On the train ride home today, I heard a guy behind me say, in a slightly agitated voice, “I can’t believe how hot it is in here.” Upon these words, I immediately tensed up and expected the worst. When people make unsolicited announcements like that, you can’t help but wonder what their deal is. In general, Americans don’t handle stress very well. And when placed under extreme amounts of pressure, we’ve been known to do some pretty outrageous things.

The guy’s statement might have been nothing more than an off-hand comment. But I think it’s more than likely that he was announcing to the rest of the patrons riding the train: “If it were five degrees warmer in here, and I had a machete, I’d be getting stabbity up in here.” Alternately, you could interpret his complaint to mean, “I’m a few degrees away from freaking out and going on a manic shooting spree in an effort to relieve this train cabin of body heat.” Morbid sense of humor, I know. But don’t blame me. Blame those anger management flunkies that ruin everybody else’s good time.

Some might call me paranoid, but I’d like to think of myself as overly vigilant. That distinction sets me apart from all of the crazies, you see?

Posted by KZ on 09/28/04

My Friend: you know i’m confused about why you’re wearing glasses in the picture on your blog when you don’t wear glasses at all….unless you’re trying to look emo. they make your nose look weird
Kevin: just to make me look smart
Kevin: not emo
My Friend: oh right
Kevin: it was really the only good picture of me that i wanted to use
Kevin: makes my nose look funny?
My Friend: yeah your nose looks huge
Kevin: lol yeah it does
Kevin: i have a huge nose. so what would you suggest? small rectangular rims?
My Friend: i dunno it’s probably just the angle of the picture
Kevin: oh great. my nose looks huge from certain angles. period.
Kevin: it ain’t the glasses, it’s the genes
My Friend: LoL i dunno just saying
Kevin: i was thinking of changing my blog description to “the glasses make me look smarter”
Kevin: you know, as kind of a joke for people that would ask me why i’m wearing glasses
My Friend: do people ask you that?
Kevin: you’re the first, but i know others are thinking it
Kevin: what do you think? change it?
My Friend: no i like the one you have
Kevin: yeah, me too
Kevin: so to summarize
Kevin: i either look like a poser, or a big nosed emo. does that cover it all?
My Friend: basically.
My Friend: well a big nosed emo poser
My Friend: =O)
Kevin: cold

Posted by KZ on 09/23/04

It’s not as if I’m easily offended by vulgarity and salaciousness, but I believe everything has its time and place. I don’t know about you, but I feel dirty every time I check my email at school. I’m surrounded by books and scholarly people, and what’s on my computer screen? Solicitations from lonely housewives, barely legal teens, barnyard animal fetishists, and people that want to enlarge my penis. I know I’m not the only one that has to deal with that kind of stuff in my inbox at school, but I still feel like a creep for dragging it into a place of higher learning. It all amounts to tactless timing. I mean, why don’t I just break into an anecdote about blowjobs over dinner next Thanksgiving? Come to think of it, that is something to be thankful for. Okay, bad example.

Posted by KZ on 09/20/04

“How’s law school treating you?” read the text message. I kept my cell phone off all day until classes let out at four in the afternoon. Carlos had sent me the message at ten in the morning. I stared at the message, gave it a lot more thought than I probably should have, and I finally settled for a simple response: “No time to sleep.” It was a good enough answer at the time, seeing as how I had a long night of research ahead of me.

In all reality, my sleeping habits are the best they’ve been in over a year. And yet, it feels as though I never get enough rest. Given all the time I’m asleep, I’m actually surprised at how tired I’ve been lately.

But don’t let that worry you. It’s good times, ‘Los. Honestly.

Posted by KZ on 09/17/04

I remember watching television with my father on the afternoon of September 11, 2001. All day long, footage of the flaming buildings kept flashing across the screen, but I never looked away, even when I grew tired of seeing it. I was paying penance for all of my past years of blissful ignorance. There inevitably came a point during the day when my disbelief faded, and soon it grew into anger and bewilderment. Who would do this? What would motivate anybody to kill so indiscriminately? How the fuck did a bunch of zealot yahoos manage to kill three thousand people with a couple of box cutters? It was surreal to the point of absurdity.

By early evening, news reporters began to speculate on the possible origins of the hijackers. Almost simultaneously, the networks came to an unofficial consensus, and they were all showing maps of Afghanistan. When my father saw the various networks’ graphics, he stood up and left the room. He came back a minute later holding a dusty globe that our family had long forgotten. He sat next to me, slowly rotated the globe, and placed his finger on Afghanistan. That was the country that we would hold accountable, he told me. War was declared on American soil, but we would end it on theirs. I nodded without a word and turned my eyes to the north. According to the globe, Russia was still calling itself the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics. It’s funny how much the world can change without your realizing it.

Since that day, the globe has never left the living room. I don’t always stop to look at it, but I’ve never forgotten that it’s there. The world has been a different place since the attack, and it will continue to change in the future, just as it always has. I appreciate that fact now more than ever. Since that day, I’ve chosen to stop ignoring the world.

Posted by KZ on 09/11/04

This weekend, while eating lunch at a Taco Bell, a stranger approached me when he noticed my copy of Don Quixote resting on the table. It was his favorite book, he told me, and he dutifully reads it once a year. I was tempted to ask him if he also enjoyed BDSM and cutting himself, but I thought better of it.

Posted by KZ on 09/06/04

On the drive home today, I noticed a truck bearing a bumper sticker that tells the world to “Pray the Rosary for Peace.” I don’t mean to sound fatalistic, but wouldn’t you think that Mary pretty much gets it at this point? And for that matter, don’t you think she’s had enough time to notify God about the whole mess? Come on now, the rosary is fifty Hail Mary’s long, and Catholics pray it like all the time. What’s the deal, Mary?

Posted by KZ on 09/04/04