Recently in Social Observations Category

Ya know, 2008 hasn't started out as well as I wanted it to. I was really looking toward the new year to be better than 2007 and it certainly isn't living up to the expectation. In fact, 2008 is turning out to be worse.

I got another ticket in February. It was for "speeding" (going 45 in a 40 zone) and I got "popped" in the exact, I mean THE EXACT same place I got popped the first time. Now I owe $651 in traffic tickets and I assume I have two moving violations on my DMV record which is going to make it impossible to find affordable insurance. I don't have to go to court this time though. I can just pay through the L.A. Superior Court website. Convenient, isn't it.

The Signal Hill Police Department is on my hit list. Long Beach Cops are pricks, but they have better things to do than give out bullshit tickets. Maybe it's because Signal Hill is the size of two city blocks that they feel the need to give out numerous traffic tickets for no apparent reason. Why that "city," and I use the term loosely, even has a Police Department I will never know. Now I take the freeway to work and back every day. Fuck taking the streets.

On another annoying note, I got some bullshit scam letter in the mail today from some con shop calling themselves: Check Processing Bureau Enforcement Division that claim I owe $140 on a bounced check from some pizza place I've never heard of. Number 1, I don't write checks. It's all about the debit card or cash. No. 2, I would never order $140 dollars worth of pizza from some delivery place. If I need that much pizza, I haul my ass to Costco and buy like 4 or 5 of their gigantic pizzas in the deli section. Fuck paying a tip and delivery fee. I can bake that shit myself.

Considering that I am still highly pissed off about being scammed by my own city (as far as I'm concerned Signal Hill is a glorified neighborhood in Long Beach and traffic tickets are indeed a scam by the city to line their pockets) I decided not to stand for that shit and reported their assed to the U.S. Postal Service for using the mail to defraud the public. Why these people aren't arrested and out of business by now anyway is something I don't understand. Apparently they've been doing this shit since 2006. My complaint to the postal service is below. I sound so snooty, LOL.

"A company by the name of Check Processing Bureau Enforcement Division has sent me a letter threatening legal action if I do not pay them the amount of $140 for a supposed bounced/fraudulent check that was written to a pizza delivery service (South Bay Pizza) that I have never heard of. They calm that the "issue" was first sent to a collection agency that "made" several attempts to resolve the matter before it was turned over to them. They are threatening civil and/or criminal action if I do not pay them immediately. I've researched this "company" online and many people in various states have received offensive letters and harassing phone calls from this company claiming that they owe money on bounced checks that don't exist. From the sound of the letter this company is attempting to sound like a federal agency and is using the U.S. Postal Service to send fraudulent and harassing letters to people in an attempt to scam them out of money for unpaid debts that are not real. They should not be allowed to do this. I ask that the U.S. Postal Service look into this matter and hopefully take the appropriate action to cease these fraudulent letters from reaching me and others as well as pursue any legal/criminal action if warranted."

See, I'm really hyped up about this. This seriously chaps my ass and I'm totally serious when I say I want them to pursue criminal action against these guys. I was lucky just getting a letter. Some people are actually being harassed over the phone by these people repeatedly, and who knows how many poor fucks fell for this shit and sent them money on something that was/is a complete lie. I really, really want to see these con artist and others like them in jail. Everyone is already having enough trouble keeping their head above water in this economy. We don't need evil bastards like these stealing from us too. We get enough of that at the gas pump.

*Sigh* I'm so bitter these days. I wish I could relax, but I can't. Maybe putting up a new layout here will help, but I can't do that until I take care of some other things. I DO have plans for this site though. Tons and tons of plans that I need to find the time to work out. If I didn't have to work I could do it. Having a job sucks.

Hey, kids. Well it's been awhile, I know, but I've been wrapping my mind around shit and trying to deal with my new health situation which isn't going very well... anyway...

For those of you who don't know, Circa Survive is my favorite band in the whole wide world and I had the opportunity to see them in concert this past Thursday. I would have written about the experience the night of, but I was so exhausted that all I did when I got home was take a shower and go to bed. I was exhausted for several reasons and to my dismay; the concert was a mixed experience.

Don't get me wrong, Circa was awesome. I worship the ground that Anthony Green (the lead singer) walks on and he's so fucking cute. I would bear his children in a heartbeat; I'm so crushing on him, but I digress...

Like I said, the concert wasn't as great as I thought/wanted it to be. In fact, I have very few fond memories and even less pictures to commemorate the occasion and this is all thanks to rude little emo children... I'll get back to that later, but first, let's recount the events of Thursday, November 8th, 2007.

5:30pm: Quiana (my sister) and I arrive at The Mayan Theater in downtown Los Angeles. After suffering through the horrors that are the 405 and 110 freeways, I was super stoked to finally be an hour away from seeing Anthony in person for the first time.

Although we arrived an hour early for the show, there was still a pretty long line going and we quickly crossed the street and staked our claim online in the anticipation of an amazing show.

Seriously, the entire time I was in line all I could think about was the fact that I was actually in line to see Circa Survive; that I would actually be in the presence of Anthony's angelic voice and brilliant blue eyes... oh those eyes... It got to the point where every time my sister would ask me a question my answer would somehow include the words Circa or Circa Survive. I know, it's sad.

Now keep in mind that when I bought the tickets I knew that there was going to be an opening act, however, I had no idea that there were going to be THREE opening acts and those three acts would get 30 to 45 minute sets a piece before we even got a glimpse of Circa. More on this later.

6:40pm: The doors finally open and we are allowed to enter The Mayan. Although Quiana and I had seat tickets, I saw that the dance floor was practically empty and immediately secured a spot close to the stage where I could see Anthony clearly when they preformed. Big mistake... more on that later.

7:45pm: The first act, Fear before the March of Flames finally comes on stage. Their amps were way too loud and the lead singer was a FREAK!

I'm convinced he dropped massive amounts of acid before coming on stage and spent the entire time, bouncing around like a fool, symbolically jacking off with his microphone and trying to hypnotize the audience with weird hand gestures.

Actually I think he was really trying to hypnotize the hot chicks into not seeing how fugly he was in an attempt to score with a groupie after the show.... It didn't work.

Towards the end of the set he even did a half assed handstand trying to impress the crowd. It was ridiculous, but the saddest part of all this was that there were people actually there to see them... like, they acutally have fans.

The only bonus to that set was that Anthony came out on stage towards the end and sang (screamed) a few lyrics with the lead singer. Needless to say, everyone cheered their asses off at seeing him which was the loudest applause the band had gotten during their entire set.

8:30pm: The second act, The Dear Hunter, finally finished their setup and mic check (yes, we had to sit through all the bands setting up and mic checking which took like 30 minutes each) and started their set.

They were not half as bad as the first fuckups. The music was decent although a bit boring in parts and their amps weren't too loud so you could actually hear what the lead singer was saying.

They sort of reminded me of Coheed and Cambria in a good way which says a lot, but at that point I was starting to get antsy (as was everyone else) and I was done with that three opening act shit and ready to see Circa.

9:30pm: The third act, Ours, finally finishes their setup and mic check and they start their set.

This band is pretty good. They've been around a while so they've got stage presence and experience. Although the lead singer isn't the hottest guy in the room (Anthony is), he's a rockstar in the best sense and has a good voice. The music is very well done and the light design for the show was very nice. So nice that it prompted my sister and me to take a few pictures of their performance.

Another bonus to Ours was that their keyboardist/rhythm guitar and lead guitar guys were HOT. I have pics below and they aren't very good ones, but you'll get a general gist of the hotness.

Despite how much I liked Ours, I couldn't get it up for them as much as I would have liked as I'd been standing on concrete, pressed together with a bunch of sweaty emo teens for about three hours and I was over it. My feet were hurting, I was tired and I had actually contemplated just leaving without seeing Anthony. That's how exhausted I was.

10:15pm: The Ours set ends and Circa is about to set up for the finale.

My sister and I were standing patiently, extremely excited to finally see Anthony and in such a good spot close to the stage when all of the sudden the crowd on the dance floor started to get pushed forward like a tidal wave was hitting us from behind.

At first I didn't know what the hell was going on until the bastard little emo kids who were forcing their way to the front of the crowd started showing up in my section.

Yes, you read right. The push from behind was actually fucking teenagers (and I'm sure some stupid adults) who weren't smart enough to show up on time and get a good spot, so they decided to force their way to the front and push out all the people who had waited through all three acts to see Circa up close.

It was insane, we were being pushed around and smushed together so much that Quiana was starting to freak out. You could see and feel all these people pushing and shoving their way upfront, elbowing people in the gut ( I got elbowed) to steal their spot. I wanted to fight for my space, but Quiana was freaking out so much that I decided to fuck it and grab her arm to try and get her out of there.

Yeah, I wanted to see Anthony up close and be in the thick of it when he belted out lyrics to "In Fear and Faith" and "The Difference between Medicine and Poison," but it wasn't worth my sister getting physically assaulted and having a panic attack.

Now, while Quiana and I were struggling to get out of the whirlpool, this guy and girl had started to get into it about who was going to be ruder and push their way to the front first.

It's all a bit of a blur to me now, but I know that the girl had started punching the guy in the head first (right over Quiana's head as he was pushing his way forward right next to her) and then he either pushed the girl really hard or hit her. Whatever happened, the guy she was with got involved and then it turned into an all out fight in the middle of the dance floor. Luckily I had gotten Quiana out of there in time or we both would have ended up in the middle of that shit. Of course security had to break it up and although I don't know how many people were actually involved, I do know that the girl and guy who started it got tossed out of the venue unceremoniously.

Once everything had settled down I looked around and found myself at the very back of the dance floor miles away from where I once was. I was so close to seeing Anthony in all his glory that I could taste it, but the taste soon turned bitter due to all the evil little emos at the show. I swear, if I see anymore skinny jeans, hoodies or greasy, color streaked hair I'm going to fucking go off. No offense to all the nice emos out there, but your brethren have SERIOUS problems and need their asses kicked.

Anyway, it was going to be awhile before Circa actually got onstage as the fight had the roadies for Ours mesmerized which delayed the breakdown of their stuff and thus delayed the setup of Circa's stuff.

Luckily, while we had the coveted up close spots on the dance floor we'd met a really nice young couple who'd driven all the way from San Bernardino to see the show and were with us when we got forced to the back. The boyfriend bought Quiana a bottle of water to help her calm down and let her bum a cigarette.

Although I'm very proud of her for quitting smoking years ago, after everything that had just happened I figured I could keep my mouth shut while she enjoyed a little nicotine comfort in an attempt to chill and regain her equilibrium. She was honestly startled by the whole thing, so much so that her hands were shaking even after we were outside with the couple chilling, smoking and waiting for Circa to come on.

11:00pm: Anthony and the rest of Circa Survive finally enter the stage. Their set was good and Anthony has an incredible voice and insane stamina. His voice never cracked and his high notes were so crystal clear it was amazing despite him bouncing around the stage like a maniac.

The light design was good although a little dark for pictures and they kept releasing big, colored balloons out into the audience to be bounced around by the fans with some of them popping to rain down confetti all over us.

I got some decent pictures, not near as good as I would have gotten had I been in my original spot and despite my joy at seeing Circa live, it was tainted by being forced out of my spot and the fight that ensued after.

I think that If I could do it all over again, I would have shown up later (to avoid most of the opening acts) and taken my seats on the second level to avoid the massive trauma done to my feet from standing in one place for three hours.

You know, the more I think about it, the more pissed off I get and I've decided that I have to go to another show when they come back to town to try and get the wonderful experience I should have had at this one. It makes me a little sad, but I'm hoping against hope that they'll come back to SoCal (preferably Long Beach) so that I can see them again... properly, and maybe even stick around to meet Anthony after the show and get a picture or something.

Anyway, like I said, pictures are below and I'll try to find some good pics of Anthony so you can see how hot he is... just in case you don't know already.

Hi * waves*. You know, it’s really nice when you can interact with someone of the opposite sex and not have any… how would you say… expectation attached to it. I hate that feeling of discomfort when you try to work or be friends with someone you are attracted to. And it’s not like you choose to be attracted to them. It just sort of happens. Then you’re stuck being attracted to this person, trying to interact with them while desperately trying to keep your inner stalker in check. It is very annoying and very tiring. Not that I am stalking anyone right now. It just dawned on me (like these things always do) and feel it is worth exploring. God (or Goddess) knows I have shit pop into my head all the time that is complete rubbish, so I don’t think it would be wise to ignore the good thoughts as they are so slight and far between. But to expand on this epiphany, I could easily get into the great debate about why we are attracted to the people we are attracted to and what attraction really is.

You all know I’m one of those deep thinking peeps who likes to analyze everything until it can’t be analyzed anymore (It’s a gift of mine that I cherish deeply), so you can understand why I look at this from a very cynical point of view.

I am not a romantic. I very rarely cry because of a love story. I mean, that shit has to be touching… like really touching to get me to cry, and even then I’ll only get misty.

I don’t believe in love. Especially “love at first sight.” I believe in “lust at first sight”, because really, when people talk about falling in love at first sight, what they really mean is that they saw a person that they could totally see themselves fucking, right there, on the dance floor, in front of everyone. I admit that is a very powerful feeling. I bow down to the elusive “lust at first sight”, but it ain’t love, its sex. Let’s keep it real, people.

Basically, everything boils down to sex. It’s the base, the lower stuff, the building blocks. For if not, why would you need to have sex to perpetuate the species? It’s just the way it works. It’s the important thing… the all important thing and we need to resign ourselves to that, which is why we are hardwired as humans to look for certain cues in those of the opposite sex (or the same sex) to determine fuckability.

I say fuckability, not fertility because that is what it is, fuckability. I guarantee that most of us didn’t get here because our parents wanted to “do their duty”, be fruitful and become many. Bullshit. We got here because our parents saw each other across a dance floor, a produce aisle, a washing machine at the coin-op laundry and had “lust at first sight.” And then… we were conceived. Hallelujah.

Now when I say hardwired to look for certain cues, I literally mean hardwired. Every time we look at someone we are performing complex mathematical calculations in our heads determining symmetry which in turn, determines health and yes, fuckability.

Symmetry is beauty. The more symmetrical you are, the more beautiful you are. I know it sounds too simple—that the most beautiful girl in your class, whom you hated with a smoldering passion, was beautiful and popular because one eye was only minutely higher than the other and both her arms and legs are only longer than their counterpart by a fraction of a fraction. What’s more, a supermodel is a supermodel simply because she is symmetry in the flesh. And in that light, symmetry gets you fuckability points which in turn will get you laid, which produces children, spreading your genes across the land, which in turn spreads more symmetry, which means that all of us are pretty symmetrical because our ancestors bred most of the ugly people out leaving more room for symmetry to flourish. It’s you basic survivals of the fittest… or in this case, the prettiest.

And it’s not just limited to the face. Symmetry spans the entire body. That is why certain body types appeal to the masses as opposed to others. Whether the trend is super skinny or a little plump, I bet you most people (women in particular), still had the same proportion ratio. It’s not about size at all, it’s about proportion. For example, a woman can be 220 pounds, but if all her weight is distributed in the right places to balance proportion and she has the coveted 0.7 hip to waist ratio, she will be more attractive and get far more fuckability points than her skinny and far less curvy counterpart. The perfect measurements of 36/24/36 are truly that, perfect. This proportion ratio dictates health and health equals fuckability because let’s be honest, who wants to fuck a sick person?

Symmetry is God, which can be a little depressing as it proves to show just how powerless we are. Our lot in life, our ability to succeed is tied up in how we are perceived on a physical level. It’s the luck of the draw—the roll of the dice in the expansive genetic craps game that determines all.

I could go on and on about symmetry and fuckability, but I won’t. Basically, life is this—when you’re sitting at lunch, by yourself, wearing the badge of unpopularity, plotting the death of that well-liked girl in your office with her sickeningly symmetrical features, remember this. It isn’t her fault she is freakishly beautiful. Blame it all, your crappy job, and your crappy apartment, your lack of money, everything… on symmetry.

Hi * waves*. So, we are coming up on 2006. Do you remember, back in the 50’s when everyone thought we’d be living on Mars by the year 2000? I bet people who didn’t live to see 2000 come and go would be pretty disappointed in us now. It appears we aren’t really a forward thinking people. We’ve made leaps and bounds as far as personal entertainment is concerned (the new I-Pods for one), but as far as reaching out to the stars—the stuff of Gene Rodenberry’s dreams… we have failed miserably.

I suppose it’s to be expected. After all, we are human and humans aren’t known for being particularly smart (I’m very good at this self-loathing thing, aren’t I?). But even I would have expected to be farther along than this. I know that is rich coming from a notoriously late bloomer like myself, but I figure I am just a microcosm of the world at large. Humans are late bloomers by nature. We always seem to be playing catch up to the rest of nature’s creatures. The only thing that sets us apart is that we are at the top of the food chain and only because we have deposable thumbs. It’s kind of sad really. When you think about the nature of evolution (if you believe in it, which I do), you see that it doesn’t usually fix what isn’t broken. Crocodiles have stayed unchanged for millions of years. They are influenced by outside forces, their habitat is constantly changing thanks to human development, but still, they are unfazed. They are the perfect killing machine—divine in their perfection and propensity for destruction while still providing a valuable service to nature (weeding out the weak to make the herd stronger).

They are fascinating creatures, but also serve to show us our flaws. Humans are constantly changing because in essence, we are broken. Our pinky toes are getting increasingly smaller. Why? Not quite sure, but nature thinks we don’t need them anymore, so she is phasing those fuckers out. And, deep down, we know we are broken too. That is why we have this innate need to drill down the I-Pod to its most perfect state. We are desperate for control of our imperfection, therefore we strive to perfect the things around us in hopes that the perfection will prove our value or rub off on us. Could we use the initiative we use on video games to fuel our exploration into space? Sure we could, but why bother when the Graphic Geeks at Pixar will create a virtual universe for us. No muss, no fuss, no math… its genius.

I guess I’m just discontent with the fact that another year has gone by and I still have done nothing with my life. I really shouldn’t get down on myself. I’m just doing what humans do. Unfortunately I’m a little more forward thinking than that, so my being par is bothering me.

I got invited to a few parties this weekend to ring in another New Year. I may go, I may not. It depends. I’d probably be a little more enthusiastic about it if I had a date, but alas, no such luck. Maybe I’ll stay home with the parental unit, drink vodka mixers and watch Anime. God, that sounds pathetic and fun all at the same time.

Hi *waves*. I can only watch CNN for a few minutes at a time now. Watching what's going on in New Orleans makes me want to cry, throw up, and scream all at the same time. I feel so completely helpless and out of control right now because there is nothing I can do to help these people. These are times when I wish I was a fucking fairy and could wave my magic wand and make everything all better. It rips me apart that I can't. I just feel sick.

You all already know that I hate the Bush Administration with a sickly black passion that threatens to consume my soul, but I really don't know what to make of their complete lack of action in this case. What the fuck is the hold up Mr. President? You bent over backwards to send us to war, but you can't do something about the people of New Orleans dying? They have no food, they have no water, they have nothing. I guess it's not high on his priority list. You'd think it would be considering he's a transplant Southerner. And don't get me started on their token Colored Girl, Condaleza Rice. Yeah, that's right, I said it. All this "it's not about the victims being black." BULL SHIT! This is America. Everything is about race. If you're not white and you're not rich, you're fucked. Simple as that.

You know what else I find supremely entertaining? The fact that the company I work for, Safeway, hasn't starting collecting donations at all for Katrina. The DAY AFTER the Tsunami hit, we had donation cups at every register, but it's been almost a week, and there's nothing for the poor black folks in New Orleans. What up with that Safeway, huh? This company just sickens me. Thank goodness I have an interview on Tuesday. I want that job so I can get the hell out of this company.

[Edit] Oh my. Look at what Safeway put up a little while ago. It's about bloody time! [/Edit]

Whatever, I'm spewing venom and that is not helping anything. Please, PLEASE donate whatever you can to the victims of Katrina by visiting The Red Cross. You don't have to give money. There are other ways you can help, like food and clothing. These people need us and it's a joke that we can't even give proper aid to the citizens of our own country. We should be ashamed. It's disgraceful.

Peace and Love to the Hurricane victims. Blessed it be.

Hi *waves*. Rain, rain go away... come again another day. It's been raining for like the past two weeks. It's been cold and dark and wet and actually quite depressing. I guess that's lending to my total lack of creativity. Damn.

Question and awnser time...

Q.How do you pronounce Czuchry?
A. Matt Czuchry's last name is pronouced "zoo-kree". The "c" is silent.

Okay, I'm off to work on web stuff. I'll have to force myself and it will be like pulling teeth, but it has to be done. Peace.

Oh yeah, don't forget to donate something (it can be food, money, clothing, whatever) to those touched by the Tsunami in South East Asia. Go to these sites, http://www.redcross.org/ and http://www.unicef.org/ to find out how you can help.

If you know of other sites that have donation information or can help people find their loved ones, please feel free to post the urls in this entry's comments. Thanks.

Hi *waves*. Why is it that when you have tons of shit going on in your life, you don't blog at all? Is it lack of time? Maybe it's that everything that is happening to me is bad and I really don't want to rehash it in my blog for fear of bringing up the pain all over again. Yeah, that's probably it.

Actually my life isn't that bad. Oh, it's bad, but compared to some people, I have it pretty good. I mean, when you read about women in Sudan getting raped by muslim invaders who want to degrade them while trying to breed the black out of the population, it kind of puts things into prospective. Or, when you read about two women who were denied treatment for their cancers because they didn't have inssurance (healthcare in this country is fucked), it really makes you think... hmm, things could be worse. Not much worse, but there is still a margin for downgrade here.

I'm just growing more disgusted with the human race each passing day. We are so greedy and heartless. We'll fuck anyone over to get what we want. It's true for everyone. There are very few good, loving people in the world. There is always a base motive for good deeds. When you parents say they love you, they don't, they just want something. Humans do evil everyday, even on the smallest scale. We can't help it, it is our nature. People are just dirty, filthy things.

It's amazing how working in a grocery store has made me so jaded, but watching people shop is like observing a microcosom of human behavior.

I really need another job. The one I have now is making me hate the very thing that I am. I can't stop being human and that sucks. Peace.