aghast

I was dragging the garbage and recycling out the back of TG this evening, backing out of the door, when I felt something soft under my foot.
Many thoughts entered my mind:
It was soft, but didn't completely give
It was too large to be a pearl
I didn't feel any crunches
It might be a living thing!

The moment I felt it I hopped and shifted weight to my other foot. Slowly moving the recycling can I looked at a small greyish-brown mass. I thought I had killed a baby bird. "How many times have I seen dead baby birds! And this time I was the cause?!" were my approximate thoughts.
But no, it had no feathers, beak, neck...It was a toad! Poor toad!!! It was on its back, mouth agape, tongue hanging out!!!

I can't quite describe the rush of emotions this whole experience gave me up until that point, but that was it, it was too much. I freaked and ran inside, screaming (thankfully only my co-workers were inside at this point!). It must have been quite a sight. I felt like I was hyperventilating! I had no idea what to do, as is always the case with these kinds of encounters with "nature."

It's these kinds of moments that remind me that all this "civilization," and our "advances" have really taken a toll on not only native peoples, but also the vast number of animal species initially inhabiting this land. Encountering "wildlife" where it "shouldn't be" is always a bit startling, especially, for me, if it seems to be dying as a result.
The same thing happened last summer, back home, when Sidney brought a baby opossum out from the bushes in our back yard. The way she dropped it, I was certain it was dead. But, after chasing Sidney inside, I went back to look and it had turned over - just playing dead (as I later found opossums are known to do)!
That was an experience! We took that baby opossum to the animal ER at the U of I, hoping they could do something for it, but it turned out Sidney had punctured its stomach and there was no way to guarantee it would mend. They put the opossum down. It was a sad day. As was this evening.

I went back outside, prepared with a cup, to scoop up toady and bury it. But sure enough, just like the opossum, it was only playing dead. It had rolled over and was sitting on the doormat now. Thankfully, Patricia came to check it out and offered to pick it up and put it somewhere.

Diana, the owner of TG, apparently puts bleach in the fountain in the back of the Grand Ave. store, for all of you who were planning to drink from it/let your animals and/or children drink from or play in it. Though it may have liked the humid environment, we had to take it away, so we put it by the trees in the alley between TG and Neha's old apt. I hope it lives. Chances are, it has already drank from the fountain, which would explain its chillin by the door and sluggishness, and will pass shortly. If I were a praying man, I would do that right now. But I hope that whatever happens, that toad either survives this to tell its family/relatives about TG, or passes without pain or suffering.
________

I've always reacted like this to animal deaths, or ostensibly dead animals. That's one reason why I felt vegetarianism was a good choice.
And afterwards, I kept thinking: "Why don't I have this kind of care or reaction to insects? Why are they so dispensable? They also are living just as much as anything else is."
I wonder how much our living here has affected ecosystems...I suppose things have been adapting for years. I know some bugs sure seem to like it in our buildings, on our lights, in the corners, basements, bathrooms. I always try to spread positive vibes to the insects I encounter, in my home and on the ground. Unfortunately, I don't have the will power to do the whole sweeping-before-I-walk thing to make sure I don't step on anything. I really respect people with that much devotion to peace and non-violence.


Also, before I went to work and all this mess happened, I made a really great dinner!
From this site Monna sent me a recipe for scallion pancakes I found a recipe for Szechuan spicy cucumber salad that I really wanted to make! Suma and I got that at Little Szechuan once and it was so good! So, I decided to make that, and do something with the tofu I had. I made a sweet chili fried tofu dish, also on that site...I think it's called Appetite for China, or something like that.
A) Surprisingly successful.
B) Delicious!
C) Few ingredients, which also meant that the flavors could really stand out.

I guess I just got intimidated by cooking in a style I'm not that familiar with...making a sauce - something I've never done, until today. And with something I've never used - Szechuan peppercorns (which are amazing, btw).
Just like when I was trying to make daal the first time, there's different techniques one has to gain, but it's great to do things I'm "scared of trying." I find that usually when I just take the time to figure things out and then take the chance, it always turns out ok, even if I fail. At least I've learned early that I like to cook with all my ingredients prepared beforehand. It means washing more dishes sometimes...but it really reduces stress. I just don't have the ability to cut and add as I go, as I see my mums doing.

Anyway, what a day! And tomorrow should be cool - hanging out with Stu all day. It's been awhile. It's nice to have at least one DJ friend in the area. Every time I get the chance to talk about music or DJing on this level it really gets me going.
Unfortunately, I also have thoughts that I may have to give up music someday in the near future. I will leave with this thought:
While reading Malcolm X's autobiography, I had a constant swarm of emotions and thoughts rushing through or sitting in my head. One thing I realized in the process of reading the book was that I LOVE reading, especially of the kind that I can use as "ammunition" for my points during any kind of dispute. I really regret not taking more time to read as I have been this past few weeks. I thought, "what if I did take that time? Where would it come from? My first thought: music. Malcolm, once he entered prison, never took spare time, and it sounds as though he didn't really have "hobbies." I am not Malcolm X, and I will not live the same life...but I understand how he was able to become so strong in his arguments and speak such truth because he had the opportunity to become so read and learned while in prison, in addition to following completely the teachings and word of Elijah Muhammad. I suppose it was the combination of that - having the knowledge, and already having the argument, the truth, but needing to support it. I don't have that much, and it's hard to tell where I'm going with my reading and research, when I don't have a platform or faith to support it with, other than humanity...faith in humanity. To some degree, that is what's driving me, at the core.
In any case, if I dropped music and started reading instead of looking for records, playing records, or downloading/searching for music on my computer, I would have a great deal of time. That would be just about all of my time not spent doing school work, sleeping, eating, or taking care of myself. I don't know if I could do it, because I don't have one specific cause, one focus, to...focus on, making it hard to have so much faith in the work I do, making it less satisfying, which is a huge bump up for music - instant gratification of playing/listening to music I greatly enjoy. There's always the issues though..."what does this mean?" "what message does this send/story does this tell?" "if I don't like the lyrics of a song, should I play it or not? should I just go with mostly instrumental stuff because it doesn't have words to possibly send the wrong message? and so on, and so on...
That reminds me, I need to work on my application to the Red Bull Music Academy!

Goodnight!

a case of the nail biting

I had a striking realization at the end of this past semester, during what I thought was one of my worst periods of nail-biting: the control I have over my nail-biting and the length of my finger nails generally reflects my self-esteem at any given time. 

In high school, during my last two years, I "cleaned up" - stopped partying, quit my job at Sonic Drive-in, and focused on my academics. I started doing better, understanding my work and classes, and feeling really proud. I stopped biting my nails immediately...it was like one day I stopped biting my nails and I never looked back. Then...after I began my first year at Mac, things went downhill.

Now it's summer and I'm at the lowest length I've been at in a while. Something's not right. I can feel it in more than just my sore fingertips.

This day in history

Just so that I don't forget, I have to say that:
On this day, December 23rd, in an effort set in motion three days prior, on December the 20th, I, Reed Charles Boskey, have completed one life-long goal of beating Rockman (also known under the guise of Megaman) X2 for the Super Famicom/Super Nintendo Gaming system.
YAAAAAAYYYY!!!





















It was not what I expected at all - the post-boss battles were actually quite easy, and in multiple stages, allowing me to replenish my health in between. It was kind of a joke...I was thinking all the way through the final fight: "there has to be another form of Sigma...this is too easy." And sure enough, going against everything I've learned from the Megaman series thus far, it was the final fight. Interesting. Or...maybe I just got really good at Mega/Rockman games over the years. Either way, that's 3 of the X series that I've beaten... I'm such a nerd. It was so worth it, though. Another personal accomplishment this break, to add to the paper, learning a lot of recipes from mi madre, and doing some personal reading...it's beginning to look pretty good.

Reed Richards Radio

Just so I don't lose them...though I guess they may timeout after a while, since it looks like that happened to my older posts. :(

Here's the 9th issue of Reed Richards Radio, from Fall 2008:
http://www.zshare.net/audio/526081968bd2d604/

And the 10th issue:
http://www.zshare.net/audio/526052854da5f485/

for some of that real Detroit shit...well, kinda. I did my best. I can definitely see the progress in my mixing since the semester started, which is pretty dope

mmmm, consuming culture through consuming food.

It's pretty interesting that I've grown into this belief that food is so closely tied to culture... I think I need to explore:
What do I mean by food?
What do I mean by culture?

Well...when I think of food, my favorite foods, I think of my mother's (and to a lesser degree, my father's) cooking and how it makes me feel. It's a way of affirming who I am, sustenance for the body and the soul. But this is so subjective - to ask what someone else thinks of in the context of favorite foods would certainly get a different response. But, there has to be some greater aspect of it. An objective aspect as well that links all food together.

And culture...that's so loaded. What are my assumptions about culture? hmmm... I feel like, especially in the context of food, there are "connections" I draw that are not real and not necessarily there (and also, are very...one-sided, for lack of a better term). Perhaps to ask someone what a dish's significance (if any) is to them is a more effective and less alienating way to start a conversation than presupposing it has some:
http://stuffwhitepeopledo.blogspot.com/2008/11/associate-asian-people-with-food.html?showComment=1227024300000
I can't demonize that guy, cuz I've been there too...and I know where I got it - from my momma. But, regardless, seeing that conversation makes me realize the ways in which my views have changed over the last few years.
This isn't even about the dish the guys in that post cooked. It's about what those dishes signify - an exotic alternative culture (clearly not something that is part of this culture/society) - and how that acts to establish people as permanently foreign (though these students were, presumably, studying in the US, and held citizenship in other countries, that is irrelevant). I'm losing track, as I started this post almost a month ago and just came back to this point now.... Just a bit of a check in on my progress and an attempt to work out some thoughts.

I guess what I really wanted to investigate was what makes certain things unique and special to me, and what gives me a right to that. I am constantly conflicted about what I could/should enjoy, claim ownership of, etc. For example...one of my favorite dishes that my mom makes is chiles rellenos. It is so rare that someone actually develops their own recipe, and, also, what makes food so great is the sense of tradition that comes along with it. But my mom just got that recipe, as with many others, from books. She does not have a good hold of it, she has to read it off the recipe sheet when she makes it. But she has that relationship to other dishes as well, and ones that are from our own family, like my great aunt's Swedish rye bread recipe. This also brings in discussion of authenticity...like, what source does she have for her chiles rellenos recipe? What if it's some coopted, butchered version? By a white United Statesean? Or what if it's a "butchered" version by a Mexican American? I'm so confused by this, and I know there have been so many things written about it. I don't have time right now to get into that though.

Kitchens hold a special place in my heart - especially the two that I currently inhabit (during different times of the year). I have grown up in the same house my whole life, this house in Champaign, on Hill Street. And in this kitchen are so many memories. Not only dishes made, but lessons learned, stories told, family made. It's amazing. And that has started at our house on Ashland, as well. I get great satisfaction from cooking with my mother and my housemates, and I feel like it's a great way for us to communicate and build community. What better way to look at praxis in my own life - here are way's I've been engaging in it, and also in this sort of community building that I aspire to so much. Here are dishes I make, or of my family, what are yours? We communicate through food, through stories, and that is our coalition forming action. I feel so much closer to both my mother and my housemates through our kitchen experiences. And it doesn't have to be this sharing method, either, there is potential to take risks together and learn things as a team, which also build stronger bonds. Like experimenting with Monna and making some delicious ass corn. That was wonderful.
I suppose at issue here, for me, is that I am worried of the politics of ownership and authenticity ruining the wonderful relationship I have with kitchens, food, cooking, and all that plays out therein when working with other people. Maybe this is a sense of entitlement I have...which is something I always wonder, or maybe it's just the case that my self-decpreciating mentality sometimes spills into every aspect of my life. :(
Anyay, I'm done for now. The verdict: further reflection necessary.

I'm slightly upset at how difficult it is to maintain this blog. That's about it. I would say more, but I can't right now - just wanted to check in.

A place to go to

After DC (which was amazing), I don't know how to have a weekend anymore. Life has been pretty disjointed since returning, and I realize once again, that I am not happy here. I make the best of my circumstances, but there's only so much I can do. I can't fool myself much longer - this place makes me miserable. And maybe graduating won't really be a liberating experience - I'll have many more things to worry about, especially financially (which deeply frightens me), and it may be only worse. But, maybe not, if I can do something like AmeriCorps. or Teach for America. The problem is...if things go anything like they have been for the last few years, I won't make the deadline for those program applications. Last year it was MITY (which I'm glad I didn't end up working for, I wouldn't have had that amazing summer, and that would be tragic), and now it's Chuck Green - and it looks like I won't finish by Monday. FUCK! If there's one thing I don't learn from my mistakes, it's how to keep on schedule with deadlines, and I'm sure it will cost me many more opportunities in my coming years.
So, that's that. The work I struggle to do, and most of the spaces in which I do most of my learning, I feel, are not recognized by this school, nor my transcript. I'm pretty unimpressive in that sense. But, once I join a community, I realize, I tend to completely invest myself in it. Thus, I'm extremely invested in improving this campus for all students, even though I am not getting what I need, nor finding happiness. What a situation to be in! I should probably have transferred when I started feeling this stuff my first year. This is like...revelations to me. I'm still not speaking up for my needs, and changing schools is definitely one of those needs. But, it's so late now, and I feel like it wouldn't be worth it.
I'm swamped with work, my mom and Stephen are coming today, and I'm not up to any of it. And on top of all of that, our house is fucking freezing!
my mood:

...delay

I realized I'm so thankful that people made templates already...otherwise my blog would look just like my never-used myspace: bare and uninspired. Though, that's not far from the case with Myspace. I never caught on. Maybe someday I'll use it, make friends with my favorite musicians...or something. Facebook was always easier since most people at school already used that, but whatever. I'm trapped in the bubble mindset - it's infiltrated my being. At least I'm working on making change within that bubble.
My flight was canceled...furthering my distaste with traveling. Megabus is at least more reliable than that. Now I get to leave at 7 in the morning! I'm looking forward to staying up all night.
I can't even enjoy the night...well, that's figurative. I can't get messed up in any way, I might miss the flight. Why is traveling always such an ordeal?