Observations on a Chibi (The Aussie)

chibi, n.
1. Japanese A "short person" or "small child." The word has gained currency amongst fans of manga and anime. Its meaning is of someone or some animal that is small. It can be translated as "little," but is not used the same way as chiisana (tiny, small, little in Japanese).

2. N. American A gremlin, stinky, self-manufactured crackhead, college roommate

The Chibi (smidgetus africanus) originates from TZ on the east coast of Africa and has been in existence for 20 + years. The odd one in a family of 4 daughters, the chibi seems to have been the product of a mutated gene strain that makes her prone to lush-like behavior, intentional politically incorect dialogue and psuedo hyper-sexuality.

Personal Observations:

Fall '05 - Spring '06
First sighting of the Chibi was 09/05 Room C of W36. She believed herself to be among giants when she first encountered my family and myself (all of us of the altus negrus species) and approached us with a fearful timidity befitting her stature. The chibi appeared to be of a species with which I would be able to effectively communicate and soon after meeting the other species of W36, the chibi and I decided it would be best to occupy the same quarters. At first we encountered some differences of opinion due to previous cultural experience. But the Chibi proved to be the most interesting, tolerant, enjoyable, and sane of the W36 species set and she quickly became the person with whom I spent most of my time. By the end of the year, the Chibi and I decided to remain rooming companions for the upcoming year.

Highlights: The Owl the first week, blankets, W dirty sex, the futon, gimme dat, lion king alarm, porn and expresso (so wasn't there for that one), reach out and touch, corners, potato/vodka, xmas lights, 5 people 2 beds what?, disney girls, school house rock (3 is a magic number)

Fall '06 - Spring '07
The year began with a relocation of living quarters to the land of the quadlings. The room was substantially bigger and the Chibi and I were fairly satisfied. However this made waking each other from sleep exponentially difficult. Hence the practice of object throwing was invented. It started with the shoes. The Chibi and I did not have as many interactions due to scheduling conflicts, extracurricular activities and different choices of recreation activities but the love was still there...especially when finals came around.

Highlights: shoe bucket, next day recap, movie night, 300, south park, hall window, gchat, whitfield, Halloween (nun, school girl, cop, detective), new york, dreamgirls, promise video

Fall '07 - Spring '08
The first year the Chibi and I technically lived apart though we were still connected through the bathroom. Which also meant the first time we could independently control the room tempature. There was tropical storm in the bathroom everyday, apparently Chibis work best in tropical conditions. The sembiotic existence was extremely solidfied and the system of interaction became automatic. We also learned a very valueable lesson in how not to bite off more than we can chew. The second half of the year we were unfortunately (for the world) left alone to influence each other without outside guidance. 'Twas an "interesting" time in life and many boundaries were blown to bits. Was also the first year the Chibi was classified as the Chibi.

Highlights: T4, blow-out #1, boy-translation, theories, "interesting", planets, relationship book, monsoon in the bathroom, off campus, alternative taxis, barcelona, san sebastian, diseased child, gremlin, blockbuster, hostile takeover, shirts, double trouble, post-it note wall, tip shoes

Fall '08 - Spring '08
This is the last year the Chibi and I will be spending together. We have grown quite accostumed to and comfortable with each other. Somehow the strange relationship has gotten stranger and there are no signs that it will be returning to normalcy any time soon. There are doubts as to whether it will be possible to live with another species after living so long with a thing like a smidgetus africanus.

Highlights (so far): justice book, esl, respiratory, Palin, Fables, Ruby-syndrome, Aussie, rexy/lemmie, VH1 addiction, MVDVDs...

(belated) Good luck on your midterm Cheebs!
-The Aussie
Mogwai Sorry Song (stop denying your people!)
Gizmo
Gremlins

Bubble Fish Notes (The Doodler)

Jesus Saves, I Spend
St. Vincent
Marry Me

The AA Advertising Experiment (The Analyst)

What do you think of this picture? Without the context, what is your first reaction? Well I took an informal poll with my crazy...eclectic...friends and this is what came out of it. (Any updates I'll post them later

me: how?... i know it's physically possible because she's doing it but what are all the technical aspects of that body position and can it be done by an average person, hence staring for 3 min. (and the answer is yes. it can be done by an average person. i made cheche do it... even though she claims to be completely non-flexible... i got her to do a elbow triangle inversion thing too where she almost touched her head with her feet but that's another story)

chibi: ooooo pretty... can i have it as a desktop?

cheche (chibi's sister): THAT is impossible... are you sure it's not photoshopped?

isadora & alayaka (blockmates #3 & #4): this ad is pointless. nobody would ever wear that. men are stupid for thinking that's realistic.

tvu: its degradin. say its pretty messed up. why r her legs opened...but actually its becomin more common in fashion advertisin. these crazy positions. i would question whether she is a dancer. but im aware of how sexist the media is.

heartstocking: I just don't get why the leg is necsssary. haha. like it's not even sexual to me. it ruins the entire composition.

gmdbj: naturally, i feel obligated to be like "man, that's exploiting women and has nothing to do with the product"
but the ad is hot

littlebrother: instantly reminded me of this http://www.panopticist.com/graphics/hustler_june_1978.gif

Of course in Hootenanny today I overhear a whole conversation about AA taking the "sexuality" out their magazine and making their whole advertising strategy revolve more around family-friendly images to appeal to the "gap buying" demographic of yuppie mothers who would like to take their kids shopping with them.

Which, in turn, links to the entire conservative trend of advertising, media, and programming that has been steadily rising since 9/11 to provide a means to obtaining a sense of security through the image of a "wholesome" american lifestyle. Then there's the new teen image where it's cool to be the invisible, non-rebellious kid who ultimately succeeds because they play by the rules (Juno, Nick and Nora... there's more coming...just wait for it) or the "new man" who is allowed to feel and ultimately wants a stable relationship which will lead to a family (dude-flicks.. chick-flicks for guys, started with wedding crashers most recently made of honor... don't worry they're going to be getting chickier in the next few years).

Great ad. Sex sells and it definitely caught my attention. But then again, I think they should legalize prostitution.

-The Analyst
Seduce Me Tonight
Cycle V
Flashdance Soundtrack

Light Star's Light Star (The Addict)

So I did a make your own mad lib poem online... this is what I got:

light star's light star

"I dances my paints and all the killer twirls candy-coated;
I kissed my fires and all is yearn again.
(I love I dances you up inside my mars.)

The marker go liveing out in charming and drunk,
And special paint twirls in:
"I dances my killers and all the fire twirls candy-coated;

I kisseded that you yearned me into mars
And love me busy, dancesed me quite candy-coated.
(I love I dances you up inside my mars.)

sister twirls from the marker, paint's killers kissed:
Exit fire and president's mars:
"I dances my killers and all the fire twirls candy-coated;

I yearned you'd love the way you said,
But I dances old and I twirl your name.
(I love I dances you up inside my mars.)

I should have killerd a fire instead;
At least when mars kisseds they yearn back again.
"I dances my killers and all the fire twirls candy-coated;

(I love I dances you up inside my mars.)

- The Writer & Sylvia Plath

Create Your Own Madlib on LanguageIsAVirus.com


Can we say...hot mess?

Pieces of My Heart or the Random Theory of 3 (The Canvas/La Pensadora)

Earlier this summer something happened with that brought about my thoughts about love that brought about this tattoo. Somehow (I know, but you don't need to... not just yet) my theory of three came up again, I was forced to really think about what I was saying, and I decided that it was something I had to believe in to truly have faith in the undefinable concept of love.

This theory started a long time ago when I saw a very interesting movie called A Bronx Tale. Directed by Robert DeNiro with a bunch of big, bald Italian dudes that were Sopranos stars before The Sopranos even existed, A Bronx Tale is no where near the category of being one of my favorite movies. A basic story of "growing up Italian in the Bronx" without any real drama, action, or subplot with heavy-handed "morals" about staying in school, staying true to yourself, and love knows no color, this movie was one of those B-movies that got pushed to 10pm Sunday night tv slots and Walgreens shelves never to be seen or heard of again. (Yes I saw it on tv at 10pm on a Sunday. Yes I bought it at Walgreens for $7.99...on vhs...anyway) In the grander scheme of things, it's a cute movie and there was one message in it that stuck with me as soon as I heard it: there are three people you fall in love with in one lifetime. Now I don't exactly know if some Italian boss named "Sonny" actually took aside a young Robert De Niro and dropped this gem on his seventeen-year-old head or if it was just a cute plot contrivance but somewhere along the way my head made sense of it and now it's here to stay.

So here's my version of the rule of three:

There are three potential people you fall in love with within one lifetime, two of which you love more than they love you and one person who you're also one of their "three". Now, I'm not talking about the "OMG I <3 YOU!!" love, the "Yea, love you too" love, the "I think...I may be in love with you" love or any of that other nonsense people psych themselves into believing is real because they're tired of waiting for the real thing. Now my definition of love is and always will be strange (like many other things). My definition of love is painful. It involves a commitment beyond all understanding, no matter what they say, no matter what they do, no matter how bad it gets you are better with them than you are without them. That is not to say that love can't be good, fun, or happy but when the chips are down you know that's the one person that's going to make everything okay without having to do anything but exist.

So that's why I got the tattoo to remind me that there are three people out there that I'm meant to be with. The three major puzzle pieces that will make up the majority of my heart. Hopefully (hopefully) I haven't found one...or two of them yet and even if I have, then it means I still have my one or two...or three) pieces left that out of the 3 billion in the world are meant for me. Hopefully I'll meet all of them some day. Hopefully not at the same time :) On the other hand, it's a little reminder for me to not sweat the people that don't matter, the people that'll never own a piece of my heart. Now about telling my mother I got another tattoo...before I go home...

-The Canvas / La Pensadora
Ready for Love
India.Arie
Acoustic Soul

Culpable (The Poet)

i apologize...
for asking you to give in
to the indelible energy
emanating from you and me
shocking us into silence
with every encounter of
close proximity
when you were not
entirely available

for seducing your mind
presenting possibilities
of a tangible forbidden
hidden from the norm
under my tongue
where secrets begin to form
betraying the lies
that lie within

i apologize...
for giving myself so freely
tempting your senses
with the option of
"why not?"
when "why would?"
was the correct question
that you neglected
to bring with you to my doorstep

for actually
when actuality might have
surpassed our reality
of worlds colliding
sparking fireworks
burning in minute increments
springing from our origins
erasing the option of other

i apologize...
for letting go
floating on unspoken promise
reading between wishes
when you were drowning
in socially-manifested guilt
blind to the clouds above
hints falling on deaf senses
while fates laugh at human folly

for sinking into your submission
instead of saving myself
from my web of fables
spun in spite of past experience
forgetting that too often
passion's flames falter
when wells run dry

i apologize...
for adding you to my baggage
to my collection of broken dreams
paper wings pinned to my story board
serving as the latest landmark
another lesson in cold distance
applied to afflicted emotions
that continue to die a little more
killing kindness in its wake

-The Poet
Secret
Maroon 5
Songs About Jane

Red, Yellow, Green, Orange, Blue Blue Blue (La Trabajadora)

Coming into this whole reunion job thing I was looking forward to nothing but a bunch of Harvard alumni spoiled brats and a paycheck at the end of the week. Get in, do the kid thing, get out, get paid. There was no way I could have known that this was going to be one of the most defining experiences of my college career.

The kids were amazing in so many ways. Of course there were a couple of cases of kids that made me want to tear my ears off and never-ever-ever-ever want to reproduce. But the kids that I worked with in blue group were kind of this little microcosm of Harvard students before they start worrying about their gpa's, extracurriculars, test scores, parental expectations, and their "futures". It was as if going to Harvard was just something you do, a given, and there wasn't any doubt that they were going to be here within the next 8 years.

Day One: Met the kids and found out that between Ying Ying and I, we had a group of 8 smart jock children from everywhere who have unlimited amounts of energy. They were also way too cool to do anything like play "Where the Big Wind Blows" with a bunch of eccentric kids in khakis and overzealous novice counselors who think that talking louder, slower, and in a high-pitched voice will make twelve year-olds like them. They were happy playing soccer in the hallway on the 2nd floor of Sever and I was happy making sure they didn't kill each other.

Day Two: Went to Canobie Lake, one of the dinkiest amusement parks in America. Of course for every ride there would be 2-4 kids out of eleven that "didn't do" those type of rides so the counselors had to switch off every ride. I talked more about football , hockey, rugby, boxing, basketball, and American football more in those times than I have all semester with the Argentinian kid who hosts the Crocs at his house every year (wtf?!). (He also told me that I knew he was coming to reunions this year and I stayed just for him...it was fate). Then of course all of the kids found their way to the candy store the last 30 minutes of the trip and collectively bought about 20 lbs of sugar to eat on the way back to the bus...which they finished on the way back to the bus. I even got to bond with one kid over severe allergies. He has a massive allergy to eggs and as he started licking a HUGE jawbreaker, that he wasn't convinced was just a massive ball of sugar, he turned to me and said "If I die, I'm sorry" and unfortunately I completely understood where he was coming from. After 3 two minute checks of death symptoms he then proceeded to wake me up six times from six seats away on the ride back to show me every time the jawbreaker did something...like change color... as jawbreakers tend to do. After they got to see an omnimax movie about the Grand Canyon that I unfortunately didn't get to see because we were an hour late and there wasn't enough room for the counselors (yay 1.5 hours of uninterrupted thesis reading!).

Day Three: Also known as DAY FROM HELL. Whale watching (sounded boring)...open candy bar(bad idea)...terrible weather... big waves (they were fun at first but after the first 15 min, not the best look)... lots of barf, everywhere. And of course, instead of turning the boat around immediately we went an hour out onto the Atlantic and therefore had to travel an hour back. I can now honestly say I've seen people turn green when they're sick. But of course the best part of this trip was one of the kids, not my kid mind you, having a huge anxiety attack. He couldn't stop shaking and ripped apart two plastic cups with his bare hands, at the same time. That was the scariest experience I've ever had working with kids and I hope it never happens again. For dinner, Harvard catering decided to put out cans of whipped cream and fruit for dessert. One of my kids had 4 cokes and two bowls of whipped cream for dinner... and there was nothing I could do about it. BUT then we went to see an exclusive Boston Pops concert that was especially done for Harvard alumni which made up for everything and made me realize (once again) the power of the Harvard name.

Day Four: Field day. A completely unstructured bad version of a carnival that lasted from 10:00am til 4pm. I spent most of my time talking to the other blue group counselor about the differences between the Asian and Black communities in America. Then it was dinner and party time where the counselors had far too much fun and the kids looked at us like we were crazy. Highlights: realizing that the Titanic song came out when these kids were 2 or younger, trying to make my dancing style G-rated instead of NC-17 (yay bellydancing dvd!), seeing the saddest attempt at the Cupid Shuffle I've ever witnessed in life, my little Louisiana boy establishing himself as the cool kid because he listens to "rap music", and (best one of the night by far) the dj playing "I Kissed a Girl" and all the kids suddenly having the urge to go outside.

Working with these kids made me think a lot about what it's going to mean to be a Harvard alumni and what kind of existence I could potentially have. These kids were educated, spoiled, and worldly at the age of 12 but they were also regular kids with regular problems questioning things like where they fit in, how cool they came off to everyone else, and how much they wanted their parents to be involved with their lives. I can honestly say it may have been one of the most interesting weeks of my life... and maybe I'll see one or two of them at my 10 year reunion and they can babysit my rugrats (which I promised them would happen). BUT (and this statement is the most important of all) I must reaffirm my vow...Whatever happens, I WILL NOT BE A TEACHER, I WILL NOT BE A TEACHER, I WILL NOT BE A TEACHER. :)

- La Trabajadora
Green With Envy Blues
Professor Ludwig Von Drake
Disney's Wonderful World of Color

El restaurante (The Poet)

Cuando llegaste,
Leiste un menú que dijó:
“Esto es lo que es,
No lo permitimos sustituciones ni devoluciones.”
Si hubiera sabido que no pudiste leer,
No te habría pedido sentarse.

Yo di mis piensas para beber,
Entraron la garganta
Y regresaron al mundo
Con su nombre dentro de cada palabra.
Si hubiera sabido que las destrozarías,
Habría guardado tu ignorancia.

Yo di mi fidelidad como tapas.
Comiste todo sin discreción.
Y cuando terminaste,
Pediste más que de lo podría dar.
Si hubiera sabido que no pudiste darme lo mismo,
Habría limitado las raciones.

Yo di las manos para el primer plato,
Y tocaste con curiosidad.
Pero cuando eran dentro de las tuyas,
Tu miedo te puso enfermo.
Si hubiera sabido que no pudiste entenderme
Nunca habría probado mi suerte.

Yo di mi cuerpo para el segundo plato,
Pero me dijiste que tenías alergias.
Y no pudiste comerla carne
Bastante rara, bastante nueva, bastante oscura.
Si hubiera sabido que solamente comías el pan blanco
Le habría dado a los lobos lo que estaba afuera.

Serví el corazón para postre,
Pero no lo quisiste.
Me dijiste que estabas a dieta,
Que no tenías espacio para amor.
Si hubiera sabido que eras una pérdida de tiempo,
Nunca habría abierto la puerta.

-The Poet
Tus Desprecios/Cobarde
Selena
Amor Prohibido

Chasing Tyler (The Artist)

Tyler: teaching assistant/performance artist/lunatic.

Let me start this by saying I have never met Tyler. I've heard about him. I've read about him. I've seen him. But I have never actually met Tyler.

When I first saw Tyler he was dressed in this 19th century get-up complete with waistcoat, silver-rimmed glasses and huge bushy beard (which I later learned is laboriously pasted on every morning). Soon after, Nancy (my wonderfully boisterous, half Jewish half Polish (?), Detroit born, ex-polka player drawing teacher...yea I'll be writing something on her soon) explains to the class, "Tyler is Gustave Courbet this year! Well it certainly is a change from the whole zebra thing, THANK GOD! Did I tell you about the time that Tyler and I went to a restaurant..." As Nancy finished her story about zebras, artists and bad waitresses, I turned to one of my classmates to find out exactly what Nancy meant by "this year" and "zebra". Though she didn't have much more information than I, my questions were answered two weeks later in an article on Tyler that I found in one of our campus newspapers.

Tyler is in the sixth year of his performance art project. Every year his wardrobe takes on a different theme that he somehow faithfully follows for 365 days. It first started as a project in his last year of college when he decided to become the Pink Panther for a year. Tyler dyed his whole wardrobe pink and whatever he couldn't dye was thrown out...and so it went.

Year One: Pink Panther- all pink all the time.

Year Two: Clothes bought by other people- Tyler gave about $545 to 4 different faculty members at his school and asked them to buy his wardrobe for the year (one person actually bought all women's clothes).

Year Three: Catholic School Uniform- Tyler went to Catholic school for a big portion of his life and his uniform was red, blue, or white polo and khakis (he started this one on the fourth of July)

Year Four: Clothing only bought at thrift stores- Self-explanatory...personally I think this one is a complete cop-out.

Year Five: Tyler the Zebra- black and white striped...everything and a floppy black mohawk.

Year Six: Gustave Courbet- 19th century painter that Tyler admires. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gustave_Courbet (I had to look him up)

So why do I care? Because Tyler is an artist and he's crazy. I'm an artist (or I'd like to be one soon) and I'm crazy and I happen to love a challenge. I've been thinking about Tyler and his project for a while and I've been wondering how hard it would be to wear the same thing everyday for an extended period of time. I've already been known for my duo-chrome style palette so how hard would it be to drop it down to just one? I took my time, talked it over with some people, and made the decision to follow in Tyler's footsteps this summer. I will be wearing black everyday for the next two months. So far it's been pretty difficult seeing that my monetary situation does not match my ambition but hopefully that'll be taken care over the next couple of weeks. Besides, now I have a legitimate excuse for blowing all of my paycheck on clothes... it's just one of the sacrifices I have to make for my artwork ;) .

Until Next Time,
-The Artist
Back to Black
Amy Winehouse
Back to Black