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SoulCrates
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Name: SoulCrates
Country: United States
State: California
Gender: Male
Interests: Malt liquor aficionado, damn near every single card game known to man [including poker of course], sensitive drunken talks about feelingz, finding tru luv <3, saving the world.
Expertise: 'Missing' AIM msgs bc I'm always 'away', overanalyzing, singing off key, kim chee devourer, god of the 4am essay, corrupter of the youth
Occupation: Student
Industry: Legal
Message: message me
AIM:  soulcrates408/shokotobuki
Member Since:
11/6/2002
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| On mischievous things that go bump (or well, scratch) in the night
So today, Kevin, my little brother IMs me and asks a somewhat random question:
"Do you believe in ghosts."
Completely perplexed about why Kevin would ask ME of all people, I give him a manly, and very comforting answer of, "NO."
Unsatisfied, Kevin proceeds to tell me about how he woke up this morning with three scratches on his chest. I ask him how he could have surmised a ghost did this to him, and he goes "mom told me."
...
Mom told him. Keep in mind that my mother is a veritable wikipedia source for all things superstitious. If anything happens, she has a superstitious answer. For example, if you're not succeeding in life, it's OBVIOUSLY because you're using uneven chopsticks. What does that have to do with anything? Well, obviously, since your chopsticks are uneven, the short one represents you, and the longer one represents everyone else. How can you succeed if you're not even on an even playing field? Look at all this ground you have to make up!!
Obviously.
Anyhoo, with such a uh, great source of information, I attempted to debunk Kevin's fears. I ran through the usual arguments to comfort him, to tell him that there are in fact, no ghosts. However, in retrospect, perhaps I wasn't as comforting as I should've been:
[17:04] Kevin: it looks like someone really scratched me
[17:04] Kevin: not an object
[17:04] SoulCrates408: hmm
[17:04] SoulCrates408: crazy
[17:04] SoulCrates408: but like, if it was a ghost
[17:04] SoulCrates408: why would it just scratch your arm
[17:05] SoulCrates408: when it could rip off your arm if it wanted to
Whoopsies. That wasn't too good. But wait, there's more, Kevin goes on to describe his scratches.
[17:10] SoulCrates408: is it deep?
[17:10] SoulCrates408: or just scratches
[17:10] Kevin: scratches
[17:10] Kevin: that are x's
What follows is my best attempt at making the kid feel better (really, I had the best intentions).
[17:13] SoulCrates408: maybe it's a friendly ghost?
[17:13] SoulCrates408: like it just wants to play tic tac toe with you?
[17:13] Kevin: i guess
[17:13] Kevin: ..
[17:13] SoulCrates408: I'M KIDDING I'M KIDDING
[17:13] SoulCrates408: [but if you lose, you know you die right?]
[17:13] SoulCrates408: I'M KIDDING
[17:14] SoulCrates408: i'm sure it's a one time thing dude
[17:14] SoulCrates408: don't worry, you'll be ok dude
[17:15] Kevin: k
[17:16] SoulCrates408: let me know if anything else happens
[17:16] Kevin: k
[17:21] SoulCrates408: but, in the meantime
[17:21] SoulCrates408: you should hurry up and scratch circles on yourself
[17:21] SoulCrates408: in case the ghost is like, 2 moves away from winning the tic tac toe game
[17:21] SoulCrates408: i mean if you lose, at least put up a fight
[17:22] Kevin: funny but no
I now feel like a bona-fide older brother. If anyone else is haunted by ghosts, feel free to contact me for a comforting shoulder to lean on.
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| On being grateful for a return to normalcy, and finding onself
I
have something of a love-hate relationship with Thanksgiving. The
frumpy cynic in me balks at the thought of millions of people
celebrating joyously with their families without realizing
Thanksgiving's unfortunate bloody history. I suppose it's rather
difficult to be awash in warm and fuzzy feelings if instead of "gobble
gobble!" one remembers "genocide genocide!" But that's a topic for
another entry, not this one.
This entry is for the pragmatic
realist inside of me. Or rather, a catharsis for a deeply introverted
side of myself that I've grown intimately acquainted with over the last
6 months. Because aside from smallpox laced blankies and broken
promises to indigenous Americans, Thanksgiving is also a time for,
well, giving thanks. And this Thanksgiving, I have quite a bit to be
thankful for. I could go on and on, but let me just single out a
couple that occupy a special spot in my heart - which I do have, after
all. : )
I have a family, that for all its peculiarities,
imperfections, and dysfunctions, has supported and loved me for over 26
years. I suppose my family can be thought of as a patchwork quilt.
When you look at the pieces by themselves, you'd probably experience a
wide spectrum of emotions. Some of the pieces look awesome (me!
meee!!), some are awe-inspiring, and some, just really dumb looking
(Hoan, I'm thinking of you). However, when you put them together, you
get a complex comforter that's strangely comforting, deeply wonderful,
and full of history and memories. It may not be the best or prettiest
quilt, but god dammit, it's my quilt. And I love it. (Incidentally,
this patchwork quilt would also be found at Marshall's, since this is
my family after all.)
I have a girlfriend, who aside from
possessing a booty so beautiful and perfect that it's caused me to
reconsider the existence of god on multiple occasions (who else could
possibly have created that), is wonderfully sweet and caring. I've
always hoped to find someone that I could grow with, love, and learn
from. What I didn't expect was that I would find that someone so
soon. And I'm grateful for having her in my life. Oh. And her smile
is nice too.
Finally, I'm grateful that I survived law school, and passed the Bar. For the most part, through a fortuitous (and oftentimes
volatile) combination of sheer will and determination, I've been able
to "succeed." The entire legal experience has had a profound effect on me, and it's interesting to see what kind of person I'll be five years from now. I truly believe that for every year you're in law school, you age 5 years - physically and mentally.
Me? I'm thankful that I aged and matured for the better. I'm back from my 6 months self-exposed exile...I'm done being a gigantic introvert (although, I must say I do make for rather amusing - and good looking - company)...
I'm finally "myself" again. And I couldn't be happier. : )
Happy Thanksgiving. : )
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| I PASSED! I PASSED! I'M COMPETENT! WAHAHAHAHAH. I'M AWESOMELY AWESOME! WAHAHAHAHAHA! I HAVE MY SWAGGER BACK! PWAHAHAHAHA! AWWWW CHEAAAAA
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| Eye-Contact - On Necessary Preventive Measures against [Gasp!] Bad Sex
This was originally part of the Costa Rica blog I've been working on [whut. You can't rush genius work], but it doesn't really fit in into the overall story. Still, it is of such monumental importance that I feel it is a message that must be conveyed to the world, lest my conscience haunts me during every moment of free time. I can only hope that you forward this message to your loved ones. So here it is.
Me, Jon, and Eric were at the Yardhouse. It was approximately 12 hours before our flight to Costa Rica, so we we decided that a nice happy hour would be a nice start to the trip. Oh, and also to visit Erica of course : ). [Of courseeee I <3 Erica more than beer. Of course.] The usual formalities took place. Sit down. Look at big ass beer list. Order our drinks. And now the toast. But wait!
It started off as an innocent remark. Erica, ever the caring and
loving individual, noted that when we toast each other, we must make
eye contact before drinking. Why? Bc otherwise, [solemn voice]
"You will have bad sex for seven years."
Me, Jon, and Eric immediately lowered our mugs from our lips and
essentially glared into each other's eyes to ensure that proper eye
contact was made. After all, this statement, while helpful in its uh,
prophylactic value as a defense against the scary monster of "bad sex",
was not very well defined. Erica had failed to mention just how much
eye contact would have to be made. For example, would a quick glance
suffice? Or would a more intense gaze be necessary to slay the "bad sex
monster". Since this was left to our own interpretation, we basically
engaged in aggressive ritual "eye-ball fucking" everytime we toasted
each other during the trip.
Now, since the dawn of time, people have expended countless amounts of
energy to come up with a way to compel their fellow human beings to act
in a certain way. They've created massive legal codes, tinkered with
hypnotism, instituted totalitarian governments, and used organized
religion as an attempt to control people. Most of these experiments
have been half successful at best.
However, with one statement, Erica successfully caused three guys to
give her their unquestioned obedience. These same individuals, have at
various times in their lives, probably flaunted some law, engaged in
some sort of depravity, and bellowed hearty guffaws at the mention of a
fiery afterlife. But now, here they were, frantically molesting each
other with their eyes, before they even allowed the thought of drinking
to enter their minds.
Incredible, really, the power of sex. Perhaps in another time, Erica
would have received a Nobel Prize for such a powerful experiment. But
I suppose that she will just have to deal with us "thanking" her for
ensuring that we would have many years, of bed (and back) breaking sex.
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| Costa Rica - Bar Trip 2007, Part 1
Elaine - "Hey,
wanna go to Costa Rica?"
Sure.
When do we leave?
"Tomorrow. You
have to leave San Francisco tonight and meet us in LA tomorrow morning."
Oh
fugg.
I was still
recovering. My right arm and both
shoulders were basically crippled, victims of an army of knots that had
overtaken my body during Bar studies.
Although it had been about a week or two after the actual test had
ended, I still felt absolutely drained.
So hell, why not. I deserve a
break.
After all, I had
essentially withdrawn from the world for 2 months. This self-imposed exile creates a fertile
situation for insanity to manifest itself within even the strongest
individuals, much less my crazy ass.
During that time, I had locked myself
up in my room, with only my Bar books to keep me company.
Insanity and general
gloom & doom transpire not only because of the rather dull company I had
(as Bar books do not tell many funny jokes, nor are they known for sharing
amusing anecdotes), such an unsavory regression into effing madness occurs bc
it's a byproduct of studying for the Bar.
It really is a one-way ticket to cuckoo-dom.
But enough, now that
I had personally gone through all that BS, it was about time I recharged my
batteries. This is where Elaine's sudden
little proposition factors in.
---
In Blink!, Malcom Gladwell's discussed the way
humans are able to formulate reliable snap judgments, and to trust their
"gut reactions" if you will.
In fact, sometimes overthinking can cause more harm than good, bc you
ignore this carefully forged survival instinct, and end up overanalyzing
yourself to oblivion.
It's true that
common sense and instincts are great.
But although unqualified submission to your adrenal glands can
streamline a person's decision-making processes, it can also lead to disastrous
results. Consider the following
prophetic conservation I had with Eric, as we were pondering about whether to
go on this shotgun trip.
"I dunno man,
I'm not sure. We have like, 3 hours to decide. And we're leaving for a week?!
What about my dog Butters, who's gonna take care of her? And what about all my other shit?"
Dude, fuck it, let's just go. The longer we think
about this, the more likely we won't go.
Let's just book this shit and worry about it later.
See why you have to
think now? Instinctive impulses may have helped us avoid Darwin's scythe, but ignoring pesky traits such as "reason" and "common sense" sometimes gets you into ridiculous situations.
Further discussion would have probably led us to the corollary of the
"fuck it, let's just go bc at least we don't have to think about
anything" line of thinking.
Hmmm.
Dude…at the same time…this IS Hanlaine's planning of the vacation.
True.
Whut
if our whole trip consists of us riding buses bc "omg omg omg they're sooo
cool."
Fuck.
So, with logic and
reasoning thrown out the window, me, Jon, and Eric decided "fuggit, let's
just trust them", and threw all our shit in the back of my trust Civic
hybrid, and drove down to So Cal.
And of course, my
brother Hoan, ever the caring sibling (but unfortunately, geographically
impaired), bestowed these tender words of wisdom before I embarked on my little
expedition to Central America.
"Damnn, you
going to Costa Rica dog?"
Yeah
dude, why.
"Dude, be
careful down there ok, it can be dangerous in Mexico at night."
Whut
the. Costa Rica isn't in Mexico fool.
"Do they speak
Spanish?"
Yea.
"Then they're
in Mexico."
...
(You can now see
why, even with all consideration for humility and objectivity, why I quickly
answer "YES" when asked if I am the "smartest person in my
family".)
---
How much trust did
we put into our friends? Basically, the
ONLY thing we knew was that our destination was Costa Rica. Me, Jon, and Eric quickly realized this when we were unable to answer incredibly difficult questions such as:
"When do you guys come back?" Uh...a week?
"What's Costa Rica's currency?"
Uh..dinero?
This, coupled with the last minute revelation from Elaine that the hotel that we "booked" as part of our trip was all of a sudden unavailable should have given us an ominous warning, one where a normal person would realized that "maybeeeeeee, something's not right here." But that's the key. Normal people would have realized that. And fuck that, we were just a buncha motherfuckers that wanted to relax, so hey, what's the worst thing that could happen if you just run off to another country w/o planning? ; )
More stories next time, but in the meantime, here's a ghetto photo timeline.
To deal with the 10 hour flight, we attempt to cope by downing sake bombs. Eff dramamine.
Jason kindly let us crash his place the night before our flight, so he decides to force us to play Trivia! against each other. I wanted to play for shots, but Eric? Eric doesn't want to play for shots...
The fucker wants to play for slaps to the face instead! Wtf. Here, Eric displays the "proper" way to smack someone in the face. But of course, order would be restored to the world soon enough when Han and Elaine showed up. We played 3 v. 3 and Elaine's team lost. Jon [the slappee below], remarked that "hey..mebbe you shouldn't drink anymore? You've had a lot to drink." Elaine, takes this w/ indignation, and screams out "WHAT!! No way! We don't need any handouts! We'll take the shot!!" What happens when you have the "WE DON'T NEED ANY HANDOUTS" attitude?
Why. You crawl under the coffee table and knock the fuck out of course. But it's ok! You know why? BC YOU DIDN'T NEED ANY EFFING HANDOUTS. Here, Elaine shows how you can retain your dignity by taking every single shot of alcohol given to you.
Han, incredibly worried about Elaine's current drunken predicament, but a little preoccupied as well. Who can blame him?
Next time - River rafting, volcanos, ATVS, and cocaine off of Costa Rican Strippers!! [and by cocaine, I mean us sitting alone on a beach, eating ice cream, and looking at girls]
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