A Soccer Tale (or My Genetic Inheritance?)

Hello there. It's a new year on the calendars (Mayan and Gregorian) and this would be as good a time as any to knock the rust off of this ol' blog of mine. I haven't had the same "inspiration" recently to write as I have in the past. That doesn't mean I haven't had anything to say, I just wasn't willing to sit in front of a monitor and bang away at the letters on the keyboard to tell my stories (despite the inordinate amount of time I have spent in front of a monitor in general over the past 2 years).

In an attempt to shake off the writer's block I've been afflicted with, I'm going back to my unfinished drafts to post some of the thoughts that have been on my mind over the last 2 years. I'll call these the 'Draft Revisited' series.

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Draft Revisited #1:

My father had lived a life that was filled with as many crazy stories by the time he was in his mid-twenties. I would argue he had more unusual life experiences by that age than most "normal" people who live to the ripe old age of 85. One thing that he would occasionally leak out in his recollection of his childhood was how he was once recruited to play for the national team of his country of birth, Colombia.

As I recall the story, my father was in his pre-teens (perhaps early teen years) when a stranger saw him playing soccer (presumably with his friends, he was never specific about this part). The stranger found out a little more about this kid who showed some skill on the field. It turns out he was a scout for the Colombian national soccer team. He spoke to my dad and praised his play. He expressed a desire in having my dad try out for the national team.

The chance to play for the national team represented new opportunities for my dad. For starters, playing for the national team is an accomplishment that many take pride in. To represent your country is a tremendous honor but also an amazing personal accomplishment since only the best of the best can say they reached that level. Furthermore, he could now have the possibility to travel outside of Bogota... to travel away from the relative poverty he lived in. Not just to travel to other parts of the country but the world! His wanderlust was deeply rooted in him even at such a young age. Most importantly, if the team was good enough, he could end up playing on the largest soccer stage of them all: the World Cup.

Every boy who plays sports will inevitably fantasize about playing in the championship game: throwing the winning touchdown pass as time expires in the Super Bowl; hitting a grand slam in the bottom of the 9th to win the World Series; making the fadeaway jumper at the buzzer to win game 7 of the NBA Finals. My father loved playing soccer and knew he was good at it. The prospect of playing in the World Cup was an intoxicating dream. Simply put, to have this chance to realize this boyhood dream is something that doesn't present itself every day (pardon the hackneyed cliché).

My dad was confident that his family would support the potential realization of this dream. The scout visited my dad's house to speak to my grandparents. He attempted to sell my grandfather on the prospects of having my dad train and eventually play for the national team.

I didn't personally know my grandfather very well. Nevertheless, I have the impression - from stories told by my dad and my aunts/uncles - that he was a stern man. For better or worse, he didn't take crap from anyone. Which, by extension, also meant he could be extremely obstinate and always knew what was "best" for his family. My grandfather told the scout, in no uncertain terms, that he was not going to allow his son to be taken from his home just to play soccer.

His rationale was sound. There was no guarantee that my father would end up playing for the national team. He was just being given the opportunity to make it. The scout tried to convince my grandfather but ultimately he moved on to the next prospect on some other playground. My father was crushed. He hated my grandfather for a while. He carried the bitterness from that disappointing moment with him for his entire life (as far as I know he is still salty about it).

Interestingly, he had a chance to allow his son (me) to play in organized sports (baseball). He turned it down since he knew what was "best" for his child.  I'm not trying to imply that I was going to play for the U.S. national team in the Olympics. It was just a Little League team that I wanted to try out for. My dad didn't allow me to play and pursue my childhood dream. His explanation was that many coaches would fondle - even rape - boys on these teams and he didn't want to expose me to that.

I don't feel his rationale was as sound as my grandfather's. Then again, I could just be speaking from my biased perspective because I was denied my chance. Yet, in hindsight, all I can think about is how much of a hypocrite my dad was for not letting me try out.

Luckily for him, I didn't hear my dad's soccer story until years after my Little League disappointment. Had I known that story when I wanted to try out, I would've thrown it in his face and probably could have guilted him into giving me a chance.

Generally, the takeaway from my experiences with my father is to, essentially, do the opposite of what he did. If I want to be a good father, a good husband, a good person, I need to use him as my model of what NOT to do. I hope I can recall my disappointment of not playing Little League and his of not being able to try out for the soccer team when the day comes for my children to try something they're passionate about (whether it's sports-related or not)

*sigh* Thanks for listening. Until next time, faithful reader......

Always the bridesmaid never the... Wait, that's not right (or You are NOT the Best Man)

(Bear with me. I need to get this off my chest.)

It shouldn't occupy so much of my time.

It really shouldn't be that big of a deal.

But, for some odd reason, it has lingered in my thoughts longer than I expected and I feel the need to exorcise this growing demon.

I don't have a brother. Not by blood, anyway. I have many close friends that I consider brothers in my heart. "Brother(s) from another mother", if you like that particular colloquialism.

Given that, there has always been a part of me that wished/hoped/imagined myself being the best man at one of their weddings. Once I got to an age when my friends started getting married, I realized that a lot of these men - my brothers - have actual brothers of their own. Being selected as a best man for any of their weddings was not something I honestly considered as a possible reality. The blood brothers have more of a right (a birthright, perhaps?), a more legitimate claim to being the best man and I'm OK with that. I have been OK with that.

So why am I feeling differently about it now? Why am I so fixated on not having the chance to be a best man? I think a large part of it comes down to my perceived value as a friend. I deeply appreciate the connections I've made with these great men I call brothers. Not being considered for "best man" duties makes me feel like I've somehow haven't held up my end of the friendship.

Now I look in the proverbial mirror and ask myself  "How could I have been a better friend?" But that type of revisionist history doesn't change what has happened and I can only use this introspection to change my behavior going forward. It's not as if we're going to stop being friends.  Like I said earlier, these are my brothers. Those are bonds that are not easily destroyed, especially not because of my own insecurities.

In the past, I've taken time to consider who would be on my list of 'contenders' for best man when it's my time to get married (should that day ever come... LOL). It's not an easy decision and I know that someone may feel slighted if I don't pick them. It almost makes me wish I had a brother (no offense, Eules!) but that's not my reality. I've come to realize that there really isn't a good choice or bad choice.

Also, being selected as a groomsman is not a consolation prize! That's as much an honor as being a best man, in my humble opinion. This is not to say that if I'm not asked to participate in any form in the ceremony that I should be upset or hurt. The tedium of being able on someone else's timetable (the wedding planner or photographer or even the bride and groom) can be draining and sap some of the enjoyment out of the occasion.

Yet, when I see guys from the same circle of friends - a circle that I consider myself a part of - go through the motions with rehearsals, taking photos, or just standing at the altar with the happy couple, it makes my heart sink a little and it makes me feel left out. For much of my childhood, I felt like an outsider so this problem is probably deeper rooted than I imagined when I first started writing this.

The lesson I'd like to impart on you today, faithful reader, is to take some time out of your busy week/weekend/life and contact those who you consider close to you. Reach out to your 'brothers' and 'sisters' and let them know how much you appreciate having them in your life. I'm not encouraging this to improve your chances at being chosen as 'best man' or 'maid of honor', do it as a favor to the friendships you hold dear. The unexpected phone call, visit, or even (dare I say it?) e-mail showing your appreciation will go a long way to picking that person, or those people, up.

Don't assume they know how you feel about them. Tell them yourself!
Brighten up their day today! And who knows, maybe it will be reciprocated!

Until next time......

Look What I Found (or My Defense of Ché)

Happy 2012, Faithful Reader!

While recently skimming through old files I had saved in my old desktop computer (which had been untouched for several years now), I found this potential blog entry. I'm pretty sure it was a draft of something I wanted to post to my MySpace page. I don't recall if it ever made it to the digital ether.

But the draft has survived and I'd like to post it here for your perusal. Feel free to submit your feedback below but please be mindful of my warning at the end of the post.

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I was recently criticized for my inclusion of a photo of Ernesto Guevara in my photo gallery.  It got me thinking that there may be others who have strong opinions on the man commonly known as “Che.”  With this in mind, I’d like to explain why I included his photo and give some insight into my thoughts on the man and his vision. 

I have respect for Che Guevara's vision of a united Latin America (South, Central, North). Essentially, the purpose behind this is so all of Latin American can be a society free of United States' exploitation and become self-sufficient. In a world where the poor have to suffer while a select few citizens reap the benefits of a country whose political and economic system favors the elite, this ideal is not undesirable. I’ll admit, this is a utopian ideal.

Though I do not approve of his violent methods of spreading this message, it is no more hateful and murderous than the United States throughout 1800-1900 in Latin America. (For references try Google-ing: General John McIntosh - Florida, Davy Crockett - Texas, William Walker – Nicaragua.  These men swore allegiance to fledgling Latin American governments only to overthrow them in the name of freedom.) His actions were also necessary because no one listens to academics that just sit around and talk. By taking action it forced people to listen. As the saying goes, the squeaky wheel gets the oil.

And what happened next? The American propaganda machine goes to work to label all insurgents in the Latin America as communists (thus making them akin to the failed Utopia attempted by the Russians). Never mind the reason behind their uprising. Never mind that there was no other course of action because diplomacy had failed. Never mind the vested interest the United States had in maintaining stability in these nations to further their acquisition of wealth at the expense of Latin America.

Lets be honest... if you read history texts without the pro-American spin (not those we used in junior high and high school), you will understand why most of Latin America hates the United States. Our country has become a necessary evil because the economies of Latin America have been raped by the US. The only way any of these people can make any significant amount of money for their families is to head to "El Norte".

I don't want to ramble further... just understand that despite his violent measures, they were wholly exaggerated and only done with the positive motivation to improve the situation of the poor. It was not some perverted sense of bloodlust as some have claimed. Now as for his ties with Castro... an unfortunate circumstance in history because Castro got power hungry in Cuba and did away with the spirit of the Revolution by changing the nation to a dictatorship. Absolute power corrupts absolutely. After the Revolution, Guevara left Cuba to help the impoverished in Africa (the Congo if I am not mistaken) but also as an escape from Castro's Cuba. However, life before Castro was not much better under Batista's rule.

Do I like that now all of these "yuppy followers" use his image as a commodity to further an agenda that has nothing to do with his beliefs?? NO! I hate that his face is on a fucking T-shirt. I hate that people are making money off of his likeness.

There is a Che poster in the ALAS office (the Latino student organization at Queens College). It was placed there in the beginning of the academic year for all the members to sign. It serves as a microcosm of what I believe is not just a silly dream of an "asshole" and "murderer" but something Latinos should fight for, even if only within the borders of the US. It is my hope of a unity that can only be achieved when Latinos come together and forget our own individual differences and recognize the common social ills that affect us daily.

There will be many people who will disagree with my decision to put that photo in my gallery and will be strong in their opposition to the apparent “glorification of Che." I don't blame them. Who wants to see their enemy put on a pedestal to be worshipped? All I ask is that they understand that my admiration for the man does not condone his methods nor does it atone for those who died at his hand. Do know that his idealism and vision is what I respect. I will not make excuses for having his picture in my gallery but I hope to never be accused of being a follower of the consumerism that clouds the legacy of Ernesto Guevara. I chose to put the photo up out of my own volition not as part of a fad that will soon fade in favor of the next “pretty face.”

If you are going to debate this issue I hope you don’t resort to the typical name-calling most people are prone to.  In a discussion, it is a copout not an explanation.

I hope that this doesn't change your opinion of me because I am still the same person you knew before you read this blog. Nor will it change my opinion of you, no matter what your reaction is.>>
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There you have it, faithful reader...  Your thoughts?

Remember, remember the 5th of November... again (or RaUM's 3rd anniversary)

Is that really you? Wow, sorry for the mess. Let me clean up here for a moment while I compose myself. Thanks for the unexpected visit.

I know. It has been a while. Truth be told, I have been busy and haven't dedicated as much time to the blog as I would have liked. This is not to say I didn't want to keep writing. I've had many ideas for blog entries and just never got around to writing about them. I knew another year was about about to pass but I could not believe it's been 3 years since I started rambling on RaUM.

I haven't taken the time to look back at the Alan that started writing back in 2008 (the same guy who once wrote consistently enough to have a potentially decent following). I probably should do that soon. But, then again, there are a lot of things that I've told myself I would do "soon" or that I would "get to" at some point and they have long been forgotten in my memory.

This entry won't serve as a declaration of where I need to be (or perhaps want to be) nor will it be a reflection of the years that have passed. Instead, I will give you a snapshot of what's been on my mind lately as I try to decide, once and for all, what I will be now that I'm grown up.

I've been teaching at Queens College for about as long as this blog has been active. It turns out it is what I love to do. I'm one of the lucky ones. As a close friend told me recently, I'm one of the few who can say he is doing what he loves... and can say it with a straight face.

Teaching has always been in my blood and perhaps that's why it comes so naturally to me. Maybe it's the power trip of managing/controlling information as well as managing/controlling a class full of students. Maybe it's the performance aspect: while standing in front of the room, everything I say and do conveys a message. Then again, the primary reason I've always given folks for enjoying the job is my feeling that the work is important. Teaching and gaining knowledge is often undervalued in our modern day, instant-gratification, self-absorbed, celebrity-obsessed society. Yet sometimes, it's the ego trip that I get off on. I've had students tell me that the way I approach the material allows them to actually learn something in my class (a wonderful compliment but also a damning condemnation of my peers).

My problem is figuring out how can I do this full time. The one pre-requisite that seems to be universal is that I must have a PhD. I was able to get my job as an adjunct lecturer (a part-time teaching position at QC/CUNY) with just my MA in Sociology. At the time I completed the Masters program, I was burnt out with school and was simply grateful to have earned a graduate degree. I wasn't considering going for a PhD. However, once I started teaching and discovered I not only loved it but was pretty good at it (based on semi-annual peer evaluations by full time faculty), I realized I would have to give serious thought to a minimum of two more years as a student.

But I haven't done anything about it yet. I'm not quite sure I want to leave QC but I don't know if there would be a job for me there should I earn a PhD. I'm terrible at change unless it is forced upon me and this isn't something I'm forced to pursue. And yet the more I consider that stance I am convinced that all I'm doing is letting my dream fade away before my eyes. It shouldn't matter where I am teaching, so long as I can make a living off of it.

I also wish there was a way to just earn the PhD and get a full time job but it also isn't that simple either. I have to ensure that I have an interest in conducting research and enter my contributions to the nebulous academic ether. I also have to actively engage in the office politics which I am able to avoid now since adjuncts are, for all intents and purposes, invisible at QC. I'm sure I'm overthinking things (as I am wont to do) but these aren't idle considerations.

Who knows? We'll see what happens over the next few weeks as I try and get things in order and figure out whether entering a PhD program for Fall 2012 is something I'd be able to do. Nine months should be enough time to gather my thoughts together and prepare for the rigors of being a student again.

As for RaUM? It won't be neglected (more accurately, it won't be AS neglected). Just give me some time to kick some of the rust off of this old hunk of junk and I'll get back to writing regularly before you know it! =)

Welcome back and until next time, faithful reader......

A Childhood Poem (or Something Else I Dug Up)

Hey there,

I'll start by saying that I am not a hoarder though I do have pack rat tendencies. This morning, I was going through a pile of papers that I've kept from my high school years. It was nice to purge my apartment of the excess clutter that had gone unchecked all these years. There were so many memories that came rushing back to me (soccer on the Quad, the prom, that odd year where I had 3 different Chem teachers b/c my original Chem teacher - what was his name again?? - broke his hip after falling off of a stool).

In that chaos of dusty papers and old notebooks, I found this poem. There is a chance it may be from junior high school but the silliness of it brought a smile to my face! Enjoy y'all!

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Roses are red.
Violets are blue.
There's no chance in hell.
I'd go out with you.

Sugar is sweet.
Coal is black.
Do me a favor.
Go sit on a tack.

Snow is white.
Grass is green.
With you, in public,
I'd never be seen.

Flowers bloom.
The river flows.
What do you think I am?
One of your cheap hoes!?

Water is water.
Grass is grass.
Do me a favor
and wipe your ass.

You smell real bad.
You smell like shit.
Go take a bath.
You REALLY need it!

All in all,
what I have to say
is get a life
and have a nice day!
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[FYI, this was NOT written to me nor is it about me.]

=)

Hope you all go out and make the most of this Memorial Day weekend! And please take a moment this weekend to remember those folks who have served our country.

Until next time, faithful reader......

Survey Results (or How To Lose Friends Quickly with Just One Message)

Helllllllooooooooo everyone,

Long time no see. I've been wanting to write this entry for several months now. I've been busy with my stats classes, keeping sane, and staying afloat financially. [Sidebar: When I say "staying afloat", I mean it like drowning... but managing to get your head above water JUST long enough to catch a quick breath before you go under long enough for your lungs to burn. Rinse and repeat.]

But enough of that... I have an interesting story to tell you all. [Trust me when I tell you that the pace with which I am typing these keys now is one that only compares to those all-nighters I would pull to write my 10+ page term papers as an undergrad... only with more of a purpose... and joy.]

Several months ago, I get the following text message from a female friend:
"So gentlemen,I was having a debate w/a male friend of mine...I know this isn't a hot topic of discussion,but if ur all not embarrassed 2 respond, I'd appreciate honest responses.1)would/do u mind having sex w/ ur girl when she has her period 2)would/do u mind doing "strategic" oral sex 2 ur girl if she has her period- ask if u need clarification on strategic 3)would/do u prefer just a bj to sex from ur girl when she has her period- this one was a hoot!"

[FYI, for those of you wondering, like I did... "strategic meaning: clitoral tongue action only. not necessarily tongue to vaginal opening"]

After mulling it over I replied by e-mail (since she needed written evidence). Then I got curious to know what my fellow XY chromosome comrades thought of these questions. I got busy contacting my buddies to get their feedback. Partly to give my friend some more content for her debate but the researcher in me was curious to see if there were any trends in the responses I'd get.

Here were the questions I asked my friends:
(1) Would you/do you mind having sex with your girl when she has her period?
(2) Would you/do you mind "strategic" oral sex to your girl if she has her period? ("strategic" = tongue-to-clitoris contact)
(3) Would you/do you prefer just a BJ to sex from your girl when she is on her period?
(Follow-up to Q3) Would you ask for the BJ or only take it if offered?

I had 21 friends reply (why did I think there were more??) and here are the results (with my answers included among the totals) along with any funny/quirky/insightful quotes to these yes/no questions added in.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
(1) Yes, they would have sex during period - 12
"My penis has no sense of smell or taste"
"only in the shower or covered bed"
"with a condom and if she cleans up"
"a shower takes care of that"
"but on a VERY slow day"

No, they would not - 9
"I'd try anything once but I wouldn't be enthusiastic about it"
"but sometimes you have to take one for the team to make her happy"

Depends on state of mind - 1
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
(2) Yes, would perform "strategic" oral - 1

No "strategic" oral - 20
"NAY!!! Mouth stays fffffffaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrr away from that area until things clear up. lol"
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
(3) Yes, they would prefer BJ over sex - 15
"If she's comfortable only"
"It's easier"
"It's all about reciprocating so I won't lose sleep if there is no BJ during this time"
"If I had a choice - which most of the time I don't - I would prefer a BJ over sex"

No to BJ over sex - 5
"Sex over BJ but a BJ or a handjob would do [if that's all there is]"

Depends on state of mind - 1
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Follow-up Q
Yes (would ask for a BJ) - 2
"whatever floats her boat"
"a BJ is good but would rather have sex"
"I would ask in a diplomatic way"

No (would not ask for it but would take it if offered) - 12
"only if she prefers that"
"asking for it ruins the experience"

Other - 2
"feel bad about getting and not giving"
"it depends on the girl. some are givers and some aren't"
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It would seem as if the guys are almost split evenly among those who would and would not do it during "that time of the month". There was a resounding, nearly unanimous NO on question 2 about the strategic oral. Also when given the choice, my pool of respondents would mainly prefer a BJ over sex during this time but acknowledged that it isn't up to them (us?). I suspect there was a case of "If I have to answer this question then..." and is not really a reflection of what would actually happen under those circumstances. Finally, most of the guys recognize that getting a BJ is a privilege and not something we should necessarily ask for per se (unless done "diplomatically"! LOL). Besides, there are plenty of women who refuse to do that (just like there are plenty of guy who won't reciprocate).

I'm considering revisiting these questions but from the female perspective. Any of my female friends reading this... you've been warned. Expect an e-mail/FB message from me in the near future.

For the guys reading this... are any of you brave enough to answer these questions? You could comment anonymously but any feedback would be welcome!

Until next time, faithful reader......

Are you sick of highly paid teachers?

I will be breaking from the norm with this RaUM entry. I came across this post through a friend on FB and felt it was worth repeating (or - depending on your frame of mind - borrowing, or stealing, or sharing):

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"Teachers' hefty salaries are driving up taxes, and they only work 9 or10 months a year! It's time we put things in perspective and pay them for what they do - babysit! We can get that for less than minimum wage.

That's right. Let's give them $3.00 an hour and only the hours they worked; not any of that silly planning time, or any time they spend before or after school. That would be $19.50 a day (7:45 to 3:00 PM with 45 min. off for lunch and plan-- that equals 6 1/2 hours).

Each parent should pay $19.50 a day for these teachers to baby-sit their children. Now how many students do they teach in a day...maybe 30? So that's $19.50 x 30 = $585.00 a day.

However, remember they only work 180 days a year!!! I am not going to pay them for any vacations.

LET'S SEE.... That's $585 X 180= $105,300 per year. (Hold on! My calculator needs new batteries).

What about those special education teachers and the ones with Master's degrees? Well, we could pay them minimum wage ($7.75), and just to be fair, round it off to $8.00 an hour. That would be $8 X 6 1/2 hours X 30 children X 180 days = $280,800 per year.

Wait a minute -- there's something wrong here! There sure is!

The average teacher's salary (nationwide) is $50,000. $50,000/180 days = $277.77/per day/30 students = $9.25/6.5 hours = $1.42 per hour per student--a very inexpensive baby-sitter and they even EDUCATE your kids!

WHAT A DEAL!!!!"

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As a fellow educator, I post this in solidarity with individuals who are already teaching and those who are working hard towards their degrees in education. It's a tough road and a career path that isn't for everyone. But, for those of us who love what we do (and stick with it), this is a fresh perspective on an old argument.

Until next time, faithful reader......

Innovators in Human History (or a List of People I Secretly Admire)

Hello there,

This morning I woke up with gratitude for some of the greatest human beings ever to roam this green planet of ours. Without any further pomp or circumstance, I will list a few of them here.

(1) The hominid who first thought "Damn, those chickens [or insert any other bird] are pretty tasty. I wonder how those rocks that their babies come from taste.":

This enterprising individual is the reason why we eat eggs in the morning. [Note: I admit there is a lot more history that I'm blatantly ignoring here in between that thought and the cultural acceptance of our quotidian morning staple as a standard component of breakfast. Deal with it!]

For that revolutionary thought, Mr. (or Ms.) Hominid, I thank you!

(2) The creator of sitcoms:

This man (or woman) realized the vaudevillian/slapstick humor that audiences loved in person would work on TV. Mind you, this concept was not unique nor especially innovatiove as it had already appeared on TV in the form of variety programs (see Tonight Show w/Steve Allen or Milton Berle Show). This entertainment genius took that idea and asked himself (or herself, but let's be real here... in that era... only a guy would've been able to present this idea)... where was I... OH, yes... so this guy asked himself "Why don't we use this same humor in the normal, unassuming setting of an all-American household where hijinks and hilarity will ensue."

Thank you, Mr. TV Visionary. Without your foresight we wouldn't have such classic TV moments like the moment on Three's Company (Season 4 Episode 8: A-Camping We Will Go) where an exhausted Jack Tripper continuously tries (and fails) to get some sleep at a cabin that a friend of his has access to. He ultimately finds a hammock and creates the funny like ONLY John Ritter can. [Tangent: I miss seeing that dude on TV. I practically idolized JR when I was a kid.... dreamt of growing up to be like Jack Tripper and everything.]

(3) Billy Mays:



You read that correctly. It wasn't a typo. I didn't mean Willie Mays. Or anyone with a similar sounding name. I meant Billy f**king Mays!!

Why? Because from now until the day I die any cleaning product I will come across (no matter how REVOLUTIONARY it is and how much nano-technology is used) will always have me asking "Yes, but is it as good as the cleaning power of OxyClean?!? Hmmm?? Is it powered by the air I breath and activated by the water that you and I drink??"


If you have other individuals in human history that you admire, I'd like to hear from you. Please take a minute or two and type your comments below.

Until next time, faithful reader......

My Light Bulb Moment (or Consider It a 2011 Resolution)

Welcome back!!

It's no coincidence that the time spent on this blog decreased dramatically when I started going out with my girlfriend last spring.

I found it hard to be open and honest on the blog while simultaneously trying to remain guarded and not open up "too soon" with her at the start of the relationship.

Why the sudden change now? Am I single?? No. No. It's nothing of the sort.

I just realized what this blog meant to me and my sanity. My mental health has taken a toll lately by keeping a lot of my "random" thoughts in my head. Purging my brian of these thoughts that have weighed heavy on my conscience has been cathartic. I've been depriving myself of the opportunity to be less stressed, less overwhelmed, and less helpless for the better part of 2010, which was a challenging year. I refuse to let that happen in 2011.

Those closest to me know that I am not one to open up or share my emotions/feelings very easily. That's what makes this blog rather unique. I don't really hold much back when writing here. There is something inherently impersonal in blogging that makes it easier to write whatever I feel without censoring the content. I do happen to know some of you that visit here, whether it's occassionally or immediately after every post. For the most part, I consider my "audience" to be anonymous. I admit there are times when I want to know EVERYONE that reads this blog. Nevertheless, I truly enjoy writing for the unknown readers (including the future me).

This time away has also forced me to accept something that is probably obvious to most folks. When in a relationship, you cannot force your significant other to like the person you want to be, or the person you try to be around them. They need to accept you for who you are. For better or worse, this blog is an extension of me and maybe even a bigger piece of who I am than I care to admit. After all, a lot of who I am is left in every entry of this blog.

I kept myself from writing much in 2010. That will change going forward. It's not as if I have anything to hide. ;)

For your continued readership and patience throughout 2010, I thank you.
For those of you new to RaUM, I hope you enjoy the sneak peeks into my life.

Until next time, faithful reader......

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Addendum (2 hours after posting):
For the record, those who know me well (and that is a very short list, folks) know that I don't share my emotions/feelings very well in the "real world". Blame it on my troubled childhood or poor social skills as a youth. Perhaps, it was never learning how to deal with rejection or never understanding how to accept that life can be fucked up sometimes.

That being said, I want to be clear that the issue with the gf and my blogging had to do with my perception of how she might (or might not) react to things I had to write about. I can be very self-conscious about what I post sometimes (believe it or not!) which can make me more sensitive to any potential feedback I might get from those close to me. I hope you didn't think I was using her as a scapegoat.

English Language Miscues (or Another Pet Peeve Unveiled)

My nerves are severely frayed and I can sense all of the muscles in my body tense up as I think about what I'm going to write now...

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(1) "Humbleness":
Have you ever heard someone speak a word and do a mental double take? You can make sense of what they said after quickly (or not so quickly) deciphering the mangled portion of what they uttered.

We get what they're trying to say. Sadly, we accept these mispronunciations and move on. After all, our own über-important lives are filled with serious concerns. Why should we bother bruising someone's ego and correct them when we have bigger fish to fry? Am I right?

A word already exists for what you're trying to say here, champ: 'humility'! <For some strange reason, right after I typed it, I read the word as humidity and giggled for a bit.> You cannot take any adjective and add the suffix '-ness' to the end of it and think everything is OK. It's as bad as those folks who think they can convert any English word to Spanish by adding an '-o' at the end. It doesn't work! Understand-o?

If you don't believe me, why not tell me how stupid 'strongness' sounds to you? Perhaps 'teachableness' suits your limited English language needs?

I rest my case.

[Side note: To be fair, I know the word 'humbleness' does actually exist but it isn't commonly used. After all, we do use the word humility more than humbleness. Keep up with modern society, please.]

(2) "At the end of the day, ...":
Ahhhh yes. The hot new saying that everyone seems to be using. It's one of the most overused phrases I have heard in a long time! (It's only rivaled nowadays by 'epic', IMO.) When a person starts every other statement with this phrase, my brain goes to two places (depending on my mood): either the person has nothing of value to share and is trying to sound more interesting or the person genuinely believes the BS that's coming out of their mouths which makes me wonder what the end of their days are like. Well, not really. At the end of the day, they're not that interesting to begin with.

Damn it!!! It's contagious!!

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OKOKOKOKOKOK....
I'll stop venting now. Do you have any other words or sayings that rub you the wrong way? Do share below in the comments section!!

I hope to hear from you.
Until next time, faithful reader......

P.S. On second thought, those people that add an 'o' to the end of English words are worse. Instead of trying to learn the proper word, they decide that Spanish isn't important enough to make an effort for. In fact, they're devaluing the language and, by proxy and perhaps unintentionally, insulting an entire culture.

Envy (or Why Can't I Keep It Together)

Welcome back,

Sorry to return on such a somber tone but... here goes.

It's at moments like these that I find myself at my most weakest. Not physically but emotionally. When I feel like I'm losing control of my life, I lose control of my emotions and my vulnerabilities seep through the surface...

I cried today... I cried at not having a father. It's not as if he's dead or if I didn't know him while growing up. It's quite the contrary. He's very much alive and he has had an impact on my life. The problem is that the impact was mostly negative. When I became an adult (the magical age of 18 when the law determines you're no longer a minor), I decided to live my life in a way that was opposite to the example he set for me. I credited him with teaching me how to be a man by showing me what NOT to do. But I realize now, many years later, I still have a lot of work to do.

I sit here weeping as I realize that I may have ended up more emotionally stable had he actually died when I was young. Or if only he had decided to leave my mom instead of staying and slowly inflicting the damage he did to me, my mom, and my sister, like a deadly cancer. Instead, I sit here, with tears streaming down my face as I type this, envying those around me who have a father they respect, and love, and can turn to in times of need. I hate them... well, that's not entirely true nor is it fair. I hate that they have the luxury of having a good man, or even just a decent one, at their disposal.

I need someone to turn to. I need to feel safe. I need a rock to lean on. I need the wisdom that only comes with age. I need a father. Just not the one I have.

I don't typically cry. But lately I've found it comes really easily to me. I want to do so much more for those I love but feel handcuffed by my financial circumstances. Although money isn't everything (this isn't a cliché thrown in for effect... it truly isn't) I can't help but look at the situation we're in and recognize that we'd all have a little more piece of mind if we just had a little financial comfort. Instead, we claw and scratch and scrape together what we can to survive. I'm tired of surviving. I just want to live.

I want to enjoy life without wondering if my bills will get paid. Wondering if I'll have an apartment to live in next month. Wondering if I can get through the week. Wondering if I'll have food in the kitchen to cook a meal tonight. Wondering if I'll regain my sanity soon. Wondering what will drive me further down this hole next.

I want my dad. I need my dad. Shit... at this point, I'll take any dad. But only one will do. And that man doesn't exist. He never did.

Thanks for sticking with me, faithful reader.
Until next time......

I Ain’t ‘Fraid of No Ghost (or One Semi-Sleepless Night)

Now, bugs, on the other hand… they creep me the fuck out.

I cannot avoid the skin crawling sensation every time I see any type of insect, arachnid, or other bug-like vermin. Even when going to kill said pest, I have to take a moment to muster my courage and approach the creature without reacting in a way that will betray my stance of dominance (according to the hierarchy of the animal kingdom). Once the deed is done I feel a sense of relief but it’s the anxious moments during the standoff that I dread. The waning moments of the insect’s short life versus the nervous tension I have built inside of me creates a moment in time not unlike the high noon showdowns of the Wild West.

What the hell does this have to do with ghosts you ask? Well, unless you want to consider the spirit of the deceased bug… then nothing really. I just needed a catchy title. LOL.

But one night a few weeks ago, I had an encounter with a bug that didn’t end the way I would have liked and it still haunts me even to this day. (You like what I did there? “haunt”… ahem… never mind)

I was lying in bed on a very humid night. I felt something brush across my face and thought it might be a random hair left by my girlfriend on my pillow. I quickly realized it wasn’t a hair and I bolted out of bed to turn on the light. In the few seconds as I moved to the light source, I brushed my face repeatedly as if I had a swarm of bugs on my face as opposed to just one tiny little creature.

I caught sight of the bug flying around and it looked like a cross between a small spider, a fly and a mosquito. It had the long, thin wiry legs of a mosquito or one of those light, 6-legged house spiders and the body of a very small fly. I think had it just been a mosquito, or a small spider, I would have been able to cope with the situation much better. But it was this unique hybrid of a bug that left me disoriented and emotionally rattled. As it flew around my bedroom, I couldn’t help but squirm and squeal like a small child that has come face-to-face with his greatest fear. Eventually, I managed to compose myself long enough to see the bug fly out of my bedroom.

What made this encounter more striking was the realization that I have NEVER had a bug in my apartment in my short time here. I found it strange and was wondering how one made it inside. I’m always careful to close the screen doors on my windows. Maybe it was my girlfriend who has a habit of opening all my blinds (to let in natural light) and open windows (to get some fresh air in my apartment). It couldn’t have been my fault this little fucker was flying around my apartment causing me to lose sleep. It was about 3 in the morning when it landed on my face.

Needless to say, this meant war. I had to kill this bug so I could have piece of mind. I wouldn’t be able to relax and have the adrenaline rush wear off until the deed was done. With vengeance on my mind, I pursued my prey into the living room. I grabbed a Crate & Barrel catalog that I had been meaning to throw out and roll it up as my weapon of choice. I spied the creature as it rested on my off-white walls. Its light brown body contrasted strongly against the wall making it an easy target for my wrath.

I raised my hand, weapon at the ready, and smacked the wall. SWAT!!

As I drew back my hand to view the impending clean-up job on the wall, a wave of dread washed over me. There was no trace of bug innards on my wall. This realization was coupled with an angry fly-by across my line of sight by the offending bug. I was so sure I had hit the little fucker, how did it not die?? I must have made contact since the creature seemed to have some difficulty flying around. This was a great sign and I was out for blood. There was just one problem.

My apartment has hardwood floors. The dark wood made for perfect camouflage for the bug that was now struggling to survive. I didn’t know how hurt it was but I knew at the very least it was stunned. But I wanted it dead. That would be the only way I could go to sleep. I had already wasted about a half hour stalking this little creature and refused to lose any more precious time for sleeping. I decided to be patient. Eventually, it would fly high enough for me to strike the death blow and go to sleep. I sat on my futon waiting for the moment it would reappear.

And reappear it did. The only problem was I wasn’t ready for it. My eyelids were getting heavier and I decided to turn on the TV after 10 minutes of waiting. When I saw the bug again, I was distracted, had put down the C&B catalog, and pretty much had forgotten about the bug. I freaked out as it was now flying close to and landed on my leg. I bolted off the futon trying to gather myself for the next offensive attack on this creature. But just like before it disappeared out of sight.

This went on for another hour or so with some variations in where I sat (on the small couch, at the dining table, on the futon again) and how focused I was (I had a stretch of 15 minutes where I meticulously scanned the floor).

Once the adrenaline wore off and I hadn’t seen the bug for 20 minutes, I decided I wasted enough time trying to kill this thing. I’d try again in the morning but I had lost too much sleep and was more annoyed than anything. I closed the bedroom door (first time I had to do this at this apartment) and went to sleep.

I woke up the next morning and there was no sign of the bug. I also realized very quickly that it was my own fault that any creatures had come into the apartment in the first place. Earlier the previous day, there was rain in the forecast and I had closed all my windows. Because of the high temperature and humidity, the apartment got stuffy very quickly so I reopened some of the windows. I had left the small screen door open on one of the windows.

So, what’s the moral of the story here? If you’re going to something (anything!), be sure to do it right the first time. Whether it’s closing/opening a window, or trying to kill a pesky bedroom invader intent on disrupting your sleep.

Until next time, faithful reader……

Test Taking Archetypes (or Profiling My Students)

Tonight, my summer class will be taking their midterm and it reminded me of something I was working on informally several months ago.

As most of you may know by now, I’ve been teaching for about 2 years. In that time, I’ve seen hundreds of students taking my exams. What was interesting to me was observing my students as they trudged through my tests. During one of these boring nights of proctoring, I took note of the different behaviors that I observed among my class. I realized that there are many different types of test takers. In this RaUM entry, I’ve compiled 13 distinct groups of students and will describe each of their habits, nervous tics, or patterns that separate them from other students.

While putting together this list, I tried to think back to my time as an undergrad to recall which type of test taker I was when I was younger. But it’s just too hard to see things from the inside, especially after so many years have passed since I’ve had the nervous energy that came every time I took an exam. There’s simply no way to know how I behaved before while taking any of those tests.

Here are the 13 test taker archetypes:
1) The Yawners – These students either lost sleep studying, panicking about the exam, or simply use yawning as a coping mechanism while taking the test. They can be fairly annoying to others around them, especially when the yawns are more vocal.

2) The Fidgeters – These students suffer from leg shakes and constantly shifting position. It’s as if they cannot get comfortable in their chair while taking the test. Are they sitting on a cactus chair? WTF!!

3) The Peekers – These students have a tendency to look up while thinking of an answer but they use the professor as their primary point of focus. This can get kind of creepy after a half hour of the same thing.

4) The Anti-Peekers – These students use a similar recall technique as ‘The Peekers’ except they look around at anything, and anyone, BUT the professor. They make every effort to NOT have the professor in their line of sight while looking up. These students rouse a great deal of suspicion. I consistently feel the need to keep my eyes on them as I suspect they’re trying to cheat in the most conspicuous way possible.

5) The Eyes Down – These students are the type that will have their head down and noses buried deep in the exam paper. All I see is the top of their head during the entire exam. They will not make their face visible until they finish the exam when they finally lift their head up. Sometimes I wonder if they’re even awake and as I walk by them I listen for snoring.

6) The “Sigh”-ers – These students (like ‘The Yawners’) use a form of exhalation during the exam that can get annoying to those around them if done in excess, which is usually true for those in this group. The sighing isn’t necessarily a sign of frustration or annoyance but can simply be a release of anxiety and nervous energy.

7) The Over-Reviewers – These students are the double-, triple-, quadruple-checkers who feel the constant need to review their answers to be absolutely sure that they have answered everything correctly and avoided any possible mistake. This doesn’t mean they always catch their mistakes but they feel better having reviewed their work repeatedly before handing their exam in. They are also likely to stay for the full duration of the exam (even if they’ve finished early)

8) The ‘Dory’ – Just like the character in Finding Nemo, these students are easily distracted and almost forget the task at hand. It’s a miracle that they even finish the exam!

9) The Over-Confident – Unlike the “Over Reviewers”, this group finish their exam fairly quickly and are so sure of their performance that they don’t give any question/answer a second look while taking the exam. They’re typically among the first to finish any exam.

10) The Head Slappers – The name says it all. Another nervous tic exhibited by students either to release tension or to smack around some brain cells to recall the information they need to answer a question. No bruising or injury has occurred yet in my classes. Though there has been plenty of forehead rubbing after the slaps.

11) The Time Keepers – These students are very aware of the amount of time they have to complete an exam and will pace themselves (whether intentional or not is difficult to gauge) to complete the exam at, or near, the end time. The will use every possible minute (and, at times, second) allotted to complete the exam.

12) The Tiny Bladders – These students are the ones who in the middle of the exam ask to go to the bathroom. I personally try to avoid any conflict with the “Tiny Bladders” by telling them they should go right before the exam or hold it until they’re done. Any suspicion of cheating is grounds for a zero on an exam in my classroom this includes going to the bathroom for an extended period of time (I’m not a COMPLETE ogre about the bathroom. I understand that you can’t control the urges to go)

13) The Exasperated – These students are the ones who seem completely lost during every single exam. When they look up, they have a WTF look on their face and you can sense a tinge of desperation as they try to work their way through the exam. I feel bad for them but it’s their way. Usually they’re pleasantly surprised by their success on an exam since they tend to walk out of an exam positive that they failed.

So, faithful reader, which type are you?

Until next time……

High Praise (or The Day I Earned My Teaching Stripes)

[NOTE: This entry was almost complete as of Feb 5, 2010. It's been cleaned up a little bit but as to not mislead you, my fellow RaUMer, I have decided to not post-date it back to early February. I hope it was worth the wait.]

This Spring 2010 semester at QC, I'm co-teaching a stats class for the first time ever. I still have my own stats class which I teach in the evening. A week before the start of the Spring semester, I was offered the opportunity to take over 2 lab sections for a massive lecture class taught by Joanne Miller. It took a little bit of luck and a right-place/right-time convergence of circumstances to get me in the office of the chair of the Sociology department. It turns out the original instructor, who I went to grad school with, had decided to quit her teaching gig when she was offered a full time job at a market research firm. This left Prof. Miller without a lab instructor for 2 of her sections. The chair offered me the chance to take over the lab sections and get a little extra compensation for agreeing to it on such short notice.

Dr. Miller is the head stats instructor for the department and though she has been away for personal reasons (medical leave) for the better part of last two years, she's back in full force. I've actually worked for her before but not in this capacity. She teaches in a large lecture hall on Tuesdays to over 150 students. On Thursdays, the class gets split up into sections of approximately 20 students to do lab work which requires them to perform data analysis using real data collected from U.S. residents.

On my first meeting with the second lab class of the day, Prof Miller stopped by unexpectedly. She had some things she wanted to discuss with me but she took advantage of her time in the classroom to see me in action. I was nervous because although I've worked with her before I was never a peer. I took the same approach during this unofficial observation as I've done during my previous two observations, I focused on the material I was covering that day and tried to figure out how I can get my students to learn.

After class, as she approached me, I expected to get some constructive criticism on how I could have taught the class better. I was looking forward to getting her feedback since she has decades of experience and has, perhaps, "seen it all". Instead, I received, what I can only classify as, the greatest professional compliment I had ever gotten in my life. Dr. Miller told me that I taught my lesson just as she would... only better. (Her ACTUAL words!!)

She told me that she liked: (1) how I got the class to participate throughout the lab lesson; (2) how I managed to ask questions and get different students to respond; (3) how I had a poker face when students gave me their answers so as to not make students feel bad if they got the question wrong and to not provide clues to others on how to correct their mistakes (if, in fact, there were any); (4) that I provided the students with a very relaxed atmosphere and even she felt at ease immediately after sitting down for a few minutes; and (5) the game show gimmick where I wanted everyone to participate by raising their hands to answer some questions. She indicated that she may not be able to get away with some what I did during my lesson because of our age difference (she's significantly older than I am) but that she would adopt some of my techniques in the classroom for her classes in the future.

My jaw must have dropped!! I could not believe what she had just told me! I was waiting for the comments to be balanced out by some factors I could correct or improve upon. The only thing she did criticize was the lack of time I had towards the end of the lesson (At one point, she assisted me and took over for a few minutes while I was troubleshooting some computer issues with a handful of students in an effort to get everyone on the same page).

The only reason I was behind on time to begin with was because I had a late start having to hustle over from a building across campus and I had to familiarize myself with the new equipment in a computer lab room I never used before. I had no legitimate excuse. I should have taken the time to visit those lab rooms before the semester started but I was burnt out from the Winter class I had taught.

Receiving that feedback from Dr. Miller made me feel like I had 'arrived' as an educator. I have such a passion for what I do in the classroom and was floored by her praise. I hope that, as I continue teaching, I can maintain the high standards I've set for myself and can bring out the best in my 'kids' from week to week, semester to semester.

It'll be nearly impossible for anyone to get me off this cloud. I am truly feeling a rush of excitement and accomplishment after this first week of the Spring 2010 semester.

Someone pinch me because life CAN'T be this good.... or can it? =)

Until next time, faithful reader......

Hesitation Kills (or Learning to Put One Foot in Front of the Other)

Hi there,

I'm glad you came back to take this walk through my thoughts today. Enjoy!

I've been hesitant this year. Hesitant to take any steps forward in 2010. I'm not quite sure why this is. After such a wondrous year of progress and personal growth in 2009, 2010 has been stagnant by comparison. I have a clearer sense of what I need to do but still have the old habit of over-thinking things instead of acting on given opportunities.

A thought occurred to me earlier today and when I went searching for it, I found this comment that I wrote back in August on Twitter (and posted as a Facebook status): "Despite being a man of reason, emotions trumps reason. And there are no rules that govern emotion." I wish I had remembered this tweet sooner. But it's 'done bun'. I can't change what's already happened. All I can do is look forward and learn from my mistakes and missteps.

Over the past week or so, I've come to accept who I am. The good, the bad, and the ugly. I'm more self-assured with a better sense of who I am now. I've discovered my strengths and what makes me quintessentially Alan. I'll continue to focus on the things I could improve upon to make myself a better person. It's one thing to re-affirm that you, in fact, "love yourself" but if you don't truly know who you are... well, then who is it that you're really loving??

I have realized that my entire life I've been driven by a constant need to be better than I already am, to try and measure up to other people's expectations, and to not let those around me down. I would try to anticipate what people expected of me and would attempt to exceed those expectations. Oftentimes, I was left feeling like I've let others down. The closer I feel to someone, the greater my desire to do right by them (and, often, the greater my disappointment when I didn't 'measure up'). This was something that was instilled in me by my father when I was young. But it was done in such a way that it had a tremendously negative impact on my self-worth. I have always thought I was never good enough for any situation, any opportunity, or anyone.

So today I'm taking baby steps forward: rebuilding my self-confidence; learning to truly love myself (not just the outer me but the inner me); and reaching out to others without fear of the unknown, of not measuring up to fictitious expectations, or of rejection. Several years ago, I had done a favor for a co-worker once and he thanked me profusely and told me "Alan, tú vales oro" (click here for the translation). For the first time in a long time, I can honestly say that I agree!

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On a completely unrelated side note... my new celeb crush is Kany Garcia! ♪♫

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Thanks for stopping by this lil' ol' blog. Be sure to come back soon! =)

Until next time, faithful reader......

Growing Up is Hard (or Failure is Not an Option)

Welcome back!! =)

Life is a continuous cycle of new experiences and opportunities for self-discovery. This past week, I've come to a realization about myself that rocked my world a bit. My mood has been rather melancholy lately and I didn't understand why. Overall, things have been progressing very well in my life over the past year or so. I truly have little of consequence to complain about. Despite this, I found it difficult to remain positive for the past several weeks.

I had attributed it to my stressful school schedule with the Winter class from hell. I also considered that it might be due to the missteps I've made in regards to my love life recently (or lack thereof). Though these may have played some role in it all, I've come to realize that it's actually deeper than that. The following tweet - posted 1/30/10 at 2:50pm - says it best: "The majority of my 'newfound' swagger in '09 was a result of my weight loss. My mood has been affected since I've stayed at the same weight."

There were many great things that happened to me in 2009: making contact with old friends and reconnecting with them, the places - new and old - that I traveled to, new sensations that overwhelmed me and made me feel more alive than at any other period of my life! The one constant throughout the year was my commitment to being healthier and, consequently, the weight loss that accompanied that change in my lifestyle. "Long time" RaUM readers will recall the regular updates on my weight loss throughout the past year or so. In the past few months, I've maintained a stable weight around 185lbs (it's fluctuated between 183 and 188).

I'm certain I could lose another 10 lbs or so without being 'unhealthily skinny'. I don't expect to ever be model-esque. I'm not built that way and I made many bad decisions when I was younger that has doomed me to a life of chubbiness (or 'softness'... lol). I also understand that at some point I won't physically be able to lose any more weight without jeopardizing my health. What I overlooked during this transition was just how much my self-esteem and general positivity in 2009 was intimately associated to my weight loss and improved body image.

This week I've been reconsidering what makes me tick, reassessing what I value, and what I need to work on moving forward. I have a better handle on who I am now. Inevitably, the person I see in the mirror will most certainly change as I grow older (and hopefully a little wiser). The major pitfall I hope to avoid is forgetting who I am as I continue to evolve. Ultimately, I need to stay true to myself and everything else will take care of itself.

It's time to lay down the foundation, brick by brick, for my personal growth: to be more aware of things around me so I may learn all I can from my experiences; to be able to express myself without paralyzing myself with thoughts of potential consequences; and to enjoy every second of my life which could end at a moment's notice.

I'm still feeling introspective but won't let it get out of hand (a.k.a. entering the dreaded world of over-analyzing things to death). =)

Wishing you all peace, love, and prosperity--
Until next time, faithful reader......

Work in Progress

Welcome back,

I went on a bit of a Twitter rant this morning. I'm not sure if it was appropriate or not but I felt that I needed to get those thoughts off my chest. And since I've been dedicating this blog to that very action, I feel it is only fair to re-post the tweets here:

(Around 8:15am)
'Was startled by some news in my dream & woke up. I didnt get the whole story. Now I'm wide awake wishing I could sleep & re-enter my dream.'
[In my dream, someone started telling me about their experience the night before and it seemed like it was leading to an 'interesting' story. I couldn't even begin to imagine what it could be. But I woke up with my heart racing and all I wanted was to go back to sleep and get back into that dream]

'I can't take complements well b/c I never thought I was that special. Still makes me feel a little awkward. May come off as false modesty.'
[Annoyed and frustrated at being wide awake, I got to thinking about the night before when I was told I have a 'brilliant mind'. I've always felt I was fairly normal and to know that I might be "better" than I thought I was - in any capacity - is something that is very humbling and at the same time depressing.]

'It's probably why I don't know how to complement others even when I think they deserve it. I'm working on it. #ivegotlotstolearn'
[I think this is true. If I don't know how to take a complement then I can't easily pass them on to others. Plus, I think too damned much and, at times, I am too passive.]

'There's no pressure becoming friends w/some1 but once I'm attracted to some1 I second guess myself. What do I possibly have to offer her?'
[Some of the "old me" creeping back, I suppose. I shoot myself in the foot before I even get started. It's quite frustrating.]

'But who am I to decide what someone else wants or needs? Ultimately, it's on them.'
[Even though I feel I understand this, I still don't have that selfish edge to go after what I want and/or need. Instead, I'm more empathetic to what I perceive to be other people's needs/wants. A classic case of self-sabotage actually.]

Perhaps writing about it (and acknowledging these ideas) would make it easier for me to reconcile what's going on inside my mind and heart. These are my preliminary thoughts to my tweets from this morning. I will come back to them when I'm not as distracted by things.

Until next time, faithful reader......

Avatarized

Karaoke Obsession

Welcome back,

Happy New Year if this is your first visit to RaUM in 2010!!

Music has always been a passion of mine. Regardless of the genre, good music stirs my soul and, at times, can bring long-forgotten emotions and memories to the surface. To me, that alone is a testament to the power of music.

When I was a kid I was always involved in some kind of singing class. I was in the chorus group in elementary school. When I moved on to middle school, I got to choose a specialty for my honors class: a typing class (it turned into a computer class within a year), an art class, a band class, and chorus. I was in the art class for about 3 weeks before I realized it wasn't for me and I moved into the chorus class. Not a bad move since I was one of maybe 5 boys in a class full of girls. Even in high school, I opted to be part of chorus as an elective.

Looking back on those years of chorus was that I never had to sing a solo. I was always able to hide behind the cover of the group. Despite all the public performances I did in front of my classmates in assembly or for parents/family on special performance nights, I have a tremendous amount of stagefright when it comes to singing alone. I tend to sing very quietly when I'm around other people. My mom just told me the other day that she has NEVER heard me sing. In her entire life!! She doesn't recall a time when she has heard my angelic voice! =P

I don't know where this embarrassment comes from [that's not entirely true, Alan!! You're a perfectionist at heart and don't want others to judge you!!] but it's paralyzing. I decided to do something about it and will work on in 2010.

The easy way to combat that anxiety? Singing karaoke!! No one expects the next American Idol to appear on the stage of a bar/lounge and it's all in good fun. I've learned that it takes a lot of nerve to get up in front of a group (no matter if they're your friends or strangers) and sing a song - even one you know well!

I have a lot of respect for those who do take the stage. Their fearlessness is something I'm beginning to develop in myself.

To that end, I've been going to this bar in Brooklyn (Sugar Lounge) practically every Wednesday night, thanks to two friends of mine who have been going for several months now. I figured the best way to get that monkey off my back was to rip that sumbitch off. And so far, I've been having a lot of fun... and the nerves are slowly escaping me.

Here's my song selection thus far in my 5 visits to Sugar Lounge's 'Singin for a Supper':

Day One - (12/16/09 - My first karaoke experience. I was too scared to perform solo. I did 2 duets with an old friend)
- Plush by Stone Temple Pilots
- Against All Odds by Phil Collins

Day Two - (12/23/09 - with experienced karaoke folks... and their friends)
- Maria Maria by Santana (My first solo)
- Ain't No Sunshine by Bill Withers
(Oddly enough, on this night, I came in 2nd for the infamous FREE ENTREE at Sugar Lounge. For my first ever solo performance. I've been spoiled!!! I now want to win REALLY badly... shhhh... don't tell anyone... lol)

Day Three - (1/6/10 - bringing in 2010 with:)
- Alone by Heart
- Last Request by Paolo Nutini
- [duet] Interstate Love Song by Stone Temple Pilots

Day Four - (1/13/10)
- I Don't Wanna Be by Gavin Degraw
- You and Me by Lifehouse
- Every Little Step by Bobby Brown
- Leave the Pieces by The Wreckers
- [trio] I'm Yours by Jason Mraz

Day Five - (1/20/10)
- Home by Daughtry (was made fun of by the MC for doing ANOTHER American Idol-ish song this week after doing 'I Don't Wanna Be' the previous week)
- Geek in the Pink by Jason Mraz
- Lithium by Nirvana
- Wonderwall by Oasis

Some other songs I've been considering for 2010--
Daughtry - Life After You
Jason Mraz - Wordplay
John Mayer - Dreaming with a Broken Heart; Daughters
PM Dawn - Die Without You
Peter Gabriel - In Your Eyes
Xtreme - More Than Words

If there is ONE resolution I would continue for this new year, I would say it will be more karaoke. Singing in front of strangers has been so liberating and has gotten me to open up just a little bit more lately. More that I never thought I would actually. I still experience stage-fright. Let's be honest here, I STILL get nervous standing in front of my class despite having a year of teaching experience under my belt and knowing what I'm doing.

This will be the next big step in my personal evolution. I vow to be more open with everyone around me. That is my primary goal of 2010. And karaoke will help me get there.

Until next time, faithful reader......

My New Apartment (Part 3)

(NOTE: Sorry that this took weeks to write. This arguably has been the hardest of the 3 parts to write...... I hope it was worth your wait.)

If you need to catch up on the story, here are the links to Part 1 and Part 2

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My last week in the old apartment was fairly uneventful. The one thing I should have been dedicating my time to was packing. I had found the new apartment relatively quickly and there was a very small window to get my things over to the new place.

Instead, I was overwhelmed and exhausted with my work schedule. After getting home late after teaching each night, the LAST thing I wanted to do was PACK. Each night that week, I reasoned I had time the next day. That line of thinking didn't work when it got to be Thursday and I knew I had friends helping me move Friday night. I started getting things together in earnest on Thursday night.

I had devised a GENIUS plan to move all of my things to the new place. I was going to recruit several of my male friends to help me take furniture and bulk items to the apartment on Friday night and another group of "volunteers" would come by on Saturday (for the morning and afternoon) to take everything else. This would afford me a little extra time to pack (last minute, of course) on Friday night and MAYBE even Saturday morning. It would also allow me to rent the truck for only 24 hours.

The one snag in the ill-conceived plan was the timing of it all. You see, for those of you who don't remember, Halloween fell on a Saturday this year. I was basically asking my friends to help me move on Halloween weekend. This didn't prove to be a problem on Friday night as I got several dudes to come by and help me with what I figured was the more difficult part. The problem I had was finding people willing to help me out on Saturday. In the end, I only had about 3 people helping me the entire day.

I picked up the keys to my new apartment on Friday afternoon and picked up the UHaul truck before 5pm. My friends began arriving shortly thereafter for the big move. After several hours of heavy lifting, I took my boys out for some pizza and wings. The next morning, with many things still left to pack, I was disappointed to find that very few people were available to help me. Everyone's Halloween plans was beginning to interfere with my moving plans (grrrr). Not that I blame them but I have to admit being a little disappointed with the lack of help.

Eventually, with the help of a select few, I managed to get everything moved to my new apartment by 2AM (yes, you read that correctly*)! Oh, did I forget to mention that this was also when daylight savings time ended? When I say I was done at 2AM, I mean 2AM AFTER the clock was turned back one hour (so I was done by 3AM by my internal clock). There was JUST enough time for me to wash up and head out to my friend's Halloween party.

......

The first few weeks in the new place took some getting used to. There were many things about the life I knew that had been disrupted by the move. For starters, I was always used to living with SOMEONE. For most of my life it was my mom and for a couple of years it was with my ex. There is a lot to be said about having someone in close proximity to you. A residual closeness that I had gotten so used to and found so comforting. I didn't have to speak to the person but knowing someone was around was a nice feeling.

Now that I was living on my own I was more aware of how alone I was. Being forced to a position of self-sufficiency wasn't the issue. It was not having anyone to talk to. Not having anyone ask me a question or even tell me about their day. I had gotten so accustomed to these things in my life that I didn't realize how important it was for me to have someone with me.

There was so much alcohol that I had brought from the old apartment I figured I either needed to start drinking it myself or plan for the housewarming party. I recall the first night in my apartment I decided to have a celebratory cocktail and I made myself a margarita. The next night, I mixed myself another drink which I had with dinner. The following day I was in the mood for my 'nightly' drink while I was cooking. I had a pre-dinner cocktail and another one with dinner. Over the next few days, my own personal Happy Hour progressed to the point where I would have at least 3 drinks a night. I would go to bed buzzed daily (there were a few nights were I can say I was legitimately drunk).

This couldn't continue long term and there were two factors that led me to stop drinking as much as I did those first two weeks on my own. The first was a practical reason and it was financial. Drinking is an expensive hobby if you do too much of it and I wasn't ready to commit to buying a bottle or two every week. The second factor was much more personal. I've alluded to my father in my blog before... and it is partly due to him that I was able to stop drinking as much as I did.

My father was an alcoholic. He was in severe denial and I suspect that to this day he probably still believes he never really had a drinking problem. Though he had his moments of kindness, overall he was not a good man to my family. His way of coping with the stress in his life was to drink. To be honest, he was a better person when he was drunk. But it was this realization that really hit home with me.

I was dealing with the loneliness I was experiencing by distracting myself with my daily drinks. Alcohol was incorporated into nearly every aspect of my nightly routine. Since I got home late after teaching, I would mix a drink before starting to prepare dinner. I'd drink during dinner. I'd drink after dinner. I'd regularly fall asleep on the futon in the living room and wake up to a TV that had been on all night and staring at a half empty glass by my side.

I've since stopped drinking in excess thought I still enjoy a drink or two every now and again. In the weeks leading up to my move (and even a little after), many people told me that a person starts learning a lot about themselves when they live on their own. I didn't quite see that learning process manifest itself until I managed to clear my head of some clutter that had been keeping me from discovering who I am. I understand that the process is an ongoing one. It's an awakening of sorts; a discovery, if you will. And it is one that I'm genuinely excited about and I cannot wait to see where this journey takes me.

Until next time, faithful reader......

* A special thank you goes out to Anthony for his help on my moving weekend. He was the only one who came to help me on both days and even helped me almost until midnight on Halloween. He was heading out to the same Halloween party I was going to and I felt guilty that it was my move that made him go to the party so late. I am eternally grateful for his help during my move and I hope to someday repay him in kind. From the bottom of my heart, thank you brother! I owe you big time!