Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts
Friday, September 09, 2011
Forest Fired
Something to play while I share my dream.
It's not usual for me to feel uneasy in a woody setting. I'm usually at home in the forest, though I will sometimes get a little "antsy" around insects. I was hanging around the front of a cabin with my brother and his cronies who were planning a robbery. However, this robbery was so elaborate that they needed to ignite a forest fire in order to distract local residents and authorities from their actions. At first, I was curious about what they were up to, but after overhearing something about charcoal and gasoline, I decided that I'd rather not know. I was warned that I ought to stay close to the shore of the lake because they weren't sure how fast the flames would travel. They put their plan into action quicker than I had anticipated, because suddenly I felt hot and realized the trees around me were on fire. It was quite a run from the lake, and I headed toward it. I had to run through fiery bushes, and my pants had caught fire when I finally reached the lake. I tripped, but luckily it was one step before the edge of the pier, and I fell awkwardly into the lake.
As I looked back on the burning forest, I worried about my brother's safety. The next thought of doom that entered my head was that my iPhone was in my pocket! Motherfucker!
Suddenly, I was being questioned by the police. They had reports that it was arson. I said that I had no idea what happened. They returned a little later and asked to see my fingers. I remembered the coal that they were unloading from boxes. I had thrown a couple back into the box. I had some black smudges still on my fingers.
I decided to stick to my story.
Monday, August 29, 2011
Once in a Blood Moon
I was visiting my childhood home in Commerce, CA. Our family hasn't lived in that house since the early nineties, however, this past year, my mom and stepdad have moved back in. When I came in, the first person I wanted to meet was my parent's new son who was born while I was away living in Japan. He's already two years old, and this is the first time I'm meeting him. He's absolutely darling with a round, fresh face and charm that oozes out of him. In fact, when I was down on the floor, playing with him below the flat screen TV in the living room, I had a wave of jealousy. Why does my mom get to have this darling charmer of a child, when she said that she was done having children, yet I can't have one? I wanted to steal him. I was seriously considering it.
After spending some time playing and talking to him, I noticed two very particular things about this little fair-faced boy. First, that he was of above-average intelligence for a two-year-old child who was able to have full conversations while we were playing with the tiny cars on the floor. Second, he touched on a bit of macabre topics, wanting to crash the cars, cut open the cars with the jaws of life and chew on the bodies inside. I was a bit grossed out by his descriptive play and didn't think that was very normal for a little kid. HOW did he LEARN that kind of language, I wondered. I considered chalking it up to poor television censorship on my mom's part, but decided to go and talk to her about it.
I found her in the bedroom folding laundry and I lied down in a comfortable talking position, because I thought it might take some time to make my point. Surprisingly, all I had to say was "Mom, have you ever felt that something's not right with the baby?" She stopped folding and looked down at me, looking so sad and said, "yes, yes there is. He's got PSPT Syndrome. I didn't know what that was, but I decided to pretend that I did and figured I'd just Google it later, after she told me what happened. She didn't get a chance to tell me anything though, because somebody called her outside and she scrambled to look for her phone, then asked me to borrow mine. Her voice was urgent, so I just obliged. I didn't follow her out, and instead wondered what PSPT syndrome was, and was thinking about how I can figure it out before she came back to talk about it. I wondered what was going on outside, so I wandered out there.
I heard my name and my mom handed me my iPhone, and her face looked pissed off. Deciding that asking her what was wrong might warrant a long list of complaints, I decided to keep quiet for a little while. However, she couldn't hold it in. "Why do you have me listed in the Do not reply list? I was confused, and still am. I didn't know then, nor now what the "do not reply" setting on the iPhone meant, nor why my mom was added to that list. I told her that, but she didn't believe me. She wasn't yelling, but I could tell by her tone and facial expression that her feelings had been really hurt by finding out her status on my cell phone. As I was fiddling about with my phone, trying to figure out what that stupid "do not reply" check box even meant, as well as how to uncheck it. While messing around with my phone, I noticed the list of dialed calls that my mom had made when she was borrowing my phone. There were 2 calls to, and 4 missed calls from a Bellevue Mental Hospital. At first I thought it was some kind of trick, joke or mistake because I don't even think that mental hospitals are called mental hospitals anymore.
Anyway, I also saw a message sent to them, and I opened it. It had an attachment file, which I also opened. It was a help request form and had a bunch of boxes. It took awhile for my eyes to adjust to the format of the boxes and to figure out what it was. It was written in my mom's writing style describing an incident where the baby was found outside in the backyard fucking a cat. I was horrified and shocked by the words, so much so that I dropped my iPhone in the rose bushes, and I couldn't find it in the darkness, as it blended with the black soil. I again heard some commotion as well as cars parking in front of the house and I decided to find my phone afterward, and go see what was going on.
I walked in after my mom, some doctors who were dressed more like dog catchers, actually, they were wearing shirts that looked just like the Kuroneko worker's uniform.
I ran in behind the group and went the opposite route as them into the living room, since there's another entrance that wasn't blocked with people. As I was walking I heard the doctor shouting, "hey, how's the baby? I've missed the baby. Haven't seen him in a while." While he was saying those words in a loud, semi-condescending tone he looked toward my brother, Ricky, to guide him to the baby's whereabouts. Without a word, Ricky pointed to the closed closet doors. The doctor opens the door suddenly, and the baby runs out, holding a giant cooking knife, swinging it at the doctor, trying to slice his knees, shins, and stabbing down as if to pin the doctor's foot to the floor. Within seconds, the doctor successfully subdues him, pulls the knife from his grubby little hands and hands it upside-down to my mother who's standing by his side.
She takes it from him, and the doctor kneels to the ground, holding and calming the boy. My mom starts reprimanding the baby for his actions. "You're a bad boy! Bad boy!" And just as sudden as the child bolted out of the closet doors, my mom swipes the knife down very quickly as if to swipe it against his skin. At first, it seems like a very small cut. I'm extremely shocked by my mom's behaviour, of physically reprimanding the baby in front of the hospital staff. But suddenly, the wound is found to be bigger than expected. Suddenly the small line of blood leaking from the fissure turns into an all-out gushing wound, immediately covering his tiny body with blood. My mom, shocked by what she has done, grabs him from the floor by his neck, the way mommy cats do to their kittens. And that was the point, when I saw her running past me, with a dying bleeding baby in her hands, with me soooo sad for the baby, crying "don't let him die, don't let him die", when I woke up with a start.
My heart was racing. I was so scared. I felt vulnerable, that I could be stabbed at any moment, and wondered if I had locked the door. I woke Chu up. She quickly went back to sleep. I walked around the house, making sure nobody was inside, and I locked the door, and woke up Chu again. I told her the dream, but realized halfway that she went back to sleep again. I was so scared. So scared and bewildered, that I even considered Skyping home to my mom to tell her of this freaky ass dream that I had about her. It was 2;47am when I looked at the clock, which would be around 9-10am in the morning. But i decided against it, I had to work in the morning.
After spending some time playing and talking to him, I noticed two very particular things about this little fair-faced boy. First, that he was of above-average intelligence for a two-year-old child who was able to have full conversations while we were playing with the tiny cars on the floor. Second, he touched on a bit of macabre topics, wanting to crash the cars, cut open the cars with the jaws of life and chew on the bodies inside. I was a bit grossed out by his descriptive play and didn't think that was very normal for a little kid. HOW did he LEARN that kind of language, I wondered. I considered chalking it up to poor television censorship on my mom's part, but decided to go and talk to her about it.
I found her in the bedroom folding laundry and I lied down in a comfortable talking position, because I thought it might take some time to make my point. Surprisingly, all I had to say was "Mom, have you ever felt that something's not right with the baby?" She stopped folding and looked down at me, looking so sad and said, "yes, yes there is. He's got PSPT Syndrome. I didn't know what that was, but I decided to pretend that I did and figured I'd just Google it later, after she told me what happened. She didn't get a chance to tell me anything though, because somebody called her outside and she scrambled to look for her phone, then asked me to borrow mine. Her voice was urgent, so I just obliged. I didn't follow her out, and instead wondered what PSPT syndrome was, and was thinking about how I can figure it out before she came back to talk about it. I wondered what was going on outside, so I wandered out there.
I heard my name and my mom handed me my iPhone, and her face looked pissed off. Deciding that asking her what was wrong might warrant a long list of complaints, I decided to keep quiet for a little while. However, she couldn't hold it in. "Why do you have me listed in the Do not reply list? I was confused, and still am. I didn't know then, nor now what the "do not reply" setting on the iPhone meant, nor why my mom was added to that list. I told her that, but she didn't believe me. She wasn't yelling, but I could tell by her tone and facial expression that her feelings had been really hurt by finding out her status on my cell phone. As I was fiddling about with my phone, trying to figure out what that stupid "do not reply" check box even meant, as well as how to uncheck it. While messing around with my phone, I noticed the list of dialed calls that my mom had made when she was borrowing my phone. There were 2 calls to, and 4 missed calls from a Bellevue Mental Hospital. At first I thought it was some kind of trick, joke or mistake because I don't even think that mental hospitals are called mental hospitals anymore.
Anyway, I also saw a message sent to them, and I opened it. It had an attachment file, which I also opened. It was a help request form and had a bunch of boxes. It took awhile for my eyes to adjust to the format of the boxes and to figure out what it was. It was written in my mom's writing style describing an incident where the baby was found outside in the backyard fucking a cat. I was horrified and shocked by the words, so much so that I dropped my iPhone in the rose bushes, and I couldn't find it in the darkness, as it blended with the black soil. I again heard some commotion as well as cars parking in front of the house and I decided to find my phone afterward, and go see what was going on.
I walked in after my mom, some doctors who were dressed more like dog catchers, actually, they were wearing shirts that looked just like the Kuroneko worker's uniform.
I ran in behind the group and went the opposite route as them into the living room, since there's another entrance that wasn't blocked with people. As I was walking I heard the doctor shouting, "hey, how's the baby? I've missed the baby. Haven't seen him in a while." While he was saying those words in a loud, semi-condescending tone he looked toward my brother, Ricky, to guide him to the baby's whereabouts. Without a word, Ricky pointed to the closed closet doors. The doctor opens the door suddenly, and the baby runs out, holding a giant cooking knife, swinging it at the doctor, trying to slice his knees, shins, and stabbing down as if to pin the doctor's foot to the floor. Within seconds, the doctor successfully subdues him, pulls the knife from his grubby little hands and hands it upside-down to my mother who's standing by his side.
She takes it from him, and the doctor kneels to the ground, holding and calming the boy. My mom starts reprimanding the baby for his actions. "You're a bad boy! Bad boy!" And just as sudden as the child bolted out of the closet doors, my mom swipes the knife down very quickly as if to swipe it against his skin. At first, it seems like a very small cut. I'm extremely shocked by my mom's behaviour, of physically reprimanding the baby in front of the hospital staff. But suddenly, the wound is found to be bigger than expected. Suddenly the small line of blood leaking from the fissure turns into an all-out gushing wound, immediately covering his tiny body with blood. My mom, shocked by what she has done, grabs him from the floor by his neck, the way mommy cats do to their kittens. And that was the point, when I saw her running past me, with a dying bleeding baby in her hands, with me soooo sad for the baby, crying "don't let him die, don't let him die", when I woke up with a start.
My heart was racing. I was so scared. I felt vulnerable, that I could be stabbed at any moment, and wondered if I had locked the door. I woke Chu up. She quickly went back to sleep. I walked around the house, making sure nobody was inside, and I locked the door, and woke up Chu again. I told her the dream, but realized halfway that she went back to sleep again. I was so scared. So scared and bewildered, that I even considered Skyping home to my mom to tell her of this freaky ass dream that I had about her. It was 2;47am when I looked at the clock, which would be around 9-10am in the morning. But i decided against it, I had to work in the morning.
Friday, October 17, 2008
Amor de mi Padre
Primer
There was a thunderstorm coming into the windows of our house, and my family was hiding. I would be cuddled with my father in the armchair by the window, and lightning bolts would crash into the windows, making a fire in our house.
Segundo
I would be playing with my toys in the middle of the living room with my parents in the room. Suddenly, I would start to float up into the ceiling. It would be too fast for anyone to catch me, and I'd be too high for my parents to reach me. Suddenly, the front door would open and I'd be pulled up and float up into the sky. I'd continue to float up up up, screaming in a child's voice.
Tercer
It was my birthday party, it was time to hit my pinata. They told me that other kids would be hitting my pinata first. I cried because I wanted to go first. I ran behind the garage where my parents used to keep the trash cans. My dad found me and told me I would be the first one to hit my pinata.
Cuarto
I was sleeping quietly in my room when I heard arguing in the living room. I awoke and walked into the room. He was gathering his stuff to leave. He put me back into my bed, and I fell asleep holding his arm. I remembered waking as he pulled his arm away, I reached up but missed, and fell back into sleep.
Quinto
He used to call me "superbaby", and fly me around as if I really were a super baby.
I don't know if it was because my dad wasn't strong enough or I had grown too heavy, but there came a day when I lost my ability to fly.
There was a thunderstorm coming into the windows of our house, and my family was hiding. I would be cuddled with my father in the armchair by the window, and lightning bolts would crash into the windows, making a fire in our house.
Segundo
I would be playing with my toys in the middle of the living room with my parents in the room. Suddenly, I would start to float up into the ceiling. It would be too fast for anyone to catch me, and I'd be too high for my parents to reach me. Suddenly, the front door would open and I'd be pulled up and float up into the sky. I'd continue to float up up up, screaming in a child's voice.
Tercer
It was my birthday party, it was time to hit my pinata. They told me that other kids would be hitting my pinata first. I cried because I wanted to go first. I ran behind the garage where my parents used to keep the trash cans. My dad found me and told me I would be the first one to hit my pinata.
Cuarto
I was sleeping quietly in my room when I heard arguing in the living room. I awoke and walked into the room. He was gathering his stuff to leave. He put me back into my bed, and I fell asleep holding his arm. I remembered waking as he pulled his arm away, I reached up but missed, and fell back into sleep.
Quinto
He used to call me "superbaby", and fly me around as if I really were a super baby.
I don't know if it was because my dad wasn't strong enough or I had grown too heavy, but there came a day when I lost my ability to fly.
Sunday, September 07, 2008
Down Under
Last night, I walked by the Hamamatsu bar, Down Under, a local gaijin bar that has recently become overtaken by the Brazilians. However, the Brazilian explosion is not really my point today. As I was walking past, I was suddenly in a fit of laughter. I was bombarded with a series of mental image memories of my brother's first wife's bachelorette party in Vegas.
Against the wishes of everyone, my mother purchased a pack of tickets to the Las Vegas Show "Thunder from Down Under". The drinks were very expensive, but soon after the show started, we decided that this show could not be sat thru sober, so Jenna and I went and had a couple shots at the bar, and continued to watch in awe of how creepily middle-aged women behave at these shows. We soon began to feel a little guilty that our nay-saying faces began to put a damper on my mom's evening. She had been so excited for all the girls to have fun together. So, after a couple more trips to the bar, we decided to join in the utter ridiculousness of the evening, and go join the massive crowd of ladies hugging the stage hoping for one of the dancers to throw his shirt at them.
I love those strange moments when my ridiculous life lived comes back to haunt me.
Against the wishes of everyone, my mother purchased a pack of tickets to the Las Vegas Show "Thunder from Down Under". The drinks were very expensive, but soon after the show started, we decided that this show could not be sat thru sober, so Jenna and I went and had a couple shots at the bar, and continued to watch in awe of how creepily middle-aged women behave at these shows. We soon began to feel a little guilty that our nay-saying faces began to put a damper on my mom's evening. She had been so excited for all the girls to have fun together. So, after a couple more trips to the bar, we decided to join in the utter ridiculousness of the evening, and go join the massive crowd of ladies hugging the stage hoping for one of the dancers to throw his shirt at them.
I love those strange moments when my ridiculous life lived comes back to haunt me.
Saturday, December 15, 2007
Dearest Aunt Esther and Cousin Becky, and the rest of the family....
As you all know, I visited California in late November while accompanying my students on their school trip to America. I was only home for a week, and I got alot accomplished during such a short amount of time. However, I was disappointed that I hadn't a chance to meet with you guys like we had planned. It was nice talking on the phone, and our conversation made me feel all warm and happy inside.
I thought I might share some pictures of the family that I took during the welcome home Thanksgiving-esque barbecue that my Mom threw for my welcome home. It was wonderful to see my family and close friends, and I wish all of you the Merriest of Christmas's this year. I wish I could be there!
It is always such a good time to catch up with everybody at Jessie and Debbie's house. I'll especially miss hugging all the babies and seeing how old they make me feel. It is a real slap in the face when the kids you used to sneak beers with out of the ice cooler suddenly show up at the door with a car seat instead of a 12 pack:)
Please send me pictures of this year's Christmas, as I'll will send you mine of my debaucherous adventures in Thailand.
Had I to do over again, I'd have waited till the holidays to visit home so that I could be with you all. Let me walk you through the new developments of the family.
Here is my dad, Cynthia and Alex posing in front of the football game that all the men seemed to be hovering around. I'm not sure what was so important about this game, but it inspired quite a few shots of tequila which I didn't partake in. I don't believe in football.
I know, huh?
It was great seeing Ricky and Rayna. She looks older and more Jack-like everytime I see her. Joking aside, they were great companions and totally made my week due to their halarious tomfoolery and silly ways. They are quite a bunch of sillypants. By the way, her jacket reads "I'm not handicap, I'm just lazy". I tried to steal it, as I am also not handicapped, but lazy.....however, she pulled it out of my suitcase when I wasn't looking. She also stole my cool new white sunglasses. Punk.
I was quite happy to see that Rayna has been continuing to play the drumset that I left her, as well as happy that Ricky brought his guitar to the party. It is always great fun when we have our little jam sessions. This one was especially funny because of the newest Siguenza hit "Foot Fetish", where Ricky ad-libbed a hilarious ditty about how the reason that Rayna's boyfriend broke up with her was due to her freakish foot fetish. This is not completely fictional, as she constantly asks us if we would like a foot massage. I blame this creepy affliction on my mother, who makes poor Rayna massage her feet everyday.
This photo is one of my favorites because it includes some of my best friends in the world, Janine and Kenny. You have probably met them at other important occasions such as my Japan going away party, college and high school graduation, or any other family party that we have had. They now have a young son named Mikey who is quite the cutey pie. He also makes me feel old. I'm not sure if you have met Ricky's girlfriend, Stephanie, but she is the blond girl that Ricky has his arm around. The blondest child is named Christopher and he is Stephanie's son, and soon to be Ricky's kid.
I went to Disneyland for the first time in about 10 years. Here I am posing with Mikey, Kenny and Janine's son.
At Disneyland, Alex and I rode Autopia.
On my last night in California, Ricky and Stephanie came back to the house and she dyed my hair. During this time, I got a chance to speak to her more, and I came to like her very much. Stephanie is a very nice girl, and I think they are a cute couple. Perhaps you know by now, but she's pregnant.
Yes folks, my little brother is going to be a daddy soon. During the time I spent with them, I have seen Ricky take a father's role with her son, Chris. He is very playful and joking with him, but does seem to have the iron fist of discipline that can be compared with my mother. Seeing this, I have already started my very own campaign of spoiling the kid rotten. If there's one thing I know, it is that one Toni Jr. is enough, and I think they ought to have a Grandma Esther influence of pure indulgence close by their side. That's gonna be me.
Here is Chris already loving me after only a week of my attempts at friendship. I seriously cannot wait to spoil this little boy, along with the baby coming soon. Do you like how Stephanie cut and dyed my hair?
At Disneyland, I was too cheap to buy the Splash Mountain photo, however I did take a photo of a photo. This is us. It was a very good time.
Here is a photo of MammaBear in the haystack scene of her new job. She took me around and introduced me to all of her coworkers. I was touched at how she seemed so proud to pass me around and introduce her "daughter who teaches in Japan". Despite their nonchalance at my presence, I did understand her love for her job once she introduced me to her boss. This lady was a very intelligent individual who surpassed my expectations of anybody working in social services in LA. She complimented my mother's diligence in her work, and encouraged her to get back into school and become a manager like her. I liked her boss, and I'm glad my mom is happy with her job. Toni is always happy in her job as long as she is being appreciated. Even if it has crazy long hours, shitty benefits, and bad parking, she will go to work every morning with a smile on her face as long as she feels that she is doing a good job.
At these times, I like to be compared to my mother. Another beautiful quality that she has is her willingness to do silly things to make someone (namely her children) happy. What I mean by this, is that when I jokingly asked her to sit in this Thanksgiving scene and pretend to eat the corn while petting the sheep....she did it without an ounce of embarrassment. I love my Mommy.
And this brings me to my friends and brother, Alex, pictured here on Main St shortly before closing time at Disneyland. My loved ones are a great crowd, and share that quality of my Mother's. Which is to do whatever makes them laugh, be happy, and entertain their friends...even if it is dancing in front of a large group of people at Disneyland for the sheer sport of photo-taking.
Auntie, Becky....I love my family and friends, and I hope you enjoyed the update.
Miss you lots,
love,
Ronell
If you would like to see more pictures from my trip with family and friends, please visit the facebook link:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2000680&l=96c5c&id=1052160016
I thought I might share some pictures of the family that I took during the welcome home Thanksgiving-esque barbecue that my Mom threw for my welcome home. It was wonderful to see my family and close friends, and I wish all of you the Merriest of Christmas's this year. I wish I could be there!
It is always such a good time to catch up with everybody at Jessie and Debbie's house. I'll especially miss hugging all the babies and seeing how old they make me feel. It is a real slap in the face when the kids you used to sneak beers with out of the ice cooler suddenly show up at the door with a car seat instead of a 12 pack:)
Please send me pictures of this year's Christmas, as I'll will send you mine of my debaucherous adventures in Thailand.
Had I to do over again, I'd have waited till the holidays to visit home so that I could be with you all. Let me walk you through the new developments of the family.
Here is my dad, Cynthia and Alex posing in front of the football game that all the men seemed to be hovering around. I'm not sure what was so important about this game, but it inspired quite a few shots of tequila which I didn't partake in. I don't believe in football.
I know, huh?
It was great seeing Ricky and Rayna. She looks older and more Jack-like everytime I see her. Joking aside, they were great companions and totally made my week due to their halarious tomfoolery and silly ways. They are quite a bunch of sillypants. By the way, her jacket reads "I'm not handicap, I'm just lazy". I tried to steal it, as I am also not handicapped, but lazy.....however, she pulled it out of my suitcase when I wasn't looking. She also stole my cool new white sunglasses. Punk.
I was quite happy to see that Rayna has been continuing to play the drumset that I left her, as well as happy that Ricky brought his guitar to the party. It is always great fun when we have our little jam sessions. This one was especially funny because of the newest Siguenza hit "Foot Fetish", where Ricky ad-libbed a hilarious ditty about how the reason that Rayna's boyfriend broke up with her was due to her freakish foot fetish. This is not completely fictional, as she constantly asks us if we would like a foot massage. I blame this creepy affliction on my mother, who makes poor Rayna massage her feet everyday.
This photo is one of my favorites because it includes some of my best friends in the world, Janine and Kenny. You have probably met them at other important occasions such as my Japan going away party, college and high school graduation, or any other family party that we have had. They now have a young son named Mikey who is quite the cutey pie. He also makes me feel old. I'm not sure if you have met Ricky's girlfriend, Stephanie, but she is the blond girl that Ricky has his arm around. The blondest child is named Christopher and he is Stephanie's son, and soon to be Ricky's kid.
I went to Disneyland for the first time in about 10 years. Here I am posing with Mikey, Kenny and Janine's son.
At Disneyland, Alex and I rode Autopia.
On my last night in California, Ricky and Stephanie came back to the house and she dyed my hair. During this time, I got a chance to speak to her more, and I came to like her very much. Stephanie is a very nice girl, and I think they are a cute couple. Perhaps you know by now, but she's pregnant.
Yes folks, my little brother is going to be a daddy soon. During the time I spent with them, I have seen Ricky take a father's role with her son, Chris. He is very playful and joking with him, but does seem to have the iron fist of discipline that can be compared with my mother. Seeing this, I have already started my very own campaign of spoiling the kid rotten. If there's one thing I know, it is that one Toni Jr. is enough, and I think they ought to have a Grandma Esther influence of pure indulgence close by their side. That's gonna be me.
Here is Chris already loving me after only a week of my attempts at friendship. I seriously cannot wait to spoil this little boy, along with the baby coming soon. Do you like how Stephanie cut and dyed my hair?
At Disneyland, I was too cheap to buy the Splash Mountain photo, however I did take a photo of a photo. This is us. It was a very good time.
Here is a photo of MammaBear in the haystack scene of her new job. She took me around and introduced me to all of her coworkers. I was touched at how she seemed so proud to pass me around and introduce her "daughter who teaches in Japan". Despite their nonchalance at my presence, I did understand her love for her job once she introduced me to her boss. This lady was a very intelligent individual who surpassed my expectations of anybody working in social services in LA. She complimented my mother's diligence in her work, and encouraged her to get back into school and become a manager like her. I liked her boss, and I'm glad my mom is happy with her job. Toni is always happy in her job as long as she is being appreciated. Even if it has crazy long hours, shitty benefits, and bad parking, she will go to work every morning with a smile on her face as long as she feels that she is doing a good job.
At these times, I like to be compared to my mother. Another beautiful quality that she has is her willingness to do silly things to make someone (namely her children) happy. What I mean by this, is that when I jokingly asked her to sit in this Thanksgiving scene and pretend to eat the corn while petting the sheep....she did it without an ounce of embarrassment. I love my Mommy.
And this brings me to my friends and brother, Alex, pictured here on Main St shortly before closing time at Disneyland. My loved ones are a great crowd, and share that quality of my Mother's. Which is to do whatever makes them laugh, be happy, and entertain their friends...even if it is dancing in front of a large group of people at Disneyland for the sheer sport of photo-taking.
Auntie, Becky....I love my family and friends, and I hope you enjoyed the update.
Miss you lots,
love,
Ronell
If you would like to see more pictures from my trip with family and friends, please visit the facebook link:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2000680&l=96c5c&id=1052160016
Monday, November 05, 2007
Ja no michi wa hebi
I like sharing wavelengths. I like people who try new things. Even sick things, like eating raw horsemeat. Basashi is what they call it here. Horse Sashimi. This restaurant we went to was on TV because of its tasty basashi and Houtou. "Hoto" is how you say faggot in Spanish. My dad said it once when he declared the reason why he waits by the dryers while his laundry finishes is because he doesn't want those "hotos down the hall touching them." However, Houtou is also a delicious soup that may just be vegetarian. There was my favorite lil pumpkin, kabocha, floating above the noodles when the hot pot was placed in the middle of the table. The noodles are flat and wider than linguine but not as slippery as udon. There were strange roots and veggies that i hadn't recognized from any other soups I've had in Japan, so I suggest you eat it if you ever wander through the groves of Yamanashi-shi.
One highlight of the excursion was when I stood at the window wearing a horse's head, peering into the restaurant. I felt bad minutes later when he said that we probably ruined everybody's dinner. I didn't mean to do that. Minna-san, gomen.
And in the midst of troubles and distractions, a time will come when everything is still and perfect. Similar to the phenomenon that one is rarely conscious of the passing of consistencies, like breathing, blinking, thinking. Until suddenly, the temperature drops or sand blows in your face, or you see something that makes you stop and stare, and completely forget the last thirty thoughts that rushed their way through your head. And they never return.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Where does it come from?
1987
Me: Get out of here.
Ricky: Mom, Ronell won't play with me.
Mom: Ronell, play with your brother.
Ricky: (satisfied smirk)
Me: Oh, alright. I learned a new game today at school. Want to play?
Ricky: What is it?
Me: It's a card game. Go get the cards.
Ricky: Okay.
Me: No, the good deck.
Ricky: Here.
Me: Okay, the game is called 52 card pick up. I don't know...are you going to understand the rules?
Ricky: Yes, yes.
Me: Are you sure?
Ricky: I want to play 52 card pick up.
Me: Okkkkk. (Throws cards in a swirl)
Ricky: (confused look)
Me: Well, pick them up.
Ricky: (confused look)
Me: That's the game, Ricky. Now pick them up or else I'll tell Mom you're cheating and that's why I don't play with you.
Ricky: (cries)
End result: I get in trouble.
1991
Me: Hey Ricky, I have a good idea.
Ricky: What?
Me: Let's put Alex in the bathtub.
Ricky: How?
Me: Well, we can pick him up on the sheet he's sleeping on, and carry him into the bathroom and put him in the tub.
Ricky: Okay.
Alex: (cries)
End result: Ricky and I get in trouble.
Ronell: Get out of here.
Ricky: Get out of here.
Rayna: Mom, Ricky and Ronell won't play with me.
Mom: You guys, play with Rayna.
Ronell: Hey Ricky, I have an idea.
Ricky: What?
Ronell: Let's play Ocean Swirl.
Rayna: I want to play Ocean Swirl.
Ronell: Okay, Ricky, pick her up and hold her upside-down.
Ricky: (does this)
Ronell: Now let's go over to the bathroom.
Ricky: Ohhhh, Ocean Swirl.....
Rayna: (upside-down) I don't want to play Ocean Swirl anymore.
Ronell: No, you'll like it.
Ricky: (holding her over the toilet)
Ronell: Now, you drop her and I'll flush, and we'll send her on an Ocean Swirl
Rayna: (cries)
End Result: Ricky and I get in trouble.
2006
Ronell: Hey, just thought I'd warn you, Mom still gets your some of your mail and you got a letter saying you owe 843$ in back taxes.
Ricky: What are you talking about?
Ronell: Well, mom opened it since it looked official.
Ricky: Are you fucking kidding me? Fuck!
Ronell: Ya, that sucks. I gotta go.
Ricky: Ya Mom, I'm gonna go pick up that letter from the tax guys.
Mom: What are you talking about?
End result: Ricky hides my car stereo from me.
2006
Me: That's a funny picture you posted on your myspace.
Cynthia: I don't have a myspace.
Me: Ya you do, I'm on your top 8.
Cynthia: No, I don't have a myspace.
Me: Are you serious? How weird.
Cynthia: Wait a second, how long have I had a myspace?
Me: I don't know. But now that I think about it, I guess you wouldn't post such embarrassing pictures of yourself.
Cynthia: Dad, I'm going on your computer.
Me: His computer is broken right now. But I'll show you later on mine.
Cynthia: Dad, did you hear what Ronell said? There's a myspace of me that I never created.
Dad: That's really strange, Cynthia.
Me: Hey....I bet Alex made your myspace. Those bulletins from you ARE a bit personal, probably only things he would know.
Cynthia: Bulletins like what?
Me: I don't know, personal stuff, like your pooping strategies.
Cynthia: WHATTT?!?!? Give me your computer, I want to look at it.
Me:Okay
Cynthia: Dad, Alex made a myspace pretending to be me and posted a bunch of embarassing things about me!
Dad: What?
Cynthia: Ya, that jerk.
Dad: You know what? I'm gonna call that little son-of-a-bitch.
Dad: (dials number)
Me: Uhhhhhh, just kidding. I made that up.
Dad: What?
Cynthia: What?
Cynthia: cries
End result: I get in trouble.
1983
Mom: Get out of here, you'll get all wet.
Me: What are you doing?
Mom: I'm cleaning Carrot's cage.
Me: Where's Carrot?
Mom: In the house, now get away from the water. I don't want you to get your clothes wet.
Me: I bet I can fit in Carrot's cage.
Mom: No, it's wet, and it's dirty.
Me: But you cleaned it!
Mom: It still has rabbit germs. Don't get inside.
Mom: (walks away)
Me: (gets inside)
Mom: (returns)
Mom: What the hell did I tell you?
Me: Look Mommy, I'm Carrot. I'm a rabbit!
Mom: You want to be a rabbit?
Me: Yes!
Mom: Okay, then you are a rabbit.
Mom: (locks cage)
Mom: (walks into house)
Me: (waits a minute or two)
Me: (Cries)
1993
Me: I think you're driving too fast.
Mom: Well, I've gotta go to the bathroom.
Me: Me too.
Mom: (parks car)
Me: (runs into house)
Me: (runs into bathroom)
Mom: Hurry up!
Me: Ahh, what a nice lovely pee.
Mom: Hurry the fuck up!
Me: Trickling down the spout like a beautiful waterfall.
Mom: (Enters bathroom)
Mom: (Pulls down pants)
Mom: (Pees on me)
1996
Me: (walks into the house)
Mom: You are punished for a month.
Me: What? Why?
Mom: I got your report card today in the mail.
Me: Ya, so?
Mom: You got 3 C's.
Me: Shut up, no I didn't.
Mom: Don't tell me to shut up, and yes you did!
Me: Let me see.
Mom: I already put it away.
Me: In what classes?
Mom: Math, History and PE
Me: That's impossible, my teachers told me my grades.
Mom: Well, that's what your report card said, so you're punished until you get those grades up.
Me: Mr. Salvador, can i talk to you for a moment?
Mr S. Sure.
Me: You told me that I got an B in this class but my report card showed a C.
Mr S. No, you got a B.
Me: Are you sure?
Mr. S: Yes, I'm sure.
Me: Mom, I talked to all my teachers, and I didn't get any C's.
Mom: I know, you got 2 A's and a B.
Me: Huh, how did you know?
Mom: I just told you that so you'd try harder.
Me: But, you said I was punished.
Mom: Well, I don't want you on the phone so much, so you're still punished. You ought to have straight A's anyway.
I'm going home this November. I can't wait!
Me: Get out of here.
Ricky: Mom, Ronell won't play with me.
Mom: Ronell, play with your brother.
Ricky: (satisfied smirk)
Me: Oh, alright. I learned a new game today at school. Want to play?
Ricky: What is it?
Me: It's a card game. Go get the cards.
Ricky: Okay.
Me: No, the good deck.
Ricky: Here.
Me: Okay, the game is called 52 card pick up. I don't know...are you going to understand the rules?
Ricky: Yes, yes.
Me: Are you sure?
Ricky: I want to play 52 card pick up.
Me: Okkkkk. (Throws cards in a swirl)
Ricky: (confused look)
Me: Well, pick them up.
Ricky: (confused look)
Me: That's the game, Ricky. Now pick them up or else I'll tell Mom you're cheating and that's why I don't play with you.
Ricky: (cries)
End result: I get in trouble.
1991
Me: Hey Ricky, I have a good idea.
Ricky: What?
Me: Let's put Alex in the bathtub.
Ricky: How?
Me: Well, we can pick him up on the sheet he's sleeping on, and carry him into the bathroom and put him in the tub.
Ricky: Okay.
Alex: (cries)
End result: Ricky and I get in trouble.
Ronell: Get out of here.
Ricky: Get out of here.
Rayna: Mom, Ricky and Ronell won't play with me.
Mom: You guys, play with Rayna.
Ronell: Hey Ricky, I have an idea.
Ricky: What?
Ronell: Let's play Ocean Swirl.
Rayna: I want to play Ocean Swirl.
Ronell: Okay, Ricky, pick her up and hold her upside-down.
Ricky: (does this)
Ronell: Now let's go over to the bathroom.
Ricky: Ohhhh, Ocean Swirl.....
Rayna: (upside-down) I don't want to play Ocean Swirl anymore.
Ronell: No, you'll like it.
Ricky: (holding her over the toilet)
Ronell: Now, you drop her and I'll flush, and we'll send her on an Ocean Swirl
Rayna: (cries)
End Result: Ricky and I get in trouble.
2006
Ronell: Hey, just thought I'd warn you, Mom still gets your some of your mail and you got a letter saying you owe 843$ in back taxes.
Ricky: What are you talking about?
Ronell: Well, mom opened it since it looked official.
Ricky: Are you fucking kidding me? Fuck!
Ronell: Ya, that sucks. I gotta go.
Ricky: Ya Mom, I'm gonna go pick up that letter from the tax guys.
Mom: What are you talking about?
End result: Ricky hides my car stereo from me.
2006
Me: That's a funny picture you posted on your myspace.
Cynthia: I don't have a myspace.
Me: Ya you do, I'm on your top 8.
Cynthia: No, I don't have a myspace.
Me: Are you serious? How weird.
Cynthia: Wait a second, how long have I had a myspace?
Me: I don't know. But now that I think about it, I guess you wouldn't post such embarrassing pictures of yourself.
Cynthia: Dad, I'm going on your computer.
Me: His computer is broken right now. But I'll show you later on mine.
Cynthia: Dad, did you hear what Ronell said? There's a myspace of me that I never created.
Dad: That's really strange, Cynthia.
Me: Hey....I bet Alex made your myspace. Those bulletins from you ARE a bit personal, probably only things he would know.
Cynthia: Bulletins like what?
Me: I don't know, personal stuff, like your pooping strategies.
Cynthia: WHATTT?!?!? Give me your computer, I want to look at it.
Me:Okay
Cynthia: Dad, Alex made a myspace pretending to be me and posted a bunch of embarassing things about me!
Dad: What?
Cynthia: Ya, that jerk.
Dad: You know what? I'm gonna call that little son-of-a-bitch.
Dad: (dials number)
Me: Uhhhhhh, just kidding. I made that up.
Dad: What?
Cynthia: What?
Cynthia: cries
End result: I get in trouble.
1983
Mom: Get out of here, you'll get all wet.
Me: What are you doing?
Mom: I'm cleaning Carrot's cage.
Me: Where's Carrot?
Mom: In the house, now get away from the water. I don't want you to get your clothes wet.
Me: I bet I can fit in Carrot's cage.
Mom: No, it's wet, and it's dirty.
Me: But you cleaned it!
Mom: It still has rabbit germs. Don't get inside.
Mom: (walks away)
Me: (gets inside)
Mom: (returns)
Mom: What the hell did I tell you?
Me: Look Mommy, I'm Carrot. I'm a rabbit!
Mom: You want to be a rabbit?
Me: Yes!
Mom: Okay, then you are a rabbit.
Mom: (locks cage)
Mom: (walks into house)
Me: (waits a minute or two)
Me: (Cries)
1993
Me: I think you're driving too fast.
Mom: Well, I've gotta go to the bathroom.
Me: Me too.
Mom: (parks car)
Me: (runs into house)
Me: (runs into bathroom)
Mom: Hurry up!
Me: Ahh, what a nice lovely pee.
Mom: Hurry the fuck up!
Me: Trickling down the spout like a beautiful waterfall.
Mom: (Enters bathroom)
Mom: (Pulls down pants)
Mom: (Pees on me)
1996
Me: (walks into the house)
Mom: You are punished for a month.
Me: What? Why?
Mom: I got your report card today in the mail.
Me: Ya, so?
Mom: You got 3 C's.
Me: Shut up, no I didn't.
Mom: Don't tell me to shut up, and yes you did!
Me: Let me see.
Mom: I already put it away.
Me: In what classes?
Mom: Math, History and PE
Me: That's impossible, my teachers told me my grades.
Mom: Well, that's what your report card said, so you're punished until you get those grades up.
Me: Mr. Salvador, can i talk to you for a moment?
Mr S. Sure.
Me: You told me that I got an B in this class but my report card showed a C.
Mr S. No, you got a B.
Me: Are you sure?
Mr. S: Yes, I'm sure.
Me: Mom, I talked to all my teachers, and I didn't get any C's.
Mom: I know, you got 2 A's and a B.
Me: Huh, how did you know?
Mom: I just told you that so you'd try harder.
Me: But, you said I was punished.
Mom: Well, I don't want you on the phone so much, so you're still punished. You ought to have straight A's anyway.
I'm going home this November. I can't wait!
Monday, October 08, 2007
Another random blundering of a tangled autumn night
In the late 80's, my stepmother used listen to K-Earth 101, which is (or at least used to be) an oldie's radio station while driving me to morning daycare. The YMCA bus driver also used to listen to this station as she'd drive to our elementary school. I blame these two people for my inability to pass the rice paddies by my house without my inner brain radio blasting The Byrds' 1965 hit single "Turn, turn, turn".
Mind you, throughout the lyrics, there is no mention of rice fields, or persimmon trees buried in ready and rotting fruit. It says nothing of riding on a scratched up 1 speed bicycle in the perfect 72 degree afternoon autumn breeze, breathing in the slight scent of burning foliage, hearing children run under the blue, pink and purple skies that paint the scenes of a small Japanese farming town.
It isn't the song, nor the Ecclesiastes' quote from the bible upon which it is based, that says any of that. It is my brain. Or rather, the teachings of religion classes during grades 6-12 spent in various Catholic schools, that now has made autumn and harvest synonomous with this little verse.
Now, it's not a particularly bad or annoying thing that this happens, it's just something that I wish I could turn off. It's not that I hate my religious upbringing, it's just that I wish I could turn it off. A couple of days ago, I posted a little blurb making fun of some aspects of Christianity. I wondered about who this might offend. My father? Perhaps. My grandmother? Definitely. My godmother? Fo sho.
Although I don't blame anyone for taking offense, I do wonder why. I wonder why guilt over things that deserve no ill feelings is the core of a religion that preaches love and forgiveness. I've been loved and forgiven, but I still sing stupid songs that remind me of a time when I was made to feel guilty about things as natural as the seasons.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
It's not my bag, baby!
I did not take this picture. Instead, I googled "bag of urine". Yes, people have captured plenty of bags of urine on film. Now that I look back on it, I wish that I would have photographed my bag of urine. Unfortunately, my camera was broken at the time.
My sister and I had been walking in the rain from Harajuku all the way to Otemosando when we figured that we better take a rest, look at our Tokyo map again, and hit the Toire. So I found the bathroom and rushed inside the stall, and sighed at presence of a pee-riddled squatty. I mean, we were in this super posh shopping district that had 2 story shops dedicated to 5 outfits and a pair of boots, yet all they provided were squatties? So as I fumbled inside the stall with my backpack, shopping bags, umbrella, and whatever else was hanging from my appendages I looked around for hooks to hang my stuff on, all the while pulling at skirt ready to pee. (I had been holding it for awhile)I was able to rest one of my small shoulder bags atop of a little trash pail in the back corner of the stall.
As I balanced above the hole while holding my bags above the floor as to not touch any urine, I successfully kept the bags, my skirt, and my butt from touching any of the affected areas. (At least that's how I'll portray it in my written account) As quickly as I went in, I rushed out. I gathered my stuff, unlocked the door and headed toward Cynthia at the sink, ready to complain about having to use a squatty while she lucked out getting the western toilet right next to it. As I approached Cynthia, washing her hands at the sink, I noticed a look of confusion on her face. "What's that?" Now she must have seen my puzzlement in the mirror's reflection because she turned around and pointed to the clear plastic bag hanging from my hand.
I looked down. I was holding a small clear bag half-way filled with yellow liquid. I must have had on some disgusted look on my face, or perhaps I had shouted an obscenity because after that, Cynthia was laughing hysterically as I held it like one would hold a stinky diaper, running around trying to find a place to put it down. From what I can gather, i must have picked it up from the bathroom stall thinking that it was one of my bags without noticing.
It wasn't until 4 days later, while we rode the train back to Nagoya International Airport that Cynthia brought up the incident again. We laughed, of course, but then began to question why had there been a bag of pee left behind in this Tokyo bathroom stall.
Friday, January 12, 2007
Nani ga daisuki ka?
I will admit that i feel responsible for a few of the opinions that my sister holds. I have had my moments of relating what love is, and what sex is, and what human relations are, to her. Though I don't believe that I have an entire effect on the kid, i still think that some of my ideas were definitely wrong at the time. And, even as short as a year ago, I was wrong. And it goes without saying that I think my beliefs now are a bit more on the level. I mean, I'm older and wiser, right? Ne? Well, I am progressively getting older on quite a stable timeline, and age does not equal wise, that I learned, for sure. But, I hope to be different from all the other aging bastards.
I like to believe that I am on the side of truth and happiness---two virtues that rarely converge. And in admitting so, I find a greater challenge in life.
But, something that I wish that I could tell her should I be at home, in my room, with her hanging around like an annoying younger sibling often does. If I had that, right now, I'd tell her these things about love:
Love isn't about cute or sexy, or physical attraction--
Yes, I'm still a sucker for cute, sexy and delicious attraction---I'm suffering from the affliction as we speak, but it isn't love. It is something else. It is the past, or what we've learned in the past to be beauty. It is what our eyes and hands want to love.
But deary, our eyes and our hands are not trustable things. And the eye fails eventually. And the things our eye catches also fail eventually. Oh baby, much faster than we'd ever believe. It's so sad. If only beauty, style, and demeanor were everything! If that were so, i'd place all my bets now. I'm quite the idiot!
Love is extremely impermanent. Love is just a reflection in the air. Like a rainbow after a storm. It happens quickly. The suddenness of love is shocking and beautiful, and something that isn't to be reckoned with. I wish what I was saying wasn't true, and i wish that i could say love was like the Roman Coliseum, or like fire. But it's not, because love exists in humans; things that exist impermanently.
Love can last a lifetime. Now doesn't that contradict everything I've said thus far?
Well, it does, and it is proven. Mothers love their children until they die. Mothers, that is. Or Children, if so nature intends....Love will last a lifetime should it be pure.
But sexual love, or love based on attraction, or love based on anything but familial connection.....is not forever. Because people change. And lovers cannot handle when what they fell in love with changes. It's too disappointing! How dare the escape we desire eventually become what we've always known? Sexual love, it is a bitch.
But love is something that exists. If only we could make it what we'd like it to be. If only what we loved would stay that way forever. If only we were all mothers who loved our children, and regarded everyone as our children, or our brothers and sisters.
I like to believe that I am on the side of truth and happiness---two virtues that rarely converge. And in admitting so, I find a greater challenge in life.
But, something that I wish that I could tell her should I be at home, in my room, with her hanging around like an annoying younger sibling often does. If I had that, right now, I'd tell her these things about love:
Love isn't about cute or sexy, or physical attraction--
Yes, I'm still a sucker for cute, sexy and delicious attraction---I'm suffering from the affliction as we speak, but it isn't love. It is something else. It is the past, or what we've learned in the past to be beauty. It is what our eyes and hands want to love.
But deary, our eyes and our hands are not trustable things. And the eye fails eventually. And the things our eye catches also fail eventually. Oh baby, much faster than we'd ever believe. It's so sad. If only beauty, style, and demeanor were everything! If that were so, i'd place all my bets now. I'm quite the idiot!
Love is extremely impermanent. Love is just a reflection in the air. Like a rainbow after a storm. It happens quickly. The suddenness of love is shocking and beautiful, and something that isn't to be reckoned with. I wish what I was saying wasn't true, and i wish that i could say love was like the Roman Coliseum, or like fire. But it's not, because love exists in humans; things that exist impermanently.
Love can last a lifetime. Now doesn't that contradict everything I've said thus far?
Well, it does, and it is proven. Mothers love their children until they die. Mothers, that is. Or Children, if so nature intends....Love will last a lifetime should it be pure.
But sexual love, or love based on attraction, or love based on anything but familial connection.....is not forever. Because people change. And lovers cannot handle when what they fell in love with changes. It's too disappointing! How dare the escape we desire eventually become what we've always known? Sexual love, it is a bitch.
But love is something that exists. If only we could make it what we'd like it to be. If only what we loved would stay that way forever. If only we were all mothers who loved our children, and regarded everyone as our children, or our brothers and sisters.
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