Author: benjancewicz

Mood: Dancing .: Joy Inside :.
Listening to: .: Jill Scott – Love Rain :.
Reading: .: Everything but the Burden :.
Watching: .: The Stealing of the Superfortress :.

Aloha!

I feel good.

Inya and I spoke today, and we cleared up a lot of things. A lot of things. But we’re back to friends again.
Don’t get it twisted; no emotional attachments, I’m still growing on my own and being my own person and trusting God to lead. And I’m not crushing, flirting, or hinting with her.

We talked for a long time after Deep Thoughts Poetry reading. I read Iyuu Awaas, Occidental, and Do You Trust Me. They were well received. She e-mailed me during Easter break that she wanted to sit down and talk, and we just happened to set up this time. She forgot about the poetry, so I reminded her. She read, a piece about her cousin. It was really good, too (dang, I forgot to tell her). Anyways, we talked about all kinds of stuff. And the franker and more truthful I got, the better it went.

I just walked her home.

Odd, having so many female friends. Even as friends; I wouldn’t want them getting jealous of each other.

I’m very busy, rounding up everything I have to do for Senior Show.

Mood: Dancing .: Micheal Inside :.
Listening to: .: Seal – Touch :.
Reading: .: Everything but the Burden :.
Watching: .: Micheal Jackson videos :.

Aloha!

It RAINED.
Drizzly, wet, cold.

I woke up at 7AM today. Fresh, wide eyed, despite the grey. My alarm went off at 9:30; I had forgotten about it.

I went with Helina Zewdu, Rachel, Ernestia, Erin Muldoon and Mark to Global Outreach church. It was interesting, and very long as usual. I like Pastor Keldole’s sermons, but they seem very worldly sometimes. He hypes up the congregation about Mercedes and Lexus’ (Lexii?). He added a disclaimer at the end of the sermon saying one should be happy with what they had; but that was after about 45 minutes of telling us how he longed for a new car, a new house, etc etc. That, and they’re very loud about their giving.
Bah. But then I’m contradicting myself. Churches should unite, they’ve been split up long enough. I need to learn to tolerate and get along.

Got home around 3 pm (we left at 10) and went over to Joanne Gard’s house for lunch. She and Mipa Lee cooked rice and curry and vegetables. It was sooooooo good. We had crepes for dessert too, and played Taboo. I like that game a lot, but Valerie got too excited and yelled at me, so I withdrew a little bit.

Mipa was in her room in the back, so before I left I went and visited her. She was alone, just sitting at her computer. We talked quite a while, griping over professors and chit chatting. She seems sad sometimes, I want to cheer her up. I gave her a hug, we exchanged screen names and I left.

I worked on my final project and FINISHED IT. I am ALL DONE. I now have to print it and animate it in Flash, but I don’t think it will take too long. Mipa chatted with me while I worked.

I realized while I was talking to Lox that my Senior Show and our show at the Rusty Nail were the same date!!! I don’t think I’ll be able to play with them, but we’re going to try and figure it out.

After that Suji Yoon, Jenna and Karin Glinton came over. We listened to music, and I showed them some of my artwork. they just left, and I need to separate the final and see if I can import it as layers into Flash.

Bonne Nuit 🙂

Mood: Happy .: Wind Inside :.
Listening to: .: Danni Minogue – Who Do You Love Now :.
Reading: .: Everything but the Burden :.
Watching: .: i am sam :.

Aloha!

My motorcycle is fixed!
I’ve dubbed it Wiiskichaan, the Naskapi name for the Grey Jay. They are one of the most common birds where I am from, very quick and small.

I drove out to the Yamaha shop, they said my throttle trouble was caused by the cable not being routed right. I’m going to take a look at it tomorrow. The King & Queen seat arrived yesterday, so I installed it. I gave Joanne Garde, Collins & Gerald Mwangi rides on it, testing it out. Unlike my old seat, this one locks down firmly. It’s fantastic.
I’m going to clean it up tomorrow, wash it, and polish it. I hope tomorrow is as beautiful as today was.
I woke up at 2:30, and went down to play soccer for a while. After that, I fixed Wiiskichaan and went to dinner. Hope Newcomer lent me her card, so I can eat at Lottie. After than I rode out to Yamaha. I also stopped by Salvation Army and picked up a couple leather pouches; I’m going to figure out a way to install them on the bike for tools and provisions.

When I came back, Valerie Ong invited me to watch I Am Sam with her. She’s a lot of fun to be around. She invited me to the soccer game too. That movie is so sad. I feel so lonely after watching it. I need to repair a bit.

I’m going to bed “early” tonight, trying to get my sleep schedule back on track. I went to bed at 7AM last night. I’m going to respond to comments and then hit the sack.

Mood: Meditative / Reflective .: Power Inside :.
Listening to: .: Real McCoy – Run Away :.
Reading: .: Everything but the Burden :.
Watching: .: Dave Chapelle Show :.

Aloha!

I still can’t sleep.

I’m going to be in terrible debt.
I owe the college itself about 3,000$. They’ve been very nice to me in letting me slowly pay back money for tuition and such, but despite my best efforts, I’m still going to owe them 3,000$

I will owe the money lenders over 17,000$ when I graduate. This scares me. I need to find some way to work that out.

IF if if if if I get the job at the School of the Nativity, they’ll give me 4,500 towards college loans, and I’m going to try and figure out if the credits they’re giving me will at least cover me as “part time” so my interest won’t go up. I hope. I pray.

In an attempts to unwind today AND do something productive, I worked on my DA Prints account.
I’m only putting up pieces the people +fav, because it’s obvious they like them.

I’m going to try and do some more productive stuff. Maybe I’ll upload some more.

Wish me luck.

Mood: Meditative / Reflective .: Power Inside :.
Listening to: .: Real McCoy – Run Away :.
Reading: .: Everything but the Burden :.
Watching: .: Dave Chapelle Show :.

Aloha!

It’s 3:37 AM, and I can’t sleep.
I’m not restless, just not tired. I think maybe I’ve been eating too much.

I did the same thing last night, and the night before.
I did sleep until 3 in the afternoon today, though, and then ran to make my class. It’s nice taking a reduced load. I don’t have class tomorrow, so I don’t mind. I think I’m going to try and fix my motorcycle tomorrow, I think either the fuel filter or the carb needs cleaned out. I don’t know.

I’ve been hanging out with Tamika a lot, and talking a lot online. I really enjoy her company. She’s very bouncy, and it’s refreshing. So much fun, and such deep conversation 🙂 She’s going to be training me in karate. She used to be a champion when she was younger ( [link]) but gave it up for a while. She’s really good, and said she’d be willing to teach me for free. This is really really good, because I’ve wanted to take lessons forever, but I can’t afford it.
She sparred me the other day after Gospel Choir. I was afraid to hurt her. Although I’ve had no formal training, I trained myself in Street Fighting back home. In school, me and a couple other underdogs would practice sparring, mimic moves we saw on Jet Li and Jackie Chan movies.
Most of what we learned was defensive, but we also learned different techniques on how to fight with the things around us. One of the most popular techniques was Locker Fighting. If we got cornered in school by a bully, we duck a punch, kick the shin, throw a punch at the shoulder, and then launch up onto the top of the lockers with the help of an open locker door. We’d then use the door to slam the bully, and then get away by swinging to the other side using pipe hanging from the ceiling. We practiced all kinds of things.
But when Tamika and I sparred, I was afraid to jab. First of all, she’s a girl. I don’t like fighting girls, simply for fear of hitting in the wrong area. Another thing is, she’s petite, and though my head knew her training wouldn’t her hit in… um – certain places -, my training told me otherwise. There are no rules in street fighting; you take the opponent down by any means possible, and as quickly as possible. I’m going to need to work some things out if I’m going to properly trained. I’m going to ask her if she can teach me all the blocking moves first.

Inya called me.

I was in DC yesterday, but she left me a message on machine. she had called last night… just to talk. I sent her a message back when I got it. nonchalant. Simple. Friendly. As if we hadn’t been not talking for several weeks.
And then.
Victoria’s birthday party was today. I got her a box of chocolates and made her a card. Inya came. We partied for a while, then Marteisha Gant called me and invited me to play Mafia. I said sure, and slipped out and went over.
Inya showed up later (she didn’t follow me, Christine probably invited her).
When I got home, I found a note on a napkin at my computer: “Bye, ~Inya”
Does she want to come back to being friends again?
I don’t know. I’m going to be how I’ve always been, and see. It confuses me, but I’m not letting it bother me.

I went to Washington DC on Tuesday, part of the Art Majors trip. I went only to the Mayan exhibit, though. That was fantastic. I want to get a book on Mayan art sometime. Their caricatures are incredible.

The rest of the time, I just walked around the city and took pictures. I think I got some really good architecture work, so I’m hoping it turns out.

I found a 4 lane tunnel that went under the city for about 9 blocks. It had a narrow ledge just wide enough for one person to walk, so I walked down it. It was very noisy, and cars sped by at 60+ miles an hour (fast drivers). I got some really good shots, though.

At the end of the tunnel, I met a homeless couple living under a bridge. Tom and Katie. Tom was an ex-criminal, and had been released from jail 20 years ago. He didn’t like work much (felt it almost like prison) and so lived under the bridge. They had a pretty nice set up, and had tapped the electricity from the lights in the bridge to power Tom’s small radio. Katie was putting Tom’s hair in cornrows. I talked with them for 2 hours or so, then gave them the apple from my lunch bag and continued on my way. Tom had some interesting things to say. He didn’t think the race problem would ever end, unless we started moving so fast with technology that a lot more interracial marriages happened. I think he only partly right. I still have faith in revolution.

As soon as I left them, I rounded a corner, and found a street vendor putting out wares. Table loads full of book. I wandered by, then saw a Cornell West book on there. Then I realized ALL the books were Conscious books. The man put them out was African American, dressed all in black with a ski cap with “Reparation” written across it. I bought the Cornell West book from him, as well as a book by Micheal Eric Tyson. If you don’t know who these men are, 1. Shame on you, 2. Look them up, 3. find a quote from them for me.

That is your assignment.

I’m hungry.

Mood: Meditative / Reflective .: Power Inside :.
Listening to: .: Nas – If I Ruled the World :.
Reading: .: Everything but the Burden :.
Watching: .: History of WWII Ships :.

Aloha!

Pagoda had a show at a Coffeehouse tonight, and it rocked. It really helped us a WHOLE lot to play quieter. Lox said it right in practice: if we can’t hear each other talk while we play; we’re too loud. It really keeps us together. I feel like if we practice like that; we can rock out on stage and be together.

I’ve been asked to speak at the Baccalaureate, here are my rough thoughts I sent them tonight.

It’s VERY rough.

I grew up on a Native American reservation, and though I had said the prayer of repentance when I was 4, I hadn’t really known what it meant. I was involved in all kinds of spiritual darkness; being plagued by drink and smoking and sex. Although I wasn’t accepted by the Native American children I grew up with; I wanted to be. I wanted to fit in, to belong; just to have a friend who liked me. It was not like growing up in the States; I couldn’t just find a new group of friends who I clicked better with; there was only one group. And because of the colour of my skin; I didn’t fit.
I learned to be just like them. I fit in perfectly, in the way I acted, talked, dressed and even thought. And I was close to taking on the rest of the negative aspects.
It wasn’t until my confirmation class at the age of 13 that I realized that what I was living and what I said my faith was were two different things. At that same time; I had also been coming more in touch with God. He began speaking to me through dreams; and while I was out alone in the Forest. He began showing me he had larger plans for me, that might not end with me living at home. That there were more things that he wanted me to learn.
And slowly, I began to realize that the colour of my skin was not a mistake. On one hand; it had kept me from being accepted too much. On the other hand, I had also proved that I could fit in. The elders of the community had welcomed me and treated me as their own. In once sense, I did belong. And they, with my parents, made me realize God wanted to talk with me and for me to love him. It led me to be baptized and led me to begin encouraging those around me to see what I saw.

It took me until my senior year to be confident about my Naskapi heritage. I held it back, sitting through classes where I heard racial slurs; some unintentional some intentional; towards minority students.
I used to get me angry; hearing my culture walked all over… treated like a savage beast conquered by the European Americans while they “Tamed the West”. I cringed when they named their things Native American names; using the names of chiefs and of tribes for their automobiles, lakes, rivers, towns, and sports teams; and yet treated anyone who looked like a Native like dirt. They were classified as drunk weed growers who only wanted money from casinos.
Slowly, I realized I wasn’t the only one who was being marginalized and hurt. I sat in the back, and saw African Americans, Asian Americans and Latin Americans hurt by comments they had received. I saw subcultures of the white American society get bashed for they way the looked, dressed, and what music they listened to. And I looked at my own race; and realized I was the only one. I didn’t see any other single person who understood how I grew up; on a reservation, speaking Naskapi, hunting, trapping, fishing, living in the bush.
Then I looked at myself. I was white.
I could not relate to the white person; I did not grow up speaking my main language as English. I didn’t grow up with their TV shows, their music, their way of life.
But they trusted me. When I spoke in the classroom, I discovered people listened to me. For the first time, rather than being a handicap, my colour was suddenly a privilege. I discovered that I was able to argue for the same things my minority friends argued for; but when I spoke, the white people listened.
I began studying the history of the United States. I studied how the slave trade had started with Native Americans who had been taken prisoner and forced to run their own plantations. And when they refused and died out; the Europeans began bringing in new forms of savage labour. I read about the civil rights movement. I read about the history of the Latin American; the Mexican and Cuban immigrants. I read about the Civil War, the 2 world wars, the Vietnam war, the first Iraqi war. I read about the Chinese railroad labour in the west.
And I discovered I was able to speak about it and people listened. I discovered that though it took a while for the minorities to get used to me fighting on their side; once they realized who I was, I was welcomed. I also saw that each minority group was fighting against marginalization, but they each were fighting on their own. There was no unity, and sometimes the groups ended up disagreeing with themselves; halting their progress.
I was the middle ground. I was Native American. I had no representatives but myself. I was part of a race of ghosts, and their specters cried out that I had to do something to prevent what happened to them from happening again. I appeared white. I had a voice, and it had the power to talk to people who related to my colour without scaring them, and without having them feel like they were being attacked.
And that is where I find myself today. I not only fought for injustice and promotion of equality and understanding on campus, but I also began designing half the stuff you see around campus, and worked for the Student computer services.
These three things combined landed me a job in Harrisburg; teaching Art and Computers to young minority kids at a inner city Christian middle school that runs on all on donations.

Aight. I have to sleep, I’m going to help out with the International Banquet tomorrow.

Mood: Meditative / Reflective .: Copper Inside :.
Listening to: .: Alexia – It Is Not The End :.
Reading: .: Everything but the Burden :.
Watching: .: Foundation for a Better Life Commercials :.

Aloha

Today was alright.
I’m a little tired.
I got up pretty early for a Monday; around 10:30. 🙂
Made sure Christine’s poster was looking good (posted) and then went out on the moped to make some rounds.
I returned a whole bunch of library books, and then went down to Old Main. Those designers had a field day with the SIFE report; scratching it up will all kinds of corrections.
I thought most of it what unnecessary; but it was mostly wording changes anyway; so it wasn’t my fault as a designer. I’m going to touch it up tomorrow and make sure everything is good.
Then went to mail off the Pagoda rough CD to the publishers, and then went to class.

Started learning about Flash today; it’s fun. I’m excited to learn to import the stuff I’ve been doing in Illustrator into Flash.
My portfolio site is going to be redone it looks like, the thing was just too stinkin’ big to upload. I have to figure out something simpler to work out. Less image and more HTML.

Went to Gospel Singers after that. I don’t know how it’s going to work with Fred. It’s just… he doesn’t sing on key. And he causes a lot of trouble with the other singers too. I don’t know, I feel bad for the kid. Me and young Alan Chipman are bonding well, though.

After that went to Senior Show class.
I hate that class so much. They ripped on my piece, students and faculty alike, and on things that I wasn’t done with anyways. I hate having to show unfinished pieces to people who argue about stupid stuff that ends up being soley a matter of opinion anyways.
Mary and Kyna were nice to me, though, and gave some constructive criticism after the rest of ’em were through with me. Make my blood boil, but it’s ok.

Sped down to Gospel Choir after that. That went well.
Then up to the Deep Thoughts Poetry reading in the new Student Union building. I don’t like the place; too open and echoey. The poetry was excellent, though, even though I only caught the tail end of it.

Played Foozball with Paul and Alan Chipman, Breon Wells, Christine Barrow, Niambi Powell and Joanne Garde.

And I’m tired. I was going to write poetry tonight, but I’m too bushed. Maybe I’ll submit something instead.

Mood: Disbelief .: Savage Inside :.
Listening to: .: Chopin – Nocturne in E Flat :.
Reading: .: Everything but the Burden :.
Watching: .: John Q :.

Aloha

My parents came over today. My dad and I worked on the motorcycle. My mom wanted to watch a movie, so I set up Finding Forrester for her. We took a break because we were having trouble getting the cover of the box for the contact points. We weren’t getting a spark at all, so we knew there must be some point of disconnection in between the battery and the coils; most likely in the many replaced switches on the handlebars. Also, something I’ll do on my own later is take apart the starter chain casing to make sure the pins are falling to connect to the drive shaft (It’s spinning freely at the moment).
My dad and I went out to the Yamaha shop to ask how to get the panel off, and it turns out we’ll probably have to drill. We picked up subs on the way back, and then ate them at the house. Mom had finished Finding Forrester, and then had picked out John Q. from my movies.
I’d never seen it before, so we ate our subs and watched it with her.
John Q. is an excellent movie. Go watch it if you haven’t yet. Mipa Lee came by while we were watching, and asked to borrow a couple of my movies. She borrowed How to Lose A Guy in 10 Days, Brown Sugar and Antwone Fisher. Then Maggie Arnold came by returning 3 movies she had borrowed; The Defender (Jet Li), Crouching Tiger, and Return to Me. You know you have good movies when everyone wants to borrow them. J Anyways, John Q is about a man who gives up his heart (and basically his life) for his son. It’s incredible. It stars Denzel Washington, and his acting is superb. I like his accent in the movie, but can’t remember where I’ve heard it before.

After that, we took of for the Lathrop’s (my host parents) and then once there we drove to the church for a pot luck dinner with Gary Lathrop’s Sunday School class. Lots of yuppies with young kids. Needless to say, I got along with the kids really well. I played all kinds of games with them; must have looked like a sea of little elves around a giant robot with them clambering all over me. It was fun, though. I love kids. They often have far wiser things to say than their parents. Their parents drove me up a wall. The random babble about needless things and really bad jokes just got to me. I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t be critical or arrogant. But they were so ignorant. I must find a way to teach these kinds of people without insulting them, and still be noble that they can look up to.

We came back to the Lathrop’s after that. Mr. and Mrs. Lathrop just don’t seem happily married. My parents snuggled together in one of their over stuffed leather chairs like a couple of teenagers. The Lathrop’s sat on opposite sides of the rooms, mildly bickering as Mr. Lathrop sent across condescending remarks.
And he’s a marriage counselor. Sigh.
I will never get married if that is what the marriage has the potential of being.

I retired early to come and write this and to escape as the condescending remarks turned on me. Mrs. Lathrop went to Messiah College, and Mr. Lathrop was making snide comments about the debate that happened last year on the campus alcohol policy. And on top of it, my mother joined in. None of them had actually asked me what had really happened. And besides, I’m not… shall we say… the token poster boy for Messiah College anyways. Far be it from I to advocate everything this college does; but then again, far be it from I to advocate any oppressive administration. So I stayed silent and smiled and let them wallow in their own silliness.
This country is plummeting; I swear. So many factors point to the imminent destruction of this nation, and at the same time it’s citizens have the gall to insist and demand that “God Bless America”. Bull. This country is headed towards civil war. The minorities of this country do not believe they are being treated justly; the baby boomers and gen X, the most un-parented generations this green earth has ever seen are parenting the youth of this nation.
And the youth, while they may not be smart, are itching for a rebellion. And there are those educated enough to lead the rebellions. Either that, or the youth will destroy themselves.

Anarchy in America. The bombs bursting in air gave proof that the flag was still there. And the flag still here is a sign that more bombs will come.

Mood: Disbelief .: Savage Inside :.
Listening to: .: Ella Fitzgerald & Louis Armstrong – Tenderly :.
Reading: .: Everything but the Burden :.
Watching: .: Hidalgo :.

Aloha.

Quickly, a shameless couple plugs:
~robotorion is my photo album of where I’ve been.
~OnePagoda is my band’s photo album.
~naskapi-linguist is my father. His drawings and photos rock.
~ElizabethJancewicz is my sister. She rocks period, and her art is good too.

Hidalgo is my new favorite movie. Hands down. I love that movie.
It’s about a half-Native American coming to grips with who he is in a horse race across the Arabian Desert. It’s incredible. And the best thing, it’s not Hollywoodized. I mean, no sex, no profanity… It is ONE GOOD MOVIE.

I went out for a walk in the snow last night after I posted; it was beautiful. I walked around for a while, I felt energized. I talked to Tamika online when I got home, she thought I was corny. *shrugs* story of my life; the hopeless romantic. It was incredible, though. It was falling so softly, coating everything. It was peaceful, just talking to God and unwinding. I think I need to do that again tonight.

I met with Terry Earhart this morning and finalized the SIFE Annual Report. I’ll be sending him the invoice soon. After that, I went down to the Messiah Design office to have it proofed. It turns out they wanted it in a different format than I had it, and wanted bleeds off the edges, so I sat there with their computer for about an hour and a half converting it. When I got out, I found the post office was closed. I was going to send out the Pagoda CD by snail mail, because I had encountered trouble sending it to the printer by e-mail.

The moped is running properly, so I sped home. I found Tamika walking around with her cellphone. She was on a break from working on her senior project, and talking to her mom. She walked with me back to Rafiki. I checked my messages, and Dad left a note that he would be arriving at about 4. Tamika and I dozed and chatted in the living room for a while; it had pretended to be summer again and it was warm. Tamika had got up to go, and my parents pulled up. I’m not sure what came first, but somehow she slipped past without meeting them.

In any case, I showed my Mom around Rafiki (she’d never been there) and then we went out to dinner. I took them to a little Vietnamese restaurant that Mr. Ho had taken me to a couple weeks earlier. I ordered Pho of course (the same thing I had cooked for Tamika’s birthday) and my parents ordered too. I ate with chopsticks of course, and my dad also picked up a pair and began eating.
Half way through our meal he commented that he had never used them before. I almost choked. He had picked them up like a natural, and was picking up single grains of rice with them. That had taken me a week. Needless to say I was greatly impressed. Not to be outdone, my mom gave a valiant effort at using them too, but resorted to her fork. She’ll be able to use them too if she practices.

We went to see Hidalgo after that at the AMC Hampden 8 theatre.
Like I said, it was incredible. It showed the battle of Wounded Knee River, and Wild Bill Cody’s circus as it really was. My blood boiled. I really loved that movie.

After we got out, my dad made the comment that he didn’t especially like how the Whites were portrayed in the movie; the supposedly Christian white woman was the badguy. But then I pointed out that (as much as possible) it was historically accurate, he agreed.

They drove me home, and tomorrow I’ll meet up with them to spend some more time.

I found Inya online.
The conversation was weird. At first it was light and humorous, we joked back and forth, but then became more serious, and maybe perhaps tense. I don’t know. And I’m not sure if it was more me or her. I feel like I’m having more pride in my heritage and my culture, and I don’t think that’s something that she’s used to. It’s weird. I don’t think she considered me to a person of “culture”, but I’m not sure. she seemed a little taken aback that I would be offended at anything she said.
I felt very strange, and decided to bid her goodnight. She found that strange and abrupt.

I’m more complicated than I thought, and yet still simple of character. This is puzzling, but I like it.

I need to talk to God some more.

Aloha

Francis Cabrel always makes me feel sad.

Had a meeting with Miss Deb today, though it was pretty short. She hadn’t recieved the videos yet, and so we decided we should set up a date to watch them and review them as a group.
I set up to have Tavis Smiley’s State of the Black Family to be watched on campus followed by a group discussion of several important leaders from the area. However, there are some sensitive issues that Femi Akinnagbe brought up in our last meeting, issues about how the 1st video in the series is directed towards black people, and showing it to white people would just be letting out dirty laundry.
It’s a good point, and one that needs to be discussed after fully reviewing both videos (Femi hasn’t seen the videos, and I’ve only seen the first). Me, Femi, Tamika, Breon, and Niambi are going to review them with Miss Deb on Tuesday.

My moped’s back tire has been sticking, and it was warm today, so after I checked my mail, I worked on the moped. I took the back wheel apart. I think it needs grease. I put it on better than it was before, but I think I need to realign it because the pedal chain is sticking slightly. I took apart the motor as well and cleaned off the carbon deposits. It was the first time I’d done it, I don’t feel so nervous about it anymore. Once I figure out how to do something on my own, I rarely forget.

I worked on the computer all day, pausing every now and then for a break and to check DA. I finished the SIFE report, and made some significant advances on my final project. I need to start flowing text in, I think I’ve got everything else done.

I’m going to be interviewed by ~ souljahsstory for his magazine he’s designing sometimes soon, I sent ZEn’s terms and agreements for his signature. He’s quite the budding graphics artist. I helped him along with one of his BBC projects he’s working on (he’s from the UK).

Collins Mwangi, Richard Arao, Gerald Mwangi, David Chebbet and Joseph Chebbet all cooked a Kenya dinner (Japates) for us tonight. Agtur Hutabarat, Fred Boutcher, Patricia Coke, Inya, Joanne Garde and Mipa Lee all came over to eat.

We watched Making the Band on MTV after that. Those people are so privileged and they act like such idiots. It’s so dumb.

I feel low class sometimes. It’s hard to find the fine line between being a savage and being regal. I want to be dignified and still be fun at the same time, and the only way I will be is if I stop worrying about it.

My parents are coming this weekend.
I feel so… disconnected from them. I think both I and them are letting this culture take hold in letting us become too busy. I never talk to them anymore. I miss them.
It’s weird to be around them sometimes, though, because I realize that even though they’re my parents and they went through the same culture shift I did, it seems a lot more sharp for me. They don’t see things the way I do, and don’t share the same values. I’m an activist, and I see that really not there in them. A lot of the things that stick out to me as racist or stereotyping they don’t seem to realize.
I still miss them a lot, though.

A gentleman savage. Interesting mix.