Preparations

At the moment, I am dilligently preparing for NYE in the Big Apple. As a matter of fact, this will be my first such experience in this fair city. And the city is treating me quite well: the weather is fine (i.e., above 40 degrees), my hand is feeling better (don't ask), and there are a few million people patiently waiting to party it up tonight in celebration of 2004's end and 2005's beginning. You can almost feel the debauchery in the air - the calm before the storm, or so it would seem.

Needless to say, tonight should be fun, if not action-packed.

Happy New Year's to everyone out there, wherever you may be celebrating tonight!

Do real men wear pink?

Regardless of how wearing the now-trendy color would affect my classification as a male, I am not eager to join the pink-adorned ranks of NYC, thank you very much. And that is precisely why I have to return the latest Christmas present I received.

To be less vague, the present to which I am referring is a Kangol beanie, which I requested just a few days before coming home. Originally, when I stumbled upon this winter garment on the 'net, I immediately warmed (pun intended) to the brown/tan two-tone variety. But since I couldn't seem to locate anything more than an image of that color scheme on the Kangol website and elsewhere in cyberspace, I requested the one in dark grey/light grey.

Let's just say "dark grey" is an egregious misrepresentation or, at the very least, a wee bit of an understatement - the damn thing is light grey and PINK. Well, okay, to be completely honest, it's more lilac than pink. (For those who, like me, only know the names of about 10 colors, lilac is a soft, light purple.) Keep in mind, however, it's not as if this correction mitigates the harm done. In fact, lilac represents even more of a serious affront to my fashion sense (if you'd be so kind to allow me one).

So, back to the store it goes, as all pink-hued articles of clothing must when they make their way to my closet. For now and the foreseeable future, I am to remain pink-free (or lilac-free, whatever).

Here's proof. 

Some strange alien material is falling from sky

And I'm not exactly sure what it is.

Just after finishing up an all-you-can-eat sushi meal - slash - Torts review session, Brian, Kevin and I emerge from the restaurant only to notice that there is something raining down from the heavens. Kevin and Brian assure me it is "snow" and I assure them it is "cold". Wow, this marks the first time I have ever lived in a place where it snows. Actually, I think it snowed once or twice in Fairfield during the 15 or so years I was a resident but, for purposes of this post, that doesn't count.

The 31st is going to be one chilly NYE.

So, here I am sitting at the computer, looking out my window...

trying to decide how many layers I'll need to be warm today. It looks nice - sunny, very few clouds in the sky, the various wires strewn about the rooftops are not flapping too much, which indicates that it's not all that windy (wind is the real killer when it's sub-40). I mean, if I were in California I would estimate the temperature to be somewhere around the mid-60s based upon my visual evaluation. But thanks to first-hand experience thus far in New York - and Yahoo! weather - I know better. Evidently, someone who has already been outside today insists that it feels like 38 degrees, which is to say it will feel uncomfortably cold to me. Dammit.

So, with the knowledge that it is almost cold enough to turn me into a giant ice cube, I now have to ask myself the following questions: Which jacket should I wear? How many undershirts? Warm socks or standard white ones? Gloves or bare-fisted? Should I finally break down and buy a fucking scarf (not a big fan of suffocation, myself)? And where the hell is that beanie that I brought from home? All this at a time when the only thing on my mind should be the legal principles of negligence and strict liability. If my grades turn out to be repulsive, I will blame the weather and it's constant attempts to beat me into submission.

Test 2: Finito

Oh man, not only did I just take one of the hardest tests I've ever encountered, but it is cold as a blizzard out here. Feels like -45oC to my California-spoiled self.

One down and two to go...

Only nine more days of this. The oasis is within view, but agonizingly out of reach.

Anyone wondering what I am up to at the moment and why I am not diligently writing updates for this website will be able to see from this photo that I am currently knee-deep in multi-colored notes in the pursuit of good grades.  

The Bay Area's newest music craze: Hyphy

One positive thing about attending a "Homie Thanksgiving" is that it is the perfect opportunity to catch up on all of the goings-on in the Bay Area music scene. As expected, the attendees knew very little about the existence of any up-and-coming trip-hop DJs and even less about any underground post-rock groups in the area, so I had to settle for a report on the current state of Bay Area rap. To be frank and, simultaneously, to slightly embarrass myself, 10 years ago, this was my musical genre of choice (I've come a long way), so I did possess a slight curiousity as to what I had missed over the past year.

What I learned from the briefing was that the biggest phenomenon in Bay Area rap today is hyphy (pronounced hi-fee, not hi-fi). Being the ignorant, RJD2-listening person that I am, I had to ask: "What in the hell is hyphy?" According to my learned instructor, the word refers to a eponymous song by a group called Federation, which features E-40 and an out-of-this-world Rick Rock beat that is not so much music as a collection of drum beats, odd sound effects, and some guy mumbling incoherently. Just yesterday, I finally downloaded the song and found it to be crass and unpolished as Bay Area rap usually is but catchy in a thump-in-the-trunk kind of way.

If you didn't know (and who would?), hyphy is slang for hyperactive, a phase most people outgrow before the time they reach puberty. Apparently, the Bay Area music scene has, as a collective, not given up on being "hyphy" and, instead, embraced the "hyphy lifestyle". In true "I've Got 5 on it" style, there is even a remix floating around that features various Bay Area artists, an obvious attempt to cement Hyphy as a Bay anthem. It seems to be working, as even MTV.com has picked up on the buzz and penned a story on the subject (http://www.mtv.com/bands/h/hypy/news_feature_110804/).

For all of us from wonderous Fairfield, the best part of the hyphy hype is that at least one of the members of the Federation is from Fairfield, a fact which is proclaimed loud and clear on a t-shirt that appears in the song's video. Why I am proud that these guys come from home town is a mystery that will never be explained. And, truth be told, I'm not sure I want to know the answer.

Side note:
From my extensive research after the fact, I have discovered that there is a six-part test to determine if you are hyphy. Feel free to take it at your leisure. Rigorous scientific testing shows that if you answer "yes" or "perhaps" to 4 out of the 6, you are considered ignorant, self-centered, wasteful, and just plain dumb enough to live and prosper in Northern California.

Have you ever:

1) "made them nosey neighbors want to call the cops"
2) "gotten crooked up and down the block"
3) (I can't really decipher this from the song but I think it has something to do with owning a "scraper" or "drop-top", both of which are cars, I presume.)
4) "getting pulled over and won't stop"
5) "danced on the hood of your partna's Caddy"
6) "made a baby's momma slap a baby's daddy"

Are you hyphy?