I have packed my bags and moved to a new home.

Three little girls, ages ten, four, and two. They are sisters, and very much little girls. They refer to me as 'Uncle', although we are not related. The oldest girl enjoys the things that most girls her age do, while the two little ones love Barney. They stood around me while I sat down, each one talking, as they are always so very excited when someone comes to visit.

While the oldest one speaks the loudest and continually taps my shoulder, the four-year old climbs into my lap and grabs my chin in her hand as if to say, look at me while I am talking to you. I am aware of the two-year old standing alongside of me because I can feel her little hand tapping my knee and I can hear her own brand of language, which is a cute blend of baby-gibberish with an occasional word of English thrown in.

Although I try my best to listen to what each of them has to say, it is not possible. So instead, I hear little bits and pieces of each. The oldest is talking about summer school, the four year-old is telling me about Barney, and from what I can interpret, the two-year old is also sharing a Barney adventure. I'm trying to understand what the two-year old is saying when she says something unfamiliar.
"What, who is Barney FooFoo?" I ask.

Suddenly, all three girls stop speaking and the ten-year old lets out a bellow of a laugh. The four-year old laughs, and then the two-year old joins in the laughter. "Not Barney FooFoo, Bunny FooFoo!" the oldest one says in a loud factual tone. The four-year old climbs down from my lap and the three of them giggle in unison. "Uncle Jeff said, Barney FooFoo!" the ten year-old cries out joyfully. "Uncle Jeff said, Barney FooFoo!" the four-year old repeats while struggling to hold her laughter for a moment. "Uncle Jeff, gerbleligoobagoo Barney!" the two-year said so happily.

Illusions are destined to pass.

If you are unemployed, have ever been unemployed, expect to be unemployed, or know someone unemployed, then you must see this.
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I have been watching the NBA finals, but thus far the series has been somewhat disappointing. Although a Laker fan for many years, I was still hoping the Nets would have given the Lakers a little more competition then they have. Even during those games when the score has been close, it never really feels like the Lakers are being threatened. Following the close series the Lakers had with the Kings, the finals are tremendously anti-climactic. The Lakers are leading the Nets three game to none with game four to be played tonight. I imagine the brooms will be out as the Lakers sweep the series and put the Nets out of their misery.
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It has been a long time since I have last seen Magnum P.I., but somehow I don't remember it like this.
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Father's Day is almost here. Ok, do not panic. There's still time to make that creative gift.

There are times in my sleep when I will dream with a blend of past and fantasy. Last night while in my slumber, I was at Green Haven Mortuary, an old roadside cemetery located in a residential area near my childhood home. In my pre-adolescent years, there were times when I would slowly walk the grounds of Green Haven and read one inlaid plaque or tombstone after another. These graveyard walks were never eerie or frightening, but rather it was a calming experience for a young boy at the beginnings of questioning his own immortality. Out of respect, I was mindful not to walk atop the graves. Though embarrassing as it is to admit now, I did not have the sense to know that the tangerines left at the gravesides were not for public consumption.

In the dream, I was walking slowly from one graveside to the next, silently reading the raised markers as I had done in my childhood. But these tombstones were not crafted out of marble or some brilliant stone, instead they were computer monitors with the names of family and friends posted on each screen. I have no idea what the meaning is behind this dream, if there is one.

I realize that the following entry is extremely long-winded, so I do not expect anyone to read it all. More than anything else, it is a record for myself to acknowledge some things in my life. ---

For as long as I can remember, there has been this inner desire to find answers. An unexplainable drive to explore the light and the dark. There was this silent calling for me to travel, and I followed that voice though unaware of which direction the journey would lead. With extended thumb and very little in my pocket, I traveled the states to explore, but never knowing exactly what it was that I was searching for. Although the scenery of the country was wonderful, and the people I encountered were intriguing, my yearning to explore was not propelled by either. There was something more out there in this world, I just knew it deep within the marrow of my bones. I wanted answers, yet I failed to know most of the questions. I wanted to discover my Self, to understand my own meanings and find my unique place in this world. All along I have known this was a spiritual quest, though my actions have often been far from what one would consider spiritual.

I have done far too many things for the sake of the experience. This big buffet of life has so very much to offer, and I have wanted to taste it all. The question has rarely been one of asking what I want to do, but rather what did I want to do next. But if there has been one consistency, it has been my own inconsistency. Nothing in this life of mine has remained the same for very long. I do not cry victim, for most of this has been at my own hands. Although consistency has always been admired from afar, apparently my searching nature will have none of it. I have tried my hand at numerous occupations, spent time in the military, been in love and visited whore-houses, experimented with drugs and alcohol, attended church services of every possible denomination and cruised with a religious cult, dined with the wealthy and hungered with the homeless, laughed with the devil and wept with God, spent time counseling others and voluntarily spent time in an institution, all for the sake of the experience of the journey.

I marvel at those people that openly claim they have no regrets in life. Though I congratulate them on this incredible feat, I often wonder how it is possible for one to lead a full life without some regret. There is truth in the statement that the accumulation of all my decisions have led me to where I am now, and in that sense, there is little regret. However, I do regret knowing that I have hurt others and that I have been the cause of tremendous pain. Although it is possible to forgive the hurt and pain, I know all to well how scars can remain.

I wish I had realized and acknowledged all the blessings in my life at an earlier stage. If I had, it would have allowed the journey to be far less bumpy at times and surely more enjoyable. Perhaps because my bounty was so full, I could not see all the blessings around and within me. Fortunately, I discovered these blessings, and ironically, the discovery itself has been one of my greatest blessings.

I am fortunate to have such loving parents. Through all the adventures, they have been there with me. Despite my inconsistencies and my desire to dabble and to experience new things, my parents have continued to be there. They have witnessed and shared my excitement for the new experience, and have given their encouragement in such times. They have also seen me tire to exhaustion and quit on myself, and at these times they have offered their support and understanding. Through illness and affliction, joy and sorrow, they have always believed in me, even when I didn't believe in myself. They have gone far beyond what is expected of a parent, and have given a friendship of which there is no equal. Without their love and support, my journey would have been far less fulfilling.

Although the inner desire to find answers remain with me, it is not the same as it once was. The desire has taken other forms now, and the questions have changed. I continue to explore the light and the dark, and the concerns for the big picture are still present. I still hear the calling to travel the world, yet by thumb and a prayer is no longer an option; my health and inclination are not the same as they once were. Admittedly, I am older now, yet I remain young. I am at peace with the world and with my Self.

Through this journey I have come to find an understanding of my own meanings. Although this probably will not be understood by most, for me, this is something that a lifetime has been strived for. This is not to proclaim that I have all the answers, nor do I possess a fraction of them. But I did discover my own meanings, and they work for me. I have found my unique place in this world, but it is not a place at all. I am where I am supposed to be, and knowing this is a blessing. I also have found the Self that I had long been searching for. It was not found along the beaten path, nor in some mystical mountain place. Rather the Self that I coveted and yearned to find was created slowly with each step along the journey.

Whenever I grab the days mail from my mailbox, it takes but a quick glance for the mind to register what I have received. Bills always seem to look alike no matter what company has sent them, and junkmail has that certain junkmail-feel to it. If there is a colorful Hallmark envelope amidst it all, I know it is a funny or inspirational card from Mom & Dad because, well, Mom does stuff like that.

When I pulled out the mail yesterday, there was a small white envelope decorated with stickers of happy golden stars along with faint blue dots. This is the type of mail that catches the eye, and the kind I seldom receive; it was from a friend. I carefully opened the envelope, not wanting to rip the stars anymore than was necessary. Inside were some thoughtful and kind words on a lovely card, along with an original gift. Wendi had included a single card from her meditation deck, a random card selected while she thought of me. Is that cool or what? I just love it.

I was debating whether I should write about this, but because this gift brought me so much joy, I knew that sharing it was the right thing to do. I hope it will inspire someone else to give of themselves in a similar way to a friend. Wendi has blown me away with her thoughtfulness, by the taking the time to create this wonderful gift for me. I will cherish this gift always.

After the questionable death of the cat that was found in my yard this past December, I started making a more conscious effort to notice the other cat that hangs around on the property. She doesn't do much, and she lays around a lot sleeping wherever there is shade, so I guess in a way she is like many other cats. As far as I know, no one claims her as theirs and she claims no one in return. She is a pretty cat with a lovely coat, and her eyes are an indescribable color that appears to change its hue at times. She is missing a small triangular-shape tip from her left ear, which I guess is part of the territory for a cat that lives outdoors. I'm unsure if the missing tip was caused by man or beast, but she doesn't seem to be overly intimidated by either. She kind of looks like what many cat sites on the web describe and show as an Australian Mist breed.

I'm not what you would call a cat person. Cats and I have always had this silent agreement of not bothering each other. If a friend's cat came beside me, I would stroke it if that is what it seemed to want, but neither cats nor myself have ever gone out of our way to amuse each other. But this cat is different, and perhaps so am I. She enjoys when I stroke her coat, and I always get a nice feeling when she walks in circles up against my legs and looks at me with those eyes.

When I prepare a meal, I often wonder if she will eat what I am cooking. She isn't finicky, but she definitely has certain tastes that she prefers. She likes fish and meats and loves milk. I recently gave her some scrambled egg, but she kept smelling it and then looking at me disappointedly. She now comes running when I repeatedly call out 'Kitty-Kitty-Kitty-Kitty', which is nice in a way, but I worry that my generic call could to lead her to go towards someone that might want to hurt her.

I am always in awe of the creativity that is shown in the photographs at the mirror project, and the photos posted on such sites as then you discover and windwardskies continually inspire me. So, for the past few days I have been out and about taking photos of scenes and things from around the neighborhood.

I too want to capture the visual art and beauty of the moment that others have found. But like the first time when I sat down at the potter's wheel to create a bowl, or the first time I took pen in hand to write a poem, the amateur photographer in me is quickly reminded that what others make look easy may not be so easy. Oh sure, I could point out that I am limited by using a disposable camera, but if I did, I wouldn't be totally honest with myself. All the fancy camera equipment in the world might help in some areas, but still the artistic eye-muscle needs to have some strength to be able to see the shot. I look around and I wonder, how come these people have so much neat stuff to photograph and there is nothing artistic for me to see? As soon as that thought crosses my mind, I am reminded that the beauty is there, I'm just not seeing it.

So, like I was saying, I have been outside taking photos. The weather here in the islands has been great lately. The blue skies with scattered clouds along with the soft tradewinds have combined to provide ideal weather to be under the warmth of the sun. With camera in hand, I have walked without any particular direction in mind and have discovered myself in areas of Manoa where I have never been. I have also strolled around in the familiar areas of the university campus and have noticed things that I haven't seen before. With the thought of finding what I want to photograph, I am discovering new places and seeing familiar sites with new eyes, and at the same time my admiration grows for those that can find and capture the moment.

It's Aloha Friday! This week there was a toro-nagashi ceremony held at Ala Moana park. Hundreds of volunteers gathered to send a 1,000 floating lanterns out to sea. Prayers and chants were offered for war dead and loved ones. The tradition is meant to help guide the souls of the dead to spiritual comfort.
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As keen eyes have seen, I have made a new page for my poems. The popup ads were a bit annoying at the other site. I like the way this page looks much better. I have activated comments on the page as well.

Photos: The Honolulu Advertiser.

Move over Ozzy Osbourne, Anna Nicole Smith is moving into the neighborhood. The former Playmate turned oil-tycoon will star in her own weekly half-hour reality series on the E! Network beginning this summer. "I can't wait," Smith said in a statement. "People won't be able to stop watching once they tune in. My life is a roller coaster, so hold on and enjoy the ride!"

Yeah right. How much of a roller coaster life can one have with $88 million in the bank? Although the series is not yet in production, here is what might be seen on a typical episode:

11:24 am Wakes up early.
11:27 am Drinks a cup of coffee, has a smoke, and reads Ziggy.
11:40 am Bubble bath with extra Mr. Bubble.
12:45 pm Yells at Kim (the personal assistant) for cutting off all the fat from the pork-chop sandwiches.
1:10 pm Strikes poses in the mirror and pretends to be Marilyn Monroe.
1:40 pm Colors black roots.
4:30 pm Wonders aloud if friends would still like her if she didn't have $88 million.
4:31 pm Blogs. Reads e-mail.
5:00 pm Makes random prank phone calls to strangers.
5:30 pm Eats the middles out of all the Oreo Cookies.
6:57 pm Receives a 'I feel your pain' phone call from Bill Clinton.
7:00 pm Has dinner at neighborhood Sizzler's.
8:42 pm Laughs out loud. Just caught on to the Ziggy joke.
9:00 pm Watches Law & Order.
9:32 pm Pizza delivery arrives. Flirts with pizza-guy.
10:40 pm Phones National Enquirer to inform them that in 30 minutes she will be checking her mail.
11:17 pm Checks mail. Provides stunned look for photographers.
11:48 pm Admires collection of belly-button-lint.
12:03 am Watches Conan O'Brien.
12:39 am Pinches self.
12:42 am Bedtime.

When it comes to the many social situations that each of us encounters, we generally find that there are specific conventional requirements as to what is considered correct social behavior. For the majority of us, we modify our behavior according to the social situation and abide by the written and unwritten rules that society believes is proper etiquette.
We know and value such rules like waiting our turn in the checkout-line at the grocery store, and frown upon those that ignore such social rules. Other rules of etiquette are valued in a social situation, such as chewing food with our mouths closed, but these same rules may not always be practiced when we are alone.

This leads me to the blog-world, a world where the question of social situation is oftentimes fuzzy. Is there such a thing as blog-etiquette? Are there certain rules that we in the blog community consider correct social behavior? For example, if you come upon a blog that you enjoy reading and you decide to link it to your site, should you (A) ask permission before creating the link, (B) notify the person of the linkage, or (C) believe permission and notification are unnecessary in such circumstances.

What if someone links your blog to theirs; is it considered proper etiquette to link their blog to yours?

What if you decide you want to remove a blog link from your site; what responsibility, if any, do you have to the owner of that blog?

If someone removes the link they had to your blog, do you consider the person to be rude if they do not offer an explanation?

What if you find something interesting on another blog; is it acceptable to borrow that information and to apply it to your blog so long as you give credit to where it came, or should you ask permission before borrowing from another blog?

I don't really have a conclusion or proper ending to this. I was just wondering if there is a consensus blog-etiquette, and if there is, how each person comes to their own understanding of what is proper behavior in the blog-world.

Life is a continuous process
of one thing after another.

Dwell on one thing
and you are sure to miss another.

Have you been following the Michael Skakel case? Me either.
But I do find his defense arguement somewhat interesting. According to Mr. Skakel and his lawyers, it seems that 27 years ago a young Michael was masturbating in a tree at the time Martha Moxley was bludgeoned to death with a golf club.
While tree climbing is a part of life for almost every child, and masturbation is a popular hobby, I have never heard of combining the two.
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Gonna have to face it you're addicted to .........your toy?

Memorial Day Weekend Fact: If you are an American Veteran of the Armed Forces, or a widow of a veteran, then the probability is quite strong that you are presently getting the run-around or have received such treatment in the past in trying to obtain what was promised to you from the United States Government and/or Veterans Administration.

Special Memorial Day Thanks to Dad, as well as Lee, Jack, Leon, Terry, David, Tommy, and Bob.

Food for that particular mood:

* Turkey for the holidays
* Peanuts at the game
* Popcorn with a movie
* Cotton candy at the fair
* Saimin late at night
* Tangerines on a hike
* Ice cream with sitcoms
* Marshmallows at campfires
* Chocolate when it rains

Slowly peeling the onion...

FBI agent says September 11, attacks could have been prevented.

U.S. Senator urged VP Dick Chaney that a restructuring of counter terrorism and homeland security was essential prior to the September 11, attacks. Despite repeated requests in the months leading up to the September attacks, the White House failed to review these reports.

Love is... having a Mom that takes the time out of her day to send an e-card from Wienerschnitzel.com just to brighten your day.

Here are some interesting numbers about our homeland insecurity. Personally, I'm not living in fear, nor do I feel threatened by terrorists. But I would like to have some assurance from the government that they are doing all they can to prevent future attacks in this country. The mixed messages that are being offered from the White House only seem to confuse and cause more anxiety. One day we are told that they are on top of things, that all is well in the war against terror. Then the next day, we hear comments like those recently made by John Ashcroft, where he says that future terrorist attacks are 'inevitable'. When the White House is questioned about these conflicting statements or asked what is being done to prevent any further attacks, the response is often to question ones loyalty and patriotism or to suggest that the question is politically motivated.

It concerns me that VP Dick Cheney said that the question is not if, but when the next attack will take place. To me, this is a fatalistic approach that serves no purpose. Why must it be excepted that we cannot stop these terrorists from striking? Weren't we told not too long ago that we were going to kick ass and take no prisoners? Were we not told that we would chase these criminals to the four corners of the earth and push them into the sea? Wasn't the world told in no uncertain terms that either they were with us or against us in this fight? Why then, can it not be inevitable that we eliminate these individuals before they strike us?

Pamela Lee Anderson and Kid Rock are soon to be married.
Mr. Rock recently gave Ms. Anderson an engagement ring. Although a date has yet to be set for the wedding, sources say the happy couple are planning a traditional ceremony with the exchanging of vows and hepatitis C.
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Nude chicken bares all.
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In my daily dose of spam, I received an advertisement for an "adults-only porn site". Although it's not unusual to get this kind of e-mail on occasion, I did find this one to be a bit troubling. After the typical rant about a free membership and the ease of downloading tons of fresh hi-quality movies and watching live webcam shows, they provided this link just in case I am under 18 years of age. I still have some difficulty in accepting the reality that Disney is mouse-ear-deep in the porn world.

For a large portion of my life, I had never come into contact with a psychic. I was aware of those that claimed to be psychic, and had even heard stories of how a few of them had helped law enforcement in solving specific cases. But for the most part it seemed that psychics were often tied to clients from the entertainment and political worlds. There was a brief moment of shock and bewilderment when it was discovered that First Lady Nancy Reagan had her own personal psychic. Although the First Lady was criticized and lampooned for confiding in a psychic, it seemed to open a door of acceptance for some. Psychics soon became a part of pop culture, and the flow of 1-900-CALL-A-PSYCHIC type ventures quickly became multi-billion dollar industries.

It is difficult now to go through daily life without coming across someone that claims to be psychic. I sometimes feel like the Haley Joel Osment character in the movie The Sixth Sense, only instead of seeing dead people, I see psychics. It has become vogue to possess psychic abilities. It is fashionable to claim to have discussions with spirits. Proclaiming to be psychic is yet another way for a generation of people to say, look at me, I am different; very much like what they had hoped their multiple piercings and tattoos would do. If by some chance you are not one of the gifted to be psychic, it only points out how dreadfully normal you must be...God Forbid!

Although I find it troubling that there is this sudden influx of psychics, I personally have nothing against psychics or pshychic-wannabes. If you are a psychic or know a psychic, I intend no disrespect. Even if you are not a psychic but are claiming to be one, I see it as your business and as something you will eventually have to deal with. I do think that if I were a psychic myself, I would find it somewhat insulting that everyone and his brother is now claiming to have psychic abilities when it is obvious that many do not. What is most disturbing, is that for many of these self-proclaimed psychics, their so called abilities are not used to delve into their own truths or to further their own spiritual lives, but rather as a means to gain attention, provide amusement, and if possible, to make an easy buck.

I had decided to wear my birthday suit all day today.
It doesn't fit anymore.

A friend came by yesterday evening with a plate of homemade chocolate-chip cookies and a gift-wrapped present for me. Her visit, the cookies, as well as the present were totally unexpected. I had not seen her in months, nor had we talked, so it was great to see her smiling face and to have the opportunity to talk with her. The present, a little box wrapped with a black bow, contained a ring. Her thoughtfulness totally blew me away. No one has ever given me a ring before. I don't think she paid too much for it, at least I hope not. I don't wear a lot of jewelry, but I will wear this. The ring is silver with a raised silver design on a black background. I scanned the ring so that everyone could see it, and although the scanner does show the design, it doesn't really show how lovely the ring actually is. The design is really cool; two different images can be seen depending on the angle of viewing the ring. In one angle, it appears to be an unclothed woman with her arms raised, while from another angle it looks to be some kind of deadly insect. At least that's what I see. Here are two angles of the gift ring, let me know what you see.

You wake from a night of restless sleep with a sharp pain in your ear. You are unsure what is the cause for this pain, and you don't know what to do to relieve the discomfort.

A Physician: says that you have an ear infection, and writes a prescription for ear drops.
A Psychic: tells you that someone close to your heart has recently been speaking ill of you.
A Coworker: spreads a rumor around the office that you are faking once again.
A Priest: asks why you haven't been to confession, and tells you to say ten Hail Mary's.
Oprah: doesn't know what the cause is, but knows that someone is to blame.
The Republican National Committee: blames Bill Clinton. After all, everything else is his fault.
The Television Media: says this is a tragic trend which may lead to cancer, death, or even worse.
Your Significant Other: wasn't listening, and did not hear what you said.
Your Father: points out that if you didn't listen to that music so loudly, you wouldn't have this problem.
Your Ex: says you have it coming.
A Feng Shui Practitioner: suggests that your home may need a compass reading.
A Psychologist: suggests that your illness may be stress-related.
Your Mother: asks to look at your ear, then makes something for you to eat.
Your Brother: asks to look at your ear, then pulls on your earlobe and laughs.
Cosmopolitan Magazine: suggests that ear problems are related to being overweight.
An Online Buddy: tells you a grueling and dramatic story about an earache they once had.
Your Child: doesn't know why your ear hurts, but is glad to find the toy left under your pillow.
The Health Store Clerk: questions whether you have been eating meat again, and suggests more bran in your diet.
The Fitness Trainer: tells you to shake it off, and then to take a lap.
A False Friend: asks whether this means you won't be going out on Friday night as promised.
Your Best Friend: hopes you will feel better, and tells you to call if you need anything.

When I was in elementary school, my first grade teacher used to have me massage her neck and back while she sat at her desk. It never occurred to me that giving her a massage might be viewed as wrong. I know none of my classmates considered it wrong either, for if they had, there undoubtedly would have been at least one informer in the group more than willing tattle. There were other students that offered to give the teacher a massage, but I remember her once declining an offer by saying that my hands were gifted. For impressionable young me, hearing that was like receiving a gold star sticker and a happy face stamp all in one. But I really didn't need much incentive to want to give her a good massage; she would generally call upon me while the class was busy with a math lesson, so I would have been enthusiastic about anything that would have allowed me out of math. But her words did provide a little motivation to want to do well, after all, she considered these hands gifted. I didn't know or care what that meant, but I knew that it must be something good because it had the word gift in it, and gifts are good.

Although my missing the math lessons would eventually come back to haunt me in future grade levels, I always felt like I learned something of value in giving those massages. It was my first discovery of learning about the power of touch. I had never given a massage before this time, so it was all (pardon the pun) a hands on experience. I learned that there was a fine line between gentleness and firmness, and both could bring pleasure. I remember as I cupped my hand around the back of her neck, her head would fall forward, eyes closed, and a soft crooked smile would come to her face. She showed me a place on her lower back, and said that all women like to be massaged there because long ago their tails had fallen off. I would eventually learn this was a joke, but at the time I remember being quite confused. In later years, a friend would explain that it wasn't because of a tail falling off, but rather it was due to the accumulation of centuries of men being a pain in the ass.