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in my dreams...

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it's a reaccuring dream,
about a girl, she was my world...
however big one's world could be at 13.

we fell in love playing basketball,
we fell in love hanging out after school...
i did anyway.

i loved her before i even knew what love was.
i still do.

i know what you're thinking. it's just a memory, a thought, that i love. ...yeah... but it's more too.

it's not just a static memory, but a living one. i replay it. reaccess. re-evaluate. if ever i feel that way again, i will never let it go... i hope.

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man= a conundrum, a self aware paradox

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how can he love so deeply and walk away? did he ever love at all?

was i too young, was i too dumb? do i doubt myself and give in to dispair, or do trust in trust?

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Stuck in dead end job? Tired & bored? Overworked & underpaid?

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Have no fear; you can now enjoy the wonderful rants of

Calcifer’s House of Cards

@

http://cmonkeyrant.blogspot.com/

Why another blog you ask? Click on the link to discover the hidden answers yourself. I must warn you though; Calcifer’s House of Cards is not for the faint of heart. It is 100% unfiltered, unadulterated, saying it like it is, calling you out, balls to the walls fun! Don’t even consider clicking onto the link if you’re squeamish! Just don’t do that to yourself, trust me.

It’s the old adage: you’re better off not knowing; ignorance is bliss.

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“I’m not a businessman…

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At the bank today, Lily asked me how my weekend was.  “Good!” I replied with a smirk.  Standing there it dawned on me that bank tellers, esp. in more specialized banks, deal with a small list of clientele.  Yeah it helps that I come in almost everyday around the same time: networking 101 take note.

I managed a follow up question, “How was your weekend?” 

Her reply, “Good so far.”  This struck me as an odd reply to a question about a time that had already past.  I mean in all respects, Lily was at work, it’s a Tuesday, and she’s definitely not intoxicated for the weekend to still be going good so far.  I figured she must have misheard me, and that I must have been mumbling again.  Another note: project your voice, not your mood. 

Funny, a week ago the question would have sent a surge of emotional turmoil through me – imagine an angst ridden Harry Potter from The Order of the Phoenix, who was “…just so angry all the time!” and you get the picture.  Of course, I would have stoically replied, “Fine,” and leave it at that.  No reply, just a transaction. 

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I’m a Business, Man!” ~ Jay Z

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Yesterday, I got around to describing a “Good!” weekend.  Had slumber not been so vital, I would have gotten around to describing my Manic Mondays and its highlight:  Margarita Mondays.  Coincidence that Manic Mondays and Margarita Mondays are two sides of the same coin, I think not.  There’s a Power Elite Theory to be extrapolated from this. 

It wasn’t Margarita exactly, it was actually Sangria with Rob Bob & Laura, more high school friends, plus Vinny Laura’s college buddy.  (Not to say that Vinny is not a friend, because he’s definitely one cool cat – I digress!).  We had laughs thanks to Laura and her ridiculously hilarious “life events.”  I’m not going to reveal her punch lines – they’re really stories you need to hear directly from her yourself.  Third note: don’t step on other people’s punch line, e.g. don’t steal their thunder, and VERY IMPORTANT don’t under any circumstances reveal to your close friends such ridiculous funny “life events” that they will never allow you to live down.  Well done, Laura.  Well done.

Yeah so Monday was tough, but it ended well.  Then I went home and blogged about Hope thinking that whatever Tuesday brings I’d be able to handle it – I had a list of tasks/goals and well… it goes to show.  Nothing comes easy, that’s note number four. 

I ended up where we were Monday night at Santana Row (talk about your Power Elite, right?) Pretty much failed everything except the easy bank run (I call it a milk run).  That means Wednesday is “Take 2: Calvin Tries to Save the World, 4 minutes after.”

 Still, defeat makes victory sweeter they say – so try and try again, right?  Old wisdoms and advice through the ages, right?  Sorta like Ben Franklin’s, “A penny saved is a penny earned.”

Well, I’m going to save me a penny too: that laughter we shared, those moments in my memory.  That’s retained earnings, and it’ll appreciate well with a good investment portfolio. On that final note: SAVE YOU MONEY AND INVEST KIDS!  GOOD NIGHT!

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"An iceberg hides it’s strength…

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It was one of those manic Mondays. Still, I had to update my blog eventually right? 

Just a recap since my last bout of insomnia: work, basketball, work, sorta study, basketball, and not getting paid.

That pretty much sums it up.
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…below the surface,"

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It is what it is, but I don’t have to like it. I’m actively trying to improve my situation, because I’m not happy. The last time some one seriously sat me down to ask, I was miserable. (Otherwise on the phone or per conversation, I’m usually “fine” or “all right” Really? No not really, but you weren’t really asking.)

This last Sunday though was like reliving the past. It wasn’t perfect and I’m learning to deal with not being perfect. I’m no longer paralyzed with despair. Meaning I don’t wake up wondering why I even bother waking up, or more exactly “Why the fuck couldn’t I have died in my sleep?” Life not being perfect is working out.

 That’s a play on words because I’ve been playing basketball and been lifting weights. I’m not even close to my old bench press weight, but I aim to surpass it by year-end. I have a goal :D.

Anyway, this last Sunday was Steve Bangalan’s birthday celebration. We’ve been friends since high school, and every year, Steve’s bash usually takes place at Cunningham Park in San Jose. But for some years now, I haven’t been able to make it for some reason or another. (A theme in my life – apparently astrological in nature according to Cousin Joey).

I’m glad I was able to make it this time though. It was what I needed to help me out of this rut. For the longest time, I felt shitty as I mentioned above. It was just an overall dissatisfaction with myself. The barbecue get-together with old friends in that familiar setting – a tradition of sorts, made my past memories real and living. Instead of living in nostalgia for a past or longing for an unobtainable perfect future – wanting and pining for what I could’ve had or should have, I was brought to the here and now. It was a Zen moment. 

Here I was with my friends (my inner circle) re-living one of my fondest memories. It was like Groundhog’s Day. Everything was the same but different. In that sense, it was identical; we were all relatively the same since high school except more grown. Some of us were more mature than others… I digress; what I’m saying is the connections are real. That Zen moment, that almost perfect Zen moment, I realize that I am happy. 

Yeah, maybe I’m not happy all the time, but that moment I was certainly happy. So I’m faced with this divergent path. Stay in the rut, drown in self-loathing, or move on & get over myself. It’s easier said than done when you’re in that deep. (And beating myself up is so much fun, because I am really good at it). Still, I was fortunate to be reminded of a past self. By reliving this memory in real time, seeing how we’ve all changed but how we were all still connected in the same ways, first made me cherish my friends. And second, helped me to see that I was happier before. Before I fell down the rabbit hole, I was happy with myself. Now it’s a struggle.

What I realize is that I’m not the only one projecting this out into the world. We’re all projecting beings (it’s our 6th sense if you will). So how hard is it to feel good about yourself, when others are putting you down. No not intentionally, they’re just displacing their own insecurities & neurosis onto the world. But it’s not helping you any right? Well you and me both.

I use to say I’m not happy until everyone else is happy. I think even then I realize how impossible that sounds. Still, I didn’t let it get to me. Yeah maybe it was youth, maybe I was naïve, and maybe I never experienced the crushing blow of defeat. I think in the growing up process, I lost some of that optimism. I’m searching for it now, and I’m trying to project a new light of myself onto the world. I don’t want to be miserable anymore – saying and admitting that is a pretty big step right?

So now I have to surround myself with hope and it’s similar light... 

...or the Light of Hope, or rather the Star of Light, like in the Star of Earendil

Here's to Hope, Life, Love, & Laughter.

(Lake Cunnigham, June 1,  2008)

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 said the wise man.

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Not many people know this, but on many an adventures sneaking back into San Jose unannounced, I sought wisdom from an old friend. Like Gandalf traversing the mountains and mines to Rivendell seeking counsel with Lord Elrond, I would shroud myself in the silver speeding stream doing seventy something in Alex, my ol' 99'Accord, towards Bangalan’s house. There I sought advice from Steve, it was he who told me that life is what you make of it. It was in these conversations that I learned true friendship is worth the distance every time. 

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Two LotR, one Groundhog's Day, and one Alice in Wonderland references.  Ain't I awesome? Go me!

~Cal

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Can't Sleep... too much coffee.

enjoi.

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It starts off emo...

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I had many friends before.

I’m staring up at the ceiling. The morning dawn struggles to light the darkness, but there are only shadows still.

I had many friends. My contact list was long, but how many of these people do I actually call? It’s six in the morning, who can I call at six in the morning? I remember when there were times when I could call friends at three in the morning.

Things have fundamentally changed in 2007. I now face that darkness again, the same darkness I ran away from so long ago. What’s different? I’m staring up at the ceiling.

Have I lost my friends?

I’m a completely different person, that’s how I reason the detachment feeling. I embarked on a journey solely. I was deep in a relationship, and I was immersed in this other world. Having lived that stretch of the journey, having loved so deeply, nothing is the same.

How can I expect anyone to know that feeling? There was after all only two people in the relationship. But that’s so silly, because I’m sure there existed one or two relationships long before mine right? I can’t be the only one whose ever felt this way.

I’m not the first, and I’m not the last. Still, it feels so desolate. I had many friends before.


I use to live for my friends. They were my purpose. Sadly, that gave way to my relationship. I mean before, friendship was it. I had many friends, and we went everywhere and did everything. I remember all the Vegas trips – there were many. I mean Hella. They were all memorable, and that was the trust. I remember San Diego & Mexico, crazy times, yeah times. That was living the life without worry. I remember the Mojave thunderstorms. I remember riding the butt-crack of Houston’s dawn only to barely make it back to SLO alive. I remember CalPoly, Irvine, and Davis – the lesser UCs you know. I’ll never forget any of those trips. New York went from a little boy’s dream of dreams, from Saturday morning cartoons and cereal, to living breathing New York. The Sepulveda/Sunset drives with Weezer and the Chili Peppers were our mini trips. My friends, you’ve seen me at my darkest, my most down, and out. You’ve seen me falter, fall, pick myself up, dust myself off, and continue. You are my lingering thoughts. You were and are the friends I chose. Be it to Walmart at twelve mid-night or be it to the Thirsty Scholars, You all are my trip.

Add to the list, just in time before we start a new year, San Francisco. Special thanks for that T-Man and Cathy. If anything, the bringing in the New Year with yous reminded me of what it was all for. I had a glimpse of my life before I changed. I don’t expect to ever be that same person, and that’s not to say that’s bad or good. Just know, despite it all – Life is a trip, and of course friendship is worth a parking ticket.

I have many friends still.

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...it ends with Happy New Year!

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If you were my real friend…

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The quick and dirty: Call me, I’d rather hear you voices than read some quick keyboard strokes.

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For those who care to be in the know:

So today’s a special day, and before the festivities begin, I wanted to speed yall up to date on the latest and greatest. I’m supposed to be out of town this weekend; I planned a weekend adventure up to Tahoe. Unfortunately, plans change. There in is the wisdom we all should take heed: hope fore the best, but plan for contingencies, because shit happens.

Not to say that my weekend is thrown to shit, no. (Hardly, I was planning on being emo anyway… I’m never happy about getting older.)

Quite the opposite, my dad’s in town. I can’t remember the last time I saw him, so it is a good gift. He’s changed… he’s older and I can see history in his eyes. The lines on his face tell of laughter, of love, of lost, and of life. Whenever I see him, I see my older brother… they look very much alike. On life, I am fortunate to have (though I have yet the opportunity) to meet my half siblings. Yes, the spoiled last child now, is an older brother to three younger siblings. Amazing.

Without going too much into the whole family dynamics, needless to say, I canceled on friends to see my dad. That’s the thing with Asian cultures see: family first. It’s not your birthday… it the day your parents brought you into this world. It’s not your day to begin with really, in all respect, it is their day. Of course, with all formalities, it’s nicer just to say that it is collectively our day.

So we are celebrating our day, and I will be having a party after all, as my dad wanted to do something special… but it’s more of a restaurant type party. Think of it as a Young and Dangerous type of restaurant party where it’s all about giving face. Obviously, I did not plan it, it’s supposed to be a surprise, and well… there will be alcohol and tons of old people. Respect.

Okay, so time and place: 6 or 7 PM, Grand Fortune Restaurant [on Senter Rd… all the way down towards the end… by the Monterey Rd train tracks (I cleverly refer to as “the tracks”) in the Marina Foods shopping plaza]

Come, don’t come whatever… in all actuality, I might bounce out early and go to Lido as my cousin is working tonight.

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“The Symbology” behind Strange Signs:

It’s in quotes because, “Yes! I know how to use quotes!” Something strange occurred as I turned on my computer to write these thoughts. My watch fell off my wrist. I was stunned with this poignant event. Today of all days, the strap on my watch gives…

What can this mean? is Time slipping away? Am I Running Out of Time? Is this... my Time?

I can honestly say that as I felt this weight lifted from my wrist while staring at my watch on the floor. Time did stand still for me. Cheesy? Symbology? I don’t know.

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