me: what you know about commercial paper?

e: not a whole lot
very similar to cash... or a CD

why?

me: government purchasing commercial paper to aid in "bail out"

e: so here's my understanding of commercial paper

big name companies, usually financial institutions, use it as a short-term borrowing tool
so think of a company like... Lehman Brothers, for example, issuing something like a 3-month CD
the CD is actually commercial paper... and Lehman leverages the money they get for their operations

whoever buys the commercial paper (usually big institutional investors like money market funds since CP's are considered relatively low-risk) are due the principal + interest when the CP matures

just like how a CD operates

me: yah

e: but... if a company like Lehman is unable to make good on the CP when it matures... the value of the CP on the open market suddenly drops significantly

which is what happened with all of these firms being over-leveraged and the on-set of our current credit crisis

and alot of these companies rely so much on short-term borrowing

so essentially, the govt wants to step in and buy up these CP's acting as the short-term lender to these companies

and then there are asset-backed CP's... which are CP's that have a pool of asset-backed securities used as collateral... mtge crisis has rendered the asset-backed securities worthless

meaning that those ABCP's are 'guaranteed' by worthless securities

me: so basically...

banks have no money.

banks going bankrupt.

government = new bank.

e: exactly

me: woot woot

COMMUNISM HERE WE COME!

e: hooray

let's move to Canada

Still can feel you kiss me love / Still can see your brown skin shine...

Dear You,

I'm not sure who I am writing to. Perhaps it is for the people that hurt me in the past. Or maybe it's for those I have hurt recently.

It's been a strange month. On top of dealing with my own romantic mishaps, I was fielding calls from multiple friends trying to talk them off the ledge of their own circumstances. Maybe the heat is making us a little crazy and the remnants of the always-too-indulgent summer are being stretched into what is supposed to be autumn. Regardless of the cause, there is a lot of heartbreak and confusion in the air.

For once, I can't claim myself the victim. I've now been placed in the interesting position of being the perpetrator.

I've hurt someone I care deeply for, despite the fact we haven't known each other very long. He is someone that reminded that good-hearted and generous people still exist in the world. His kindness is completely natural and actually even makes me feel ashamed of my inability to be that good. It may not be apparent to most people, but he contains a type of inner-strength that is not displayed by many people his age. He's learned to forgive people for the gravest errors with an open heart and learned to believe in change. He can take abuse and hurtful words, without so much of a flinch, and turn back around and still be supportive and loving. Most of the time he looks happy-go-lucky, as though he isn't thinking about much beyond the task in front him, but like most things, his exterior is deceiving. His mind is constantly busy with thoughts of his friends, his family, his life...
I hurt him by pushing the boundaries of his kindness and generosity. I exploited the very things that drew me to him and that I have come to endlessly respect. I tested the number of times he would forgive me and the things he would forgive me for. I'm testing him even now, offering myself as a friend, when the last thing he might even want or need from me is my friendship.

And now, I find myself in the situation of possibly repeating my mistakes, mistakes that I made only a few weeks ago.

You see, I have a cycle. A very predictable and a very sad cycle.
No matter how wonderful or terrible the individual in front of me, they get three weeks. After three weeks, everything comes tumbling down. My expectations of the other grows exponentially-- anything less than perfect is unacceptable. Perfect means being appropriately attentive and independent, being available on a whim without appearing overly eager; it means being both loving and cruel. I guess I put a whole new spin on wanting everything.
Suddenly, the closeness I felt to the other, the need to include him in my life, disappears. My independence is threatened... my identity is threatened. The idea of trading my impetuous ways for stability and support suddenly appears absolutely unacceptable.

In the envious position of having one too many desirable suitors, I find myself with another who is willing to put me pretty high on his list of priorities. I arrived as a disastrous disruption in his life and rather than running from me, he's embraced me closer, embracing the instability that is... well... me. Although I argue otherwise, he asks for very little in return for indulging most of my whims. A phone call, an hour of face time, a hug... and in return I get a gopher, driver, personal cook, receiver-of-my-anger-rants, and overall supporter/cheerleader.

It shames me to think I'd be willing to jeopardize it all to have a night of doing-whatever-the-hell-I-want. My love of adventure, of meeting new people, of engaging with the world around me, and of expanding my list of ridiculous stories makes me almost hate the thought of being attached to any one person. I'm willing to gamble my whole bank account, for the rush of taking the risk and the (small) possibility of winning even bigger (whatever that means).

Three weeks have passed and I am stuck. I can't bring myself out of my head and I'm awaiting my best friend to help me cut through the confusion.
I need to figure out what I want.
Do I want to be in a relationship?
If I don't, what do I want otherwise?
What do I enjoy about relationships?
What scares me about them?
Can those fears be overcome?
Is this the time to overcome them?
Am I willing to accept my own realities and face them?
Am I willing to accept that I might not be able to fulfill everyone's idea of what I should be doing?
Am I willing to accept that I like being alone? What does that mean if I do?

Thanks You, for reading.
It's been a hard week.

I just want to know today, know today, know today / Know that maybe I will be okay

I keep seeing him everywhere.
On the street on a skateboard.
Eating an ice cream.
Exiting the elevator.
Waiting on the street corner.

He's a little shorter,
a little younger,
a little fatter,
slightly different hair.

Different iterations of the same person, appearing everywhere.


Maybe it's because school has started again and the village is filled with 60,000 more people than before, increasing the chances that my eyes will play tricks on me.
Or maybe, I just need to sleep more.
Or maybe, I just need to mail him those cookies he loves so much and I've been thinking about sending him (for the last week).

Or maybe, I have a good thing going and it's approaching three weeks and I'm having the same old freak-out session that I always do.

I have the strong desire to run away, to buy a plane ticket somewhere and not tell anyone that I'm leaving for a few days. I don't think it is natural to be this turned off to commitment... it seems like one of those things that would have been evolutionarily weeded out a long time ago (although, I guess promiscuity would be more genetically favorable, man or woman, if it means I am diversifying the future gene pool by mating with many partners). I'm searching for anything to ruin what I have so I don't take responsibility for the fact that I am a genetic sport (hooray for self-sabotage).

I wonder how he and I ever made it as long as we did. Granted, we fought to the point of breaking up everything three months, but we still made it pretty far. I suspect that given the difficult year we were both living, we just needed something, even if it wasn't that great (and possibly more damaging than either would care to admit). That, and he took my abuse and bizarre/sarcastic comments better than anyone I know.

It's been nearly two and a half years since we first met.
A year and a half since we broke up.
Almost a year since we began speaking again.
Two months since we stopped.



And now, it's been two and a half weeks since he asked for a modicum of commitment from me.
A month and a half since hypotheses were tested.
Two and a half months since we began talking.
Sixth months since we first met.


Approaching three weeks.
Temptation's right around the corner (several corners, actually) and I'm concentrating on not succumbing to it.
I have to believe that people are capable of overcoming their own terrible judgment, otherwise I'm condemned to make a lot of enemies.

Mini Update

I've started about two or three other entries and haven't managed to make much progress on them (there goes my secret-- only SOME of my entries are stream-of-consciousness entries... some are written, left alone, and re-written when I feel like it...).

So, just so you all know that I'm alive (if anyone is reading this in the first place), here's a mini-update:

• Got a deathly cold (told I looked terrible and to go home several times by my boss) that I'm still kicking... stupid cough.
  
• Whether it is related or not, I have weird aches and pains (like pain in my fourth and fifth digit on my right hand and a pain in the arch of my left foot).
  
• As soon as I figured I was no longer contagious (and donning safety gear), I started baking again. This week's concoctions? Caramel Apple Cupcakes with a Cream Cheese Frosting (with homemade caramel!) and Pumpkin Cupcakes with a Ginger Cream Filling and Chocolate Ganache Frosting (recipes courtesy of http://cupcakeblog.com).
• I'm stuck back in my head, thinking about my relationships with people (friends, family, and lovers) and the meaning of life.
• And of course, I'm preparing myself for the elections by getting together my own little voter guide. Be ready friends! You'll know how to vote by November 4th-- (and in case you haven't PLEASE REGISTER TO VOTE!)

Alright. Proper update comin' soon.

"I hate the gooks. I will hate them as long as I live."
-John McCain, February 17, 2000


"I will call any interrogator that tortured me, a gook. I can't believe that
anybody doesn't believe these interrogators and prison guards were cruel
and sadistic people who deserve the worst appellations possible. Gook is the kindest appellation I can give."
-John McCain, February 17, 2000

DEAR SENATOR McCAIN
By Bao Phi

Dear Senator McCain

I write this letter on jungle leaves
and the skin of a white man.

I am a gook, a jungle spook,
a steamed apparition
of piss and foot rot
building torture devices from old rotary phones
and the rusted hulks of American cars

I am that gook, when you turn on the light
I scramble away and if you see me
you know there's ten more
where I came from
catching tracer bullets like fireflies
in my teeth
my language like malaria
sweating itself into your brain

I am a gook, riding on top of water buffaloes,
waving welfare checks like a white flag of surrender
but shot in the back by your finest when they thought
I was standing in a martial arts stance

I am a gook, miscellaneous bomb bait,
agent orange evolved primate
creeping thru cashmoney colored jungles
and masturbating neon onto Wall Street
slit eyes fixed on white women
fingers like 10 long drips of grease

I am that villain in a white lab coat
trading bomb secrets for red cash
stashing code in surgery folded eyelids

I am gook, no speak no Engleesh
too much headache, tell me go back to my country,
motherfuck you eh?

I am indeed a gook, polished gold yellow
at Yale, driving my Ferrari horse-powered dick
deep into your spread-legged streets
while Miss America screams out an orgasmic "There goes the neighborhood!"

I am gook
that gook waiting in that nightmare jungle
that gook in front of you with 17 items in the 10 items or less lane at the supermarket
that gook born with a grenade in his head
that gook that got a better grade in your shop class
that gook uppity enuf to stand with his brothers and sisters and demand an apology
that gook who patted you on the back and said "That's okay--I hate gooks too."

I am that gook who stole your bomb secrets,
that gook that held you hostage,

that gook whose culture your daughter robbed for her tattoos, trinkets and t-shirts
that gook whose language your son attempts to speak so he can crack some nookie
from the fortune cookie

I am the gook who blazed you
the gook who saved you

I am gook, chink, slope, slanteye, victor, charlie, chan, suzie wong, dickless rice picker, model minority, binder of feet, your favorite sushi waitress, piss colored devil, nip, jap, snow falling on cedars, miss saigon, memoir of a geisha, joy luck club, ally mcbeal,

I am gook,
I ate your motherfuckin cat

I am that gook who will hang himself on Nike shoelaces
so your sons and daughters can play pickup or NCdoubleA final four,
I am that 14 cents an hour gook whose ghosts paint those Gap commercials white,
I am that gook that took over your pool hall and your roller skating rink,
I am this gook, I am that gook, I am your gook, I am my gook
I am that gook, popping out of a motherfuckin bowl of rice
to ask:
senator
what's the difference
between an Asian
and a gook
to you?

In a different place / I see another you / And in another place / I see a different you

"Love abolishes the distance, the in-betweenness which always exists in human intercourse, and if virtue will always be ready to assert that it is better to suffer wrong than to do wrong, [love] will transcend this by stating in complete and even naive sincerity that it is easier to suffer than to see others suffer."

-- Hannah Arendt

I'm leaving... / On a jet plane / Don't know when I'll be back again...

Where I was...

Where I am...

First business trip : First time in Colorado : First time in a long time being away from other people of color : Learning a lot of... well... firsts