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This is Pedro's video of what he does with his friends

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Christmas Is Here

It's that time again. You know-- bells are ringing; children laughing; people dashing to the mall. The time when we get bombarded by all the altruistic messages from big corporations to give give give has now arrived.

My retail experience has me planning for Christmas in mid October with Blackout dates, extra coverage, and endless sales. We make our lists and check it twice making sure we are stock with shopping bags, register tape, and gift cards. Mandatory works hours are giving out to ensure we spend our holidays with the people that matter most, our customers.

This Christmas is playing on the radio. "Are you feeling the spirit?" I'm ask. What spirit? I ask. "The Christmas spirits silly", she replies. I have no response. I have anxiety about our Christmas preview sale that starts tomorrow, but I don't verbalize my thoughts. I don't want to give away that my Christmas thoughts do not include us sipping eggnog and lighting the tree. "I'm getting there" I say with a forced smile, she accepts.

At times I think I've been robbed of my Christmas spirit; My spirit vault is destitute of the holiday spirit. It's in times like these I feel the need to dig deep and find the true meaning of the holiday season. Outside, the most wonderful time of the year just arrived, but to me it means long hours, holiday traffic, and impatient customers, but when I take time to look inside I start to see that the shoppers are not just looking to spend money but buying gifts. And it amazes me that in this pluralistic society we live in, everyone can come together and accept these times as a time to embrace the altruistic theme to bring joy to others. All of a sudden, my spirit vault is full with brimming holiday spirit.
Now I'm elated by it all: The houses illuminated with fulgurating bulbs and blown up snow man. The music that brings an inexplicable sense of peace and serenity every time you hear it. The anticipation of giving the gift which you pick out after hours of roaming through stores, and perpetually queuing up in endless lines. Most of all, finding out first hand that the saying "It is better to give then to receive" is not just a holiday mantra, but and axiom of life.

I can now except all that comes with this time of year; the hustle and bustle of it all becomes part of the tradition. It allows me to slow down and enjoy December for what it really is.

You'll never guess...

OK, I know you can see it.


For all the calls I've received from work, A car "crashed into the store" wasn't what I expected on a saturday morning.

Some crack-head (and I mean that in the figurative way, his head wasn't crack or anything) crash a stolen car into the front of my building this morning. Somehow he was not seriously hurt, and was able to run away from the scene of the accident. Maybe I do mean crack-head in the literal way after all.



Some how no one was hurt, thank god, the store was close at the time.
Had the store been open someone would of maybe died... a little dramatic, but it's true.

80's Night

Kevin, Huguens, ???, Azwell, Marlon, KC, Robinson, Henry
For James' and Shea's 30th birthday, they threw themselves an 80's party. These pictures are the result of the chaos.
While some people refused to get down with the throwback look, many joined in with the tight jeans and shell-toes.


James, Henry

... Bringing back the b-bop

28/18

All together now.

******************************* ...Like a rock star.

Don't sweat the technique.

Hey I wan't to thank everyone for comming out, and spending some money on me. It was great.

Saturday Night

The party night, right? So, where's the party? where's the place to go and shoot the shit without the drama? Where's the place around the corner, down the street, in town, that you can't wait to get back to next weekend? Whatever happened to "the spot"? That one place everyone knew to go to, with new faces mixing with the old, so it would forever remain fresh with the same old rhythmic flow?

I remember when there was an unspoken agreement between friends as to when the party would meet and get reacquainted once again. I remember when there was a house, a park, a block that served as headquarters to our impromptu parties that took place on every sabbath. I remember parties that were never known as parties until they were recalled later. The sort of parties that were filled with the familiar faces, carried no surprises, yet were entertaining every time.

Interestingly, Saturday nights have not changed. "The spot" still exists, but all luster is lost. The parties are still poppin', but they're not mine. Suddenly the crowd looks young and their game is old. What they're after is no longer what I'm after. Drunken lust no longer appeals to my maturing sensibilities. My palate has been refined by meaningful verbal exchange, and deep, mutual understanding of the soul's condition. No longer can I survive on weak pickup lines and mindless gyration for gyration's sake.

I've grown. What I need is a renaissance: to redefine the Saturday night experience in terms conducive to a mature man's liking. Do I like to party? Hell yeah. Only now I do it with a game of Texas Hold 'Em or perhaps a classic, like Scrabble. I no longer need a room full of strangers and a paper cup full of beer to convince myself that I'm having a good time. Individuality reigns supreme; I've abandoned anonymity in favor of a sharper image of myself. Though I look back on those carefree days with fond memories, I happily embrace the new Saturday Night.

Summer's Over... : A guest blog by Shannon

Tomorrow is the first day of school. Depending on who you are, that means so many different things.

For me, it means being the architect of learning for a strangely wide variety of students. In fact, in one day, I practically have to be schizophrenic to meet the needs of the student populations in front of me. The average kid in my freshmen English classes has low to moderate skill levels, coupled with moments of beautiful poignancy. His parents express little to average interest in their child's education due to limited english proficiency or demanding work hours at minimum wage. My average honors-level senior, on the other hand, is white or asian with strong parent involvement in his education. He is definitely college-bound, and has the academic and extra-curricular resume to send him to some big-name universities. But averages are deceptive.

Every student has a backstory. Every student has some need he is looking for someone other than his parents or guardians or even friends to fill: that someone, more often than not, is me. After three years of teaching, I still haven't figured out what to tell Suzie Q, the honors student, who just told me that her father, currently ailing from his recently-removed, gangrenous toes, has been left in her care by a mother in the throes of a mid-life crisis. I still can't figure out the right words to console Jane, whose pervert stepfather hits on her when mother isn't looking, and is thrown out at age fourteen for trying to let mom know. (P.S. She also mentioned that she was raped by her older boyfriend and his friends that she had snuck out to see, and contracted four or five different sexually-transmitted diseases.) At twenty-six years old, I struggle to respond appropriately to these situations. The politically-correct, legally-mandated response is to fill out a report, alerting the proper authorities of suspected abuse, resulting also in a referral to the school adjustment counselor. This should mean that Jane is removed from the home, hopefully placed in loving environment, full of good role models, and sent to intensive therapy. But we all can detect the stench of that romantic bullshit a mile away. Instead, Jane, fearing rejection from mom, lied to the counselor, and denied the entire situation; the matter was dropped. I now am left to deal with an embittered, hormonal youth, who I am supposed to be teaching English in preparation for a high-stakes test a few months away. Oh, did I mention that due to the fact that I am employed at an "under-performing" school, my job is at stake?

Now let me ask--because after three years, call me inept, but I still can't figure out--how do I tell Jane that I really care about her and want to help her, but I'm already late for my second job as nanny for a stay-at-home mother across the city, which will keep me busy until 8pm tonight? "Your paper? Oh, sorry. I'll have it for you really soon, ok?" "Why do I work another job, Jose? Because I hope to get married next summer. And I have to live for two-and-a-half months without pay. Yes, I do have a summer job, but on top of rent, car payment, phone bill, credit cards, and food, I have student loans to pay back, too."

Yes, some days I feel sorry for myself. Usually those are the days spent at Richtown Health Club's summer clubhouse, taking care of Mrs. X's kids and their friends; or perhaps it's when taking said children to rockclimbing, ballet, or private swimming lessons, while Mrs. X "takes care of some business." (YOU DON'T HAVE ANY BUSINESS! YOU DON'T HAVE A JOB!) On those days, I wallow; why can't I have this charmed life? What makes the Xs better than me?

Ultimately, despite its drawbacks, I love my career. ( I could live without my second job, though, I love those kids, too.) I want to be a teacher. I am still hopeful and perhaps naive enough to believe that I can positively impact my students' lives. I do truly care about them, even America's hopeless, committing crimes in grade nine. I pray it's not for naught.

Am I looking for sympathy? Yes. The next time you say, "teaching is hard, but you get the summers off," stuff it. Just shut the fuck up. Remember me, and for christ's sake, give it rest. It is the least society can do for the people they underpay and expect to mass produce little american geniuses, who are the pillars of their communities. And if you're a parent, take a long, hard look in the mirror, and ask not what I can do for your child, but what the hell you are doing for her.

Tomorrow is the first day of school.







Shannon is a creative and witty writer, whose style of writing I've admired for years. She's is one of few people I know that can paint such descriptive and beautiful pictures with her words.

Shannon is an english teacher who believes in purposeful education. She is passionate about her work. Her goal as an educator is to open her students' minds to the possibilities of the world, and send them off as thinkers and questioners. Shannon's dedication to her field and her students is an inspiration to us all. She is truly one the most altruistic people I know.

It was an honor to have her guest blog.

Naked In Public

So OK, I'm walking into the gym, looking around, doing the walk-in thing: you know, when you do your best strut, and peruse the place for any familiar faces to greet. Everything is kosher until I walk into the locker room. I push open the door, stroll in, and bam! Without any warning, balls and pubes everywhere. I'm not taken by surprise - I've been in plenty of locker rooms before- I'm just taken aback by how acceptable or prevalent it is for grown men to just walk around free-balling it. OK I know, it's a locker room; I get it. There aren't too many places where a man can feel comfortable to show himself. But why a locker room? Why the public place? Why is it so OK in a locker room and not anywhere else? Janet Jackson got banished from suburbia for accidentally showing a boob; On the news a little while back, a man got arrested for standing naked inside his house in front of a window that faces the street; Even at the beach, a person usually needs a bathing suit to maintain decency. So why is the locker room the chosen place for grown men to show off their member without ridicule? Maybe it's for show and tell. But I don't get it. Can you imagine locker room behavior being applied anywhere else? For example: you're hanging out at a friend's, when a stranger comes out of the shower naked, towel in hand, and just starts conversing about the weather and work. Or imagine your roommate coming out of the shower, and then starting to dry his hair in full view of everyone else, naked. Those would be awkward scenarios, right? But, in the locker room, I see it all the time. I would think, in this "homophobic society that we live in", people would be more likely to shield themselves, because some dude might be seriously enjoying the show. But no; I can't show my appreciation for a guy's physical attributes without someone yelling out, "you know how I know you're gay?" But public-naked ironing? No problem--as long as it's in the locker room.

I'm not trying to get a ban on locker room nudity, or to pass any kind of bill. I will be the first to say, it's kind of liberating to walk around naked without judgement. I was somewhat reluctant at first; but" when in Rome...", right? I must say, I am curious to see where this behavior might spill over. Like naked congressional hearings, it could help in attendance, seeing that all members would be present; or naked confessions could be a great way to strip away the sins. How about naked sport games? That would be a ballsy thing to do.
Anyway, I just don't know if I'll ever know why uncovered johnsons are always acceptable in locker rooms. But I'll keep asking until I get to the bottom of it; I won't stop 'til the truth is uncovered.
Ok, I'll stop.

Minority Candidates

What is the great fear that white American males have of a minority running the country? In a country where diversity is revered, I don't understand the fear that a woman presidential nominee and a black presidential nominee evokes. Some how we are to believe our great nation will meet its demise if one these candidates becomes president. As ludicrous as that may sound, there are actual believers of that theory. Radio talk shows are bombarded by talk of corruption, anarchy, and chaos if and when one these candidates wins. One talk show host is adamant that America will lose all that it stands for when Senator Clinton wins the election.

Those thoughts and comments raise some questions: Are we to believe that this country can only be governed by a white man in order to maintain its stability? I'm not here to make a case for equal rights or to play the proverbial "race card", but the idea that some how this nation would fall into shambles if not run by a white male is some what alarming. Women as well as black Americans have penetrated all aspects of government. We have minority senators, congressmen, mayors, governors, and people holding plenty of other offices. It has to be deeper than that. If you listen to or watch any debates about Senator Clinton and Senator Obama, the most popular talking points are race and sex. These are two well accomplished Americans. Obama, besides being a senator, is a very successful civil rights lawyer, and he also taught constitutional law. He was President of the Harvard Law Review. Senator Clinton was, after all, the first lady; she has been an advocate for civil rights, education, and health care for many years; and also a successful lawyer. Despite these impressive credentials, many cannot look past a woman and a black man, and therein lies the fear. The fear is not that these two candidates are incompetent or have an inability to lead, (after all, we can certainly find these faults in the incumbent), but it's in what they represent. Clinton and Obama are representatives of two powerful and ever-growing minority groups. And if either of them were to win, these groups would now have a voice. Not just a person willing to hear their problems but someone who feels it and understands it. It's difficult as a black man not to understand the plight of the black community and what plagues it. As it is for a woman not to have experience the unfairness and the inequality which women deal with. When I hear of the chaos theories and the eminent doom of our nation, it's reassuring to me that I understand their fear as fear of equality and a fear of leveling the proverbial playing field. It' appeases my worries to know it's not inability that their fear but the ability to bring about change that worries them. I understand there will be opposition whenever a stand is taken, no new idea or ... have been implemented or allowed to come to fruition without meeting any resistance. But in this case is important to decipher the words that are being thrown around. A win by a minority candidate now means a change in the axis of power. A person who spats out chaos theories and world ending thoughts is only referring to their world. It's the underlying racism that still exist in our society, where white american males are afraid of not being in control. Believing their world would crumble if a minority candidate runs our country. Or is it deeper? Maybe they believe a win by a minority will be an equalizer, a change in the way minorities are treated, minorties can no longer be opresses if one runs the country. .. to be continued...

As the Saying goes...

Set yourself apart, but don't fart.
It's a saying that I use after I email, as sort a rebellion to the "reach for the sun because if you miss you'll fall upon the star" BS that has been floating around. I usually get a good laugh from people, but as crude as it may sound It has actual value to it. It means you want to set yourself apart, from others but not in a recalcitrant manner. You should try to stand for the good that you do, your accomplishments not by doing something devious or something imfamous that's going to lead people away from you.
So next time you're having trouble motivating the crew or need that closing statement. just say set yourself apart, but don't fart.

Wedding Planner

Has anyone out there ever planned a wedding? It's a rhetorical question, because I know most people have; but yet, it seems like I'm the only one who doesn't know about any of the details that go into having a wedding. My fiancee and I got engaged in January, and we've been planning for what is suppose to be the best day of our lives ever since. To my surprise, a wedding includes more than a justice of the peace, bridesmaids, food, and a DJ. For example, did you know that you have to send a "Save-the-date" card.?I thought those were called invitations. It seems you have to remind people to save that date and later on send an invitation as to why they're saving the date. Now I could understand if it was some sort of surprise, if people didn't know what they were saving the date for. Like, "hey I got a save-the-date card from Huguens. I wonder what the bastard's got up his sleeves now? That Huguens-- always planning something." But it's not. The date and the event are on the same card, you know, sort of like an invitation. What if someone receives a save-the-date card without an invitation to follow? Because you know its seems inevitable you'll be invited. Is that date now in limbo? Do you continue to save the date? For how long? When is it OK to go ahead and make plans? Do you go anyways, because you did save the date and all? I wonder what chain of events inspired the save-the-date card in the first place. Were people getting upset when they received their invitations with just three months notice? Who were the people saying, " Damn it! Their wedding is on the 15th of August. I've made plans with Delila since February. Wish we had a way of knowing ahead of time to protect that date."
I suggested we call everyone to remind them or just blog it: "August 15 don't forget"; but that was thrown out like the rest of my ideas.