Nope. Nothing. Not one thing to say.

On Saturday I was at Trader Joe's. Saturday morning. So I was standing there. I was standing there holding a red basket looking at the crackers: "Sesame Melba." So I was standing there looking at the Sesame Melba crackers and this lady. This old lady was also standing there with me. Standing there with me looking at the Sesame Melba crackers. She spoke. She was standing next to me when she spoke. "They look like pieces of toast." She said they looked like little pieces of toast. Standing next to me in Trader Joe's on Saturday morning the little old lady said the Sesame Melba crackers looked like little pieces of toast. She had a thick accent. She spoke in her thick accent "They look like little pieces of toast." She spoke in her thick eastern European accent "They look like little pieces of toast." I smiled. I smiled and looked at her. I smiled and looked at her and looked back at the crackers. I smiled and looked at her and looked back at the crackers and said "Yes." I smiled and looked at her and looked back at the crackers and said "Yes they do." I smiled and looked at her and then looked back at the Sesame Melba crackers and said, "Yes they do. They look exactly like little pieces of toast."

This morning my sister had her second child. On the kitchen floor. She wasn't aware of the contractions until it was too late, but the dula was there, as well as a grandma, who is an experienced mid-wife. 11:15 AM East Coast Time. On the west coast I was meditating. No trans-continental psychic premonition to report. I haven't actually spoken to my sister about this, as they went to the hospital soon after, but my mom called to tell me the news. She also reported that they didn't have a name for the baby yet, but it's boy, and now I have a nephew. How exciting! I'm totally going to reenforce stereotypical gender roles every chance I get. Somewhere in this conversation my mom also reported that when I was a little child, I was called the baby until one day, one and a half years old, I overheard them talking about me and said my name wasn't baby, but Tyler.

In 1987 Tyler was reported as the number one male baby name. Therefore there are a a lot of 23 year old Tylers running around, and quite a few also have my last name, which I discovered after having to click 'next' six or seven times to find my profile on Facebook via a name search. The anonymity of having a common name is kind of nice, as I can almost pass off some of these embarrassing blog posts as written by somebody else. And it helps that I'm a little bit older than most of the Tylers out there, which explains my first name last name gmail address, and the fact that I get all kinds of email from other people's parents, Honda dealerships, and contact lens suppliers. For a while I was on a mailing list for a church group in the Philippines. It sounded like they were having a lot of fun over there.

Since I don't have any children, and my two cats were pre-named when I got them, I don't really have much experience naming anything asides from poems and songs, and usually, unless the name is self evident, it's really difficult to think through to a good name, though I tend to favor keeping it simple and unsymbolic. For example, instead of naming a poem "Violent Rainbow" I would tend towards "Puke Bucket." The mineral fact of calling it what it is. Anyway. I need to get ready for class. Here is today's birthday horoscope for April 13th, which may or may not apply to a newborn:

You'll make a difference in the lives of others. Over the next six weeks, your glowing smile attracts good fortune. In May, work provides the opportunity to recognize your own power and assert yourself. You'll begin a new regimen in June, and loved ones will follow your lead. You'll give your domestic scene a makeover in July. Aquarius and Virgo people adore you. Your lucky numbers are: 4, 25, 40, 19 and 16.

In second grade we watched a film strip about Europe. In the middle of the strip, while the lights were off, I raised my hand and announced to everyone that I had been to Europe on a family vacation. Mrs. Rocco said "How wonderful!" and asked if I would bring in some pictures, but I told her that my family had forgotten the camera. A couple weeks later, when my friend Aaron's dad came by to pick him up after a sleepover, he asked my mother and I, standing in the doorway about our European vacation. I muttered something and wandered away. I was never asked about it again.

Seven years old, at the Platteville Invitational Swim Meet huddled under blankets with a bunch of other kids, mostly older, I announced that I was gay and had AIDS. 1985. I did not know what either word meant. Encouraged by the attention, later I announced that when a dog pissed, I would stick my hand in the hot stream of urine, and when a dog shit, I would smear the shit with my fingers. Because I went to school in Madison, they had no way of knowing if any of it was true, no context. But in retrospect, maybe they were just amazed somebody would claim such things.

Later that summer, in love with the game Discs of Tron, one afternoon I walked up to the little arcade on main street and quickly lost two or three games. The adults there asked me where my dad was, and when I got back he asked me where I got the quarters. I found them under the couch looking for a lost library book, I said, though I actually got them from the bathroom, quarters falling out of my dad's pants as they always were. I don't know how he knew, but he didn't believe me. I wasn't allowed to ride with him on his motorcycle until I told the truth.

To continue on this dream thing, because I've been dreaming a lot lately or at least have been remembering my dreams a lot lately, two nights ago I had a dream where I met Jesus. I was in an old cabin, that used to belong to Susan, and had found a box of crackers that were pretty old but I thought were still good. I carried it around and looked at the dusty books on a book shelf in the middle of the room like you might find in a book store. When I went outside Jesus was standing there. I was a surprised that I was taller than him, but then thought about it a little bit, how people are generally much taller now due to diets high in protein than we were back in the day, and it made sense. I don't remember what we talked about. He was serious and a little intimidating. During the conversation it seemed to make a lot of sense to become a Christian, but I was a little worried how my friends and family might take the news.

Recently in an issue of the New Yorker there was a long article about a guy who got deep into Scientology and got out, eventually. Apparently one of the tenants is that when you advance to a certain level you are expected to cut off ties with anyone who is not also a Scientologist, including your parents and your children. The logic being that since this is the first generation of Scientolgists, some painful sacrifices will have to be made. During a latter part of the Vipassana Meditation course that I've taken the last two summers, Goenka (the teacher) talks about when you "plant the seed of Dharma" you have to build a fence around it, so the cows milling around don't munch on the growth. A lovely metaphor that practically applied, for me at least, means make time for meditation even if I have to say no to friends. Which is the hard part. Like MF Doom says, "Is he still a fly guy clappin' if nobody can hear it / And can they testify from inner spirit."


Like that crazy dude in the park doing kung-fu moves with headphones on. Last night I dreamt of taking a walk through the woods with an ex-girlfriend, and just like in my waking life, felt insecure. I was not actually in the woords but I did actually feel insecure. Jesus (the one my dream) was just a culturally convenient vehicle. Last night Bill and Erika came over for dinner. At some point, talking about Oakland because they also live in Oakland, talking about the move and all the bad juju that I moved to Oakland with; I said my attitude wasn't about Oakland but about how settled I was in San Francisco, and the fear of leaving that behind. And now settling into Oakland, I'm feeling just as content at I did in SF, and I'm thinking maybe it has nothing to do with the place at all. A cliche I've heard many times, but has taken awhile to prove true in my actual life. It's really easy to get confused about reality. Anyway, Wednesday. Time to get ready for class.