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  • Inorganic Slang

    Sometimes slang is fun. Generally, it has to arise organically; but sometimes, when you have a cool idea for something, you just force it. That's what I'm doing here. Below are a few propositions for new additions to your idiolect. They're already a part of mine!

    1. "The 'Plex." I'm from the Dallas-Fort Worth area, as are literally millions of other people. But that's cumbersome to day. It's often shortened to "DFW,"--like the airport. Because it's two, distinct cities, you can't really say you're from Dallas if you're from Fort Worth. Similarly, people who live in Grapevine are just as far from Dallas as they are from Fort Worth. And, people from Grand Prairie, Arlington, Irving, and Plano--all respectable cities in their own right don't like to be lumped into either Dallas, Fort Worth, or DFW. For these reasons, I propose that we call the mass of humanity in North Central Texas "The Plex." It short. It's descriptive. It has its origins in referring to the area as "The Metroplex," but it sounds a lot trendier. I hope it catches on.

    2. "Hasta Masta'." There is a danger in creating slang for a language that is not your own. But, I have been speaking Spanish relatively well for eight years now. I feel like I'm allowed. Plus, it's not really novel--it's just an abbreviation of the longer phrase: "hasta mas tarde," which means "see you later!" Plus, this shortened version rhymes, which is fun.

    3. "Gracisimas." It's a way to say "Thanks a lot" with a Latin flair. "Gracias" is the general word for "thanks," but I added the "'-isim@" ending, which really is only for adjectives. When it's added, it turns the adjective almost into a superlative. For example, "mucho" to "muchisimo" are "a lot" and "the most!" respectively.

    4. "Crazy cakes." I've not been using this one as much I used to use it...it may be outmoded now. For a while, though, I thought it might catch on. I remember saying it once--I don't remember if it's something I picked up or something I invented. After I started using it, I heard it on a TV show...it. was. AWESOME. What I like most is the idea of an insane dessert is pleasant...even if slightly absurd.

    Now...to use them all together. Pretend that A and B are having a telephone conversation.

    A: Hello

    B: Hey, I was wondering, can I get a ride into the 'Plex this weekend?

    A: Sure. I thought your sister was taking you. Is everything alright?

    B: Yeah...except that she went crazy cakes on me after she caught her boyfriend wearing her underwear. She's not good for anything lately.

    A: That's a super bummer. Listen, I gotta get...I just now realized that I have to use the bathroom.

    B: Alright, that's cool. I'll talk to you later. Gracisimas for the ride, though.

    A: No problem. Hasta masta'.

    [clicks]

    Do you think you could work these into your conversations? I'd love to hear how it.

  • Which is better...

    To be friends with someone who doesn't judge

    OR to be friends with someone who isn't afraid to judge, but will still be your friend when you do terrible (i.e., judgment-worthy) things?

    I think I prefer the latter. I sometimes do things that are NOT okay, and I respect those who: 1. know when actions are wrong/inappropriate"; 2. confront me about it; and 3. will hold me accountable for the consequences. In most cases I think a prefer a friend who makes me be a better person--and doesn't let me get away with being less than a great version of me.

    I think that if I ever murdered someone, I would rather have the friend who would turn me in and still visit me in prison, rather than the one who helps me escape from "the law" (and whom I would probably never see again).

    Maybe this isn't really what I want to post. Maybe, what I want to post is:

    GUN TO YOUR HEAD: In less than 100 words, explain what "don't judge me" means.

    I may just be a little confused about what people mean when they say, "don't judge me."

  • On Being Classy

    This weekend, I went to my dad's cousin's wedding (which is my first cousin once removed, right?) in Baton Rouge. The wedding was a good reflection of the couple and who they are. I think everyone who attended generally enjoyed it.

    My (first) cousin (once removed) and the girl he married are both in fairly official, moderately high-profile positions in the government. In planning, they had done a good job of making sure that everything was in good taste--I'm sure a consequence of the make-no-waves mentality their jobs require. The ceremony was in the front yard of a large, neo-antebellum-style plantation house (not built until the 1990s, so no actual slave history). The bride wore a very simple, but elegant gown (it looked nice without being showy or decadent). The bridesmaids wore navy dresses, the groomsmen gray suits (subdued colors that aren't daring, but always look nice). The reception featured a live band (orchestra?) playing Rat Pack and big band songs, with a few Elvis hits here and there (all song in a clear tenor). The food was all professionally prepared and delicious.

    All in all, the wedding was very tasteful and classy. But, it was so classy that it verged on being boring.

    I've thought about what it means to "be classy" or to "have class." My working definition is that someone 'is classy" or "has class" if: (1) s/he appears comfortable or at ease in any social situation; and (2) demonstrates poise, graciousness, respect, and self-control in the face of anti-social or inappropriate behavior. I think that captures the heart of it with respect to people. With respect to events, though, defining "classiness" is a more difficult task.

    StayClassy

     What makes a person classy is the ability or willpower to not make things worse when things go bad. It's an anti-drama characteristic. That idea is harder to translate to an event. I think that what makes an event classy is whether the people who attended had a good time, will remember it, and are glad that they went. At a classy affair, the circumstances don't inflict any undue drama; and if there is a "situation," it is handled quickly and quietly. All in all...kind of lame.

    Maybe events shouldn't be TOO classy. When you feel like you can't really mess up or are too afraid to do the wrong thing, things get a little stifled.

    One of my favorite lines in a rap song is by Rasheeda in "My Bubble Gum." The line goes: "Classy, but getting nazzty at the same time." I don't know if that's actually the way to spell "nasty," but it seems to fit. I think Rasheeda's delightfully contradictory juxtaposition is the essence of the difference between a good party/event and a GREAT party or event. It needs to be by all objective standards "classy," but provide a structure for the people who atttend to get (just a teeny-tiny bit) nasty at the same time.

    As an illustration: the best part of the wedding (in my mind) was my grandmother's comment to one of my first cousins twice removed. The cousin was wearing a long, blingy pair of pendant earrings. After complimenting them, my grandmother said, "If I tried to wear those, they'd be sitting on my tits." I AM NOT PARAPHRASING. That's my little Granny. What it made it so awesome was that it was an off-color thing to say in a "posh" setting. Plus, it was my grandmother...and there were witnesses! So, it was perfect on many levels.

    So even though the music was very pleasant, I could have enjoyed it more. Maybe it's just me...but, sometimes I need some booty-shaking tunes. For me, your reception doesn't count if  you don't play "Push It" and "Hey Ya" AND there some drunk foible. That could have taken this perfectly pleasant wedding to a whole. other. level.

    How "classy" was the best wedding you've ever attended? If really classy, did you enjoy it anyway?

  • Safe Mode

    Sometimes when my computer freezes and I have to hard reboot it, I get the option to start it "Safe Mode." Basically, (as I'm sure most of you know) safe mode lets the computer start with only the essential parts running. When malware or corrupted files or poorly formatted software hinder your computer's performance, starting it up in safe mode kind of chokes off the nuisances. Safe mode keeps extraneous programs and features from engaging so that the computer will work--and be subject to the junk that disrupts it.

    I want to live in safe mode.

    It would be nice, sometimes, to turn off all the little "extras" that make unpleasant at times. I'm sure it would mean limited functionality. I'm also sure that I wouldn't mind. It's all the extra functions in life that stress me the most: social pressures, others' expectations, inner tensions about ambitions, social situations, etc. For me, these stressors--some internal and some external--are the source of disquietude. From them, the unfortunate effects of malware and defects flow, coloring my life an icky shade of defunct.

    I would gladly give them up if I thought that they would make life a little less troublesome. Yet, there's the rub.

    There's an elegance in the notion of a simple life. The hard part about it is giving up the things that we think we need. Discerning the difference is key...and nearly impossible. If only we had the option every morning to determine which systems we would have to use that day! If only...

    I keep trying to find the button on me that turns off everything except what is absolutely essential, what I need to keep going, the bare minimum of systems that I need to employ. That button is not my belly button, it's not behind my ears, nor is it pulling any particular sequence of toes. I've concluded that if such a button exists, it's not externally accessible.It must be inside...somewhere.

    What would you shed if you could start in "safe mode"?

  • Up and Up: Count Your Blessings

    Although I typically do most of my whining here, there have been some positive developments lately that are worth sharing. They're not big by individually; but taken together, they have a very positive effect.

    1. I was successful in finding a roommate. So far, things seem to be going well. He's not around a whole lot, so I can't complain. So, I can look forward to an overall reduction in my utilities cost, which will be nice. It's always good to save where you can.

    2. There was leftover cake at school AND there was a taco truck--Lola Loca--on my walk back home. Let's just say I had a DELICIOUS "taco'dilla." It looked basically like a slightly larger, semi-crispy taco. It was good, though. THEN, when I got home, there was pecan pie. Today wasn't about good food choices, but it was still good.

    3. I was selected to be part of a pro-bono volunteer team for spring break. While it's to Corpus like I wanted, there was some space in another team under the auspices of the same group that's conducting the first team. The best part about this (you know aside from helping those who really need it, contributing to society and all that), is that it will be an excellent addition to my resume. It's rather weak right now.

    4. I found a partner for Practice Court. Since I have a partner now, I'm not as torn about taking it next quarter (otherwise I'd have to wait until the fall and I couldn't graduate until Spring 2014). If everything goes according to plan, I should be able to graduate about November of this year, which while still 10 months away, is quickly approaching!

    5. The shuttles have started running again so I don't have to walk all the way to school in the morning.

    6. I have a triple session of individual tax tomorrow--but there will be brownies or cupcakes or something delicious. If you have to talk about tax deductions and disallowances, you might as well have a brownie, right?

    7. I've made some progress toward eating more healthily. It's mostly in the realm of substitutions. I've discovered that I can replace sour cream and ice cream with yogurt for most things, which takes off a little in the way of fat and calories. I've also been eating cabbage: it's versatility is rivaled only by is affordability!

    8. My new food processor, vacuum cleaner, and mattress topper work well. It's really nice when things just do what they're supposed to do.

    9. I applied for an internship at the WTO. It seems a little weird that I applied, and the chance of getting it is really low. Still, I'm glad that I did it. I speak all the languages they want; I'm still a student; it would look killer on a resume--especially if I want to do international transactional stuff. There's a per diem reimbursement--which is especially great if I can stay with my sister for the duration of the internship and just pocket the money.

    I think that's enough for now. What little things are you glad for today?

  • Procrasti-cooking

    Sometimes, when I know I should be doing my homework, I cook instead. There's something about chopping, dicing, searing, boiling, steaming, or roasting that is very satisfying. It's probably because all these things are terribly VIOLENT. Yet, they make everything so tasty. It's probably the stress relief.

    It's in these I-really-should-be-doing-something-else moments that I feel the most adventuresome and creative. A couple days ago, for instance, I made a stir fry out of some leftover lemon-lime soda and corn starch. It was pretty good! It was also in this mentality that I added a little honey to my chicken tortilla soup, which, while not bad, is not something that I'll do again. Also, yesterday I think I made hummus the way I (basically) will the rest of my life. So, that's an accomplishment...even if I don't quite understand the marital deduction vis-a-vis community property and partitions by operation of law.

    But of all the activities one can undertake to procrastinate, why all the food prep? Why not something more exciting? I think the answer to that question is twofold: 1. I'm not exciting. (But what I eat sure can be!) 2. At some point I'll have to eat, so it's not a complete waste of time.

    Anyway, I have a lot of taxing homework to get done (it's funny because I'm in three 1/2 tax or impost classes currently). However, I find myself overcome with the urge to perfect arrabbiata sauce. Hmmm...what to do.

  • Friday Night Bust

    Last night...was Friday. (gasps!)

    Typically on Friday nights there are certain things I like to do. Primarily, I like to clean the floors (mop if necessary), vacuum the stairs, and iron my clothes. Since at Christmas I got a fancy new vacuum (that is WAY more sophisticated than I am), and a garment steamer, these tasks combined took about an hour--basically, I was done by 6:00.

    At that time, though, I just felt tired and wanted to take a nap. I knew that if I did, I would wake up about 2:00 AM and not be able to go back to sleep until 7 AM or so, which didn't sound appealing. Instead, I ran to the grocery store to get some stuff to make chicken tortilla soup...and some soda for the caffeine rush.

    After I put the groceries away and start throwing back the soda, it's only 7:30 PM. Dammit. There's nothing left to do BUT go out.

    I always have mixed feelings about going out. There are two bars that are close to where I live--and I like neither of them. The first is more of a pub that serves only beer--no hard liquor. The problem is that I don't like beer and I like drinks with hard liquor. The other one is just gross--I always come home smelling like cigarette smoke, the floors are nasty, there's never adequate hand-washing soap in the restroom yada, yada, yada. But, they do serve hard liquor (so I can get my marg on).

    I got dressed--I put on some new clothes and even my new bow tie! I was torn, however, about whether I should wear a hat. I decided against it. Last night was unseasonably warm and I already felt like I was wearing too  many layers.

    I got amped--I created a playlist on YouTube of my presently favorite jams: "Hasta que salga el sol," "No sigue modas," "Dance Again," "I Like How it Feels," and some others...Now I understand why YouTube thinks I'm Hispanic...Those J@mZ always get me in a good mood.

    Finally--about 10 I strolled across the street to the gross bar. There were only about a dozen people there...it was lame. I walked home. Because the party doesn't really start there until about 12:00, I decided to try again about 11:30.

    So, 11:30 rolls around...my caffeine rush has worn off. I decide just to go to my room and go to bed. I spent the remainder of the evening "winding down" listening to jam list. There may have been some dancing--but I will confess to nothing! And then...the 1:30 AM call.

    "Hey, TREY!!! Where ARE you?"

    "I'm at home."

    "Why aren't you at SAM'S?"

    "Wow...it's really loud there....Because it's 1:00 AM and I'm already in my jammies...and I have no way to get there." Side note: if I'm at home, the probability is about 80% that I'm in my jammies.

    ["WAIT...don't you have a car?"

    "Yes, but not with me right now."

    "Well...ok...if you ever need a ride, just let me know."]

    "Ok...enjoy your Sam's"

    "WHAT?! I didn't hear you....It's really loud here.

    "I said: 'Enjoy your Sam's"

    "Okay...(chortles)...Bye."

    The question that preoccupies my mind: when did I become a huge lame-o? The better question is probably: when did it start bothering me that I am a huge lame-o.

    Did you have an epic Friday night?

  • iBumble: Xangacide

    It's not Apple's latest product...it's just how I would describe the way I go about my life: I Bumble.

    The other day, I decided to go to the grocery store. It's only a block away and I normally walk. This time, however, my purchases were much more than my usual tote bag could carry. My grocery bag tore open while I was walking back from the grocery store...and all my cans of chicken stock fell to the ground. The ground was actually a road because I was crossing the street at the time. I tried to scoop the fallen cans and place them in the already-overloaded tote...but they fell out as soon as I took the next time. And by that time, the tote bag had shifted and was digging painfully into my skin. I had to leave the stock. I made it home, put away my other groceries, and then return to the side of the road to collect them. It was a little embarrassing...and more than a little clumsy.

    Stumbling and bumbling around is a common theme in my life. I'm aware that I maladroitly navigate most human-interactive channels....and apparently the car-traveling channels as well! At times it's frustrating, most of the time it's endearing. But it's always part of who I am. Pero, no me aguito por eso, c'est la vie.

    In fact, this "bumbleness" was an unfortunate characteristic of my Xangacide. I didn't go about it the best way possible. And in the process, I may have worried some Xanga users and alienated others. There's been a brief buzz about closing Xanga accounts of late; and since I have gone through one, I thought that I'd opine on the subject.So, what follows is first a brief history of my Xanga experience which concludes with some final remarks about Xangacide that I wish I had known earlier.

    First, a public confession: I used to be yertmax6680. Really, that means nothing now. I shut down my account in 2009 after having used it for a little more than four years. Under that user name, I found a corner of Xanga where I enjoyed interacting with certain Xangans and I really enjoyed the exposure to all the different kinds of people I was "meeting" there.

    Xanga in 2009 was a slightly different place than it is now: the -ish sites were the frequent source of much controversy (should they exist, they're bullying out the good writers, etc.); meet-ups weren't as commonplace an event; and of course, the Xanga "royalty" was a little different...Although, as I'm sure y'all are all (it's okay, I can say things like "y'all are all" and "all y'all"--I'm from Texas) aware, there are some long-enduring dynasties.

    In March of 2009 I was in personal crisis. I was about to undertake my second collegiate transfer in less than a year. I was TERRIBLE at being a college student. I had no idea what I wanted (that one's still not worked all the way out) and I felt tremendous pressure to hit every reset button in my life that I could. I was worried that if I kept my Xanga around, the weightiness of the ghosts I harbored here was only harmful. So, one day, I killed my Xanga. I say "kill" because it was a little more impulsive than a simple "shut down" suggests.

    I was away from Xanga for about a year. In that time, I like to say that there was a radical transformation and that I accomplished everything that I hoped to in being away. That's not quite the case. There were some personal victories, but that certain wasn't the dominant theme of that period. All in all, I quickly discovered that, while the shut down was necessary, I still missed Xanga a little...there's a layer of community here that I can't/don't/won't access IRL.

    I restarted a Xanga account in early 2010 under this username. Since then, I've rediscovered some of the Xangans I really enjoyed following before. Some of them stopped blogging. Others changed usernames. Some changed blogging platforms. But, I found that I was able to rebuild a little of what I missed. That also felt like an accomplishment.

    So, now, the part where I sound like d-bag for telling you how to operate your blog. I tried to keep it short.

    1. Be decisive. The decision about whether to continue operating your Xanga is strictly yours. No one else can tell you whether it's good for you right now, whether you'll miss all the memories you've worked at creating here, or whether you're just at a point in your life where you need a fresh start. This isn't the type of topic that becomes clearer through a public blog and comment. If you really don't know...you know.

    2. Let others know. I found that one of the worst things you can do is to simply drop off the face of Xanga. It can make people worry--and no one deserves that. My recommendation is to post a final entry that gives notice to your readers and explains why you think it's good for you. Be emphatic, but let the entry linger for a while--maybe a week or two. This gives other the chance to bid you adieu.

    3. Save important entries! Even though killing my Xanga was probably the best thing I could have done, it still bums me out sometimes that I effectively erased four years--and probably four of the most formative years--of my life (from 16-20 years old). For me, there were some things that REALLY needed to disappear. Other things though were just funny and probably the purest expression of my sense of humor...now, those are lost.

    4. Leave contact information. If you've established a particularly strong rapport with certain Xangans, message them your e-mail address so they can interact with you if something particularly interesting or pressing comes up that might concern you. Just because you're leaving Xanga doesn't mean you're leaving behind the people and relationships you made here.

    5. Set a plan for return. Let's face it, there is something inexplicably delightful about the Xangasphere. That's why we're all here. So, if you need a time to make a new start, work through some issues, or just to clear something off your plate for a while, be clear about the WHY so that when that particular "why" passes, you'll be able to come back to where all of us weirdos have a voice that other people listen to. My suggestion is to set a clear goal. For example, "When X happens," or "When I am Y," or "When I no longer have deal with/worry about Z, I will return to Xanga."

    So, those are my thoughts on shutting down an account/Xangacide. I hope they were helpful and not too pedantic. Have you ever shut down a Xanga account? Would you do it again? differently?

  • "Walking gets too boring when you learn how to fly."

    Slowly, softly, deliberately, I watched my feet march myself one step at a time closer to school today. I was not looking forward to it. There is so much about school that makes me want to run away--screaming madly all the while. It's not what I'm learning, it's not even the workload (although, I'm sure that's part of it)...it's more about who I see on a daily basis and how I can't dump the crazy awkward things that I've done. It bums me out.

    Naturally, these matters preoccupied my mind. Sometimes my thoughts strayed, other times I was able to redirect them to the case that I might have presented for Constitutional Law. By and large, though, I was concerned about the re-remembering just how bizarre I am...and how I feel like I never fit anywhere. In effect, I was pre-remembering the things I would certainly re-remember in just a few minutes. The thing is, 90% (or more) of it is me/my fault/me holding myself back. Still, realizing that doesn't make anything more pleasant.

    In a lot of ways, law school is WAY more like high school than high school ever was for me. There's pressure to deal with stuff and people on a repeated basis--I  can't just walk away from it. My high school was big. I could very easily slip into a veil of anonymity and disappear. Now, the student body is roughly half the size of my graduating class. At the beginning, I made a conscious effort to be gregarious and meet people. But, that's not who I am, and I eventually yearned for the obscurity that I enjoyed in high school. Back then, it was like I had a superpower; I could be invisible. I miss that. Now, however, people know (both of) my name(s) and there is no innocuous anonymity--it's much more likely that people know me for a reputation, whether good, bad, or awkward, whether it's a firsthand or secondhand experience. I thought I had left all that angsty teen drama stuff in the past. I was wrong...unless I am stuck in the past, a possibility I can't rule out.

    The quotation that I've used is as the title is one of my favorite song lyrics, from my favorite musician. What I love about it is how true it is. I'm confident that if I ever learned to fly, my feet would rarely touch the ground. It makes me wonder if my otherwise pedestrian thoughts would become ...Said differently, how would my mind's morning journey change if I flew to school instead of walked.

    For one thing, the trip would be shorter. Not only would I be able to take a more-direct route, but flying is also simply faster than walking. There would be less time to think. I think this might be a good thing.

    For another thing, I would be able to get more easily distracted because of the greater field of vision. Where trees had blocked my views before, I can see around them, seeing the grid work of the city's plan and the tidy, classical layouts of the buildings on their lots across the university. That's when I think I'd notice a real change in the way I see things. I imagine that I could get above my situation. Just as flying gives me a broader view of what surrounds me, I think that sense of aerial perspective would permeate into my contemplation of myself and circumstances. I'd pretend to be far above me to get a superior view of what's going on.

    Finally, I think I'd feel freer and untouchable. When you can fly, it's harder to lock you in. That would be an awesome feeling.

    So, even though I can't actually take to the air (despite my best efforts--I just can't seem to get feathers to sprout from my scapulae), I will pretend to soar on the trek to school tomorrow. Maybe the thought exercise will make time fly--even if I can't.

  • Compare and Contrast: Flamenco

    While I was in Spain this summer, I had the chance to visit Sevilla for like a day and half. It was a jam-packed two days, but I managed to get in everything I wanted to do there (except the bull fight!). The highlight, though, was seeing a flamenco show one evening.

    After my final exam at the end of the last quarter, I was looking for something special to do to in order to: 1. celebrate the end of the quarter and 2. reward myself for getting through finals. Because I live in Waco, there was nothing going on. But! After a brief check around the intarwebz, I saw that there was a flamenco show in Austin, which is less than a two-hour drive. I arrived just in time to see the show. You can read about the adventures of that evening here.

    I meant to do this blog WAY earlier (the second show was at the beginning of November), but never got around to it...Better late than never, right?

    Clearly, because these were both flamenco shows, they had many similar elements. The ladies wore the same kind of ruffled dresses, the shows lasted about the same period of time, and the heel click of the shoe on the elevated stage was as much a part of the music as the guitar, an element which I loved. In both shows, the musicians were just as important to the performance as the dancers. Flamenco deals in a certain kind of muscic, often called "sevillanas," named for a city in southern Spain which is the cultural and historical capital of the area. Because of the integration of all these different musical and rhythmic components, flamenco seems to be the most "alive" form of music. I love that.

    However, in the distance between Spain and Texas, there is apparently significant room for differentiation. The Spanish show was much richer--the performers exposed the audience to a broader range of experiences. In the Spanish show, there were both male and female dancers. There was even an old lady who stepped forcefully across the stage. There was a constant flow and change among the musicians. There were different lead singers throughout the evening, and the members of the "band" would sing out at different times as well. In fact, when some of the dancers weren't dancing, they would stand with the musicians at the back of the stage and clap along with either the music or the acoustic finesse of the dancer on stage. There was more packed into the Spanish show.

    Another key difference was the use of castanets. The Austin show did not use them, and I think the show was a little impotent for it. By contrast, the Sevillian show featured dancers that click-click-clacked their castanets in expert staccato, adding an aural texture that complemented the melodic sounds of the guitar. Since seeing that show, I think that castanets make just about every song better. In fact, they are featured in this pop song by Pualina Rubio (it's all in English, even though she's Mexican).

    While I enjoyed both shows, I would be had pressed to say that I enjoyed the local show more. I watched the other one in SPAIN, where the art originated, as performed by people who had been doing this their whole lives. Of course, all that was reflected in the price: I paid 40 euros for admission to the Spanish show. The bar where the Austin show was had a $15 cover. But, by the time I made the drive, the cost of gas probably made the price both shows about equal. What I really gained from the experiences, though, were two enjoyable evening watching experts at a craft perform very well. It's a good thing.

    Have you ever seen a flamenco or specialty/folk dancing show? What did you enjoy most about it?