It's been a long while since I've last written on this journal, so I apologize to myself. I've learned that if you let something go for a while, then it will start letting go of you. Jo and I have been going to various family events where there are a LOT of kiddies running around. JO's sister-in-law just had her baby shower, and of course, there were was the regular fare of games for the women, food for all, and the children ran around, scraped a couple of knees and bumped a couple of heads. Makes me want to have a kid of my own. I don't really know how much of a father I would be, but knowing how much love I give my nieces and nephews, I think I will do ok.

My older brother and his wife had a tough time conceiving their baby. She had gotten pregnant about 2 years ago, but miscarried the child due to the fact that it was an ectopic pregnancy. NOt only dis she have this against her, she was diagnosed as having fibroids within and around her uterus. She underwent a major surgery to remove the fibroids, which was successful, but considerably weakened the lining of her uterus. As a result, her doctor required her to not get pregnant for one year, in order for her uterus to regain its strength. Once the year was up, my brother and his wife started to try to make a baby. After a five months or so, they went ot see a fertility specialist. The specialist laughed in their faces and told them to continue for another five months. AFter nearly a year of no success, they considered adopting a baby from the Philippines. They returned to the homeland with the desire to arrange an adoption with one of our relatives. Unfortunately, the relative's father died suddenly in the states, and she could not oversee the adoption. They decided to not push the issue with her at that difficult moment, and returned to the states. With the pressure of conceiving gone, and the prospect of doing the nasty....JUST to DO the nasty (trust me, any type of sexual notion mentioned with my brother makes me want to vomit) for fun there, they made love. Lo and behold, they were pregnant. I guess God has a plan for everyone. They were sweatin' it for a while there, but their patience wore off.

Stories like these make me appreciate how special our lives are and the people we share them with. Their baby is now 9 months old and is the sweetest little baby girl in the entire world. Usually, a proud Ninong will proclaim this of their godchild out of obligation, or the sheer love they have in their heart. I proclaim this after spending some time with this kid......she is the SWEETEST baby in the world. Not only will she do the traiditional pilipino kiddie tricks such as "beautiful eyes" or "clap your hands", she will also bend her upper body downwards to the direction of "pose!" as if she were a supermodel in a photo shoot! She will hang out with any adult without complaint, even the old, stinky, rough-handling ones that squeeze your cheeks so hard that they nearly fall off your face. She's the epitome of the "low maintenance baby". Quite the oxymoron, isn't it? Her face is half cheeks, half everything else. And she does the cutest things with her little tongue, like sticking it out constantly, or playing around by smacking her lips or moving her tongue around.

I think it's time that me and Jo had a kid. If I'm lucky, it will get Joanne's good looks, and my charm (ha!), and it's Lolas and Lolos will spoil the thing rotten. ALright, here are some names we've gone contemplated over the years....

Jonah
Josephine
Jack
Jamie
Jah Love
and of course Shenene or Laquita.

Woohoo! Had a pretty fun 4th of July weekend. Jo and I went to a friend's bbq on the fourth where we ate good food, played hostage basketball, and lit some firecrackers. You might be wondering what hostage basketball is. It's a new craze where a bunch of guys get together and make a pact to go hungry and thirsty until five people can shoot five free throws in a row. So there we were, after an hour and a half of trying to make five in a row, coming close with four in a row a couple of times, and making up new rules of two pointers and even four pointers to try to get ourselves out of the game. After an hour and a half of delirium, somebody finally ended it with a behind the house, over the roof, 22 foot four pointer. I was relieved because we were so close to creating our own society a la Lord of the Flies, and eating each others' flesh. A good time was had by all.

Yesterday, I dragged Joanne to City Beach in Fremont where Shrinkage was playing. Shrinkage is a band out of da une that is inspired by the late band, Sublime, and other punk, ska, surf bands. They played a nice set and we saw some old peeps from high school. Thanks, Jo, for staying up late last night even though you had to come into work early this morning.

In between, I went to work and didn't get spit on, kicked, or bit by any of the kids. If you don't already know, I work at a group home for boys age 6-12. They are classified as level 14 SED (seriously and emotionally distrubed), the highest level of disturbance, and most of their porblems stem from past emotional, physical, and/or sexual abuse. I love these kids, but they will tear you up if you're not paying attention. My favorite part of the job is reading the kids bedtime stories at night and tucking them in. These kids lose so many teeth that I come into work with a bunch of change so that the tooth fairy doesn't get cursed at in the morning. Despite not getting injured, one of the kids did do something pretty nasty. After being put in a room we call the Quiet Room, where there rubber walls and just one door, the kid started to take off his clothes and urinate all over the walls and on his clothes. Then, he started to wring out the urine from his boxers and place it in his mouth like a rabid dog. Pretty nasty, huh? This kid had a really, really bad childhood, and he's still only 8 years old. But between these moments of insanity and chaos, we are there to give them a ton of love and provide stability and structure in their lives. The morning before this incident, the kid actually made me a greeting card saying: "Dear Francis, you are my best friend from: the kid". Sniff, sniff.

Well, it's my first time writing in this thing, so please bear with me. I usually don't write to an audience, so I'll write as if if I was writing in my own journal. I will fill you in on certain details of my life; for example, some of you may not know that I am married, have two puppies, and like to hang out at home in my underwear. Maybe that is too much information, but hey, you're reading this blog, so you're entitled to that. I wear boxer briefs, mostly. Joanne, my lovely bride of 3 and a half years, and I went to a play at the Berkeley Repertory Theatre in Berkeley. We went with a couple of good friends, and had dinner at Kirala afterwards. It was an enjoyable weeknight of culture, good food, and lively conversation.

The name of the play was "The Guys" and starred Jimmy Smits and Wanda DeJesus, both NYPD Blue alums. It was a play written as a reaction to the September 11 terrorist attacks. Jimmy Smits plays the role of Captain Danny Flanagan, a fire captain of a NY Fire Department ladder company. It is about a couple of weeks after the attacks, and Danny finds himslef having to deliver a eulogy for 8 of his "guys". Problem is, he can't find the right words to properly eulogize them, or at least he can't keep it together enough to come up with anything on paper. He seeks the help of a writer, played by Wanda DeJesus. Incidentally, Jimmy and Wanda live together and are a real-life couple. Danny, the quintessential blue-collar New York Firefighter, is an endearing character. He is deeply distraught over the loss of his guys, but is able to talk of them with admiration, affection, and humor. He is barely able to keep it together throughout the play, but is able to stamp out a tango session with the writer (her character's name escapes me) in a moment of levity.

Man, this play was both thought-provoking and emotionally evocative. It made me think of the events of the past three years, and how Americans, New Yorkers, and individual people affected by the attacks (that's everyone, I suppose) have dealt with their emotions. Personally, I have moved on with my life. Many of us have; we watch movies like The Matrix, eat out at new restaurants, and have birthday parties for our kids. We have to move on. Otherwise life will just pass you by. But this doesn't mean that we have to forget. Watching this play reminds me of how I felt right after the attacks, and the visceral reaction I had towards the perpetrator of the attacks.

Then, I just enjoyed the beautiful job that Jimmy Smits and Wanda De Jesus did in portraying these characters. From the high-end, upper west side, latte sipping, manolo wearing character of the writer to the everyman that Jimmy Smits portrayed, everyone was deeply affected by the attacks. It made me truly appreciate the craft of acting and how much I missed seeing Bobby Simone, Jimmy's character on NYPD Blue, on the show. Dude, Wanda has a great looking body for a 40 year old. I was a bit starstruck at first, but Jimmy's character was so vulnerable and engaging, that I forgot that he was Jimmy Smits.

Overall, it was a wonderful night because we got to spend it with two of our favorite people, and we ate at Kirala, a really good Japanese restaurant with an authentic Robata grill. Although, it took almost an hour for us to be seated, we spent most of the time talking with each other so the time passed effortlessly. No worries, though, because we were the last party in the restaurant, almost staying an hour after closing time. I figure you make us wait an hour, and we'll reply in kind. Hahaha. Anyways, the food was pretty good, and the conversation was lively. It's always nice to catch up with a couple of good friends.