is back.. i saw her do the last show at the beehive years ago. Off the Hizzy.

been a real fucked up set of weeks. i've got opinions i cannot share, but would make great book material years down the road. i had tried to check out the dojo @ work. it was wack. two big sweaty older guys and one young 18 year old in a fresh, oversized "gi." I removed my shoes, bowed on entering the training area, and asked to speak to the instructor... that was after like a long minute or two where those guys were too busy dragging mats out to prepare for class. no etiquette. Told me the instructor would be arriving soon.

If anything, you can be a suck ass martial artist, but at minimum, etiquette is vital. Introduce yourself, bowing, it shows an amount of consideration to detail, consideration of your training partners, and consideration for the tradition of the art you are practicing. I cannot imagine what an elder in the art would think of these guys finding more time to drag mats out and arrange them on the floor than they are to speak to a prospective training partner. disgusting. and while i'm not billy bad ass in the art, it speaks very poorly of the teacher if this is indicative of the students he has under his wing.senseis are ultimately responsible for everything that happens in a dojo, mentality and approach aside. so, all my weeks of waiting were a waste. i looked forward to training again, but throw that on the rocks.


so, time to find a new art. kendo? kyudo? aikijutsu? hmmm judo? Not sure how much my body can take, but still. i liked the way the training settled my mind, even in amongst the malestrom that was my world, in and out of the dojo

==

job is one set of challenges after another. i like it. though higher stress and more money == getting fat. well fat for me is being 160, with no clear explanation where the fat is. It should be mostly around my belly. when i chink of fat, i think of 5 pound sugar bags. my normal weight is 147. so, about 3 bags of sugars split open and spread around my body in strange areas and proportions. fucking disgrace. other ppl tell me that 160 is ok for my frame. i know, but i feel i could do better with it. start yoga, find a martial art, be more active, less excuses, whole nine.


my mind is drifting. i've become amorous in fits and starts. given my mostly vegetarian status, i'm more sensitive in my moods and to scents. hanging out in bars, talking to women, might explain alot. could also be what men do when things are fucked in their lives. always trying to bury their problems in the reptilian brain. i like being reptilian.


when i think about it, i've spent the majority of my life sitting at a desk in one form or another. other primates are out, eating, fucking, picking fake termites out of their friends hair. it is like we spend our world imagining what productive and thoughtful creatures men are. i have a feeling maybe my mind has burned enough energy being intellectual and that i am now flipping my cancerian nature for more dionysian pursuits, wine, women, song, dance. i thought i was getting stupid, going through a phase, and that eventually things would return to "normalcy" in time or with a couple of "wins" in my world. new job, motorcycle, dates, etc. ..No, i think maybe i am finished with the intellectual world, but not finished with intellectualism. i wanted to be "the best." i was so jealous, so hungry. am i less hungry? no. just hungry for more things. i watch the elderly strutting around, withered, fat, dreadful. i don't want to be that person, though i have little choice in the matter. i want to live in the now, and commit to the now.


i want my mind aflame. kind of like when you visit a new city and everything is fresh, unknown. you go for whatever it is, since you got no choice. jump on the bus, call that person, protect your place in line. go go go.... because no one is going to do nothing for you. you have a bite to you. in pgh, you get smaller... and it cannot be helped. i realized that unless i find someone of like mind and body, i will have to make modifications in my interactions, often unseemly, if you want to talk to anybody. talk about the stillers, reduce convo topics, avoid the big words......mmmmmm... nah... think i won't do that. i cannot take the easy out.... but given that, i'll find that maintaining my standards will mean the circles i drift in are distinct...

for example, hit the warhol last night. another "date night." i am officially the only black person who listens to "Velvet Underground" cover bands. No, the only black person. Weird though, i did not think anything of it. Yeah, stares, etc. etc. whatever. i think it was good for me. no matter what i do, i'm always an outsider, so i say fuck it. embrace it, do whatever is in your mind. i think alot of ppl might not have gone since they would literally say to themselves. "gee, i don't belong here." as if you owed anything to anybody else. you paid your money, just go on in. dunno. i think i may be fucking with ppl's brains and expectations, all unwittingly. nothing wrong with belonging in any place but where you are.


even when it came to a "black" crowd. went to global beats in shadow lounge. my body language, seemed to work, girl came up started talking to me. congolese girl. told her i liked soukous. she lost her breath in shock. told her i think nigerians have that post-colonia revenge fetish that makes them say they know everythnig........woman initiating convo...that is the *best* thing, when a woman initiates, so much easier. it takes balls, you got me right there. then.. her 250 pound, 6'5" boyfriend walks over to us and hovers. He's chromed out. Belt buckles, chains, wristbands, rings, glitter, diamonds. think he had a belt buckle with a shining skull and shit. maybe his name was Babatunde Crystal Olembe or something. peacocking to the MAXXX! he didn't say much, i think he just grunted, put a hand on his hat to adjust, and grabbed his south african stolen diamond belt. weird body language, as if he was both trying to intimidate me a but also just stand there...... so everyone knows.... that this is his woman. primordially lame. then again, i'll give him BOTD, since it is likely how thing works. it may simply be patterns of interaction i don't understand culturally... to the point, it may be expected, by the girl, that he stands there. mmmmmm



the girl introduced us. he did say nothing i could hear over the music. girl seemed cool. introduced me, told me about the global beats night. i was not sweating it. she got up to talk with him a little afterwards.... meh. guess he went to take her outside and cuss her out, blah blah. next night i came, she did not speak to me as before, though i did say high later on in teh evening. bf of hers was up on stage, helping dj.. and glaring out over the bar to check on his woman.


weird though. african music, actual africans, very bad dancing. or little dancing at all. alot of standing around. posing. look at me, look at what i got. i got on the floor later, showed them how its done. got a bit of attention. still. i guess it is very territorial vibe out there. it was my fave music though, they had jb mpiana blowing out on the wall above the bartender.





it should have been an amazing night, especially for music i don't hear *ever* in this city outside my apartment. but it turned into "meh." kind of disappointed in the girl. not that i was super super interested, but if you got to play around and be less of yourself because your rhinoceroses boyfriend gets jealous and wants to stake his claim, then you are stupid and small. but, dating anyone regularly usually involves a certain amount of being sprayed in male/female funk and having those weird mind games being played upon you... (if you are conventional)... probably told her about he didn't appreciate her disrespecting him, how he was disappointed in her, and did she really care about him. if you make it an identity crisis for a woman, you can keep her around apparently. how long will it last? as long as she wants it to. meh.

==

speaking of my love life. actually kind of had a date last weekend. met a pitt prof on the website whose name will not be spoken of openly. i was eating dinner, she dropped in for coffee after i ate. friendly, but not really matching my energies. another woman from the website whose name will not be spoken of openly. gives birth to babies @ local hospital. she cannot wrap around her head the idea that pittsburghers can be bigoted but will *always* cheer for the Stillers. I told her it is just weird like that here. She tried to draw parallels to her hometown. All the staff members are black, but all the managers are white.. she was saying that prejudiced ppl were ok with Stiller cheering so long as it was a black man "working" for them. I disagreed. i said ppl here bleed black and gold. It is serious business, and usually athletes get respect and acceptance, since they are perceived as having "earned their place." she just didn't get it. that, talking to me on speakerphone + backing out on a sunday dinner date...meh.. thought she was a contender for the butter love I be giving. she is not worthy.

Up in coffee house watching the new guy get cussed out by the owners. mwhahahah.. do not burn the skim milk and listen to what the boss says. easy rules, yeah yeah, you are from NYC, just STFU for five minutes. he is young, so give him a pass. Working for people is hard to do.

==

160 pounds.. where the hell is all this? My legs? More tea, flush the weight out quickly. WTF! I keep doing the special k pinch an inch. that is probably bullshite. think i will grab a bite and turn in early.. once i figure out how to get out of Sq. Hill via bus. funny.. i do ghetto stuff in the coffeehouse. hide my laptop, so no passerby crackfiends walk past and see the Apple icon blaziing through the window with not a soul nearby sitting near it. yes, it can happen to you! But will not happen to the Don Dadda... never never never.


==
Power outages suck. had to move around at work to all kinds of random places to find a place to work. went to one room with ppl.. looked like the Star Chamber, all scary, full of furrow-browed ppl. realize, i really do like having an office to myself. alot. i should do something different in the coming years. tons of money, and being left to my own devices... or marry rich, kerry/mcain style. like them old, with botox to spare.

met a cool guy. says he wants to read pound. i warned him, rather unconvincingly. he does art exhibits where it allows the spectator to see freaky after-images. whatever you want. one person saw skulls, another birds. what would i see out of that, i wonder... time to go home and play rock band. i like david bowie... i can't sing for shit. but i like "We can Be Heroes" alot. .....