The curse is over!

Gotta give it up to the Boston Red Sox for chucking the gorilla, which was probably the size of King Kong, of their collective backs and getting rid of the curse of the Bambino. If you don't believe in curses, you'll believe in this one because of the dramatic shift in the foruntes of the two teams involved. In 1918, the Boston Red Sox sold Babe Ruth, arguably the greatest power hitter in the history of baseball, to the New York Yankees. Here are the numbers:

Number of World series championships prior to 1918:

Red Sox 4
Yankees 0

Number of World series championships between 1918 and 2003 (that's 85 years):

Red Sox 0
Yankees 26

Number of Boston Red Sox fans who got wicked drunk a couple of days ago: at least 5 million

I've got to eat my words. I thought trading away Nomar Garciaparra in the middle of the season was a dumb move. I thought he was the heart and soul of the team. Apparently, he was only a kidney. And you can still live a long, productive life without a kidney. Guys like David Ortiz, Pedro Martinez, Johnny Damon, Bill Mueller, and others collectively made up the heart and soul of the team. Nomars trade counterparts, Doug Mentkiewicz and Orlando Cabrera shored up the defense. Mark Bellhorn proved to be the unsung hero of the series, and what can you say about David Ortiz and Derek Lowe? DO was a cast-off from Minnesota who proved to be a clubhouse leader as well as a lightning rod for keeping the clubhouse mood light and fun. He also had 2 game winning hits, and one hit to extend a game into extra innings (which they eventually won). Derek Lowe was relegated to the bullpen after a miserable season, but stepped up HUGE in the postseason to win the clinching games in each of the three series.

I was happy to see the Red Sox come back from a 3-0 deficit against the Yankees. In fact, the World Series was just a formality to solidy this team's place in baseball history. No team has ever come back from a deficit like that. The Yankees, better known as the Evil Empire, choked big. And A-Rod's bush league interference play and subsequent argument with the umpire, just goes to show you that the good guy always wins...in the end.

Kennifer's wedding

Kennifer is comprised of Jenn Boquiren and Ken Soto. Or I should say Mr. and Mrs. Ken and Jenn Soto. Last Saturday, they got married in a beautiful church wedding in Sacramento CA.

Our wedding weekend started on Friday afternoon. I was teaching a class in Oakland up until 3pm, and only got home at 3:45pm. Jo and I ended up leaving for Sac at 4:15pm, and we were supposed to be there at 5:45pm for the rehearsal at the church. It would have taken a miracle to get there on time. Once we hit the 80 freeway in Emeryville, we were shit out of luck. Traffic was stop and go all the way to Sac, and we ended up getting there at 7:15pm, a good hour-and-a-half after we were supposed to arrive. An ominous beginning, but we were still able to practice our respective duties.

I was a secondary chord sponsor (along with Arlene E.), and Jo was a bridesmaid. Incidentally, Sac is as far in the cuts as Buttfuck, Egypt. The freeways are confusing as hell, and the farm roads are long as a dong. The restaurant was only two blocks and one right turn away, but we still traveled what seemed like 10 miles. Those are long-ass blocks! We had dinner at a chinese restaurant in the middle of one long block of asian strip mall stores and grocery stores. It was like Chinatown in the middle of Fresno, CA. Surreal, grasshopper.

We stayed two nights at the Marriot Courtyard, which was equidistant to both the Church and the downtown Hyatt which was where the reception was. It was nice to have a weekend away from the dogs, and cleaning the house. My pops took care of the pups and the rabbit. He called me on Saturday morning, and I walked him through the entire routine. It nearly took an hour to get it all done.

The wedding rolls around at 12pm, and it literally starts at 11:58am. In a filipino wedding where many of the guests are people of color, there were a lot of late arrivees. But at least, they made it to the ceremony, because the reception was still 5 hours away. Many guests just went to the reception and ditched the ceremony. Too bad, it was a beautiful ceremony. The most touching moment was when Jenn and Ken visited a picture of Jenn's father, who passed away a couple of years ago.

Jimmy took some really nice pictures, and so did Arlene. Here are their links:

Jimmy's wedding pics

Arlene's wedding pics

The reception was really fun. I can honestly say that I had the most fun at this wedding than I've had at any other wedding. Maybe it was the 7 and 7, SNPA's, and other shots that I took throughout the night, but I also had a great time with my baby. We got our freak on, and also rocked back and forth while Kai serenaded Kennifer. Very sweet, indeed. And we saw a lot of our good ole' friends. Alvin, Betty, Jenny, Charlene and her hubby, and the rest of the guys were hamming it up.

Bittersweet?! You're on crack.

I was coloring in some posters for work (yes, for work....I love my job!) and I ran across some crayons with the dumbest names imaginable. I was coloring in a building a light shade of brown, and noticed that the name of the crayon I was using was "bittersweet". What the fuck? How do you equate the feeling, bittersweet, with the color of baby crap?

They should call it "cream of baby diaper", and actually put little pieces of corn in there, for realism's sake. I saw this other crayon, which was basically gray, and it was called "timberwolf". What next..."clubbed baby seal?"





Here's some more realistic things we could all relate with: "crack-whore". It should be a combination of red and black; red for the beating that her pimp, Gregorio, is gonna give her for not giving him his money, and black for the welts on her arms from shooting up like a fiend.

I'm gonna give Crayola a call and pitch my idea. If they don't like it, they can suck my bittersweet timberwolf...if you know what I mean.

More rejected crayon names

Happy Anniversary!

I've been to two Anniversary parties in the past month. One was a 35th Anniversary party for Jo's Uncle and Aunt. The other one was a 50th Golden Anniversary party for Jo's other Uncle and Aunt. Needless to say, they were very sweet. The 35 was even sweeter because it was a surprise party thrown by the 2 sons and their respective wives. They had no idea that they were attending their own anniversary party. They were expecting to just go to a regular ole' birthday party for one of the daughter-in-laws. When they walked into the restaurant and saw that the entire place was filled with their loved ones, it was a sight to see. Auntie Alice was brought to tears, and Uncle Eddie was beaming. Very sweet, indeed.

The 50th anniversary was equally as sweet....but more like Equal or Sweet N' Low sweet. That side of Jo's family has always been cool with me, but I always get the feeling that there is a facade that hides their inner feelings (hence the artificial sweetener reference). The exception is the younger generation, who have been so suppressed by this pressure to put up a good face, that they are incredibly candid and open; sometimes a bit too open. Like Jo's little cousin, Mickey, who takes every little chance to talk behind someone's back....or even in front of their face. Everytime I see him, he's got some negativity flowing through his veins about someone else. So young and so jaded, already. Conversely, there's Vintage Star. She's got her own blog, Life Got Cold , and she opens up about things like her family, her feelings, and her fastidiousness. Even when she didn't blog, she always struck me as an honest, genuine, and sincere person. And anyways, I know she reads my blog, so ha!

One of the daughters and her husband have been married for a long time and they have four beautiful kids. A couple of years ago, the daughter/wife left her family to move in with someone else. Yet, at most of the family parties afterwards, she was present, as if nothing had happen. Fortunately, they have gotten back together since. Maybe I'm just being a dipshit and if I had asked, she would have been candid and open about it. But still, I get the same feeling from another daughter and her husband.

When I was growing up, family parties were a hoot. Insert sarcasm here. Coming from a son of a mother who would be seething mad inside, and then put up a good face in front of company, I know how this works. One minute she's cussing you out for being a bad kid, and the next minute she's smiling and laughing away with a friend of hers. I've made sure that I'm not going to be fake in front of people. If I'm frickin' angry, I'll just go away for a while. If I'm sad, I'll let people know that I'm sad. They're family, for God's sake! They'll understand.

Alright, enough negativity. Let me talk about our own anniversary. On October 9, 2004, Joanne and I celebrated our 5-year anniversary. We went to Absinthe in the Hayes Valley of SF, and had brunch. We ended up not having any breakfast food, but instead ordered a Niman Ranch burger and a chicken ceasar salad. They were delicioso! Then I gave my honey my anniversary gift to her. The item for a 5-year anniversary is wood, so I didn't want to get her just a 2 by 4 piece of wood. So I got her an silver ogee pendant in a mahogany box.



Pretty nice, if I say so myself. Later that night, I gave her my own piece of wood. Haha! Just kidding. Actually, we went to a karaoke bar to celebrate Jess' 30th birthday. AC, Patrick Monasterio, and the Lorenzo's were all there. AC was mackin' on the cute bartender. I hadn't seen Patrick since high school, so we were catching up. And Anthony, Asuncion's hubby, Neil, and I were trying our best to liquor up and gain enough courage to make fools of ourselves by singing.

When it was my turn to sing, I was lucky enough to have two of Jess' drunk-ass friends wail away, thereby hiding my own horrible voice. So I belted one out to the tune of "More than Words". I'm embarrassed to admit that I have belted this tune out more than once back in my high school/college days. Once, I even asked a DJ at an Ice Skating ring (or is it rink?) at the old Fashion Island in San Mateo to play the song. The DJ told me he didin't have it because he didn't want to shell out for the "Extreme" album because all of the songs were hard rock, and that one single, More Than Words, was their only ballad. Go figure. I couldn't remember the girl I was trying to mack on, though. Yes, there was a time before my lovely wife, Jo, when the pimp juice was flowing. Unfortunately, the flow was self-induced and would just end up on my bed sheets. Oi!

On that note, I really want to acknowledge our 5-year anniversary, because it's been a wild roller coaster of a ride these past five years. Instead of going the Equal or Sweet N' Low route, I'm going for some Honey or Raw sugar, and tell it exactly how it is. Jo and I are passionate people, and we've gotten into our share of fights and arguments. There have been times when I questioned if we were really made for one another. Our fights would escalate into throwing and yelling matches. But we have persevered through our dark days, and we try incredibly hard to maintain our love, respect, trust, and honesty with one another on a daily basis. Other than being my best friend, my role model, and my soulmate....she is also a beautiful person, inside and out. And I look forward to growing old with her. When I'm 50 years old, who else is gonna shave my mole hair? Or my ear hair?



"You make me want to be a better man" - Jack Nicholson in
As Good As It Gets

My comments are tri' in'

If you've tried to write a comment on one of my posts and haven't been able to, don't worry. You don't have anything wrong with your computer. My squawkbox comments feature is tri' in'. It's a Baskin Robbins's thang from back in the day. I remember we all used to say trippin' like that. So Ghet-toe. Tess Calub was the best at it, cuz she would do the whole head shake, eye roll, and finger snap a la' Shenene from Martin.

But I have a solution!! If you want to comment, refresh the entire page again (which you probably do anyways, so you can see my sexy photos and hear my sexy song again), and then leave a comment. It should work. For all you first-time blog readers, I'm not kidding about my sexiness. You would think I'm just being sarcastic, but really, I am a sexy motherfucker. If you don't think so, ask your moms; she'll tell you otherwise.

Warning Sign

Hung out at the Barnes and Noble at the Hilltop Plaza in Richmond while I was waiting for a class that I was going to teach at Downer Elementary. I had just done a couple of presentations at Richmond High. Man, that school is ghet-toe. I'm trying to muster up a bunch of kids to clean up Wildcat Creek in San Pablo on October 16.



Back to B&N, I saw John Stewart's book, "The History of the United States according to the people from the Daily Show", and after thumbing through it, I had to buy it. They made it look like an actual school textbook, complete with a hardcover and that stamp in the inside front cover that has the spaces for student's names and the boxes "received in good condition". Funny as hell.




Then I got to thumbing through Coldplay's book, Look at the Stars. One of my favorite songs is Warning Sign, but in my "listen to sexiness CD player", Jo put it down as Warning. It's very melodic. Apparently, Chris Martin wrote it for a girl, and hates playing and performing that song. I guess it brings up bad memories. Well, he's got Gwyneth to kick around now, so I guess he's got no worries. And she's much more endowed not that she had Apple (their newborn). Life's good for Chris.

Warning Sign

A warning sign
I missed the good part, then I realised
I started looking and the bubble burst
I started looking for excuses
Come on in
I've gotta tell you what a state I'm in
I've gotta tell you in my loudest tones
That I started looking for a warning sign

When the truth is, I miss you
Yeah the truth is, that I miss you so

A warning sign
It came back to haunt me, and I realised
That you were an island and I passed you by
And you were an island to discover

Come on in
I've gotta tell you what a state I'm in
I've gotta tell you in my loudest tones
That I started looking for a warning sign

When the truth is, I miss you
Yeah the truth is, that I miss you so

And I'm tired, I should not have let you go
Oooooooo

So I crawl back into your open arms
Yes I crawl back into your open arms
And I crawl back into your open arms
Yes I crawl back into your open arms.

Three long ass days

Bruddah, it's been a long time since I've posted, but I can unequivocably say that it wasn't out of laziness. I've been motherfuckin' busy these past two weeks, and especially the last few days. First of all, I just finished arguing with MB, one of my kids in the group home. It's 4 in the morning, and this kid is up trying to start shit up. Dude had the nerve to try to get back his gameboy when he knows it was "hotboxed" (restircted from using it) for a week because of his negative behavior. Then when I gave him a timeout direction, he muttered "You're lucky I don't beat you up and make you bloody." That shit infuriated me, so I'm going to restrict him from visiting his Grandma tomorrow. I've been driving his ass to Oakland every weekend, too, after getting off my shift in the morning. It's the only way he'll learn not to be an asshole. Last week, he got up during his church service and started cussing everyone out and throwing a tantrum. So now, his Grandmother and the counselors and therapist have worked out a plan to only reward him with a home visit if he's not acting a fool.

MS has been off the hook this whole week. He was in the Quiet Room 4 out of the last 5 days. Yesterday night, I started my shift and the day staff was restraining his ass right outside the Quiet Room. He was assaultive towards a staff member, and she immediately put him in a corner wall restraint. He was resisting for nearly thirty minutes, while screaming and crying out. But the staff member couldn't release the restraint until he was relatively calm. I was there to ensure that the restraint was safe and not injuring either party. The kid would scream bloody murder, and then start laughing out loud and saying he was just kidding. What a butt plug.

Alright, enough group home stuff. Yada, yada, yada, the kids are tough, they've had hard lives, they kick, spit, and bite. If you've read my posts before, this is all I fuckin' write about! Jesus, it'd be nice if I had a little more excitement in my life. These past two weeks, it's been work, sleep, work, and sometimes no sleep, like the past three days.

I've been wearing the same clothes for the past three days, because I haven't had time to shower up. If I'm not working, I'm sleeping, or fucking around with the dogs, or chillin' with the wifey. But even quality time w/ my baby has been extremely limited this weekend. Friday, I worked at Earth Island, and I taught/observed a lesson on the 4 R's (Reduce, Reuse, Recycle, and Rot). We went to this school off Fruitvale in Oakland, and did a community clean-up. A class of 30 students picked up three full bags of garbage in less than 45 minutes just walking around the perimeter of the school. We mostly found plastic bags, lollipop sticks, broken beer bottles, cigarette butts, and then one of the students found the inevitable outside an apartment building: a condom. The kids gathered all around it, and no one knew what it was. Until one of the kids said, "You know what it is" to another kid. Yeah, right kid. For all you know it was a water balloon. I'm glad none of the 4th graders picked it up. I was diggin' on the teacher because she was this cute, young, half-white, half-Latina (I think). She told me that she is going to take the LSAT (for law school) the day after, which means she's probably going to get away from teaching. Too bad....if my elementary school teacher looked like her, I would have paid more attention in class!

Friday evening, I picked up a ton of books and stationary from home that Jo wanted to sell at the Garage Sale. Jo's been cleaning up the house so much (with the great help of her friend, AC), like she's been a 5th hurricane descending off the shores of Florida. Hurricane Jo. I'm really grateful for all that she's done the past couple of weeks. And she's been making frequent trips to the Davis Street Transfer station to drop off recycling. Awwww, a woman after my own heart (I'm a big tree hugger if you didn't know; you know what they say....more trees, less Bush!) I've been labeled the Recycle Nazi in our household (which only consists of me, Jo, and our three pups), and Jo's been the lone Jew in the concentration camp, sort of speak. Nein! Fraulein, the paper goes here and the plastic goes there! Prepare to be shot. Anyhoo, I dropped off the books and stuff at Jo's parent's house because they were having a garage sale in the morning. Jo, Noel, Arlene, and Brady hung out at the sale all day.

Then, I went to the David's house to pick up Mari-Ela's rabbit. I know what you're thinking...dude, you already have three dogs, and you want a rabbit? Who the fuck are you? Noah? Are you building a friggin' ark? Eventually I would love to have a menagerie in the house, but right now, our three dogs are more than enough. Mari-Ela, a family friend and basically my cuz, has to give up her rabbit. She never named her, but always called her "booger". She was gonna drop her off at the shelter, if no one took her in. She posted on Friendster. The reason she had to give her up is because she's moving to Madison, Wisconsin to take an anchor/reporter job at the ABC affiliate. Wow! Good for her. She's very pretty and well-spoken. It's probably gonna be hard for her because her bf, another family friend and practical cow-sin of mine, lives in LA. It was sorta gross when I found out they were going out with one another because we all grew up together since we were 7 years old. To make a long story short, my co-worker, Ket has been looking for a rabbit, and tada! It's kismic. Then, I dropped by my mom and pop's house. They fed me turbo chicken (chicken cooked in a turbo convection oven; I grew up on that shit), and I dropped off some blank CD's that my mom was asking for.

Saturday morning, I drive little punkass MB to his Grandma's house. He was actually very polite and obedient, which I was very thankful for. Then I go directly to my other job, because I'm in charge of staffing a booth at this Festival in Berkeley. No shower, no change of clothes since Friday morning. I know, it's friggin' nasty, but I don't care. The festival was cool. Very mellow vibe because it was a Watershed Festival of Poetry. So it drew a bunch of fellow tree-huggers, hippies, and poets. In fact, one of my favorite poets, Larry Ferlinghetti, was there and recited a poem about Watershed people. For those of you who don't hug redwoods, a watershed is a region where water "sheds" off the land and goes into creeks, then the bay, and into the ocean. We are all connected through our watersheds, and it's important that we keep them healthy, clean, and vibrant. Ferlinghetti was a contemporary of Jack Kerouac, Allen Ginsberg, and beatniks of the 50's and 60's. He also owns and runs CityLights bookstore in North Beach, which is a historical landmark. There were also some modern interpretive dances, which gave me a chuckle or two. Some of that hippie shit is funny as hell. The best poem of the day, in my estimation, was one written by a young nine-year old poet named Allen Qui. He said it so gracefully that the organizer of the event, Robert Hass, asked him to read it again. Here it is:

The Woods are Ancient by Alan Qui

The Woods are ancient relics of the past
Mist blankets the Redwoods to the last

I wonder what the mighty ones once did see
Gold miners? Dinosaurs? The Cherokee?

The mist is cold and damp on my hand
Birds sing, a fox peeps

One thins is sure though as ferns do rustle
The forest never sleeps

Later on, the same kid went to our booth and looked for terrestrial invertebrates in our worm compost bin. Then he petted booger for a godd ten minutes. Booger liked all the attention. He also liked just romping around the grass near our table. I was surprised that she did not run away. Other rabiit-lovers came by and said the same thing. Even though I had her for only a day, I guess she's already attached to me.

I started hitting the wall at around 2pm. I hadn't slept since Thursday night, so sitting around, watching hippies dance and do yoga started to become taxing. If it wasn't for the constant stream of kids around the compost bin and playing with booger (no, not their own boogers...the rabbit, dork), I would have passed out right then and there. Luckily, Sheela and Tony came by and brought their chihuahuas, Xoichi and Lolita. They had never seen a rabbit before, so they were very curious. The rabbit was bigger than either one of them! They also watched the booth while I got the truck, so I could break down the booth.

So I go home at around 7pm, and I just found out that the Oakland A's lost their bid for the playoffs, and the Giants are hanging on by a thread. That sucks. I play with the dogs for a bit, and then I go right to sleep. 10pm rolls around, and it's time to go to work....again. Finally, I come in to work, and there are no kids in the Quiet Room! Yippee!!!! Watched the season premiere of Saturday Night Live. Ben Affleck is hosting, and his self-deprecating humor is getting a little old. He's not that good of an actor, but he can definitely make fun of himself. His James Carville bit and Alec Baldwin's guess appearance was pretty funny though. I remember a skit he once did way back when that show on Fox was popular, "Who wants to marry a millionaire?" In this new show titled "Who wants to make out with a dude in the back of an old Chevy?" or something to that effect, Ben Affleck was the dude in the Chevy, and unwitting male audience members were the contestants. Everytime a contestant got an answer to a trivia question wrong, they would be one step closer to having to get in this beat-up old Chevy and having to make out with BA, who was dressed up in tattered flannel, sporting missing teeth, and an "I love Mom" tattoo. BA was hamming it up, too...."Yahoo! Boy, you're mouth sure does look pretty." An obvious homage to the movie, Deliverance.

So here I am now, writing in my blog at 5 in the morning, and waiting for the sun to come up. I'll be driving buttplug MB to his church again later in the morning, going to Jo's mom and dad's house to help with the garage sale, and eventually going to dreamland once everything's done and everyone's satisfied.