There are days you just break the best thing you have.

Back in the day before Tito was a crackhead disappointment, he taught us how to play basketball. Everyday after school was spent ballin in the backyard. Lay-up, free throw, three pointers, change. "Chang Chang, baby, gimme my change." They'd have to call us in three or four times to come in and eat, because we'd be playing that long. "After this game, Tita." And then after dinner, we'd go back to the ball, but not for long because we'd get cramps. And every party for years, there would always be a "tournament." Me and Gerald against Bryan and Tito. Or sometimes my dad would play, and of course, I'd get super mad if we lost or if we were losing because I hate losing to dad. Sometimes my dad and I would play in our backyard. I'd always lose, sometimes I'd come up with some good moves though. Jook him here, fake a shot, pull back, pull up, shoot...score.

Anyway. Tito used to always say something to me, that is always in my head to this day. I guess I convinced myself that I had good days and bad days. It's the ball, it's flat, I'd say. Or...these shoes suck. Or...the hoop is crooked. But Tito would always say "Don't blame other things." And I'd finish it in my head "It's you." And I always think of it. I spent those days...waiting for good ones, waiting out bad ones. It's not circumstance. It's me. His words stuck in my head. Teaching me, encouraging me, always giving props when a sweet shot was made. That's the Tito I remember. And telling me...inadvertently or whatever...I am responsible for what happens to me. I can trick myself, convince myself--whatever. I have the power to change my game.

Action is harder than saying that you'll do it. My dad knows this because he always tells me because I always promise him I'll do shit. And he always reminds me that I don't do it.

Today in the elevator, it was weird. Felt like a joke again. You know how I say life is a joke? It felt like a joke. First time I was going up from moving my car, I was just wearing a t-shirt, a girl was all bundled up lookin like she was going to Antarctica, and there was a cable man who seemed a little too nice. He made a joke about her like it was really really cold outside. Second time, I was coming down with all of my stuff. This Asian kid had all this hockey equipment, this really tall man was carrying trader joe bags, and I had a purple and green polka dot laundry bag and my duffel. Held the door open for them. I don't know...guess if you were me, it'd seem like a joke.

I couldn't sleep last night. I slept at like 11 something...woke up at 4:30...tossed around for a while, then grabbed my computer at 5:30...surfed. Blah. Put it away because I heard Emma tossing around...tossed around for a while more...didn't sleep until I don't know when. Ugh.




Look. Simpler days. We're kids.

March 25, 1995. Wow.






Blog 9 8 8. I-love-you o'clock. good day everyone. Don't let the hail catch you.