever will be our companions if we are lonely enough.
The tone in this piece is light hearted and silly, with the story being told by an adult with the mindset of an eight year-old. He is very intelligent for his age, which was absurd, as no eight year-old makes references to French literature or scientific Latin roots. This was part of the humor Layner was trying to portray, to weave a lot of satire into a piece through the subtle use of humour. He uses words to show that he was quite innocent as a child, not knowing about “making fondue” or what happens late at night, for the purpose of showing that a child knew subconsciously what was going on in the society (world) around him, but caring in a small way (the only way children can care and understand the outside world) and still living an ordinary life (if you can call this life ordinary).

Sunday, September 14, 2003

So I figured I still need a place to record my thoughts.

The last few days have been uneventful and eventful all at the same time. Basically, I had to work both Friday and Saturday because I wanted to hang out with Grace today, but that didn't happen. For some reason, I just didn't feel like it. I'm still kind of mad at her, but I shouldn't really hold a grudge. I'm just not in the mood to feel horrible. Although that all you can eat barbeque kind of sounds good right now, I already made the choice. We'll hang out next week. I really need to get myself detached from her, but I'm very afraid I will grow obsessed over her. Plus I promise Blaise I wouldn't.

Last night I went over to my friend Kevin's old house. He's a very quiet intellectual kid who knows a lot about music and plays piano. He was telling me how he was at his old house because his friends wanted to smoke pot, and it seemed like he was kinda left out, because he was telling me how they kept laughing, but none of it was funny, and he was feeling awkward. And then he told me they were "fagots".

So when I got there, his friends went to get some more pot, so I just stood out on the porch smoking a cigarette talking to Kevin. I wish we could've talked more one on one about life in general, but his friends got back, so we had to shoot the bull with him. I went upstairs and was introduced to his friends Kelly, Evan, Kurt, and Bryan, although I already knew Bryan and Kurt.

Bryan is this guy who looks like he skates and listens to a lot of punk music. A lot of people don't like him because he's kind of annoying and pushy, but I think he's alright. I don't really "not like" people. I really like his hair. The last time I saw it was about a year ago and he had his head shaved or something. It's nice and long and soft. I want to grow it out like that. And when I was standing out on the porch smoking, he said that smoking was bad, and he was said he was kidding because he was already high.

And Kurt is this kid who I met at a party one time. He seems kind of quiet, and when he smokes, he inhales a lot. I started to call him Nightcrawler from the X-men because I thought it was a clever nickname. I'm sure only a few people would think that.

I don't really know Kelly, but she seemed nice enough so I left her alone. She was pretty at least. Later on I learned it was her first time smoking pot, which I felt was awful because she was probably feeling pressured to do it. I could just imagine her being the type of girl who goes to school and fakes a lot of stuff, and goes home and writes poems and cuts herself in the shower. Maybe not. Awful.

And Evan is this guy who brags that girls like him. He didn't really, but I could tell he's the type.

We ended up going to the park next to the house after a few minutes. There were about to smoke, but then this man around the age of 35 was walking by with his dog, and he stopped to talk to us. He started pointing out all of this graffiti claiming it was our fault even though we didn't even do anything. And Evan kept on talking back which wasn't really that smart of an idea. And the man kept saying that we should stand up for what's right and not let people graffiti on the park where little kids play. And he said he was the one who took all of it off. And after he left (he shook our hands to be friendly after threatening to "kick all of our asses if he saw us doing anything") everyone started talking bad about him. And I kind of ignored all of this and told them he was probably drunk. And they agreed. On a side note, he kept saying how we should have been home because it was two hours before curfew, which didn't really make sense.

So after a couple more hours of just talking and telling god-awful jokes, Kevin had to go home, so he kicked us all out of his house. So I ended up giving his best friend Christen a call, and I slept over at her house. This was very uneventful and boring because they were very sleepy. And this girl Lindsay was over, and she was kind of ditzy, as much as I hate that word. I honestly dislike ditzy girls who claim they are ditzes like they are proud of it or something. I also hate nailpolish.

So we just sat there and I was very quiet because I didn't really know what to say. Their conversations were about school and people and whatnot. It was all very superficial and awful. So we ended up watching Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 3, which had horrible acting which I kept laughing at. And then we fell asleep.

And sometimes I wonder if Teresa does the same bullshit that I do. Hopefully things will get better. Improv team tryouts are on Tuesday and I'm very excited.

cya.

-george