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I've finally admitted to myself that I am sick of the shift I am working. 5pm-5am is no fuckin' picnic, regardless of how little work I'm actually doing. I was in a little phase of denial for a while there, telling myself that it was better than nothing, which honestly it is. Having the money is sweet and all, but I know I'm capable of earning more. Shit is buggin' me. I have more schooling than most of the people I work with, but I still get paid far less than someone that has neither a degree nor any technical certifications. What bugs me even more is the fact that I want more money. Scratch that, I need more money. Not so I can live lavishly or anything. I just want to provide my family with the simple things my parents provided me with. Funny thing about that choice of words is the fact that I've learned that there is nothing easy about it. A mortage is fuckin' HARD to pay when you have tons of bills pulling your wallet this way and that way. I'm not even close to accomplishing anything close to that. A quick look at my FICO score last month brought any hopes of purchasing a house within the next year crashing down to reality. Finally get a job: Step Forward. Take a look at my credit report: 3 steps back.

Why am I doing it? I mean, why am I putting myself through this bullshit when I could be looking for something bigger and better. Why have I settled for this job? Well, I've always had this voice in my head telling me that I am worth much more than any employer coulnd see. I feel as if I'm meant to do something huge, maybe not necessarily for my current company, but maybe if they are lucky it will be. I get this feeling all the time. Every time I have a moment to stop and think about anything, there is that voice urging me on and keeping me content with this job. My foot is finally in the door and I have the directions to get to then next floor. What I'll find at the top of this ascension, who knows? All I know is that there is something in my head that tells me that all this bullshit I'm going through right now will lead to my rendezvous with this accomplishment and will serve as my defining moment.

I will never be famous.

I will never be rich.

Fuck social status.

Fuck unattainable standards.

Ignore social norms.

Ignore the laziness that temps your ambition.

Turn off the tv.

Turn off your computer.

Open your eyes.

Open your mind.

The 49ers beat the Eagles yesterday in overtime giving Ryan's Los Ange-er, St. Louis Rams to opportunity to cease home field advantage through out the NFC side of the playoffs. I'm just baffled by the 49ers inability to win on the road, but what is even more mind blowing is their inconsistency. Wins against the Rams, Bucs and Eagles and loses to the Browns and the Cardinals. I don't get it. If we had a half decent kicking game through the 1st half of the season, you know who we'd be? The Rams.

I haven't spoken to Kool Keith in a while. Ryan, Keith and myself used to have AIM chats bullshiting about nothing, but those are only but memory. I think he's lost any motivation to even interact with me now that the realization that his Raiders suck way more than my Niners. 49ers = Dustbuster. Raiders = Kirby. Which sucks more?

If I could suggest anything to Leah, it would be to move out of Calgary for a summer. Leah, spend a couple months in Cali or New York. I think you owe it to yourself. And if you can't get to that, go skiing for fuck's sake. The snow is RIGHT THERE.

When I read Sahalie's blog, I imagine her being someone I can talk to all night. Maybe it's the UC Davis connection or maybe it's the way I interpret her words. Yeah, it's weird, I know. Forget I even said anything.

Bing seems like somebody that would hate me. I used to joke around with Kool Keith how Bing's Toronto bus pass reminded me of a girl I used to talk to in 9th grade, so I was dementedly obsessed with that picture. Don't hate me. Please?

Matt just finished his first semester of junior college and it has become apparent that he already knows what it's like to bomb on an exam. Keep your head up, kid. There's tons more where that came from.

Albert, the Russian equivalent of the lovechild of Boner Stabone and Ivan Drago, is going to be housing Ryan when he comes up here in March. Start stocking up on the Makers. Now.

Jose, one of my best friends in the world has a blog that is very politically motivated. From what started out as regurgitation from things he's read and been taught has evolved into a very strong and educated point of view. I can respect anybody who can take what he/she has learned and be able to create their own position and opinions. We don't get to talk much anymore now that I work, but I know he's there. Big ups, Joser.

Jacob's life is fuckin' crazy.

The drive up to the Sierra at Tahoe ski resort went without a hiccup. The roads were just as clear as the blue skies and with the three of us crammed into my little mystic teal Corolla with our respective snowboards and gear, the day was shaping up to be a good one. We unloaded in the muddy parking lot and I walked ahead of the other two struggling to find a comfortable grip on my blue Santa Cruz snowboard. The snow was noticeably soft and brand spanking new from a heavy snow storm that generously dusted the mountains with over a foot of new snow the past Saturday night.

We purchased our lift tickets and headed towards the lift to Sierra's bunny slope. I couldn't help myself and noted to the other two that the lift that was labeled "The Easy Rider Express" shared it's name with a condom brand. After two runs on the bunny slope it became apparent that my skills did not carry over from the last time I hit the slopes, which was well over 10 months previous to this trip. I was very disappointed and I think I psyched myself out because the next two trips up the lift ended with me falling coming off the lift. I was convinced that I have reached a new level of suck-titude.

Brian and I decided to hit the top of the mountain and go for it. Since Cory was still a beginner, he decided to stay behind to master the bunny slope, allowing us to attack the mountain. The ride on the lift reminded me that I didn't have the proper amount of headwear. My ears were frozen and I couldn't feel my cheeks. I got of the lift rather easily and strapped in and went for it. Brian is a seasoned snowboarder, so it became pretty obvious that I was holding him back, but he was kind enough to slow me the most desirable path down the mountain.

We were pretty lucky because since it was a Monday the slopes were rather empty, and I was given a lot of space to maneuver. At my skill level, I still have to take pretty wide "carves" to remain in control of myself going down the mountain. This freedom resulted in the best boarding I've ever experienced. Don't get me wrong, I still have my fair share of falls, one of which had me checking on my body inventory and praying that I don't crap on myself. When we finally got to the bottom of the mountain, Brian mentioned to me how I'm "beginning to get it". Proud moment, yo.

I got two more full runs down the mountain before we called it a day. I was still itching for more, but since I was on such a performance high, I decided to not push for another run and the risk of ruining the day with a crappy run.

It was a great day. Great snow. Great friends. Can't really ask for anything else.

For your viewing and listening pleasure:

N' Chink

R. Kerry

The first will get boring after a while. The second will keep you laughing. I tested them myself.

I haven't felt like blogging lately. If this seems forced, then understand that it was.

I went to the company Christmas party last night. None of my co-workers were going, but I felt that it would be in my best interest to at least try to meet other people in my company, even if I don't interface with them regularly. When my wife and I arrived to the Presidio Golf Clubhouse, we only saw one familiar face, which happened to be my boss'. But other than him, not one other face looked familiar. Observation #1: I don't know anybody. The 20 or so beat that arrived before us were chatting it up in the lodge-esque, all of them dressed in the "cocktail usual". Most of the guys work dark slacks and a dress shirt. Most of the women were wearing dark dresses and skirts and their best black high heels. As I went to the back of the clubhouse to take full advantage of the free booze, I noticed a lot of the eyes wondering who I was and why they've never seen me before.

As I ordered myself a Crown Royal on the rocks, I eerily felt left out and the feeling was very high schoolish. I quickly zoomed to the feeling I had during my first day of high school. You know, the day that you realized that the world is a lot bigger than you thought it was. You get that feeling your first few days of college and when you're at your at the gym and you're there for your first time. And alone.

I guess not working at the "main" company office had contributed to it, along with the fact that I've been with this company for a mere 2 months. As we stood there, my wife and I couldn't help but notice the free food that waiters were walking around it. Hors D' Oeuvres (I had to look that shit up to make sure I spelled it right) sushi, mushroom and goat cheese something somethings, crackers and cheese. Yo, it was free so we to take advantage. I will admit though that sushi isn't exactly the best finger food. I stopped to humorously mention to my wife that this was the first time I've eaten unagi with a napkin.

Observation #2 consisted of the fact that my company is about 50% sales people and that these sales people all fall under a pretty general category: 25-35 year old white male with trophy blonde wife/girlfriend. On this night, you can also add "drunk" to their attributes. Also included in Observation #2 was that when these sales people get drunk, they get loud and obnoxious. And this was BEFORE dinner was served. Observation #2 also coincided with Excuse #1 to leave the party early. Not because of the white and trophy blonde girlfriend/wife, but because of the whole "loud and obnoxious" thingy.

Dinner was buffet and couldn't have started soon enough. As the waiters walked around telling people that the buffet was open, I couldn't help but walk straight to the food. I mean, I have no shame and I was damn hungry. I noticed that a lot of the other people weren't about to be the first ones, so I gladly made the move. Mashed potatos, check. Green beans, check. Prime rib, check. Roasted turkey, check. I sat down and dug in. The prime rib was excellent, and I even forgot the horse radish. The turkey was dry.

While I finished up, my boy Eugene had a seat next to me. He mentioned to me that my boss feels very good about my hiring and that he's happy with my progress. Great news, eh? As friend of his has a seat in front of us and we get into the coversation I was waiting to get into all night: the conversation that would give me insight on this company I work for. It was a great conversation and I think I held my own. I was intelligent, articulate and like all new employees very eager to learn. I actually had a few good conversations that night and I think people were suprisingly impressed. It felt good. I carried myself well, I impressed those I conversed with and I had a beatiful woman on my arm. Another thing that made me feel good about my job was the fact that no one I talked to had anything bad to say about the company. typically you have the "Office Space" conversations at work functions. "This shit sucks" or "I wish so and so would listen to me". None of that talk was heard. I had the opportunity to speak with the CEO, who's son happens to work with me at my office. He mentioned that he's heard nothing but good things about me. Bullshit smalltalk or genuine words, I don't really care. Either way, it's good. He looks like a good guy

After dinner and a few conversations, my wife and I decided to leave. The akwardness never really left our stomachs and we really just wanted to hang out at the house and watch a DVD I just bought. Said my goodbyes and we walked to the car under the soft San Francisco drizzle feeling pretty good about my job and my company.

BTW, my wife LOVED Bad Boys 2, as well. Not a bad way to kick off my work week.

The power of certain words sometimes moves me to make right what has been wrong for so long. These days, people use the words "race" and "ethnicity" interchangeably. In my educated opinion, I feel that "race" is a term that really holds no meaning. The only legitimate "race" is the human race. Any other use of the word irritates me to the point of actually writing about it. The following are a few posts I made on a message board when an issue between "race" and "ethnicity" came up.

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In the context of American society, Race is based specifically on APPEARANCE rather than actual ethnicity. The white RACE. The black RACE. The Asian RACE. There is nothing ethnically descriptive with any of those racial terms other than appearance.

I mean, I can write an entire thesis based on years of research proving that race is a false concept that is perpetuated by the media to further divide people.

But yo, if it's a word that happens to be "in the dictionary", I HAVE to be wrong, right?

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This post I wrote in response to the contention that the term "Race" is only slighty different than "Ethnicity".

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Slighty?

Are you trying to tell me that calling someone "white" is somehow just like calling someone "German"?

Let's take this a little further:

Wouldn't people from both Russia and the UK be considered part of the "white" race? In terms of race, YES because of the color of their skin. In terms of ethnicity, HELL NO.

Are people who are Ethiopian considered "black" in the same sense that people from Haiti and Trinidad are "black". The fact is that "black" is not an adequate term because it only tells you what they look like, not the history of their genealogy.

Another great example is the varying colors of skin you will see in the country of Brazil. If you know anything about South American colonialism, you'll know that the population of Brazil is an amalgamation of British colonists, Portuguese colonists, African slaves and indigenous people. What this mixture of people is a people with a wide range of varying skin tones. Brazilian can be anything from a dark, African-like skin tone all the way to a blonde haired, light skinned European skin tone. But are you trying to tell me that even though they are "Brazilian" one is black and one is white in terms of race? They all have identical genealogies but through the years dominant and recessive traits took different turns with each individual, but it doesn't make them much different on the genetic level.

What YOU are saying is that ethnicity and race are basically the same. What I am saying is that they are completely different things. "Race" has been a term that is being misused everywhere in our society. It has become an acceptable form of virtual segregation. Unfortunately, the use of that term is inaccurate, dated, and completely wrong.

36. 40. The first number is the number of presents my wife and I have bought so far. The second number is the total amount of presents we have to buy for Christmas. Not bad, eh?

I'm heading to 24 Hour after my shift today. Being that it's my first time ever joining a gym,Ryan was kind enough to give me a few tips on a work out routine and gym etiquette. Not too shaby. Thanks man.

I finally got a haircut on Monday. It's pretty damn sharp if you ask me. Too bad I have this huge ass zit on my forehead.

I don't regret the conversation we had yesterday. Sometimes you have to take a step back before you can take two steps forward. I've seen our future in a different light these past few months, and I think it was selfish for me to assume you had the same perspective. Come to think of it, I was probably blocking your view with the back of my head. I know it hurt to hear how disappointed I was. I still am. Admittedly, it also hurts to know that someone you love so much and see as your better half failed fulfill certain expectations. Looking back, I couldn't have possibly expected you to know and understand. We never really talked about it. I also didn't put your thoughts and feelings into account. I may be disappointed, but I don't love you any less. I don't see you as a lesser person. All I ask is for you to take my hand and walk with me. As we're walking, I can tell you what I see and you can do the same. I'll help you up every hill and pick you up when there's an unmanagable puddle. I promise that if we get lost I won't abandon you. We need to find a way to make "it" happen and I can't do it alone.

Please take my hand and walk with me. Please?

I enter this Christmas season with mixed feelings.

Christmas has become such a commercial event that it makes me sick. There are all these people scrambling around trying to buy just the right present. Television is on 24/7 Amber Alert reminding you that if you get someone a shitty present, they won't love you anymore. I mean, kids are making their parents bend over backwards just to get the present they so desperately need (read: want). It's bullshit. What did they do? Is it their birthday or something? Did they somehow lose any notion that Christmas celebrates the birth of God's only son? Kids don't even give back to their parents. While mom or dad are at Toy 'R Us trying to find that X-Box Junior told them to buy for him, Junior is online telling his Internet friends how much he hates his parents. Then, come Christmas day, Junior is playing his X-Box while mom and dad have to clean up after his messy ass and put away the card he bought them with his mom's money. I don't get that shit.

I know "It's the thought that counts", but I get this feeling that even the thought isn't being represented. I mean, what the fuck does Santa Claus stand for? Christmas has become as meaningless tournament games for 3rd place. Don't get me wrong, I love giving presents. I take this opportunity to thank people who I haven't thanked enough. And I'm sure that a lot of people feel the same way. But that fuckin' chatterbox that we call a television has got a lot of us brainwashed into consuming. Not because we want to or because we have to, but because society has told us that it is a normal event.

I know tons of parents that would rather have their kids other family members tell them that they are loved than receiving a present. The chatterbox has us believing that we can gain status and happiness through material goods when all we really need is love.

Fuck a present. Find some love and spread that around this Christmas season.