Monday, July 28, 2008

Smell the skin of this...

Smell the skin of this fruit, it smells like Mexican laundry detergent. listen

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Saturday, July 26, 2008

Jumping Off

I'm pretty sick of judging people. Gossip is horrible, too. I would like to officially step down off of my mile-high pedestal. I know there are many who are still gathering for gossip conferences high up in the sky, building taller and taller pedestals for themselves. If you ever see me floating around up there again, push me hard and back down to earth where I belong.

Sunday, July 20, 2008

Nuevo

Open Nuevo. When tract homes fill it up, I will weep.



video

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Simultaneous Bodily Expulsions

While penciling in the empty bubble next to the letter C on the test sheet, a girl gnawed a pen cap, a guy sneezed into his cupped palm, a kid screamed outside the door, and the teacher farted. It all happened simultaneously. Bodily expulsion in multiple forms, and these were only the blatantly noticeable audible and visual forms. I am sure there were plenty of other things occurring within my living zone (the place where I happen to be alive at the time), but, of course, they went unnoticed.

But when I think about the word "place" I then start to think, "when does a place's boundary end and a new place begin?" I could be at a school, or in a classroom, or in a chair, or whatever, but I could also be in the Milky Way Galaxy, on Earth, in the United States, in California, in the City of Riverside, on the RCC campus, in classroom 120, in the 6th row of desks, 2nd one to the right of the wall by the door. So, my living zone is really subject to how I define it at any certain point in my life.

Anyway, at this point, the place I was in was the classroom, and its boundaries end beyond the four walls.

After penciling in the answer, and hearing and seeing the various bodily expulsions, I began to think about what each person was thinking while performing, essentially, these actions.

The girl gnawing on her pen cap was probably thinking, "Damn, I should have popped open my book last night instead of seeing that guy who treated me like crap so that I wouldn't be in this helpless, indecisive state: A, B, C, or D?" She chewed that pen up for a good two minutes before making a decision.

The guy who heavily sneezed into his palm was probably thinking, "Damn, now I have a palm spattered with mucus and smelly, warm saliva and nothing to clean it up with." I saw him scan the room and, when he thought nobody was watching, quickly wipe it on the carpet underneath him. He continued penciling in answers.

The kid who screamed outside the door was probably thinking, "Damn, nobody is paying attention to me. I better scream so that somebody looks at me." I can't say what this kid did next because I didn't actually see him, but it's fun to imagine. Maybe he tripped on a rock and started crying.

The teacher who farted was probably thinking, "Damn, I didn't think that was going to be so loud. I tried to ease it out, but this plastic chair is unforgiving. I hope nobody noticed that. I am a woman after all. But I did eat a big, fibrous salad for lunch." Yeah, at least ten of us noticed the fart. I saw heads shift, but since we are in college now, we have the difficult social task and responsibility of not laughing at things that are still funny like farting.

I read the next question on the test, and on I went. It's just funny to think about things when everything is quiet. Anybody else do this, or am I just ridiculous?

Monday, July 14, 2008

Walden

So, after putting Thoreau's work off for so long, by suggestion of Levi, I finally started reading Walden and realized how much I relate to him. I might not be as extreme as he is, but, for the most part, I tend to agree with a lot of the things he says.

Here are some quotes I found interesting:

"I do not speak to those who are well employed, in whatever
circumstances, and they know whether they are well employed or not;
-- but mainly to the mass of men who are discontented, and idly
complaining of the hardness of their lot or of the times, when they
might improve them. There are some who complain most energetically
and inconsolably of any, because they are, as they say, doing their
duty. I also have in my mind that seemingly wealthy, but most
terribly impoverished class of all, who have accumulated dross, but
know not how to use it, or get rid of it, and thus have forged their
own golden or silver fetters."

"There are nowadays professors of philosophy, but not
philosophers. Yet it is admirable to profess because it was once
admirable to live. "

"We worship not the Graces,
nor the Parcae, but Fashion. She spins and weaves and cuts with
full authority. The head monkey at Paris puts on a traveller's cap,
and all the monkeys in America do the same."

"Most men appear never to have considered what a house is, and
are actually though needlessly poor all their lives because they
think that they must have such a one as their neighbors have. "

"Every generation laughs at the old fashions, but
follows religiously the new."

"I would rather sit on a
pumpkin and have it all to myself than be crowded on a velvet
cushion. I would rather ride on earth in an ox cart, with a free
circulation, than go to heaven in the fancy car of an excursion
train and breathe a malaria all the way."

Wednesday, July 9, 2008

On the Way to the Apple Orchard


The scenic route: a child's worst nightmare.

Today, I realized that I am the old man who enjoys the scenic route. I used to hate it. I used to think, "What a waste of time. Let's just get there already." This must be a crucial turning point in a boy's life, when he notices the beauty around him and wants to enjoy it despite the addition of many miles. Cliffs, trees, fields, flowers, dirt, buildings, and twisty-turny roads. It's great. Cathartic. Slowing down is a good thing in my book. Maybe I am too slow sometimes, but I do know that a lot of people need to slow it way down and just chill, enjoy the scenic route, and notice something outside the car window they wouldn't notice goin' 90 down the freeway.

Sunday, July 6, 2008

Prom Fundraising

The high school prom. That special night where thousands of students dress up all spiffy and spend a night out somewhere luxurious, really living it up.

I just found out something that completely BLEW ME AWAY: A high school prom could cost upwards of 100,000 dollars! I was floored. I had no idea. I had never even thought about it.

Let me break this down for you:

Let's just say 1,000 students spend 100 dollars for their ticket to prom. That equals $100,000.

Now, what if each of these students donated just 20 dollars to a good cause. That would be 20,000 bucks straight to a cause.

Even better, what if, somehow, a team of people collaborated with 50 high schools from each state in the USA. Each high school participated in this "20 dollars to a cause" event, and they still went to a sweet, glorious prom.

2500 high schools. 1000 students at each high school. $20,000 raised by each school.

If this little hypothetical situation succeeded a grand total of $50,000,000 would be raised and donated to a worthy cause. 50 MILLION DOLLARS.

The things we don't think about. One beautiful night out to most people, but this could change a lot of things. Just 20 percent of a ticket cost.

Saturday, July 5, 2008

In and On

Sometimes I sit "in" a chair, but other times I sit "on" a chair.

The connotation of the word in when used in the context of sitting is such an encompassing, comfortable, and personal word. To sit in a chair denotes a sense of familiarity. For example, "I sat in my favorite chair when I curled up and read Sherlock Holmes on a rainy day." To say on would possibly, and subsonsciously, give the reader or listener of the sentence a sense of unfamiliarity and coldness. A distance.

I do sit "on" a bench. The bench is often foreign and inexperienced. I sit on a bench because there isn't a sense of tranquility while sitting on a bench. There is nothing about a bench that sucks you in, draws you close. Most often I am on a bench only because I am waiting, usually impatiently, for something to take me somewhere more enjoyable. Although, I may enjoy a pretty scene or have a marvelous coversation while on a bench, I do not experience the same level of familiarity and comfort as I do while in a chair.

Now, sitting on a chair is similar to on a bench. When on a chair, I would not consider myself in a permanent state. It is usually a temporary buttock holder meant to serve as a tool, not a leisure device. I sit on a chair when I am asked to do a quick demonstration. I sit on a chair when I am giving guitar lessons. I sit on a chair when I am in an interview.

Now, we always sit in bed, don't we? Comfort? To the fullest.

"In" is a powerful little word. "I am in her arms. I am in his arms."It is such a personal, inviting word. To be in is to be accepted. To be in is to be near, warm, and close.

Glory Days

I ate hot dogs, threw around a baseball, sat by the pool, drank some ginger beers (Bundaberg: it's Australian and delicious!), watched fireworks, and saw the small town parade. I am not sure I could have had a more American time today. Classic fourth. I also bought myself a new domain name: www.jefflocke.net

It just forwards you to this blog, but hey, I might as well jump on the ".net" before some other Jeff Locke sheister forces me to settle with ".biz" or ".info" or something lame. I've already been stripped of the coveted ".com." Six bucks for that. Not too shabby. I should probably frequent my bloggio a lot more now, though, seeing that I have a more legitimate domain name now.

Wednesday, July 2, 2008

Girl Problems

All of a sudden, pissing on the floor is perfectly normal and acceptable.

On the sidewalk. On the tile. And worst of all, the carpet.

She sits there by the window all day waiting and watching, eating and drinking, and of course, pissing.

I woke up last night and stumbled down the pitch hallway for some water. Dampness underneath me. A nice pool of warm urine met my bare soles.

The other morning, as I was waking up, I felt a patch of wet bed sheeting and noticed that my lower back was also moist. She pissed in my bed! And she just left it there to stagnate! The nerve of this girl.

She comes crawling into my bed when I am fast asleep and leaves her mark before I even know she was in bed with me.

Maybe she has a bladder infection. Maybe she is embarassed. Maybe that's why she ignores me all day, and sits inside just looking out the window waiting to catch some kids ruining her garden, or just plain trespassing. She must relieve her embarassment by chasing down these kids like a crazy beast.

This is certain: my dog, Nicky, is pissing all over the place and it needs to stop. Senile old woman!

Phone out. Phone in.

Pull out your cell phone. Quickly glance at it. Put it back in your pocket.

Realize that you meant to check the time, but you merely pulled it out because it's your nervous twitch, your constant ritual. You didn't even process the time. You are no better off. You have learned nothing new. Not even the present hour and minute.

Modern rituals:

Phone out. Phone in. Phone out. Phone in.

Open the fridge. Stare blankly. Shuffle some condiments. Close the door.

Chew a finger nail. Rip. Flick.

Change the channel. Scroll. Change. Scroll.

Sign in. Sign out.

Nothing accomplished. Nothing learned.

About Me

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I am recent graduate just looking at the dirt, writing about it.