Not Entered

1. For dinner tonight I’m eating a frozen Uno’s deep dish pizza. They were on sale at Dominiks. Buy one get one free. 6 were purchased.
2. Hurt myself in the gym today. Pulled something in my leg, shoulder and chest. I’m all fucked up.
3. They announced on the news that, in Chicago, the Swine Flu’s epicenter is in the Pilsen area.
4. I live in Pilsen.
5. Washed dishes tonight—breaking my server 4 month dish strike. Boiled my blood, it did.
6. Kim and Mi Mi went home from the hospital today.

My first semester of grad school is over. I took one class online and it was a foundations math course. What happened was I bombed the school’s assessment exam so to proceed in the program I was required to take this Foundations class. I suck MAJOR ass when it comes to numbers. Don’t feed me a fraction I will melt.

There were moments in this eight week span did I wonder who really sat down to think all this shit up….word problems, fractions, the bullshit functions to a calculator. Who was CRAZY enough and mean enough to make MATH a requirement??? I want a low math-maintenance kinda life—addition and subtraction is all I really need. Maybe some multiplication and light division. But never do I see myself finger-fucking fractions to a calculator to divide/multiply them with variables to solve for the sake of solving equations, finding the mischievous number belonging to x. NO! Hell NO!!!! Not the life I’m looking to live. So for eight weeks all I could think was that there was some OLD BRAINIAC with no other purpose than making others miserable sitting alone under his giant bonsai tree jerking the beads to an abacus sunrise ‘til sunset because he had NO real friends. He must’ve been that much of a whack-off because now we have math in several divisions. There’s calculus and geometry and algebra and statistics and its bizarre what man has come up with in regards to numbers.

I’m ranting because we took our final exam last week. I had a NUMBER of issues with mine. The bottom line is that I don’t know if I passed and today the grades were suppose to be entered in the system. If I failed the final then I failed the class. I worked SO hard these past eight weeks I would DIE if I failed this class….but I fear I failed the final. I checked the system earlier this morning and the instructor hadn’t entered anything—I was panicky but relieved…and now I’m panicky again because I HAVE to know whether or not I wasted eight weeks of my life playing a grad student. I should check it now…

But I won’t.

shhhh…I checked. Grades still not entered... whomp whomp

Dear New Nephew

1. Staying in from the gym this morning. Must do double duty tomorrow. Will probably go to the Bally’s gym in Century’s mall.

So for the past 8 weeks I have been nursing my education. To clarify my absence school, family, my lack of finances, the gym, my job and love has kept me well occupied. My eight week hiatus is due to not having the discretionary time to become the night bandit Superhero KLB that I portrayed often before the beginning of school. Where has KLB really gone? More time will be needed though before a full recovery. I’m in the process of getting a few ideas together for a stronger and more stable comeback. What needs immediate addressing though is my blogs layout! 1. It looks WAY too busy and 2. It doesn’t look busy enough…??? Make sense???

I should probably invest in a HUGE ghetto cyber-sign saying “Page Down for Construction”

I look at Sweet Pea Walter’s and Sweet Pea Tyrus’ blogs and they’re SO pumped with energy—I need to dedicate the same amount of care for my platform as they’ve dedicated to theirs. There’s no consistency on my page. Wait a minute!—there’s no consitency in my life! Maybe my blog is a clear representation of how I express myself?? Maybe I’ll take a second gander at it. Bravo, Tyrus and Walter! Your pages are beautiful.

I feel like everything’s been pulling me away from my KLB focus. KLB is potentially my creative outlet for the rest of my life. He needs to be nurtured well.

But anywho!...my family is priority on tonight’s blog topic because yesterday my big sister Mimmy aka KimmiE bka Kim had a son; Demetrius Arthur Burns. This is exciting because this is the baby she’s always claimed to want, not that she doesn’t enjoy both her girls but as my mother’s only son myself, there’s something magnificent that happens in the earth’s core when a woman loves her son. The problem I fear with Demetrius is the problem I sorta feel with Kim’s other two children…I fear they’ll never know a home. What I mean by this is that Kim’s oldest Kayla spends nearly every weekend with her grandparents, aside from her grandparents Kayla’s father recently married and started another family that Kayla has to be a part of. Karla, Kim’s second child, spends nearly everyday with her grandparents and other siblings from her fathers’ side. Karla’s father was killed while she was still nursing and when she and Kayla finally get together they bicker more than they love.

The root family lives on 103^rd and Charles. That’s where my parents stay, where my younger sister Karen stays, where Kim stays and where her girls home base is. With each child though the threat of there being a greater disconnect between the root family and her children’s family and her children get stronger. I feel like Demetrius won’t ever get to know Grandma Brenda in the right amount of dosage as Kayla’s been privileged to because Karla, I feel, was a little under exposed.

I feel like this child won’t ever get to know his sisters in the right amount of light. He’ll be kept at someone else’s house and when he does come by it will be seen as a visit and Kayla and Karla will be entertaining their separate families and they’ll all grow to know of each and never know each other, like distant relatives. That worries me.

A lot of this has to do with knowing that the root family has always been the strongest Kim supporter. I worry that this child will never understand where all of this support comes from. So in the spirit of being blessed with a new family member and that family member being male having male genitalia, I decided to write the little tyke a letter:

Dear New Nephew Mi Mi

For all intent purposes, if you must know, I and Auntie Karen Love-Named you Mi Mi weeks before you were born. Of course your hyper masculine father with his very macho sensitive neck tattoo will loooathe this but you, for the earlier portion of your life, won’t mind.

The intentions behind the name Mi Mi being that Auntie Karen and I despised your first name so much that in a flux to make such a name sound reasonable to us we butchered it to reflect our candid personalities and the sense of humor we hope you acquire from being acquainted with us. Don’t fret this method was also applied to your older sister Karla for I and Auntie Karen despised her name too. I declared to your mother that if she were to name the baby Karla I would be FORCED to affectionately call her Peat Peat instead. From that, Auntie Karen internalized my love name for Karla into Peter-Peat Peat which, I believe, became the dominant name for Karla. Your mother though has a tendency to reference your sisters my their middle names more often than their firsts, so please be prepared to never know what your true name is until you’re about eight. Your mom and dad may call you what they want but to Uncle Ken and Aunt Karen you have been dubbed Mi Mi. The sooner you embrace it the sooner you’ll get over it.

You will probably see Auntie Karen the most but you will love me more. Typically how it will works is that Auntie Karen will provide you with random acts of childcare, which, as you get older, will lead itself into discipline. I on the other hand will be to you the tall narrow guy with the friendly attitude and green aura. I will be what rescues you from Auntie Karen.

Mi Mi, you were born yesterday at Christ Hospital in Oak Lawn while I was at the gym ogling at the rash of new gym bodies that accompany warmer weather. Swine flu is the nations recent epidemic, claiming nearly 60 people in Mexico and scaring a school in Rogers Park to close. Obama, our nations sexiest President, has served his hundredth day in office today, gasoline is two dollars and thirty-some-odd cents up the street and milk is outrageously priced—thank GOD I don’t drink it…regularly.

You should know by now that your father is a charmless man and is furthermore unapologetic for his charmless-ness…which ironically must be his charm because your mother seems to be smitten with him. By time you’re old enough to read this you will probably be in agreement with your mother, conditioned to love your father’s “shitty draws”…I digress. He of course is your father and I am confident you will come into your own conclusions about both your parents as all children tend to do. It’s one of the very few free courtesies we extend to our parents—our opinions of them.

But I hope birth wasn’t difficult for you. This is an old world with new tricks, Mi Mi…and now you belong to it. I pray you remain healthy. I pray you grow tall and smart. I pray you believe in family and keep an open mind about love. Sorry to rush your first letter but I’m sleepier than I thought. Off to bed, sir!

Ciao!

Ignore IT, for Vinny's Sake!!!

I am going to ignore the fact that Roommate Vinny has been absent from home front since Friday when he left me do fend for myself with the landlord who was expecting to be paid rent money that Vinny so happened to not give me his full portion of…again. No call from Vinny, no word, but he seems to be alive because his Facebook statuses are consistent and current. I’m going to ignore the fact that after explaining myself to the landlord (why the rent is short), lived a peaceful weekend—babyshower on Saturday, homework and dinner with the new beau on Sunday—coming in the house 2am Tuesday after grueling all night at the gig the stove has been turned on and the house reeks of gas. There’s a note in the kitchen from Vinny, which means he’s been home…and all I can think is that if I scratched my shoe across the floor it would have created a spark. I coulda blew the fuck up!

So he texts' me: You sleep gay man??
And So I ask him, because in theory it could have been me who left the stove on BUT I sincerely doubt it, " Did you heat something on the stove?"
His response was "no, sir, why".
And I say because the house was filled with gas because the eye on the stove was on.
And HE says....Why so sold?

I, whose life was in danger, didn't know what that meant. I thought I was being concerned and affectionate.

SO....I am going to ignore this.

For his sake, not mine.

Get Into these Vocals: Lovett

George Lovett

SO… I have a new obsession and he lives in Maryland. He goes by the name of George Lovett and I found him on youtube. His instrument is so crazy its hard to believe that he's struggling to find his place in the industry. A voice like this can do nearly anything. I personally would like to hear him on Broadway. Check him out!

Eh...Random Information I guess

1. Lost my scarf the other day. I know, I know, it was the accessory of a life time. Yes, I am a tad bit devastated.
2. Orange Polo, the cute boy at work, wears glasses now. He looks like Clark Kent. I wanna hold his hand.
3. Broke up with Tony Maloney via phone conversation.
4. Fell in love about three weeks ago with * blank* which spurred the need to settle dealings with Maloney.

School has kept me pretty busy these past few weeks. This weekend I got to spend some much needed quality time with the family. My older sister is pregnant outta this world and my nieces are growing like mold. We barbecued in the backyard in the cold, dragging the big grill from far back in the garage to behind the house. It’s pleasant getting older with my family. I think we’ll make a colorful bunch of old funny people—me with my berry beer and Karen (my younger sister) with her Mike’s Hard lemonade. Kim (my older sister) would be barking at the children who would then be in the mid twenties. Yeah, getting old doesn’t seem so bad.

Sure.