Filipino DemiGod in the Days of Friendster

There have been so many new social networking sites develop in the last few years that now many people have multiple accounts; I, myself, have one on Facebook and Myspace, although I rarely ever use the latter.

Does anyone remember Friendster? Does Friendster still exist, I don't know. The one thing I remember about Friendster--that's happened to me nowhere else--is that I was befriended by a large number of Filipinos, who I had never met, nor spoken with. I only have two Filipino friends, brothers, and neither of them knew any of the people who had befriended and were following me online. Their belief was that the name "Freeland" must be closely related, and therefore easily mistakable, to one of the demigods within the Filipino pantheon. I couldn't find a better explanation for it then, or since.

This phenomenon only happened on Friendster, failing to happen anywhere else. Maybe it was a system glitch. Maybe the world got too big and the amount of people online and logged in to social networking sites became too massive, too diluted with people. Maybe the world got worse, and demigods don't cut it anymore.

Dog Day Afternoons in Poo Corner

There is pee on the floor.

I'm sitting with three dogs underfoot: two labradoodles, and one blue heeler. There is a brown-spotted dalmatian, Balzac, who is walking around sniffing the floor, most likely waiting for one of the other dogs to crap. So he can eat it.

In the other pen, the Puppy Pen, most of the dogs are laying down for their afternoon nap.

Yes, my latest occupation: Pooper Scooper extraordinaire! I'm sitting for dogs at a daycare and animal school in Warren, Rhode Island. While I'm still aggressively searching for work, this job pays the bills and allows me time to read, write, and continue drinking copious amounts of coffee. I'm learned to almost ignore the smells.

A Tribe Disbanded

The summer is over, and I have again parted company with those glorious individuals I have had the pleasure of living and working with these past few months. Camp has demobilized its summer force, sending them across the globe from which they came. Most have returned to college life, but some are beginning new lives, unemployed and focusing on that next horizon, whether that be an Australian one or an Iowan one.

And my tribe, my Hero's Journey tribe, which disbanded months ago, has settled into their new lives, as white-green as spring buds, in West Virginia, Washington state, Oregon, Colorado ... My fellow shepherds, all of us without a current flock, still standing with crooks in one hand and coffee mugs in the other, not wondering where our sheep have gone, but wondering instead where our next pasture lands will be.

For the next 9 months at least, my pasture lands will be close to Bristol, Rhode Island. I have interviews and meetings arranged for employment, but nothing definite yet. As for residence, I am waiting to hear whether or not I have been approved for a studio apartment two miles north of Roger Williams University. In the mean time, I am reading Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance and Pride and Prejudice in tandem, starting rugby practice with the Providence Rugby Club again, and taking free yoga classes, all in the hopes of trying to find a center again from which to work, from which, I hope, creativity and design will wellspring.

Gang Aft Agley

It's been long, too long, since I've published a post. Those both of you who are waiting for me to write again may even be disappointed with this post as well.

There is no such thing as "me time" when you are working at Camp. The best intentions I've had to publish something small over the last few weeks have, ultimately, gone awry.

I can tell you that there is a strong possibility that I have found a job, post-Camp, and that I will most likely be living in Bristol, RI, for the next 9 months. Once I've had a chance to settle in somewhere, the writing will be more frequent and, hopefully, more consistent.

If I hope to accomplish anything with this blog, it is to provide all both of my readers with a humorous thought or image to carry with them for a second, a minute, an hour, or the day. That image today is ...

I cut myself shaving last night. I was exhausted and not being careful, and when I brought the razor back up to my lip, I came across my upper lip, sideways, and sliced two, neat, inch-long cuts into my upper lip, on the left side of my mouth. Now, for the next few days, I anticipate all food and drink having to enter through the right side of my mouth before it can be masticated and swallowed.

Defining "Haussome"

Session 3 of the Hero's Journey program wrapped up two days ago, and tomorrow we will be heading into the woods for another Session. There are so many observations, reflections, and stories from the week--too many to post now. The one thing I will say is that we taught the participants the meaning of the word "hauss," and likewise what it means to embody "haussomeness." Some examples include:

-A girl who came into the program with both a fear of cooking and of insects, helping to make dinner for everyone on the second full day, as well as ridding her own space of the forest creatures that had managed to find themselves in there.

-A muscular, able, strong, 6'4'' lad raising his hand to ask for help.

-A stand-in-front leader, who was able to take a step back and lead from the side.

-A shy, quiet girl, who spoke up when things needed to get done immediately.

-Another girl, afraid to descend from a 30' tower, zipping into the rainy darkness, blindfolded.

There are stories about all of them, how they successfully met and triumphed repeatedly on their Road of Trials. I speak for the rest of my fellow counselors when I say, "We are all very proud of you."

Graduation Déjà Vu

It seems as if I graduated with my Bachelor's degree in English last year. After all, I did complete all of my graded assigned requirements, bought my cap and gown (skipped on the Honor's tassels--$14?!), participated in Commencement, received my empty diploma, smiled for pictures, had a party, etc. ... Oh, wait a minute, that's right, I never turned in my ungraded Writing Portfolio! The Writing Portfolio for Eastern Connecticut State University consists of a collection of an English major's writing over their time at ECSU, as well as a 300-word essay on what being an English major means to them. Well, I thought it was bullshit, so I never did it. Until March of this year.

I just got a letter from Eastern basically stating, "Congratulations! You've now passed all of our requirements for graduation." So now, instead of having a printing of a 2008 graduation date, my diploma will be printed with a 2009 graduation date. Big deal. I still graduated a year ago. Chalk another score under the "W" column for this guy.

Stand Up and Rock the Boat

As fate would have it, it turns out that I'm going to be in an off Broadway production of Guys & Dolls tomorrow evening. My girlfriend, as some of you know, is a theater major at Roger Williams University. A mutual friend of ours, who was also a RW graduate, had some folks drop out of the show a week before, leaving him scrambling to fill their places. Now, the last time I graced the stage was over a decade ago, for our high school play ... Guys & Dolls. I know the music, some of the dance movements, and I have a pretty good idea of the blocking, which, apparently, makes me an ideal last minute candidate for the role of "Male Chorus Member."

Luck, be a lady these next two days?