James

Logan Carbahal is the real James Provenza

Mon, 28 Feb 2005 23:21:17 GMT

I wanted to see if I was mentioned on Daviswiki.org when graham posted his link to it. So I searched for james ketchum and found an entry for Narwhal. Here is Narwhal's DavisWiki information:

"Narwhal is the new incarnation of the former band Cast-Iron Shore. It features DHS veterans James Ketchum, Rob Gianinni, and Logan Carbahal."

check it out here: http://www.daviswiki.org/index.cgi/Narwhal?action=highlight&value=james+ketchum

I don't care if you like him more, as long as you check 5 times that the oven is off before we leave

Tue, 15 Feb 2005 20:51:33 GMT

Yeah, so okay. So alright. Yeah, I'll explain why I am a nut case. I don't know if you understand. This will be the most detailed account of why I am crazy with OCD and the part of me you never really experience since none of you can come to my house.

So it all begins with my mom and her bad child hood (I guess it often starts like that) and her parents being very cruel to her or whatever. How much if it was just her perception and of it was actually her parents actually telling her she did everything wrong, I am not sure. But so I guess they always told her everything she did was the absolute worst, she should do much better, she was worthless (and my mom was a straight A-student who sat at home studying all day). The thing is, she has a brother who turned out fine, so sometimes I think my mom just took her parents critism much more personally then she needed to. Either way, so she developed these OCD habits from her seclusion and depression and has all this bad emotional association with her parents.

Now, skipping to when I was born it's 1986 and our house is clean, believe it or not. My Mom still has her OCD and depression but I guess for the most part she is very normal and it didn't get to her too much. A few months after I am born my grandpa (on my mom's side) dies and things get alot worse. It is also around this time my mom's parents move to davis (I think). Now I get to be 4 or 5, our house is still clean and we go and visit my grandma pretty often but everytime we get back from visiting her, my mom tells us we are contaminated and we all have to take showers when we get back. I am just 4, 5, 6 I don't know any better. I don't really get why I have to take a shower when I just went to my grandma's, but it's what she tells me to do. And it's like that till I am in about 7th grade I think. So in these developing years I believe that taking a shower will get rid of some none-existant contamination which isn't even rational to me (and I don't even understand) but like we don't want to drive my mom crazy by making her house, her sanctuary contaminated with us walking around un-showered from grandma's. Now, you may be wondering "well James, why do you have OCD when none of your siblings are crazy like you?" but they are-just not as much. Also, they were a bit older then me, and I don't think they had to do it when they were my age, I don't think my mom had developed this OCD step yet. But Julie and Josh both have a little OCD (Josh more then Julie actually), but Jeremey doesn't at all (but he was already 18 by the time it started to get real bad for my mom).

My mom also had other little OCD habits that wore off on me, like checking the lights and oven are off a bunch of times before we leave the house (though I don't do those specifically), and just like general contamination. Now, how our house got so dirty is when I was about 6 my mom started buying lots of boxes to "organize". Our house was clean, but it wasn't to her very high standards so she wanted to organize, but really these boxes just cluttered up the house. At first it was just a few sitting in the living room, eventually destined to be moved to the attic or garage (and when we got storage-to there too). What would happen though, is these boxes would be sitting in one place so long, they would get contaminted through contact.Like, maybe my dad goes out side and touches something my mom says is contaminated and touches the boxes, or someone puts something we brought home from grandma's next to the box instead of in the corner of the room never to be disturbed. So now what do you do with contaminated boxes that have to be gone through in a special-ocd safe way? I don't know, only my mom knows since it's her ocd, and so to clean we need HER to tell us. So to summarize-our house got dirty because we can't clean with out my mom, but my mom has a hard time cleaning because it's so overwelming, and she has so many problems that getting the strength to start cleaning is just a depressing thought to her. But if we cleaned with out her it would kill her since she thinks we would do it wrong.

Now there are times we have cleaned and gotten it back to a better condition, but it always falls back. The last time we had it almost normal was the summer between 9th and 10th grade. Josh, Jeremey, Myself, Megan and My mom cleaned the entire downstairs and our living room was useable again! It had been YEARS since I had a couch to sit on, or a space in the living room to walk in, other then a pathway that went to the stairs to go to the second floor. And our house was fine for a bit, but then the day of his arrival, Josh and i learn that Julies boyfriend is moving in. Julie had been slowly preparing to move into the attic so Josh could move into her old room (since I had taken Josh's old room in the brief period he moved out when I was in 8th grade). But Julie doesn't want patrick to see her gross room (which she had since she was born-and it was the old master bedroom) because she kept it so poorly. She quickly prepares the attic and she moves ALL the boxes from the attic into the living room (which from this point on is never to be restored-nor is an attempt ever granted) and she moves into the attic. Instead of going through the boxes and cleaning rationally she junks the living room. And from that point on the house decays...

Now this leads to me and my OCD. Well my OCD probably started showing up when I was eight or so. I started doing this thing where everytime I washed my hands and if I was barefoot I would have to slide my wet hands across the tops of my feet. I am not sure why, I just did! Then it got worse! If I was at home, everytime I washed my hands I would get in the tub and wash my feet too! WHY! I am not sure (actually it was probably some way to externally deal with the fact I had no friends at the time). But then, one time I was about to wash my feet, and my brother grabs me and says "Buddy [that was the only name Josh used for me till 8th grade-and I leveled up to James], what are you doing? You can't do this anymore!" And I freaked out, and he bear hugged me and told me I can't do this anymore and made me sit down and I just had to sit there till I didn't want to wash my feet anymore. And it worked! I didn't do it ever again. My ocd wasn't too apparent for the following years, I mean I would have a few things but I mean, I was alright. And although the house was kind of messy till that one summer of between 9th and 10th grade I was comfertable in the house for the most part. But then in 10th grade, when the house rapidly got worse and worse, I got worse too. I stopped walking downstairs barefoot (and still don't), and I had OCD habits again (which I don't remember exactly right now). I was glad to leave for NYU because I was pretty sure if I lived somewhere normal I wouldn't have to worry about OCD acting up because I wouldn't have anything to make contaminated in my mind. But I didn't have normal living conditions in NYU, my place was disgusting. Not nearly as bad as my home (well they were different, but still my house was worse), but my dorm was bad enough that I could develop OCD habits out of it. And I mean that isn't the only reason I left NYU, but it had something to do with it. Atleast at home I had my room which I always kept comfertable, but at NYU, even though I had a seperate bedroom from the living room and my slobby roommate, it wasn't a sanctuary from everything else. So I come home.

I am at home-current OCD status is critical. My house is as bad as it ever was, maybe a bit worse. Now the current OCD thing I worry about since I have gotten home from NYU is. Well, see I know it will sound ridiculous because even for me it is illogical, and unbelievable. But there is this broom that is next to the light switch of the Kitchen and is by the small little walkway that leads into the kitchen from the dinning room and just for some reason it embodies the entire contamination of the house (or alot of it). And even though I KNOW I never touch it, there is this passing thought that I rub against it every time I walk near it. I know I don't, and I know if I did it shouldn't matter, But I can't convince myself fully to not worry about it. It's like it itches my brain and the only way to scratch it is with my pre-ordained OCD rituals to remove the thought that I touched it. When I walk by it, sometimes I will stop, walk backwards, and walk past it a few times, even pause through my walk and see how far I am from it. At this current moment right now I have just given up on walking into the kitchen at all since it's too much for me to bother. The whole thing is irrattional, and makes no sense, not even to me. Which is what's hard about it. It isn't about germs, or bacteria. It's just about mental/emotional uneasiness. So like I am not sure how to fix it because I am not even sure what the problem is! It's just some none existant problem that has been placed in that broom! That broom! why do we have that broom! I hate it! And really, it's all just my own problems that I put into that broom. When I feel bad and am thinking "why doesn't anyone call me to hang out? Elena hates me! I have no future! I left NYU to go to SCC? I look like such a cave man! Man I was a dick for yelling at Rob and overreacting yesterday when all he said was my shirt was kind of gay." I can't convince myself I didn't touch that broom. I will walk by the broom, and see I didn't touch it, even do the slow-motion-walking bit and verify I didn't but I can't convince myself. Did I touch that broom? No! Yes! you didn't fucking touch that broom! YES I DID! NO YOU DIDN'T! YES YOU DID! NO I DIDN'T! THAT BROOM IS THE CENTER OF A SPIRALING VORTEX, A BLACK HOLE, AND IT DREW ME IN AND SPIT ME OUT INTO THIS REALM OF DISCOMFORT! Go, now James-quickly, and wash your clothes and shower-it will be fine. Stupid conditioning telling you that it will put your mind at rest, when really I know it won't make any difference to anything I really encountered. But when I am thinking "Oh, I am fine with this. I am just taking it easy, no worries. I am being productive in one way or another. Narwhal is quite satisfying. What good friends I do have. And even if I did touch that broom, who cares! GG Allin ate his own poop, so who cares if this broom embodies some weird non-existant contamination of your messy house", I beat the broom! I just walk by the broom, don't even need to double check, slow-motion-walk or anything. Well normally. I mean really I am the real problem. And that broom, and those bad thoughts are just the external ideas that I use to represent my own uncomfertableness. And even though I understand it all (or I think I do), I can't control it because it still is over coming. It's weird. So now I just don't go in the kitchen.

But let me say this-this account is not me whining, or anything. I am not complaining or anything, because really I don't even mind at this point. I am so used to it, and it's just how it goes. And nothing externally will really help. I mean even if everyone in the world praised me like a god, I would probably still find something that would make me think I touched the broom in this house. I think the only thing that would make the difference is living in a normal house where I am just at enough ease that there isn't some physical object I can manifest my problems in.

I don't care if you like him more, as long as when you're with me you take your top off

Mon, 07 Feb 2005 21:00:07 GMT

Last week I felt invincible, like some youthful Rock and Roll god, but today I realized how far I am from that. I am only 18 and my ability to be young and care free is already rapidly depleting. I fear I already am an old, caring (but obsessive), thoughtful, reflective kook. I was good at being young like a year and a half ago. And while I am already a 40 year old in a 12 year old's-18 year old body I have had my retreats to youth since my aging.

When I was at NYU and smoking a healthy amount of pot (3 blunts a day) I hadn't a care in the world. You could have nailed my hand to the desk and spit in my face, I wouldn't have even noticed. Alright, I am exaggerating, I had some cares, but they were all about saving the world and my soul being lost in eternity. None of them were personal. I didn't care a single bit about you, or you, or you. Alright, I am exaggerating, I never smoked that much pot. Infact I have never smoked pot-ever, or done any drugs. Alright, I am exaggerating, I have done a few. Actually I will now admit this (and no one from davis has heard this yet), but I smoked opium once in new york. Infact, I smoked opium once a week in new york for 2 and 1/2 months.

Okay I am lying, That entire paragraph was a big lie! What do I know, I'm just a kid. My only concerns, and I mean ONLY, are:
Does Luke turn to the dark side after episode VI?
how do you beat Vega!?
Who will ollie the 12-set first? Justin or Me?
The rest, like the girl I got pregnant last week, our show coming up this weekend, that girl I'm going to get pregnant next week- I could care less about. I have it all under control and I haven't lifted a finger in regards to them.

3/16th more powerful

Sun, 30 Jan 2005 21:51:23 GMT

I was driving home from my brother's house yesterday and this song came on the radio (No Reply) and it just makes John Lennon seem like such a desperate loser. Mcartney has his own version of the same song pretty much (You Won't see me). And then lennon has another song inwhich he sounds like a total nut, Run for your life. In the first two, they just sound like pathetic, desperate love sick losers. and in the later, he just sounds crazy, threatening to kill the girl if she breaks up with him (but he atleast he doesn't sound like some loser begging but is in control). I just think this is so weird because it's like, they are the beatles, and at the time of them having written these songs they were at the height of beatle mania, so where were they getting this stuff? From their teenage years? Just making it up and were so removed from society they didn't know what it was really like? It's just, they sound like such retards yelling at this girl "why don't you like me? I sat infront of your house, and saw you were home, but then your family said you weren't! I know your lying! I know! Don't lie to me! I watched you through your window! WHY DON'T YOU WANT ME!" like that will make her care. Don't they know anything? She doesn't like you, why don't you just get over it, it's not hard. And somehow yelling at her is going to make her like you again; seems illogical to me. I guess since I wouldn't ever get myself in a position like this I can't relate, so it's easier for me to critize these songs. But still, they sound pretty pathetic? Does anyone else know what I talking about? I am sure there is atleast one person out there who agrees with me about how feeble these songs are, and how stupid they sound in them? Right? One person? Probably more. I guess even the best do the worst sometimes.

Read This Part:

But on a more interesting note. Everyone should go to this Whysp, Adobe Girls, Al larson, Kevin Cocaran-Quaret, Narwhal show. Don't tell anyone else, but I heard from a member of Narwhal the drummer is going to do this sweet drum solo where he has a bag of drumsticks between his legs and just going crazy and at the same time is throwing drum sticks into the audience like a shower, but also drumming at the same time and THEN he is going to just backflip rightout of his drum throne-while sitting down! like, somehow the muscles in his back are 3/16th more powerful then a normal human's and he can jump from a sitting down position-not even using his legs, and is going to backflip right out of his throne into the SKY! Then, well that is the starting. This guy in a 10 ft Yan Yan costume is going to come out from off stage and start playing this rad guitar solo but you think that's the finale! Nooo, then the drummer lands back down from his mile high flight and lands ON the Yan Yan suit guy's shoulders! Then you think, "wow, that was amazing" and think it's the finale but then a 30 ft! Yan Yan bust comes out of the ground, behind the band, and his stomach is hallowed out and there are strippers inside! Holy shit! And that's not even the end-but I don't want to spoil the best part. But remember, I was told this in confidence by a member of the band so don't tell anyone.

Probably

Sat, 29 Jan 2005 18:54:18 GMT

Most people break down their heritage into percentages out of 100%. Today I discovered all Ketchums that have come after my Grandpa are more then a 100% of ethnicity; allow me to explain. If you could prove you were part native american in the 1920's, they just said you were 100% native american. My grandpa was only 25% native american, but they said he was 100% for legal purposes. So then, that makes my dad 50%, and I am 25% native american (although I should be only 6.25%). But then when you add up all the percetanges- 50%italian+25%irish+25%native american+18.75% of the assorted other stuff I got from my Dad's parents (Polish, German, Dutch, Mexican)=118.75% human! Does that mean I am some kind of super-human? Probably.

But what this means is my Grandpa is 175% and my dad is 150%. My grandpa used to always tell me he would wrestle bears and swim up ragging rivers, and I thought he was joking. But now I know he is the equivalent of 1 and 3/4 men in one person I realize he was serious. And that's why he can eat so much and stay so slender. He always said he had a hollow leg, but it's just he is eating for 1 and 3/4 people. I can eat a large amount too and stay skinny as I am, but not as much as my Grandpa. I am eating for 1 and 3/16th of a person.

Wed, 26 Jan 2005 21:47:50 GMT

Country Joe and the Fish are the real Grateful Dead

Sun, 23 Jan 2005 01:27:09 GMT

All standards are removed from this point. I don't know why you had to do that, you know it would bother me. But you said you wouldn't mind! Well I thought it would be obvious, regardless of what I said. Well since I have no more standards I don't care. I accidently ate some beef yesterday. My dad gave me some jumbalaya with it. I was pissed. That is the only standard I am going to hold:not eating beef. Aside from that nothing else is an issue. If I come to your house and put my fist in your tv screen, don't get mad because I'm just being the new blazedog. Oh yeah, that's my name now-blazedog. This guy in new york-he was a friend of my roommate. This one time we were in the living room and this guy comes in with my roommate. I was really confused. But he says "this guy" and points to me "i want you guys to hear this-and I bet this guy right here will know what it is". He puts it in and I stumble out the words "ha-grey album! it's the grey album (Let me add-I don't even like the gray album. Or I didn't, now that I have no standards it's fine). What's your name?" "See, if I had put money on this dude, i would get some money." "Hey man, what's your name? hhaha-I'm james." My roommate pouts "I knew it was the grey album too." "yeah well i said this kid would get it fist". "man what's your name!?" "call me blaze." So I am stealing his name. But "dog" has cleverly been added to the end, so I'm like snoopdog, but blazedog. And now you won't confuse me with that guy. Maybe that still hasn't affirmed how I have burst from my cacoon as the new wreckless one. but once I kiss your mom and break your little brother's nose for beating me in video games-then you'll know. When I break all your fine-china on my head and then eat some glass and pass out on your floor from all the blood in my stomach and you have to rush me to the hospital and I recover just fine-then you'll know. And when I then start eating handfuls of raw ground beef in the circus, and get mad cow disease and go crazy since the prions are eating the proteins in my own brain and I am just a feverish blob on a bed with ground beef crusted on my chin and around my lips, and vomiting because my body is shutting down, and the vessles in my face pop and I bleed all over the sheets, but then I roll off of the matress and still manage to crawl into your kitchen pull the chair out from under your father as he goes to sit down and he falls back and cracks his head open-then you'll know-and you'll be sorry for doubting how wreckless I can be.

The Life Aquatic

Thu, 11 Nov 2004 21:28:18 GMT

Last night I saw the new wes anderson film and then he came in and answered questions for us. I got to sit next to one of his personal guests who was like some hip-dude with blonde hair and torn jeans, riding a retro-skateboard. The movie was rad by the way.

Tue, 09 Nov 2004 16:34:00 GMT

On sunday I went to the WFMU record fair and a DJ from WFMU played this in the main room of the record fair while I was there. When I heard it I thought it was amazing (although it is just really well crafted pop), so go check it out.

http://archive.wfmu.org:5555/archive/BL/BL_Tom_Northcott_-_Crazy_Jane.mp3

Short Story one Entitled "The Unclean Spirits of Cloisters Apocolypse"-part 1

Tue, 09 Nov 2004 00:42:21 GMT

I sat down at the bar, and that gave her her que to follow. She stepped up and sat right next to me. She had lips that killed and a pair of stilletto heels to match. I decided it was my responsibility to initiate the conversation.

"so whats a dame like you doing in this part of town so late?"
She turned and smiled, like a snap shot of vigor, youth and beauty in an instance.

"I can handle myself. I served in the Vietnam war" she said.

I immediatly realized she was not entirely what I first percieved; A women she was, but young and beautiful-no. Infact, her statement was true, she had served in vietnam, and that placed her well into her fifties. and it showed strongly-even through the dim and smokey lighting. I didn't want to insult her by making it seem I didn't want to talk to her now that it didn't seem like she was young, and I knew how old she was. So I continued.
"So, as a former member of the armed services, what do you think of America's involvement in Israel" I asked.

"I wasn't aware of America's involvement in Israel" she said.

I was confused like a frog in a storks mouth; how could a women of her age be so oblivious to a current event of such proportions. I figured it would be best to cut the chit-chat; compliment her now as to allow us to slip up to my room as soon as possible.

"You know," I said admiringly, "your eyes host this mystical power to change color as you speek."

"Expectedly" she said, "It's because the sound waves of my voice are altering the light waves reflecting off my iris'. Since the sound waves of my voice are irregular, and constantly changing, the interference is irregular too."

...But she was Lying. Not because what she was saying was untrue but because she was not a women with eyes at all, but a pair of kaliedescopes deceptively slipped over the ridges of my eye sockets earlier in the day. It seems as though someone was manipulating them about, turning them, causing my vision to be a swirling vacuum of colors and shapes.

"What is the meaning of this!?" I exclaimed, as I jumped out of my trousers, striking my arms about to find the culprit.

So it's about this guy who knows he's a human, but he wants to be a dog...

Mon, 25 Oct 2004 23:35:26 GMT

So what he does is he starts shaving his body every day, and stuff until he is growing thick enough hair all over and then he just stops shaving and lets his hair just grow out. Wait I am confused. Why does he want to be a dog? That doesn't matter. Anyways, so then after he starts growing out his hair, and looking like a dog he stops wearing clothes, and convinces his best friend to start taking him on walks on a leash, and people are confused. They can't tell what is this thing on a leash. It certainly doesn't look like a dog but it doesn't look like a person either. Because this guy is hairy all over. Hairiest man ever. This is stupid, I really, I just don't understand why he wants to be a dog. And I can't like anything I don't understand. Alright,well he wants to be a dog because he is an idiot alright! I don't know why else he would want to be a dog, he just does. But why do I care if he becomes a dog or not? It's just stupid. No, it's interesting. It's about being something you aren't, and being in roles you weren't meant to fulfill. He's right you know. Huh? He's right you know. It's a stupid idea.What, where did you come from?The same place he did. Alright, well who asked you what you thought anyways. I still think it's a good idea.Okay, suit yourself, I am just giving you another outside idea.I think all of you got your head up your ass.What!? And who-are-you!? I am just another outside opinion. I personally think you are both wrong. I think the idea of a guy who wants to be something he isn't is perfectly fine. But who cares if he wants to be a dog. That is the schmuckiest idea I have ever laid my ears on. Show me a movie where a guy wants to be a Cat, and I'll for sure pay 10.50 to see that movie. That's something you don't see every day. Cat, Dog, who cares; I just used Dog because it seems like something people go for more likely. No, he's right. I kind of like the idea now. You know, with him wanting to be a cat. Fine, it's about a guy who wants to be a cat. Actually, can you make him a puffin bird?

Of Montreal was Pretty rad last night

Fri, 24 Sep 2004 01:37:49 GMT

After missing them three times, once every year since I first noticed them playing near any place I was, I finally saw them.

I showed this scary guy (my roommates friend) The Hungry Hippo. He didn't laugh during the entire thing, and after it ended I thought he was going to kill me. But instead he just stares into space, shakes his head and goes "that was nuts...crazy man, crazy. It was funny." and claps.

Tue, 21 Sep 2004 17:52:27 GMT

bellacose: because she is the prettiest girl in sacramento.
James Le Taxi: yeah.
James Le Taxi: but haha
James Le Taxi: that is sacramento
James Le Taxi: that's like saying
bellacose: hahaha.
James Le Taxi: she is the cleanest pig in
James Le Taxi: iowa
bellacose: hahaha oh my gosh!

Daddy, I want to play melodica ... ... No problem little boy !!!

Mon, 20 Sep 2004 22:25:07 GMT

Say Goodnight, Kevin. "Goodnight, Kevin"

Thu, 16 Sep 2004 20:14:13 GMT

"Hey, who is this I am approaching on the sidewalk. He looks familiar; in a way like Julian Casablancas, but not really. Oh, here I go staring right at him as I pass by him with in 2 feet. Who is that. There he goes, right past me. OH! That was Kiernan Culkin. Damn. I knew it was someone famous."

That was the day before yesterday just across the street from my dorm.

Wed, 15 Sep 2004 17:20:56 GMT

"Hey, are you famous?" she says from behind. Turn around, and it's this kind of petite blond girl, chewing some gum and smiling, "because you look famous"

"yeah" nodding solemnly, and crossing arms.

"oh really? I figured as much," interrupted by her own giggling, "so like" chew chew, "what do you do" smile.

"well I guess you can say I am a pseudo celeberity, self made."

"WOW! that's really cool." smile. "so, like" giggling, "what does that mean" giggling and smiles.

"Oh, well it means I tell people I am famous when in truth I am not, and because of my falsehoods about my own fame I evoke confusion and discussion, I become well known for it, and then a celeberity. If you follow."

"wow..." staring into space for just a moment. chew, chew. Looks up, "so like, what movies have you been in?" smiles.

James Ketchum on Travel:

Tue, 14 Sep 2004 15:25:35 GMT

I made a new friend yesterday in the laundry room.

Also while taking the elevator from the laundry room to my room there was a beautiful girl (the side of her nose pierced, whatever it is called) in there. I realize I often find girls with that piercing attractive, though I personally find the piercing to be very unflattering and wish they didn't have it.

I thought "The Future is Analog

Los Angeles, CA - The director of the non-profit Institute for the Future sees analog electronics dwarfing digital in 20-30 years. As heard recently on KPFK’s Digital Village, IF director Paul Saffo said the future is analog. “Digital does not disappear, but there is a whole new industry that is more focused on analog electronics, growing off of a very small base now, that in 20-30 years will probably dwarf digital electronics.” Saffo went on to explain why: “Today, computers don’t really do anything important for us. They just manipulate information and doodle with symbols and the like. What we are on the verge of is giving our computers primitive sensory organs - eyes, eyes, and other devices, if you will - to become aware of the physical environment around us. And the physical environment is not digital; it is analog. So, what you’re going to see is a world in which our machines will be sucking up more-and-more analog information. Initially, they’ll process it in digital form, but as time goes on, more-and-more of the processing will be done with new kinds of analog circuitry.” Digital Village, a program about now computers and the Internet affect our lives, can be heard in southern California every Saturday at 10:00 a.m. on KPFK-FM 90.7 (http://www.kpfk.org/programs/dv/). The Web site for the Institute for the Future is http://www.iftf.org ."

taken from http://www.laaudiofile.com/fyi.html was pretty interesting. Maybe some of you others will too.

I have had a bunch of weird coincidences occur since I have been in the city. I went to the flea market with a friend, and she looked at this one bag, then the following day the two of us were walking to lunch after class and we saw a girl on the street wearing the bag we saw at the flea market. And it wasn't some mass produced bag, so it was the girl who ended up buying the bag at the flea market after we looked at it. There was another incident involving a Vox Jaguar, but I won't get into it.

I was reading old live journal posts and I found. "I was playing mrs. pacman, and matt comes in suddenly, and i just spent my last token. Levi was over playing pinball, and matt went over there, so I decided to watch. I go over and lean against a pinball machine, and watch levi play. I am sweating because its so hot in there, and my game of mrs. pacman was REALLY intense. Anyways, so I look over and see these girls like talking and point over at me, I figure they are just saying "wow, that kid has curly hair" or something stupid. I go back to watching Levi play pinball, and then all sudden like six girls corner me against the pin ball machine. I notice all of them have braces, and their leader appears to be this tall blonde one, who spoke first.
"is that your real hair?" she asked. "yes" i said.
"Can we touch it?"
I didn't see why not. "sure" i said. Then the blonde one asks what type of music i listen to, indie rock i say, and she doesn't know what that is. Infact, at first she thought it was piggy rock, but she didn't know what that was either. But one of the girls, who was the cutest one said "oh, indie rock. It's like you haven't heard it, its underground", to her friend. And they made me name some bands. I said Built to Spill and Apples in Stereo since they are the most well known. They hadn't heard them. I figured they would know the postal service since they are trendy, and they had heard of them. I had to admit i didn't like them though. Then they asked levi and I about our tight pants, and then told us we had "nice teeth", which I thought was funny since all of them had braces. Then the one who knew what indie rock was said, "are you guys.. like... an item" and pointed to levi and I. I told her no. "definatly not" - levi.
"Oh my gosh, Haley, I cannot believe you just asked that!" the blonde one said. She got really embarrased and apologized.
Haley then said she just wanted to make sure we weren't. The blonde one apologized a few more times, and dragged them all away. Then they went away, but the Haley girl came back to properly introduce herself. THEN she left.
I left out a few details, but thats pretty much what happend." Entry. It was a while ago, but while I was reading it I seemed to have remembered the faces of the girls. Was it maybe Kasey (casey?), and Erika? There is a possibility it was. Sarah, Claire could you ask if it was them, that is, if they remember?

The Summer Trees
Will lose their leaves
and fall will follow after
but have some fun
watch wet hot american summer
and fill your days with laughter

The Master's Apprentice

Wed, 01 Sep 2004 16:55:45 GMT

Today I became real homesick. I guess I have been kind of homesick the whole time, but it really made me feel bad today. Last summer here, I never once felt homesick, but here it is, the 5th day away. I guess as I am here longer it will get better.

I think I am realizing college is a waste of time. You have these kids who come to college, and suddenly think they are artists and intellectuals just because they are at college. Really, it's not. A majority of them are just pampered rich kids, establishing themselves in a position to become richer. My life could be totally fulfiling, successful and enjoyable if I just lived with my parents, playing video games and dungeons and dragons. Maybe some drums too or something. I think it's time we all drop out of school, educate ourselves and enjoy life.

Return to the womb.

Whoops

Wed, 25 Aug 2004 19:35:17 GMT

I waited to long to buy the train tickets that were on sale for way cheap. I bought a plane ticket instead now, which was about 80 dollars cheaper then what the train ticket would now be.

Wed, 25 Aug 2004 02:15:32 GMT

I leave tomorrow morning from Emeryville at the train station. Then on the 27th I arrive in Chicago where I transfer for the train to New York. What a very long trip this will be. My brother left for Berkeley on the 22nd. It's sad to think that I won't ever live with him again, since he is 25, finishing college and such. I hope people come visit me out in New York, I often do get home sick. I got a cell phone for convience in the city. My number is 400-4962, so feel free to call me while I am on the train though I do not think I will get service east of Nevada and West of Wisconsin. I will be back in December.

On the 10th of July

Wed, 21 Jul 2004 20:25:55 GMT

I went to go get my sibilings from their individual jobs, purchase our father birthday presents. So we do that, and we are heading back home along Russelle. At Russelle and 98 (Cactus Corner) I spot a Mother on the front seat of a two person-cruiser bike, and on the back seat, her son who looked about 5 or 6. I pointed it out to my sibilings and said "Hey, do you guys know what would be funny about that?", refering to the mother and the child.

My brother chimes in with his answer, (and what he seems to believe I was thinking aswell) "Yeah! I know exactly you are thinking. If the mom is wearing this large smell containment diaper and no pants, and coming out of the back end of her diaper is a hose that feeds into a gas mask strapped onto the childs face, and the child has to continuosly smell the mom's farts as they ride."

"No!" I laugh, because I am not sure how he could expect anyone else to coincidentally come up with that bizarre scenario in their own mind; simletaneous to his own. "Did you really think that is what I had thought of?" And he did.

Thu, 24 Jun 2004 22:56:58 GMT

Dear Nintendo,

I recently wrote you (approximately one month ago), stating my dissatisfaction with your game "Gun Smoke", and have yet to see this problem addressed by your corporation. My concern this time though, is not involving "Gun Smoke", but another responsibility that falls on your hands.

As I stated in my previous letter that I have been a life long fan since the age of three. I enjoy many of your titles from "Yoshi's Cookie" to "Wario's Woods". I have been generally satisfied with your products and company proceedings until recently (where you have neglected to even acknowledge my letter), and I feel to make up for it you must correct this problem facing me.

In Davis, California, there are numerous dead birds plaguing Russell Blvd between Patwin Road and Aurthur. I feel that the maintenance of this road and cleaning of these dead birds falls on your hands, and you should promptly send a representative of Nintendo ltd. to collect these bird carcasses. My reasoning for this, is as I have recently become unhappy with your product "Gun Smoke", I have resorted to new past times which require me to ride my bike from my country home. My preferred route to town on my bicycle is along the safe and nicely paved bike bath of Russell Blvd. However what would be a pleasant ride is horribly spoiled by these dead birds. Yesterday, on the 23rd of June, somewhere between the time of 1pm and 2pm I observed eight dead birds. Only a few days before, on the 19th of June I counted exactly three dead birds. Most of them have been squashed by careless bike riders, many have been baked in the sun, and all are covered in ants. If I was satisfied with your game "Gun Smoke", I would be inside playing it and not riding to town. As I see it you should either meet my requests at fixing your game "Gun Smoke", or clean up these dead birds from Russell Blvd. Failure to take action will result in a subpoena from my lawyer.

Thank You,

Sincerely, Your Greatest Fan

James Ketchum

Thu, 10 Jun 2004 05:55:13 GMT

Dear Nintendo,

I have been a life long fan since the age of 3, and enjoyed many of your games from Mario Brothers to Mario Brothers 2. I am writing to you on behalf of my displeasure with one of your products, though. The game GunSmoke, made in 1988, based on the 1960's Western Tv show of the same name is quite entertaining, and I really do enjoy it. I have two complaints.

The first being that on level 4 you introduce the enemy of Ninjas into the game, and the wanted criminal of that level is a Ninja Master. I am quite confused by this move in the continuim of GunSmoke. Why exactly is there a mass army of Ninjas and Outlaws on "Death Mountain" in the old west? It seems so unfitting, it is unsettling.

The second complaint is about half way between the first and second sales woman on level 4 there is this ninja that pops out at the top of the screen and kills me really quick. I always die on him. He should not be there. He should promptly be removed.

I purpose you follow this advice if you wish to keep my bussiness: A mass recall of all existing Cartridges of GunSmoke, as well as all reproductions of the game in other formats. Then rectifying these two problems, the first by changing all the ninjas into mexicans and the ninja boss into Santa Anna (Santie Annie to Texans). To fix the second, I suggest reprogramming the game and removing that misplaced ninja (who should at this point be a mexican soldier). He is too hard!

Thanks for your time, Sincerely

James Ketchum

I used to really like this story, though I have not read it in ages

Wed, 02 Jun 2004 05:10:36 GMT

You are the fox.

Saint Exupery's 'The Little Prince' Quiz.
brought to you by Quizilla

I should just finish my paper on Allen Ginsberg, but I am looking for things to slow me down (like that stupid quiz), and now updating my live journal.

If the shoe fits, don't look the gift horse in the mouth

Mon, 31 May 2004 17:59:31 GMT

When I was younger, maybe 6 or 7, I used to put olives on four of my fingers and pretend they were The Beatles, and sing Beatles songs and bob my fingers up and down. My ring finger was George, the middle finger John, index finger Paul, and thumb as Ringo.

When I was 8 I was riding the mowing lawn mower in the field with my friend Neal. My dad had told me specifically not to ride into the thick brush surrounding our pond. So we were cruising around. I remember to control the speed, there was a lever that you could pull up or down. At the end of the slot for the lever when pulled all the way down was a tortoise, and when pushed all the way up it was a hare. We were heading in the direction of the pond, and I threw the mower into Hare speed, and we just set off right into the brush, and immediatly the mower got stuck. I don't remember if I tried to turn it off or what, but the thing started smoking. So my I ran and got my dad, and he dashed out there, and he grabbed the engine (I think, I can't correctly remember) with his bare hands, which was just about on fire, and carried it out of the brush into already mowed land and dropped it. His hands were blistered for almost two months. I always felt really bad about that.

Coincidently, Josh ruined our first riding lawn mower when he was about 10 by crashing it into our tool shed, and it caught on fire, and the side of the shed.

When I skateboarded, and was friends with Justin Wickwire, I used to spend the night at his house (or he at mine) just about everyday. I also would always have dreams about skateboarding, where I would be kickflipping or something. We would often sleep head to toe-head to toe in the same bed, and I would always kick him in the face. I suppose that isn't too interesting. There was this one time though, when I was probably like 6 or 7. Some car was parked "mysteriously" down the street infront of that grove of euctoliptist trees by my house (incase you have been by my house, for reference). I am not even sure if someone was in it, but my mom figured some guy was in there who was going to come kill everyone on the street or something, I do not remember the reasoning too well. My neighbors were at our house, Michael and Vicki, aswell as my sister. My mom advised we 4 children should go sit in the station wagon on the far end of the house (I am not exactly sure why that would be provide better security then the house). So we did, and I started thinking about how scary it would be to die, and I just started balling, screaming "I'm going to die! I'm going to die! I don't want to die!" and I really actually, somehow thought my life was going to end because some car was parked down our street. No one but myself was worried, not even Michael who was like 5 or something at the time.

I also sometimes remember times where I have honestly thought I was going to die, where I was hanging on the edge of a cliff, but I can't remember anytime where I actually was on the edge of a cliff. Although I did die once in a dream, and when I died I just sat in my lifeless body paralyzed, although I could still think-but I was dead. After I was dead for a few minutes I woke.