Epiphanies and Epiphanots

Graphically Induced ramble.

2010-01-08T15:47:00.000-08:00

I miss her often. Don't know if that will ever go away.
I'd never met someone like her.
So feminine, yet so clearly also masculine.
I remember that long, flowing hair.
I never did find the perfect way to describe the color. All i could see were cascades flowing down over her shoulders in an hourglass figure, mirroring her silhouette.
Her body bent and curved in every perfect location. Every line and bone was deliberate and artful. Her very essence was precise and methodical.
How could I even stand a chance?
She was an ivory statuette. A canonization to every Greek god in Olympus.

But it wasn't until she was upon me that i finally saw her. It was her arms around me. It was the veins in her arms that pumped thick with blood hot with want. It was the way her fingers dug roughly into my flesh that made my muscles jump and my knees crumble.
It was her shoulders. They were always the last thing i could focus on. Every last sinew moved in time with the current flowing between us.
Her eyes would focus -- each cone and rod would align. She stared deeply into me. Then, time would cease to exist. Sometimes it would be faster, sometimes slower. The only constant was the inconsistency and the only fact was that it would always happen. And it did. She was the only proof I needed to stop believing in space or time. There is no time and there is no space.

There is nothing in these moments except for her and I moving together as we will our bodies to keep breathing and our hearts not to give out. We think only one last desperate thought as our eyes lock and our hearts stop.
"Her."
It was in those moments that i saw her and she saw me. She was fire and water.
She was Apollo and Poseidon.
And I was air. The only element they could not survive without.

Tumblr. Because its good for A.D.D

2009-12-25T22:15:00.000-08:00

So, i have a Tumblr now.
i write in it every day. It's conducive for my short attention span. And it's funny.

In conclusion, you should read it. Please?

http://karmendcastro.tumblr.com

Wetter? Not So Much Always Better.

2009-11-22T22:20:00.000-08:00

"I was thinking about you in the shower this morning."
This is something I say to people on a regular basis, and inevitably I have to (quickly) follow up with the disclaimer that the shower is where I do all of my thinking. Some people have the car ride to work, some people have their lunch hour, some also even have their designated poop time. For me, my thinking time has always been the shower.

A few days ago, as I was slowly rotating under the spray of hot water (conservationists, you may now begin to cry) I started thinking about all of the disgusting or otherwise embarrassing things people do in the shower. Myself included. There is something about the shower that erases any sort of behavioral code of conduct. Maybe it is the enclosed space and a sense of real privacy...or maybe it's the running water.

Before you get grossed out and start throwing judgments around, I want you to all admit at least in the privacy of your own home, that you do gross things too. Some may hawk a loogie into the tub, some blow their nose into their hands, some may pee in the shower, some (women) may even use the detachable shower-head to their advantage. Although, that is less gross and more efficient than anything.
So now that we're past that, we can move on to the whole point of this blog...:

Showers are not sexy.

We've all seen them on TV, we've read about them in those awesome trashy paper-backs with water-colored paintings as the covers, we've seen them in movies and I'm sure at one point or another, we've all been compelled into taking "romantic showers" by a lover.

First off, showers are by and large for one thing and one thing only -- to get clean. We don't shower when we smell good or when we're smooth and shaven. We shower when we have personal cleanliness to deal with. Personally, when I'm dating someone, even if a few boundaries have been crossed by a certain comfort around each other, I still go out of my way to look at least presentable on a regular basis around them.
I don't want them to see my hairy legs before I shave, or (and we all do this, and if you don't, you really really should) wash my butt-crack or belly button. The human body has many crevices and the shower was created to clean them ALL.
Do you really want to check your legs/armpits for any ingrown hairs in front of your girlfriend/boyfriend?
And are you REALLY ready to see them do the same?

Second, truth be told -- on a movie screen, steamy showers look really hot and sexy, yes. But most of us are not Angelina Jolie or Brad Pitt. Most of the population does not look amazing naked. I know I sure as hell don't. We all have our flaws and don't have a crew of make-up artists and lighting designers at our disposal. Add to that the awkward faces that we make when we're shampooing our hair or when we get soap in our eyes and desperately slip around the tub reaching for the shower-head to wash our eyes out.

Third, I don't have long hair. Though this is not true across the board, for the most part, the sexiest quality about a woman in the shower is the way her long hair drapes over her body, covering her up "just so" as water runs down over her body. I don't have the hot, flow-y quality to my hair. When my hair gets wet, the best I can hope for is the Zac Effron mop.

Maybe it's just me that has had incredibly awkward experiences in the shower. Maybe everyone else is graceful and sexy and doesn't have a single flaw on their body and they have amazing shower sex that would make Rose and Jack blush all the way from the Titanic.

All I know is if anyone ever again manages to talk me into taking a shower with them, I will have to prepare by taking a shower before the shower.

Farming

2009-10-26T22:45:00.000-07:00

I hope that all of the good i've sewn in this life adds up to something i can reap in the next life.

One of the many voices in my head just told me that goodness is its own reward. Okay, i'll buy that. But my karmic piggy-bank is still far too empty.

Life With The Undead

2009-10-23T18:10:00.000-07:00

There is nothing more terrifying than our own imagination. That is a simple fact. It is a fact that has been used and exploited by some of the greatest directors of horror film, among them the great Alfred Hitchcock. It is why reading a horror story will keep you up for days longer than the movie would. Anything we can imagine is a thousand times more horrible and perverse than that which we can be shown.

However, we are not all scared of the same things to the same degree. No, to me -- someone invading my home is not nearly as frightening as accidentally clogging the toilet in a public bathroom. (I guess maybe you wouldn't think so by seeing all of the various sharp weapons lying around my house -- but I digress.)
I think we can all agree, however, that there are a few things that we are universally afraid of: the paranormal, the end of the world, monsters from folklore, and the undead -- yes, that includes vampires and zombies. More interesting, though, is that even though we are terrified of these things (and have been for literally hundreds, and in some cases, thousands of years) we are simultaneously paralyzed with fascination over them.

Sparkly vampires aside (which I don't consider real vampires -- just a mutation of one, meant to appeal to pre-teen girls), the fascination of vampires, monsters, and the paranormal must stem from something completely separate from fear. It stems from a sense of romanticism and real human compassion. Vampires are nothing more than blood-thirsty hunters, yet we depict them as almost unbearably attractive, charming, brilliant and always, always tormented. Why? Because we always focus on who they used to be. Instead of making them 1000 year-old assholes (which is probably what they would be), we think of them as wise, but unable to control their killer instincts. This is a direct reflection on our obsession with wanting to change and, in a way, domesticate something that is wild in its very essence. "They are just misunderstood" is an argument you'll find in almost any book or movie about monsters or vampires. Are they? Or do we want them to be?

Another fascination is that with the paranormal. This one is obvious and fairly easy to explain. Ever since we have been able to cohesively create analytical thoughts, humans have been searching for the answer of what happens after death. Thousands of years, theories, tales, films and books have been written about it -- in fact, unarguably the most famous book in history was written about a man who died and rose again. We have sympathy for ghosts -- spirits who have unfinished business. We are afraid, yes, but we also have a deep and often inexplicable connection to them because we recognize that one day, we will be one of them. At least on some level. Ghosts, to us, must exist because we refuse to accept that there is nothing after death.

Easily the most interesting human obsession to me, however, are zombies. The undead. The plague. The walking horde. They are the ones that I am not afraid of as much as I am completely fascinated by.
Zombies are recognized as not having any semblance to a living human aside from the physical. They look like us, but their brains are shut off completely other than for their desire for human flesh. They are dumb, they are slow, but they are persistent and they come by the hundreds of thousands. One zombie is gruesome, but easily destroyed with a bullet or a lance to the brain, but a hundred zombies, a thousand zombies, ten thousand zombies, all inching so so slowly toward you -- that is a much different story.
They do not breathe air, they do not need food to survive, they walk under water, scratch and claw at doors and windows, not noticing that their fingers and legs have been worn down to the bone, or broken off altogether. They do not feel pain, they do not feel sadness, they do not feel fear.
They are machines. They are a mob. They have one goal in mind, and there is nothing that can stop it.
They can be your neighbor, your teacher, your grandparents, your brother, your parents, even your own child.

This is what i find so interesting about the zombie concept. It is a reflection of our own claustrophobic fear of being turned into a mindless machine that is just one in a horde of millions. It is a fear of our loved ones being lost to us forever and condemned to an eternity of wandering the earth as a monster that only survives by destroying.

All fears aside however, unlike our obsession with the end of the world, it is a fascination with an end to the world as we know it, but a chance to survive. A true demonstration of survival of the fittest. To know how to survive not only flesh-eating zombies, but disease, homelessness, natural disasters, animals, and of course the most dangerous threat of all -- other humans. That all takes intelligence, physical strength, emotional strength, mental strength, tenacity, agility, and the ability and willingness to kill without hesitation.

As a species, we have become unrecognizable to our former selves, to our ancestors. We have become disgusting and sedentary. Our fangs are about as useless as an asshole on an elbow. We have no idea how to survive outside of the luxuries of our everyday living and for the most part, have no desire to know. Even the "luxuries" that we have created with our own intelligence, serve no purpose other than to make it unnecessary to use our intelligence. We are like fat, content house-cats, spending every day staring out the window of our own domesticity. Longing to be like the wild felines that survive in the wilderness.

Enter, zombies.

This plague, this outbreak, this global pandemic, we see this as a chance to come into our own one more time. This is why unlike vampire books, zombie books and films are never about the zombies but about the survivors. We want to know how they did it. We want to know if we can do it. We dream of having a real reason to be physically fit, agile, disciplined and have instincts that are meant for one thing and one thing only. We want to outsmart when we are outnumbered. We want to know what it feels like to be prey and then become the hunter.

Haven't you ever wondered what you would do if there was an earthquake? Where you would go, how you would react, what would you do to come out alive?
Everyone has. We are trained to think of survival tactics from elementary school and we are taught to hide under our desks during an earthquake.
Zombies are like natural disasters, but unlike earthquakes, fires or tornadoes, these monsters are something we can defeat. Something we can destroy.

This is the real fascination -- we want to know how resilient we are, not only as a species, but as individuals.
Beyond the terror and immeasurable tragedy of a planet covered with the living dead, there is a true fascination and almost a desire to be tested in every way possible.
How strong is your drive to survive -- that is the question that we ask ourselves when we see zombie movies.

Truth of the matter is most of us are no longer able to tap into that primal instinct that allows us to fight for our lives and survive almost anything. But that will never stop us from looking out the window and wondering "what if.."

A Dot On The Map

2009-09-22T19:29:00.000-07:00

It's broiling here in Los Feliz. The smog in the city doesn't really make things any better either. A man jogged by my window a few minutes ago, drenched in grey-ish sweat, made yellow by his workout clothes. As he jogged in place at a stop light, he covered his mouth with his sleeve to filter out the toxins in the air. Lovely.

I wonder how long it will be before we all have to start wearing face-masks in Los Angeles. I'm sure someone will find a way to make them trendy. The new Winter-must-have.

So, i'm sitting here at my desk, telling myself I'm studying for my Philosophy exam, sweating in my pants and bra. I always forget about my tattoo until I see it in a mirror out of the corner of my eye. It's not much to behold -- in fact, it's a dot. Really, no bigger than an ink stain of a pen dropped tip-first onto my skin. But it's mine. And it's the only one I have (so far).

Every time I see it, I feel a slight pang of sadness because I remember the night I got it and that it will always be a reminder of how on that night, I came last to the very person I was in love with.

"come downstairs! I'm getting a tattoo!" I told her excitedly on the phone, standing just outside of the tattoo parlor she lived above.
"Seriously? Of what?" she replied, half unamused, half exhausted of my random antics.
"I dunno! A dot, I think." I laughed "you know how I want that long one along my ribcage?? Well I'm a big pussy when it comes to needles and I'm just really curious to know what it feels like. Plus, they're not gonna charge me! I want you to be here!" I asked, without asking -- I suppose.
"You're so silly babe. But my cat isn't feeling good. It'll be quick. So just come upstairs and show me when it's done." she replied, disinterested and still audibly tired of what I can only assume was me.

So. I got the tattoo, and her next door neighbour was the one to hold my hand through the 1.5 seconds of pain, which truthfully turned out to feel kind of good. Very proud of myself and my false bravery, I wore a smile as I walked out of the tattoo parlor, and up the stairs to my girlfriend's apartment. Making my way down the corridor, I stopped at her neighbour's door and stared. My heart broke. In that moment, I realized that someone I had met only one other time had been there for me instead of the person I had been in love with for almost two years.

I was no longer proud. I was sad and I was angry. The dull pain on my side slowly turned into a sharp sting as I knocked on my girlfriend's front door. The dot burned as I saw her face, staring curiously at me... almost wondering how on earth she was with someone like me.

Still, I loved her and brushed everything else aside, showing her the dot on my ribcage just beneath my heart. She laughed, saying "I can't believe you just got a dot." then walking away shaking her head and laughing.
I walked by myself to the bathroom mirror and interchanged between staring at the dot and staring at my eyes. They were watering. I felt her cat wrap his body around my ankle and purr. They watered more now. I closed my eyes and blinked everything back.

I walked back out to her and slid under the covers, claiming that I was just sleepy when she asked what was wrong.
I fell asleep, knowing two things for certain: She could see right through me and knew something was wrong. She was probably too tired to care.

Lesbian Advice For The Straight Guy: Episode 8

2009-08-04T14:17:00.000-07:00

We're back!
I've gotten a lot of complaints that i havent been giving enough truly "straight guy" advice, so for this episode i brought in 2 experts at being heterosexual men.
They have been heterosexual men for the past 22 years.

So, enjoy!

Part 1:

Part 2:

Tired of Twilight Tweens

2009-08-03T18:52:00.000-07:00

Recently, I joined my friends Russ and Phil for a cheap dinner and as we chatted over drinks we came to the topic of recent movies and how some of the highest grossing and most popular films are also the most ridiculous. There was a time when movies that were popular were real works of art. They had an amazing cast, a fantastic story, beautiful cinematography and came to life for every audience member. They were truly innovative.

Today, popular movies consist of fart jokes, dick jokes, terrible acting, mediocre and cliched storylines.

Toward the top of our "least deserving and most ridiculous" list was a movie that has so quickly become a worldwide phenomenon, yet when dissected -- has absolutely nothing to say.

Twilight.

Teen angst and teen vampire angst.

It is indeed a ridiculous movie, but it gives us the chance to sharpen our comedic, smart-ass chops.
So, we decided to record ourselves doing commentary for our own and hopefully, your own enjoyment as well.

Here it is, in all of its glory...

The Real Twilight Commentary. Unabridged and Unprofessional with Russ Ford, Phil Harrigan and yours truly.

Download the file, pop in your movie and sit back with your computer speakers up high and get ready to enjoy Twilight like never before.
It is VERY VERY important that you start the movie (and audio) at 00:00, otherwise it will not match up.

Let me know what you think! Good or bad.
If it's well-received, we're thinking of doing commentary to another movie.

Also... i think the site i uploaded the file to has a limit of downloads, so any advice on other (free) user-friendly websites would be greatly appreciated.

Alright, go go go!

Lesbian Advice For The Straight Guy: Episode 7

2009-07-30T17:30:00.000-07:00

In this installment, Charlene from the hit LOGO tv show "Gimme Sugar" joins me to discuss her experience in Miami, and as always answer your questions about love lost, girls and advice on the future.
We're not experts on anything, but we sure do have a lot to say about everything!

Part 1:

Part 2:

Part 3:

Neurotica

2009-07-14T22:11:00.000-07:00

Much like the French Revolution spotlighted the cataclysmic rift between its country’s Haves and Have-nots, I suspect that the following confession will divide my readers into two groups that will inevitably be at similar odds with one another – completely incapable of seeing eye-to-eye.

The bed-makers vs. the bed-leavers.

While I am completely easy-going about most things in life (or at least that is what all of my online profiles/roommate applications say), there is only one specific thing that I am uncharacteristically neurotic about:

The bed.

Oh yes, I understand that this admission of my situational insanity may very well destroy any chances I have of ever having a guest in my bed again, but I don’t care. I owe it to you all and also to myself to be honest.

When it comes to my bed, I have a need – no, a compulsion – to make it absolutely perfect. Every time I get new pillows, I spend days making the perfect imprint of my head in my preferred position. Every morning I Febreeze my sheets before hopping into the shower and then just before walking out the front door, I pull my sheets so tight over my mattress that I know a dropped penny would bounce off and lodge itself into my ceiling. Every night before I climb into bed, I make sure all of the sheet corners are tucked in and I slide into my little envelope of comfort, happy and satisfied that it will be impossible for any edge of my blankets to become un-tucked at any point during my R.E.M cycle.

This level of neurosis is never really a problem until a second person becomes involved and suddenly I’m made aware of my own quirks. “What do you mean, you like to move around in bed? Why do you need to move? You’re sleeping.” I often asked my girlfriend, arms crossed, both of us in a huff over who will have to concede over the matter. See, the problem with a bed is that there is only one. You can’t really agree to disagree or meet halfway because there is only one way to make a bed at any given moment.

So, like that, we would stand – staring at each other, waiting for one of us to crack, which of course never happened. She liked the bed as loose as possible, “why bother to make it all perfect if you’re just going to mess it up again?” to which I would reply “well then why wipe your ass after you poop if you’re just gonna poop again later??”

Back and forth it would go; she liked a single loose sheet covering her mattress and a completely un-tucked sheet strewn over the top acting as a comforter (I get anxiety just thinking about it.) and I would beg and plead for her to please get a mattress sheet that fit correctly. “BEDBUGS!! HAVE YOU NOT THOUGHT ABOUT BEDBUGS????” I could feel my skin crawl at the thought of those disgusting little creatures feasting on my dead skin cells, and deciding they liked the taste of me enough to carry me away from the bed in the middle of the night into a place where nobody would ever from me again. “I don’t HAVE bedbugs! Or ticks, or fleas or anything! I’m the cleanest person you’ll ever meet!” she would retort, incredulous at my accusation. And while that may have been true, it made very little (see: no) difference to me, because the only thing I could think about was the fact that when bedbugs bite you, it’s not that they are actually biting you – it is the male inserting its penis into your skin and THAT is what leaves that bump on your skin.

“Yes, okay, that IS disgusting, but the sheets are so tight that my feet fall asleep in the middle of the night!” She would plead. “Again, the rest of you is sleeping, so why not your feet too??” I would respond, unmoved. So, more often than not, I would make the bed the way I liked and as she climbed in, she would look at me with green eyes full of mischief, and then in the middle of the night she would kick the sheets out from the bottom of the mattress and breathe a happy sigh of smug relief. Of course, inevitably, I would wake up in a serious panic and shove her out of bed as I meticulously re-made the bed. 2am? 4am? Didn’t matter. I had a mission – and I would only sort of notice the expression on her face that screamed, “you’re joking”.

Sometimes, on special occasions, she would actually make her own bed the way I liked, and as I pulled her in to thank her I would notice an unmistakable look of love and pride in her eyes mixed with something even more beautiful – the expression of someone with a broken spirit.

That night, the battle would start all over again but it didn’t matter to us because we knew that no matter how normal you might think you are, you will always be neurotic to somebody else.

Drink Up, Me Mateys Yo Ho!

2009-04-12T23:23:00.000-07:00

Weeks ago i got an email from Greenpeace (they're the PETA of the environmental protection associations) with this as the subject:

"Are The Oceans Safe From PIRATES???"

Really, Greenpeace? Pirates? What next, Pirates Pillaging Pandas and Polar Bears?? (how ya like THAT alliteration??)

They tried to warn me, they IMPLORED that I listen, but come on -- Grey's Anatomy was on and I really couldn't be bothered to listen to a bunch of Patchouli-wearing hippies.

2 weeks later as I'm sitting, reading the news"paper" (aka: the interwebz) I come across a story that i couldn't even believe was real in this age.

On Wednesday, pirates (...yes...pirates) took control over a U.S cargo ship that was delivering food aid supplies to Somalia, Rwanda and Uganda. By combining the best parts of Lethal Weapon, Pirates of The Caribbean and some movie where the bad guys are from Africa, these Somalian pirates on speedboats (armed with missile launchers and army-grade tank-piercing machine guns) reached the ship "Maersk Alabama" and attempted to overtake the ship off The Horn of Africa. (a name that sounds less like an ocean passageway and more like a cure for Erectile Dysfunction.)

As this rag-tag team of pirates (none of which were under any ancient curse, sigh) hijacked the ship, the brave American Captain -- in order to save the lives of his crew -- sacrificed his own freedom in exchange for the ones of his men (has he not heard of Parlay?). The pirates, satisfied with just the captain, set the other crew members adrift on a tiny ship and kept the captain in their captivity.

Of course, the U.S. Navy immediately stepped in and since Wednesday they have regained control of the ship, but have been unable to rescue the Captain from the band of pirates.

Which really just leads me to one question... these pirates, while they are probably ruthless and not really as adorably-rough as Disney portrays them, can't REALLY be that much of a challenge to defeat. You know, with our millions of dollars worth of weaponry and trained-to-kill U.S. Navy SEALS.

Also... at this point... what exactly are the pirates holding out for? Do they want money? Do they want immunity? Do they want a fresh virgin at their disposal?

Seriously though, I'm pretty sure an entire army of Navy SEALS could overpower a band of maybe 30 or 40 militia-trained "pirates", especially considering the fact that they're holding an American hostage. I guess you only get rescued if you're a hot English damsel with terrible acting abilities.

Either way, to be honest, I'm a little disappointed with the whole predicament. There is no epic music, no sea-faring monsters, no witchcraft, no jaunty songs about "pillaging and plundering" for the pursuit of fun and NO DEMANDS FOR RUM!

Why is the rum always gone?

(ps: I realize I'm basing most of my assumption about pirates on Disney's portrayal of them. But really, do any of you have more experience with them than that? Thats right.)

update: the captain has been freed and 3 pirates are dead. Hooray! Democracy lives on!

A black president, a Russian president and nuclear bombs. Is this an action movie??

2009-04-04T17:50:00.000-07:00

So, as some of you may know, as a Journalism/International Relations major, i am constantly scouring the news for current events and interesting stuffz. I really do believe it is vital that people know not only what is going on in their own backyard or on the latest episode of The Hills, but also what happens internationally because -- lets face it, the United States educational system is incredibly egocentric and for the most part, we are completely oblivious to anything that goes on outside of our four metaphorical walls of baseball and apple pie.

Besides, international affairs are so much more interesting than anything you'll see on Flavor of Love. Like, SOOOOO totally full of DRAMAAA!

However, i sympathize that it can be a little involved and complicated to understand, so here -- in totally awesome bullet points, is a recap of the world's recent news. In a way we can all appreciate.

A la, Best Week Ever!

or something.

- First, earlier in the week, protesters against the G20 Summit (which is like the meeting of the Justice League, and Brazil is the one with hot tits that doesn't really DO much, but we keep her around because she makes our happy parts tingle.) caused an enormous riot in the streets of England in front of The Royal Bank of Scotland (confusing, i know) in protest of the self-awarded bonuses that CEO's from the failing bank gave themselves after receiving a federal bailout.
This is like if you ask the fat girl from high school out to prom because you felt bad for her, then she dumped you and went out with the Quarterback.

These protesters went ballistic. There were grown men in business suits getting into fistfights, random window bashing, anarchists complete with asinine posters saying things like "abolish money" (yeah, that's a well thought-out plan.), bank employees even dressed like homeless people just to get through the mob without getting attacked!
Britney Spears never had it this bad.
The topping on the cluster-fuck sundae, though? The bank executives and middle management leaning out of building windows waving MONEY at the people below that have none. Stay classy, Royal Bank of Scotland.

- This past Thursday was the G20 summit, hosted by none other than jolly ol' London! This is basically the Oscars for world politics. Except no red carpet and the things they affect your wallet. If the Justice League went to the Oscars, it would equal to the G20.
I will now list the members and include their general views on how to deal with this economic downward spiral into Hell:
Argentina - "we just want to Tango with the Devil!"
Australia - "I agree with England"
Brazil - "My tits are nice, no?"
Canada - "Well, aboot that, our medicare and welfare program is super good, eh? So we agree with England too. We are one of their colonies after all."
China - "MORE THINGS MADE FROM CHINA! SELL EVERYWHERE! STIMULATE GLOBAL ECONOMY! YOU PAY NOW!!"
France - "Sighhh..but i'm le tired! I am the President! Bah, 1 million of my citizens demand a stimulus. I blame you MTV with your hippy hop and rock and roll!"
Germany - "We're still recovering from fucking WWII and you want us to spend MORE money?!?!"
India - "You have already outsourced all of your businesses to us. You snooze, you lose, my friend."
Indonesia - "Fair trade? no thank you. We are happy selling knockoff jeans."
Italy - "Bippity Boppity we agree with France for once! Bippity!"
Japan - "Your wasteful ways have destroyed us America-San. Moderation is what we need."
Mexico - "We have other shit to deal with, Ese"
Russia - "Obama, you are much smarter than that cowboy, Bush. We believe stimulus could work."
Saudi Arabia - "Now who will buy our oil?? DAMN YOU OBAMAAAA!!"
South Africa - "Stimulus?? No."
South Korea - "NUCLEAR WEAPONS?!! WE DONT HAVE! oh...oh...i mean... no stimulus."
Turkey - I have no idea.
United Kingdom - "Our people pay GST and PST, but that means we have medicare and welfare that is unparalleled. Stimulus would just further our debt. We can ride this out."
United States - "You gotta spend money to make money."
andddd...
European Union - "RABBLE RABBLE RABBLE RABBLE RABBLE!!"

So, needless to say -- going into the Summit, Obama really had his work of convincing the rest of the world's powers that a stimulus package was the way to go.
Most people said it would be impossible: "It will be a confrontation between 2 worlds: One that wants more regulation and one that wants less..." but, it turns out that Obama is not only the coolest human on the planet, but also the smoothest.
He convinced most countries that a STIMULUS WOULD BE THE WAY TO GO.
i mean, how can you deny him?? He gave the Queen of England a freaking iPOD! Amazing.

He is smoother than James Bond.

And as former International Monetary Fund Chief Economist, Simon Johnson says, "Europe must stop dragging its feet, or risk another Great Depression."

This is prooobably not an issue we should procrastinate on, Europe.

Beyond that??
Obama met with the new Russian president, Dmitriy Anatolyevich Medvedev (tell me that doesn't sound like a James Bond title), and even after decades of piss-poor relations between the United States and Russia.. all Obama had to do was look into Medvedev's big blue eyes and smile. Dmitriy Medvedev melted into a puddle like a tween at a Jonas Brothers concert.

Now Russia has agreed to sign a treaty to reduce the number of nuclear arms in Russia (a treaty that the Bush administration had refused to sign. Probably because they could not pronounce "nuclear".) and also to help reduce it all over the world.

The best part of this? Aside from the beautiful romance blooming between Obama and Medvedev? Russia has agreed to help talk to Iran and North Korea (the U.S's crazy ex-girlfriends) to help relations between countries! This is like becoming friends with the leader of the assholes that bullied you in middle school!
Hopefully, Russia will issue a proverbial slap upside N.Korea's head and tell it to stop acting like such a petulant fucking child with a magnifying glass and some ants.

We have yet to see how it turns out.
So stay tuned.

(Didnt i tell you it was full of awesome drama? You're welcome.)

Lesbian Advice For The Straight Guy Episode 6

2009-03-29T12:48:00.000-07:00

YAY!! finally!!!

It's All Greek To Me

2009-03-15T11:52:00.000-07:00

I was recently listening to an NPR story on language and how when used in ways appropriate to your audience, it can do wonders to get your point across. NPR discussed how President Obama (god, typing that still feels good) uses language differently when he is speaking to a largely white and affluent audience, then a suburban audience and then an urban or inner city audience.
Just by changing the inflection of his voice, the meter of his speech, or even his posture and gesticulations he could make anyone from any social group feel at ease.
They also focused on the fact that he actively changed his vernacular to appeal to his black audience, latino audience or white audience.
Now this is what I have a problem with.
As an immigrant to the United States, having gone through the process of learning and mastering the English language as my second tongue, I have to admit that the slow -- yet steady -- decline of English has become one of my biggest pet peeves.
Beyond that, it has become a real concern of mine.

I can't count the number of times that I have been sitting in a public area just minding my own business when I overhear a conversation that usually goes something like this:

Girl with big glasses and Ugg boots: "i dunno! like this guy was tryin to talk to me, ya know? but like he kept saying things that i just didnt understand, like using big words and stuff. Its like um okay i know youre smart like duh! i swear like some of the words were made up. What does dera...uh...derrogra....derrogratery? derogatory? okay whatever. what does that even MEAN?? Speak ENGLISH!!"

I wish I were joking.

And it's not only white spoiled rich girls that suffer from this serious lack of language usage. It's every age group and every sub-group.
With every generation that goes by we are less and less inclined to learn how to properly use English. It is often accused of being a less flowery and expressive language in comparison to Spanish, French, Japanese or the like -- tell that to Fitzgerald or Samuel Clemens. Not ringing a bell? Okay, how about Shakespeare?
The English language is extremely rich and powerfully descriptive when used correctly. Any major work of literature is proof enough of that.

And that is the big problem i have. Why change your language or speech patterns when addressing yourself to different audiences? Is that not a disservice to the very audience you are speaking to?
In short, is dumbing down your language the same as dumbing down your audience?

Now before i'm accused of being prejudiced or hypocritical, please hear (read?) me out.
YES I do often use different language to address different people, but that is always in an informal setting. In a bar with my guy friends, of course i'll change the way i speak from when i am speaking to my professor, but will I dumb down my own speech in order to reach the people i'm talking to? Hell no.
Also, i completely understand (and have studied) the entire culture behind the slang used in different sub-cultures. I know that it is not only a part of how they speak but also a part of how they live and how they relate to others.

That brings us to the second part of the argument:
Isn't it true, then, that to know how to be understood by all is the true measure of a mastery of any language?

I don't know how much i agree with this. While yes, on the surface, the statement is undeniably true -- where is the limit? Where can the line be drawn between using slang to be understood and using slang because those are the only words you are familar with?

I personally have no idea.
All i know is that I am deeply concerned about the state of the younger generation and how they relate to the world. Am I going to reach my 50th birthday only to have some 30-year old approach me with a "what up brah'?"
A daily bombardment of terrible language and equally abominable media has my generation and those after mine on the losing end of this undeclared war.
Perhaps if we just pick up a book, or use our own brains to grow and refuse to conform our own vernacular to that of those around us, then maybe we stand a chance.

Maybe.
Either way, i'll go down swinging.

New NEW vlog!! Episode 5!

2009-03-01T15:02:00.000-08:00

Hot lesbians talking about stuff.
Lesbian Advice For The Straight Guy: Episode 5

We Interrupt Your Regular Programming:

2009-02-25T13:40:00.000-08:00

So, it's been a while since I've written. What can I say? My personal life sort of fell into a million tiny pieces faster than I could deal with it, so I had to take a bit of a hiatus from writing. See, although writing (for me) is cathartic -- it is also a very mentally and emotionally taxing exercise. So naturally, I did everything except write, just to avoid dealing with my emotions.
Besides, who wants to read a bunch of broken-hearted whining on my blog? I write on here to make you guys laugh and think. Not to be a buzz-kill. I try to put a humorous spin on everything, but I just can't in this situation. At least not yet.

So, on that note, I present to you a semi-serious blog entry:

There are people in your life that come and once they go, their short stay is no surprise. Then there are some people, friends or otherwise, that you're convinced will be in your life forever.
Over the past two years I was lucky enough to have a girlfriend that I could truly call my best friend. She and I did everything together. We fell asleep together, woke up together, made love, we traveled, we lived, we laughed and shared a love so deep and strong that even strangers on the street would stop us to comment. We built our own world and lived an eternity in just one day.
I was convinced that this was the woman I would spend the rest of my days with -- and even that would never be enough time with her.

Unfortunately, life is like a crappy vending machine -- you push the button for Coca-Cola and it gives you a Dr.Pepper. Life never really goes the way you plan and no matter how much you pray and hope for something, everything can be swept out from underneath you before you even have the chance to get your footing.
There is no one to blame (which, quite honestly just makes things harder) and no clear reason as to why things turned out the way they did. Maybe it was stress, maybe it was life, perhaps it was bad timing. Maybe she grew bored of me long ago and fell out of love, only to realize it now. Maybe she no longer wants a life with me or with anyone else.
Maybe it was me, maybe it wasn't.

All of these questions are painful to deal with or think about, but I've come to the realization that it doesn't matter. The answers don't matter. What is important is where you go from here. Life doesn't stop and wait for you to make sense of things. All you can do is keep living, seize the day and hope that with time things will work themselves out or at the very least become clear.

It took me a long time to get to this point but i have to give a lot of the credit to someone whom I've never even met or spoken to. A girl named Tea Dough. She once wrote me a beautiful letter about my love for my girlfriend and how obvious my complete adoration and devotion to her was, even across the computer screen to a world of strangers. Then once I informed her that we were no longer together, she said that it was my continuing unrequited love for her that meant more than anything.
I had never had anyone say that to me or even give it any merit. I didn't think it deserved any. After all, isn't that what love is?
Tea Dough continued, explaining that she had been going through some really rough times, but that whenever she would read my short messages on Twitter (i'm lame, i know.) regarding my ex, she wouldn't feel so alone. That perhaps a love like the one she pictured did exist. (I'm here to promise you it does.)

I suppose that is when the haze in my mind was lifted. Maybe this was no longer about only me. If what I was going through could help anyone even in the smallest way, then maybe it wasn't for no reason -- and maybe I was strong enough to get through it. In a way I suppose it was comforting because since I felt that this love was larger than me, then it was only fitting that the end of the relationship would be larger than me as well.

Perhaps in the future everything will line up again and we will come together once more -- loving each other more than ever, but until then I will be living life.
Thank you Tea Dough for helping me see beyond my own sadness. And thank you to Kali, Vashti, Adam, Leeanne, Ricardo, Nico and Michelle. You guys never fail to reach out from all corners of the world and cheer me up. You owe me nothing, yet you offer an ear and a shoulder at any given moment.
Last, thank you to my best friends; my boys. You guys have gotten me through some of my darkest days and you continue to do so. Also Gloria, Sandy and Malerie: We are new friends yet I cannot begin to tell you how much our nights out helped to pull me out of my depression. You guys are the coolest cats on the block, pretty much. Seriously though, i'm so happy you came into my life -- you're sort of a big deal.

Okay, thanks for reading, guys! I promise the next entry will be much more funny and not so full of Teh Sadz.

You may now return to your regular programming.

Lesbian Advice For The Straight Guy Episode 4

2009-02-17T12:09:00.000-08:00

hoorayyy!!
anal sex!

jk.
kinda.

Lesbian Advice - Episode 3

2009-01-30T19:29:00.000-08:00

Part 1

Part 2
Thanks for watching! Comment please =]

For Your Consideration

2009-01-26T21:41:00.000-08:00

This is something i wrote in English as a quick-write-warm up, so it's not polished -- don't judge me.
I'm just fairly happy with the way it turned out. This is more for me to record these moments. As proof that they did indeed happen.

Orchids stand peacefully by the windowsill, their perfume ebbs and flows through the long stretch of hallway. A single room, illuminated by rays of sun trickling through skylights, shy but eager to enter. The soft mew of a kitten breaks the silence as its tiny body wraps itself around your ankle -- feet and paws pad quietly along the cold wood floor to the windows that run from ceiling to floor. The fresh breeze is a welcome relief from the heat, accentuated by the cold feel of grainy brick against ten fingertips.
Art hangs from the walls -- postcards of foreign places yet to be seen. Photographs punctuate the room; some small and some larger than the eye can absorb, but all beautiful moments in the artist's imagination.
It is small, but it is comfortable -- organized in its own perfect inhabited chaos. It is not my place, but it is my home.
A stirring under soft white sheets, and green meets brown for the first time since they slept. Two white smiles, as soft beige skin finds its place in the ridges and valley of the tan warm body. Breathing in the familiar scent, fingers interlock and we are at peace within disorder.

Little Red Snow Cinderella with the 7 Dwarves??

2009-01-26T21:25:00.000-08:00

As I may or may not have mentioned, I am not a native speaker of the English language. I was born in Bogota, Colombia and lived there until I was but a wee tyke of 6. It was then that I moved to Vancouver, British Columbia and my entire immersion into the average American childhood was left up to television. My parents were fantastic when I was a child. They tried to teach me the stories they grew up hearing, and gave me a Hans Christian Andersen for me to read for myself. However, if any of you have read his book, you’ll find that they are really nothing like the Disney versions that kids become indoctrinated with from an early age. No, Hans loved himself some gore and plenty of hard learned morality. And I mean HARD learned.

The stories my parents and grandparents ended up telling me were actually more along the lines of the sorts of stories that just keep you up at night. Thinking. In fact, I can distinctly remember losing hours of sleep on the stories my grandma would tell me.

To summarize an example of one her truly golden stories:

There was once a little boy who collected black marbles. Every day he would play with his marbles and take care of them, gently put them back in his little pouch and place them in their usual spot on his shelf. For every birthday, Christmas or surprise gift since he could remember, he would ask for a little black marble. He loved them. One day, the boy grew into a man and that man graduated college and moved out of his home. As he reached into the box that held his little black marbles, he realized – they weren’t there. And he never found them again.
The End.

I shit you not.

So, it was this sort of story that I grew up listening to, always making sure to fall asleep before the end, so I would still be listening to the part that made me happy. When it wasn’t grandma that I was learning from, it would be left up to two programs and two programs alone. Lamb Chops Play-Along and The Magic School Bus. To this day I can name you almost every single episode of both shows, and can manage to dissect the complicated, yet strangely sexual undertones between Wanda and Arnold.
It was all thanks to Sherri Lewis that I learned what the Song That Never Ends is, and even though I may have not quite understood what I was singing, by god, I SANG IT AT THE TOP OF MY LUNGS.

Oh, but please don’t even ask me about Dr. Seuss as I personally think that his books are tools of evil to make little foreign children look really, really stupid in their elementary class. I mean what kind of eggs are green?! WHAT KIND OF SENSE DOES THAT EVEN MAKE??? Can you BLAME me for being confused by hopping on pop?? Is pop a proper noun, or is it slang?? IS IT DRUGS?!

I don’t get it. I don’t even want to talk about it.

However -- I will admit that I long for someone to drink wine with me and read Dr. Seuss aloud to me. I don’t know why but I think it would be incredible to hear someone read who actually has the correct inflection and understanding. To this day I can’t properly read that bastard’s books. He is my white whale. Maybe a whole new world would be opened up to me if I were to hear it from someone else's mouth.

Anyway, goodbye tangent. Back to what I was saying… oh yes -- all of this lack of usual education in popular movies and childhood knowledge were the major catalysts in the way that I watch movies now and can listen to a fairy tale like it is literally the first time.

For example, when Enchanted came out in theatres, I went with my girlfriend and I was literally giddy with excitement. I can remember watching the short trailers on repeat on my computer – I’m pretty sure I tried to dance along too. Yes, I’m very embarrassing. Anyway, when we got to the theatre I was beside myself with excitement and I was yapping my poor girlfriend’s ear off about musicals and Disney musicals and how different they are, but how they both have their merits and how much I want to blow Alan Menken and Stephen Schwartz. You know – the only appropriate way to show someone how much you appreciate their talent.

The lights dimmed, and I swear to god I gripped my girlfriend’s hand like I wanted to break it off from the pure joy I was feeling. I was on the edge of my seat for 90% of it. In fact, I’m fairly certain that at one point my girlfriend stopped watching the movie and just settled on watching my reactions to the movie.

The movie was wonderful and I cried when they dance at the ball and he sings softly into her ear. Thank you Disney. But then, the wicked witch appears and I can remember the next moments almost frame by frame. The witch offers her the poison apple and after seeing her one true love in the arms of another woman, Giselle takes a bite and falls into a “deep and troubled sleep.” Then she is subsequently rescued by Prince Edward and placed gently on a white duvet. As they race to figure out a way to help her, Robert realizes that the only way to pull her out of her slumber is for her to have her True Love’s Kiss. With my eyes wide open, I hold my breath as Prince Edward leans down to kiss her. Kiss. He waits – nothing happens…

“Oh no!!” I gasp. Out loud. Loud enough for the 3 rows in front of us to hear me.
My girlfriend tries her hardest not to laugh, kisses me on the top of the hand and says “it’s okay babe, just watch.”

And as Robert kisses her, she wakes up and says “I knew it was you.”

Which leaves me with just one question:

Why am I such an immigrant??

NEW VIDEO!!

2009-01-14T23:01:00.000-08:00

new video up on youtube!! Check it out!

not as funny as my first, but 928923729873 more charming. come on.

Obsevations Of A Door-Man(girl)

2009-01-10T22:05:00.000-08:00

1) drunk guys are, more often than not, repulsive and hyper-butch.

2) drunk girls will do anything to get what they want. That includes flirting with me and telling me that I'm "hot enough to go gay for."

3) a Monkey Brain shot is the most delicious shot you could get.

4) lemondrops are king.

5) I get drunk really fast.

I give up. This is the most pathetic blog I've ever posted. I promise I will only do this once a year. I have filled 2009's quota.

My other blogs are much funnier.

Twitter-elee, Twitter-ytwat

2009-01-08T20:33:00.000-08:00

Ashamed as I may be admit this, and despite my oath to never, ever join this trend -- I must come clean. I am completely addicted to Twitter.
And when I say I'm addicted, I don't mean it in the same way that you would say "ohmygod I am so addicted to these fire cheetos. I have them like once a week!"
I mean, seriously, I may have a problem.
I find myself constantly wondering what my Twitter pals are doing or thinking "oh this would make an amazing twitter! Where is my phone!"
I am not kidding.
Whoever came up with this deserves a Nobel Peace Prize. Or a blowjob.
It's a genius service, yet so very simple. 160 characters for you to express whatever it is that you're thinking. For someone, like myself, who constantly wishes they had someone always around to hear their brilliant thoughts, this is a godsend!

I'm currently stalking Tina Fey, britney spears, imogen heap, darth vader and a myriad of other really hilarious non-celebs.

The only problem I seem to consistently be having is (usually) men privately messaging me (I use the Twinkle app on by iPhone which allows that.) to ask if I want to trade dirty pictures or if I have a boyfriend or... Pretty much anything that no person would ever say to another face to face.
Usually I would brush this off, but there is something inherently pathetic and creepy about hitting on people while having to keep it under 160 characters.
I mean, while that's enough to get out a short idea, how is it possible to convince a random stranger to take off their clothes in such a small space?

Have we really reached the point where we don't even care to put effort into being a 40-something pedo who wants to see little girls take it off?? What happened to the pock-marked pre-teens who would spend hours on the computer convincing the people in the chatroom that they had an 8-inch dick?
Now there is no thought. No tact. No art!
Now I recieve what I'm sure are mass messages from people who don't think I'm worth any more than 160 characters.

Well you know what, I'm worth at least 250 characters! And I will not be made to feel any differently.

Step it up, Internet prowlers. I dont need sonnets or proclamations of my beauty. Woo me with sweet words like "got a cam?" and "a/s/l" any day.

Oh, I'm sitting next to an adorable lesbian couple with their son on the plane to LA -- hold on, I gotta Twitter this.

Quick note:

2009-01-08T02:02:00.000-08:00

huzzah! my youtube videos just passed the 100 views mark! (Each!)

woo!

continue with your day, thank you.

Welcome to the future! Where we believe there is no future!

2009-01-04T23:53:00.001-08:00

Doom. The Apocalypse. The End Times. End of the World.
Call it what you may -- it all means one thing. The end of mankind.

I haven't been able to help but notice a recent trend in films, television and books. So many seem to deal with our impending doom. As i sat in the movie theater tonight, I sat through not just one preview for an Apocalypse film (2012), but TWO! The second one escapes my memory as i was too busy Twittering. Then of course to the feature film, The Day The Earth Stood Still.

Now, i know that movie was made quite some years ago, but the fact that Hollywood has chosen this moment to film and release its re-make -- well, that speaks for itself.

We are obsessed.
The earth is slowly (perhaps not so slowly anymore) but surely being destroyed by us, wars are ravaging our neighbors to the East (and South...and ...West...) and we are literally killing our own selves with various addictions like cigarettes, cholesterol, drugs and a myriad of other awesome poisons -- and all we seem to be able to focus on is how it will end.

Call me crazy, but how is anything ever supposed to change if we're convinced that no matter what we do, the earth (and i suppose also importantly, the human race) will end in complete annihilation? If we are given no hope for change, no hope for a future, then what the hell do we have to fight for?

Civilizations before us were also obsessed with the end of the world -- and look at what happened to them.

I don't care if aliens come to earth, if robots rise up and declare war on humans, if nature strikes back at us -- its oppressors, or if a meteor smashes the planet in two.

Maybe we should stop worrying about tomorrow and just begin by taking a look at today. Forget an apocalyptic future and remember what Hanna-Barbera foresaw...

A future where robots are our friends, our cars emit nothing but delightful-sounding-bubbles, and our dogs are still incredibly hard to train to walk on treadmills.

"I want to slap you. You look like my ex."

2009-01-03T22:54:00.000-08:00

Location: Swingers in Santa Monica
Time: appx midnight.

Drunk crowd is in full swing on this Friday night as i weave around stumbling patrons, rushing from table to table in my skirt, boots and tshirt.

I approach a table of 3 men that insist on taking a table meant for 5. I am not in the mood to argue and need money, so i don't call the bouncer to kick them out. They're all wasted, but one in particular is just a mess.

me: Hey guys, how you doin? Can i get you started with some drinks? Water, perhaps?
guy 1: are you trying to tell us we're drunk?
me: yeah...pretty much.
guy 1: oh okay.
guy 2: because we are.
me: gotcha. drinks?

i run off to get some waters and a couple of coffees for them, then come back.

me: here you are, gentlemen. drink up!
guy 2: you know you're really beautiful.
me: ha, ah, thank you. thanks.
guy 1: yeah our friend over is too pussy to tell you. He thinks you look like his ex girlfriend.
guy 3: She's a fucking bitch.
me: uhm...thank....you?
guy 2: no no, shes totally hot. she just fucked him over.
guy 3: fucking bitch.

at this point i take their order and retreat to the safety of...anywhere else in the restaurant. Eventually i go back to check on their food.

guy 3: hey im sorry i'm being an asshole. You really are beautiful. You just look so much like her, its insane. I want to slap you, and date you.
me: well.... i can understand. but...you know im not your ex. i'm far more awesome.
guy 2: i dont know -- she was pretty awesome.
me: no no, you don't understand. i'm amazing.
guy 1: no, i dont think you understand. His ex girlfriend is Shannyn Sossamon.
me: oh. ha. um, well. shit.

i walk away again, then after telling my co-workers, i check back on the table.

guy 3: hey listen, could i ask you something?
me: ....yes......
guy 3: could you just say my name? just once?
me: oh my. no... no absolutely not.

You may be unemployed, but hey! That girl at Taco Bell is really hot!

2008-12-12T18:32:00.000-08:00

So a receding economy may find you out of a job, it may even find you broke and moving back into your old bedroom with posters of Menudo and Power Ranger stickers on the walls -- but there is a bright side to the entire concept of living in a nation that's in a tailspin towards an economic depression.

The divides between economic classes have been blurred almost beyond recognition! Hark and hear me, oh bachelors of the land!

The rich are now poor, the poor are still poor, and those in-between -- well, they sure as hell aren't getting rich any time soon. This is the level playing ground that every bachelor(ette) has been waiting for. An increasing number of people are abandoning restaurants and opting for their local grocery stores and farmers markets. No more going out to bars where drinks run $9 a pop -- now it's all about the house parties and for the classier sort -- wine dinners. Which is practically the same thing, except more things are liable to get stained red.

What does all this mean to you? It's simple. Now when you drive up to Taco Bell, the face awaiting you at that second window won't be that of a pock-marked teenager, but that of the cute girl that you would secretly stare at in class. With so few jobs available, beggars truly cannot afford to be choosers. Haven't you noticed that these days, the girl who gives you your food and takes your money is no longer someone you wouldn't even look twice at? Now, the drive-thru girl can flash you a single smile and somehow you'll end up ordering the entire menu. That same drive-thru girl will actually respond to you when you try to talk to her. Even the cashier at Albertson's is decidedly more beautiful than you ever remembered. Not only that, but if she sees all of the disgusting things you put into your refrigerator and your pantry and still manages to be interested in you -- then it's obviously true love!

My friends, we find ourselves in the same league as the people who were once in a different stratosphere. See someone you like at the gas station...? Complain about prices, or comment on how prices are going down. Offer to check a woman's tire-pressure so she gets "the most mileage for her gallon.", offer to take her on a nice romantic date to a black-and-white dollar theatre followed by a walk on the beach, or simply strike up a conversation about that new book you borrowed from the library (because who can afford to buy anymore??).
Your wallets may be flat, and you may be broke, but for your love-lives this is a time of rebirth and opportunity. Her desperation is your favorable circumstance.

Losing What You Desire: (aka) What do you miss about sex?

2008-05-08T21:15:00.000-07:00

This is how i feel in this moment. A bear that's lost its honey. Ha.

Sex:
"Sexual intercourse, in its biological sense, is the act in which the male reproductive organ (in humans and other higher animals) enters the female reproductive tract, called copulation or coitus in other reference.^[1] The two entities may be of opposite sexes, or they may be hermaphroditic, as is the case with snails."

Obviously this definition is very narrow and a bit sexist, but we all get the point. We all know what sex is, and what it entails. Two people gettin it on, making eachother feel good and perhaps orgasm in the process.

However, sometimes its more -- sometimes the simple ACT of it feels better than the actual climax. Sex is not always an ends to a mean. It can be used to make you feel better, to cure loneliness, to express joy, to express love, there is break-up sex, make-up sex, angry sex, the act of making love, there is the act of fucking and there is of course -- sex for the sake of sex.

Personally, the most amazing moments i've had with someone was when i felt completely comfortable and able to lose myself in them. That sort of feeling only comes when i'm in love with someone. Of course, gratuitous-sex has its redeeming points too... its a great stress reliever and ego-booster.

What i want to ask you all though is; what is your favorite thing about sex? Or, if it's but a distant memory -- what do you miss most about sex?

I have the libido of a 13 year-old boy and i would be in heaven if i could have it at least twice a day, but honestly what i miss most is the actual intimacy.

I miss feeling close to someone. The actual orgasm isnt too important too me, though im not going to lie and say that it isnt amazing when it happens.
I miss nails on my back, feeling warm skin against my own. I miss feeling desired in every sense. I miss feeling seductive and in control. I miss feeling seduced and out of control. I miss the feeling of breath on my skin and rumbling in my ears. I miss the taste of skin, the taste of sex, the way pupils dialate seconds before they cum, i miss kissing and hair pulling, biting. I miss having concealed marks on my body of intimate moments for days after they initially happen. i miss getting lost in someone and them losing themselves in me.
i miss feeling them shake and finally relax in my arms, then listening to their breath and heartbeat slow to a low hum.
I miss feeling someone touch my skin and give me goosebumps.
I miss drifting off to a peaceful sleep together.

So, share with me. Let us all live vicariously through each other.

Wisdom?

2008-04-24T21:14:00.000-07:00

"Im tired of being in love with an idea, and not being able to keep up with how fast the idea is changing."

hm.

Aside from that, im a neglectful bitch in regards to this blog but hey, im trying.
i will soon be relocating back to california and i'll be moving to Inglewood because im keepin it realzzzz.

actually its because im poor. very poor.
Being a writer is a pretty thankless job.

i will return soon with wit and great stories about insane people that cross my path.

In Preparation for the Oscars

2008-02-24T13:54:00.001-08:00

Here is my favorite woman in Hollywood, Betty White.

The BIG Gesture

2008-02-22T21:43:00.000-08:00

first, to everyone thats been leaving me comments, thank you and i promise ill get back to you soon. Ive just been having an extremely rough few weeks and tonight is shaping up to be the worst yet.

But thats not what im here to talk about.

I want to talk about ultimatums and the big gesture...

im sure you all know what i mean by ultimatums, but when i say "the big gesture" i mean that something that you do for the person you love or care about. The BIG something. The single act in your life/relationship where you put everything on the line just to be with that other person.

Whether its to quit your job in order to be with them, to take care of them when they're sick, to move to another city for them or to give up something that means a lot to you only because they mean that much more to you.

so, i sit here and ask... what are some of the big gestures you've done for someone else?

and

what do you think of ultimatums -- yay or nay? A way to open up someone else's eyes, or a great way to destroy any chance of a relationship's survival?

tell me your tales and opinions...

Lesbian Advice for the Straight Guy: Episode 1

2008-02-20T16:39:00.000-08:00

First off i'd like to say thanks to everyone who submitted their questions for this first episode. I hope i dont fail you miserably, but if i do, then i'll just blame it on you guys for sending me questions i sucked at answering.

Okay, so to set this off right, i guess i'll introduce myself a little bit. I'm 22 years old, currently living in Seattle, but working on moving back to Los Angeles in May. I've been dating girls since i was 16 and, up until recently, my motto seemed to be "quantity over quality."

Needless to say, ive got a pretty decently sized network of ex-girlfriends and ex-whatever-you-wanna-call-em's . Through all of my experiences i like to think i've gained not only insight into the female psyche but also learned how to charm my way into any girl's heart (or pants, whatever the situation called for) -- of course, since then ive renounced my "heart-breaker" ways (as i had my heart broken enough times to realize, its not a fun feeling) but i figure that i should at least share some of the secrets to success.

A disclaimer though, there is NO secret recipe to love. Lust, yes, but love is much trickier. Love is pure and therefore cannot be imitated by a series of smiles and charming remarks.

Also, this is not a guide on how to be an asshole and fuck every girl you see (karma is a bitch, trust me. And hell hath no fury like a woman scorned) -- i wouldnt dream of putting other women through that, but this is sort of a "spark notes" guide to at least breaking the ice and making guys realize that dating is not nearly as terrifying as it may seem.

Alright, on to the fun!

Mentalthreesixty asks:

Q: "I'm an almost 27, single, male, straight guy who is exponentially getting more and more tired of typical night life, and is very shy about breaking the ice, and likes eccentric women. What you got for me?"

Okay, so you're getting tired of the typical night life -- that's good. The typical night life is overrated and despite popular opinion, it is one of the worst places you can go to meet anyone of substance. Think about it; if you were to meet that "someone" you've been waiting for, do you really want your first interactions to be inebriated ones that you'll barely recall the next day? I actually also find that women at bars/clubs are far more unreceptive to advances than they would be in a regular everyday setting. It seems that they want every guy to "prove themselves" to them, and show why they're better than any of the other guys in the bar. This is a turn-off. I dont give a damn what a girl looks like -- if she's stuck up, she is not worth my time, nor is she worth yours.

The best advice i've got for you is get involved in something you like, whether its a midnight bicycle ride around the city (most cities have em, look it up), or to a local farmer's market.. etc. Something that creates a social atmosphere but not a competitive one. And also think about what kind of women you like -- if you like artists or musicians, you probably wont have much luck meeting them at a sports event. Likewise, if you like yoga-oriented-nouveau-hippie girls, you probably wont meet them at a local BBQ.

So just go ahead and explore -- do all of the things that you've wanted to do but never had the time for due to your "night life" schedule. And once you see a girl you like, smile and be genuine with her.

This is very important, are you paying attention?? -- BE GENUINE.

Women can smell when you're lying. If you like her hair or clothes, tell her. If she does something funny, laugh and try to keep the joke going. Women respond to someone who can make them laugh more than someone who throws compliment after compliment at them.

Nico asks:

Q: When "picking up" or "breaking the ice", we all know nothing really beats "hello," instead of the run-of-the-mill-and-yet-lame-nonetheless pick-up lines (eg., "Did you just fall from heaven? Because I'm a necrophiliac."). My question is - once you get a girl's attention by greeting her in a very non-threatening way, how do you keep her attention and start a conversation? Sometimes, girls will just say "hello" back and turn the other direction, effectively killing the conversation -- if she doesn't... well, what do you say now? Something clever? Something funny? Something irrelevant?

Good question, Nico. I've found that the best way to keep a girl's attention is to make her smile. A man that can make a girl laugh is someone that is guaranteed at least the opportunity of getting her name. Now, when i say "make her laugh" i don't mean tell a knock-knock joke, i mean say something relevant ("wow. this music is... something..." or "i think the bartender is trying to rack up some good tips by making everyone blackout.") something along the lines of your own sense of humor. Something important to remember is, be yourself. I know its super cheesy and something your own parents probably told you before your 8th grade dance, but its true. If someone is going to like you, it should be for you. Now, again, if you only want to sleep with the girl, then thats another thing (but thats not the question you asked, so i digress...)

Smile at her, keep your body language open, and if you want you can offer your hand as you introduce yourself. Be honest. If this is your first time at the location, tell her. "This is my first time here, i actually didn't really know what to expect." and she'll invariably say "oh really?" then you can go on to say where you usually go or what you usually do... there you go, you've now progressed into the 2nd stage of conversation without even noticing. Now you guys can figure out if you have anything in common or anything. Remember Nico, chicks LOVE musicians. Work that angle. Keep it honest, keep it light and save the "you are so beautiful" stuff for the 2nd date.

Feels Like A Dude asks:

Q: "what do you do when the "fake it, its impressive" tact just don't work when you hit on girl photographer who reads too many philosophy books and you just couldn't care less?
What do you do when gf want to talk about "emotions" and you suddenly feels like a married dude being tortured by wife of a life time?
what do you do with beautiful girls who don't trust you when you say they're hot, then don't trust you just the same when you say you don't care that they're hot?"

Wow. Okay. I'll take yours step by step.

1) "fake it, its impressive" is a douche-bag approach. It takes a particular breed of insecure to feel like they have to lie all through their first interaction. Even if its just to pick up a girl for a one night stand (and if that's the case, you MUST make it clear that a one night stand is all you're interested in). Like i've said above, girls can smell when you're lying.

2) If you dont care what she has to say, don't waste her time, or yours. Go hit on someone who will at least have something good to say post-coitus.

3) If your girlfriend wants to talk about emotions (why did you put those in quotations? do you understand the correct usage of quotations?) then its obviously because there's something on her mind. Again, if you dont care what she has to say the you have no business being with her. Move on and let her find someone who's not an asshole and go find yourself a mute girl.

4) Most women i've met have no idea how to take a compliment, so really there is nothing you can do. If you tell them that they're beautiful (and actually mean it) and they say something along the lines of "no.... i hate my _____", tell them that they should never talk down on themselves. Then point out your favorite feature about them, whether its the shade of their eyes, their smile, the way their hair falls etc...

a specific compliment always sounds better than a general one.

5) if a girl doesnt believe you when you tell her that you dont care what she looks like its because you're full of shit. Nobody dates anyone without at least thinking that they're hot. Its the foundation of an attraction.

Dont lie and don't be an idiot, then you'll be fine.

Jack asks:

Q: "I had a first date, not really interested in anything more. Do I need to call her and explicitly state this or is it ok for just to not say anything?"

In this situation its just best to wait and see if she calls or expresses an interest in a second date. If this is the case, then its best to tell her that its important for you to be honest (because this makes her understand that you dont want to hurt her, not that you're being an asshole or that she's hideous or something) and that even though you had a really fun time on your date, you felt that the two of you had more of a "friends" vibe together than a romantic vibe.

Even if you dont want to be friends with her, dont worry because odds are that regardless of anything you say, her ego will be bruised and she wont want to be just friends with you anyway.

But this is a nice way to let her down.

James asks:

Q: "I'd like to know your thoughts on how you know when someone is interested in you, as opposed to just being friendly.

On the flip side how do you let someone know your interested in them without coming across as full of yourself or a creep."

I like this question because its something i actually used to struggle with and sometimes still get confused by, but a safe bet is to follow these general guidelines..

if they find reasons to touch you or brush up against you at moments that physical touch isnt necessary.
If they playfully hit you on the arm.
If eye contact lingers longer than necessary.
If you both find each other smiling at each other for no reason.
If they tease you playfully or create playful banter between the two of you.
If they fidget with something when you're around.

If some or all of those things apply to your situation then the person is probably interested in you and not just being friendly. If you're still unsure and you like this certain person, then just ask them out for some coffee by the beach or by a lake and spend a bit of time with each other. It wont really seem like a date if they're not interested (it'd be more like just two people hanging out) but if they ARE interested, then it would be a nice light first date to just hang out and get to know each other without expectations.

As far as showing someone that you're interested without being a sleaze-ball -- its simple.

Look her in the eyes, pay attention to the things she says and respond accordingly. Dont imagine what her body looks like or what her lips would feel like. Dont have a conversation in your head -- be in the present. Smile and keep conversation very innocent. Dont tell her that you think she is beautiful because odds are, she is, and she's heard it before. Dont go out of your way to be original -- being yourself should be enough. If you're in a loud area and opportunity arises, lean in to her ear to talk to her, but (obviously) dont touch her ear with your lips (because you're a stranger, and thats creepy) -- and as you're doing this, put your hand a little above the small of her back (the reason i say above the small of her back is because it shows that you're interested but very respectful because the small of a woman's back is a very private zone.) to show ensure that you have eachother's full attention. Again, always remind yourself that you have NOTHING to prove to anyone. (this will keep you from sounding conceited or coming off sleazy.)

Now there's more/different advice when you're beyond the "first encounter" and in the slightly more difficult position of "friend limbo", which is where you're walking the fine line between being a dating possibility and being stuck in friend-land.

IF thats the case, let me know and ill dedicate a whole blog to this question. (yes, its THAT much of an issue.)

moving onnnnnn....

D asks:

Q: "what might be a good way to break ice with someone you don't know...i've seen friends run into what i think is just a natural defensive wall, that in some cases falls away when the guy doesn't act like an ass...but sometimes thos walls persist just due to awkwardness or nerves. any tips?

how much 'nice guy' is too much 'nice guy'?

since you're a woman, it's hard not to ask you to share sex-tip insights...i mean...you know how it feels, which is an unfair advantage:)"

Okay, since ive already answered the first part of the question, just scroll up and you'll find exactly what you're looking for.

How much nice-guy is too much: A good way to be nice, but not make her think that you're her new BFF is to obviously be nice, make her smile, make her laugh, make conversation -- but for example when you open doors for her, gently put your hand on her back and lead her in. When conversation lingers make sure to maintain eye contact and smile (which will undoubtedly make her look away blushing, to which you can playfully ask why she's blushing). Offer to pay for things and if she offers to pay tell her that her money is no good when she's in your company. Offer her your coat if she gets cold and if she says that she doesn't want you to be cold too then just say that she can even things out by holding your arm.
See, there is a way to be a gentleman and be nice but also add a certain level of flirtatiousness to it. Lightheartedness is KEY.

And as far as the sex tips... my god. That is a broad question.

Sex is actually one of the simplest but most fulfilling acts that we are able to take part in. There is no magic-move that will make every girl go crazy. Every woman is different, and every woman responds differently to different touches.

This is VERY important to remember when going into it.

Dont skip the foreplay. Actually, this (in my opinion) is the best part. Its where you get to explore her body and see what makes her tick. This should be a great experience. Let your hands run over every inch of her body, kiss her neck and see if that makes her shudder, bite her lips, pull her tightly into you, listen to her breathing quicken and her pulse double in tempo.

The foreplay can be as gentle or as passionate as you (and she) want it to be. Pay attention to her and play off her reactions.

The actual act of fucking is great, but its the path to it that will have her coming (and coming) back for more.

Always pay attention to her and dont get frustrated if she takes a long time to orgasm. I can almost guarantee you that it would have NOTHING to do with you. Some women just take longer than others. Keep at it and listen to her, watch her. You will know exactly what to do.

Chris asks

how can I stop this:

girl: What are you thinking about?

me: [trying to think of something clever to say, and then failing] "uh, nothing."

girl: [convinced my brain was doing something] "No, really, what was it? You can tell me."

me: "Uh, really, I wasn't thinking about anything. My brain was actually, for about 3 minutes, devoid of any real thoughts."

girl: [now upset because she thinks I'm hiding my thoughts from her] "Why don't you express yourself more with me???

me: [accepting defeat, and thus making something up] "Well, there was this one thing..."

This seriously made me laugh out loud because ive been on both ends so many times (sue me, im still a woman at the end of the day).

The answer is simple here. Its pretty obvious that your girlfriend either feels that you dont express your feelings enough, or there is something that she wants you to say.

Here is what you do:

Tell her that when you say that you're not thinking anything, that its not that you're hiding your feelings or anything. Its just that when you're completely content, there is no reason for your brain to be working. You are happy just being with her and being in the moment. You dont need thoughts to process that emotion.

and if shes still unsatisfied with that,

ask her if there is anything specific on her mind or anything that she wants to talk about. Maybe she has something she wants to say to you but she cant find the right words or opportunity.

good luck :)

Mi Neurosis asks:

Q: "What I’d like to know is why it’s okay for a girl (i.e. my girlfriend) to laugh and carry on with her male colleagues and acquaintances but a man (i.e. ME) can’t do the same with his female counterparts? Ah?

I can’t seem to negotiate the difference between the two—but my girlfriend sure can.

Also, I really hope this problem isn’t unique to my relationship."

Rest easy, my friend. You are not alone.

This is actually a serious conversation that you need to have with your girlfriend. Because the roots of this problem stem from trust-issues. Is she threatened by the females in your life? Are you threatened by the males in her life? Obviously since you seem to be okay with her carrying on with her male colleagues, then she needs to return that same trust in your direction and not only give you the benefit of the doubt but also be secure enough in what you two have to know that at the end of the night you'll be coming home to her (in the proverbial sense.)

Double-standards arent fair, and im a firm believer in the fact that couples should be equals and on level playing fields.

Ask her if she trusts you and then go from there.

Ashley asks:

Q: "have you lived in the NW your whole life or just for school?"

Nope! Actually ive only lived in the Pacific Northwest for two years now. Prior to that i lived in California for almost 8 years -- before that i lived in canada for 7, and i was born in Colombia and lived there for 6 years. :)

I miss California and couldnt be more excited to move back!

I'm Not Dead

2008-02-19T13:12:00.001-08:00

No, no, but i may as well be.

I'm currently in the process of compiling all of the questions for my "lesbo advice for the straight guy" column, but am also swamped with reading/homework for my Philosophy class.

Oh joyous textbooks, how i love thee.

BUT fear not, my radtastic readers (alliteration, holla) for i will return very soon with more rants than you'll know what to do with.

Until then, if ANYONE has any questions for me, (after all...im a pretty hilarious advice-giver) feel free to send em my way and they'll be included in the first edition.

Much love.

also, has anyone seen the Sun?? If you happen to see it, could you please tell it to stop by Seattle? The kids are asking where it is. And it owes me child support.

God Bless The American Public School System

2008-02-15T18:44:00.000-08:00

Direct product of the "no child left behind" policy. Thank you Mr Bush.

If you wanna bump, she'll bump.

Tune in tomorrow for my first installment of (what i hope will be) the series "Lesbian's Advice For Straight Guys"

Also, if anyone out there has questions about women, what they think/want/etc etc, feel free to send it my way (via comment) and i will be more than happy to give you the best response i can using my phenomenally accurate insight. (And even THAT isnt enough sometimes.)

alright, rawk.

And Now For Something Not Sappy -- My Favorite Things (right now...)

2008-02-13T16:29:00.000-08:00

Is your brain on overload with all of the presidential race hullaballoo?? Have no idea who to vote for, and are you willing to let a machine make a crucial decision for you? Then look no further...

A Blind Candidate Taste Test of sorts. Like all of those ever-popular dating websites, this little quiz will match you with the candidate that is just right for you. (Then you can continue on the road to victory together. Huzzah.)

Mine were Hill-Dawg, and Mike Gravel (strangely enough).

----------------

In honor of the upcoming Oscars and Hollywood's latest obsession with all things black-and-white or technicolor:

I am proud to present this video i found on College Humor -- the cast of Spongebob Squarepants beautifully dubbing over film classics.

------------------

Ellen Page - not only is she an incredible actress (see: Juno, Hard Candy and Mouth to Mouth), witty, hilarious, charming, gracious, sweet and beautiful; she's managed to keep a totally level head on her shoulders and remain the girl that you would love to be best friends with. (Then tearfully confess your undying love to during a drunken night at some house party.)

The following is a collection of funny interviews that make me laugh even when im having the shittiest of days.

Ellen on Letterman. I love her storytelling skills and the fact that its clear that she has no idea how to walk around in heels. (like me, yay!)

Ellen on BestWeekEver.tv -- radtastic

i laughed out loud. I want to be her BFF.

Awkwarddddd <33

okay. im not obsessed, i swear.

no, i lied.

ha kidding, i am.

just jokes.

okay.

----------------

Once, the movie.

A beautifully done film about two musicians that meet in Ireland and develop a friendship that teaches them that sometimes all you really need is a friend, despite what you may think you want.

This film makes me cry like a baby, not only because of the storyline but because of the complete honesty with which its done. The soundtrack is also made up of amazing, moving songs, some of which i feel are the most beautiful and raw that ive ever heard.

Heres a couple of the scenes taken out of context. i URGE you to watch it.

"Falling Slowly"

"When Your Mind's Made Up"

---------

that concludes my first list of "My Favorite Things". Tune in next time, for the exciting continuation of things that you should like too!

Until then kids, stay in school!

Conversations In My Head -- In A Perfect World

2008-02-13T01:13:00.001-08:00

She'd take me back.
We'd fall asleep like we used to.
I'd be admired and held to the highest esteem.
Days would be filled with things that actually mattered.
I would have the courage to talk to her instead of writing this stupid list.
We wouldn't have given up.
It wouldn't feel weird and awkward to tell her I care.
I wouldn't be scared.
She'd believe the things I say.
She wouldn't be scared.
We'd still share our hopes and talk about ten years from now.
We'd still write letters.
She'd kiss the small of my neck, letting the cold metal of my necklace press against her lips as i bring her hands close to my chest and fall asleep in her arms.
We would fall in synch again.
She'd fall for me again.
I'd feel her skin press against mine again.
She's lose herself in me again.
We would never push each other away.
We wouldn't play unintentional games to protect our hearts from each other.
We would have a life together again.
She'd know how much uncertainty hurts, but how much faith i'm putting in her.
I wouldn't be such a fuck up.
I wouldn't let my emotions have such a hold on me.
I'd be better for her.

We'd be okay.
Things would be like they used to be.

update: i guess its not a perfect world.

(I normally don't lose my shit on a public forum such as this, but its late at night and i'm alone with only the laptop screen to light my room. I can't help but feel like i can finally let go and feel everything i've been ignoring. Enjoy this rarity, folks.)

I love you more! no i love YOU more!

2008-02-12T09:18:00.000-08:00

Ever since i can remember, my mom has been the one to always give me relationship advice and random love anecdotes -- granted, its always been terrible and jaded advice in my opinion, but then again who am i to judge? She's the one who's got a wonderful marriage (her ONLY one too) and a great life, then there's me who has a plethora of failed relationships under my belt and can never seem to keep someone interested. (I overcompensate this shortcoming with a Hummer, a $300,000/year salary and my own place in Hollywood Hills. In my dreams.)

One of the things that my mom has told me since i was about 10 years old is this:

"In a relationship, there will always be one person who loves the other a little bit more. One person who tries a little harder than the other and gives a little more than the other."

Then she would go on to openly admit that despite the fact that she adores my dad, she knows that he loves her a little bit more than she loves him.

I honestly really don't know how i feel about this. Part of me hates the idea of it because it means that no couple is ever equal and one person will always be given less love than the other. Another part of me knows that this is highly logical and is probably true.

I've always hated when fucking logic meddles in matters of the heart. Logic does not belong in a place where creatures that are physiologically designed to be poly-amorous (humans) make a conscious and willing choice to be monogamous (insane) for the rest of their life. I don't see the heart puttering about in the realm of logic like a jewish mother stating its opinion all over the place:

"1+1=2?? Really? I always felt the answer should be 3, or maybe even 4, but certainly not two. i mean its such a cold and unfeeling number... Maybe we should ask our friends what they think. Oh! ohhhh my god, you know who would be perfect with 1 and 1?? ....8!! That figure, oh my, they would just die!"

So, i want to know, what do you guys think? In relationships, does one person love/give/care more than the other?

bitter betty

2008-02-11T20:27:00.000-08:00

im really sad i'll be alone again on valentine's day.

bleh.

Lone Wolf

2008-02-10T22:48:00.000-08:00

Anyone that knows me can confidently say that i am a social butterfly, a master of guises -- i can feel comfortable in a house party, a five-star establishment, a exclusive hollywood club, a dive bar or protest rallies. I love to experience everything and every social setting. One of my favorite things is going out with a few good friends and dancing the night away, or grabbing my 4 best friends (all guys) and driving around all night, only allowing ourselves to stop at places that we have never been to before. The party, drug and booze scene doesnt really appeal to me anymore -- ive ran that circuit and i've learned that it has absolutely nothing to offer me.

However, something that many people don't know about me is that for every day that i'm social, i like to have at least half a day to be completely alone (or with just one other person on this planet) and become an observer of this world and not an active participator. I'm the person who rides the bus all day, sketching on my notebook, listening to my ipod and watching people all around.

When i lived in California i used to disappear off the radar for one or two days at a time to let my batteries recharge. I would drive up and down PCH, staring at the ocean with my windows down and my music playing at the perfect level, then eventually pull up to my own little hidden sanctuary in Laguna Beach and sit on a perfectly shaped rock and write or draw or play the guitar to myself. Sometimes i would go to Downtown Disney and walk into the California Grand Hotel to a hidden room that was always empty but had the most gorgeous piano i've ever had the privilege of touching and just play for an hour that would seem like minutes. Then i would walk into the magic kingdom (god bless annual passes) and sit on the monorail and just watch people all day. There is literally no better place on earth to people-watch than at Disney Land.

In fact, one of the most vivid memories i have of my lone-wolf adventures is when i was seeing a girl named Tera. Though we were casually dating, we were friends first and foremost which was actually one of my favorite things about our "relationship"(and i use that term very very loosely), because there was never any pressure or even desire to make things serious. We just had a mutual attraction and were exploring our romantic compatibility. Though ultimately we found out that we were not compatible at all, we did learn that we care very deeply for each other and do love each other in the simplest of ways -- the way you love a true friend. (awww..hallmark.)

Anyway, now that im back from that tangent.... When we would meet up for dinner it would usually be around 8pm, since she got off work at 7:30pm -- so around 4 or 5pm i would drive up to Pasadena in my little red car, park around the beautiful "olde-towne" area and take a seat on a bench that for some reason was always empty when i needed it. I would set my black guitar case on the ground in front of me, and play. My mind would wander as my fingers strummed over each string -- each with tender and meticulous care. It never mattered what i played because it was never even a conscious decision. Sometimes i would play the same songs that i'd been singing for years, and sometimes i would improvise a tune to fit the city's mood that night. As people passed by, i would watch and make up stories in my head of where they were going -- i would look at their expression and wonder what they were thinking about as their feet travelled across the pavement. I would love to watch couples together and smile when it was obvious that in that moment they were the only people on earth to eachother -- and i would wonder what had gone on moments before when couples would walk by in the midst of an obvious fight.

Every now and then someone would sit next to me and watch for a bit, then walk away smiling to themselves. That was probably the best feeling in the world -- two random strangers connecting for moments and then parting ways, feeling not as alone anymore.

So until it was time to meet Tera, i would play and with the few dollars in change that people would donate as they passed by i would buy a cheap dinner that night.

Its strange, for me it seems like when i'm surrounded by acquaintances i feel completely alone and insecure, but when i'm on my own in a crowded room and able to sit and watch i feel totally at peace and connected. I feel confident and satisfied.

I miss doing things like that. It seems like my life is so full of things that constantly need to e done, or circumstances come up, or i dunno... I'm really gonna do my best to start riding my bike around the city and spending time with myself again. I've neglected myself for far too long -- my batteries need to be recharged.

thanks for reading this very scattered and useless post :)

Bout to POP at NY Fashion Week

2008-02-08T00:44:00.000-08:00

damn J.LO

you are really fucking pregnant. Someone get this woman some Ben & Jerry's and motorized scooter! STAT!

Side Note:

notice any resemblance?

A Valentine In The Past

2008-02-07T18:09:00.000-08:00

So, despite the fact that I'm practically bedridden during these weeks of recovery from my surgery, I've still managed to remain a somewhat productive member of society.

Though -- I seem to be slowly be losing my sanity during this incarceration.

Not to mention being guilty of acting like a complete twat toward the person i love the most.

Regardless, I've managed to not only get scheduled for two modeling shoots on Sunday, but also score an interview at The Apple Store that same day. Hopefully this financial drought of mine will soon come to an end. I'd like a badge and a cookie for my accomplishments, please.

Valentine's day is fast approaching, and though i -- like Bruce Willis and his Die Hard's -- am a die-hard romantic at heart, i can honestly say that i despise this holiday more than i hate it when my brother farts on me in my sleep. There is just something about a holiday that not only promotes, but enforces romance that just irks every nerve inside of me. Why should you only express your love for others once a year? If you care, then its something that you show all year-round.

Besides that very self-righteous rant, there's also the fact that ive never, EVER had a good Valentine's day. Last year was decent because i got a really sweet surprise that involved chocolates and a present, but since it was a long-distance relationship, i still managed to spend it alone. Aside from last year though, ive either spent the day alone -- playing my guitar on the street while watching lovers exchange glances only understood by lovers -- or with exes, or breaking with someone or, the best one, being broken up with.

I know it sounds fantastically contradictory that i even care what i do on February 14th considering my general dislike for it, but the fact of the matter is that when there is so much hype surrounding the day, its hard to not let it get to you. Advertising does what its supposed to, and that's to make you feel inadequate if you don't have "a special somebody" to share chocolates, rainbows, hearts and x's & o's with.

So far it looks like this year the date will be spent eating ice cream and watching made-for-tv movies on Lifetime or Oxygen about some menopausal woman finding love in the most unexpected places and finding herself along the way. Or, uh, something like that.

There is one Valentine i knew that sticks out in my mind -- not because i've only known two -- but because she was... well...

We met for a few minutes during one of my visits to Seattle, because at that point i was still underage and my friends wanted to go drinking in Portland, so they called up some girl i "looked just like" and told her to let me borrow her ID. Surprisingly, Kayla agreed and came to drop it off. However upon that brief encounter we had met in a dark alley on a particularly cold and rainy night -- because obviously that's just something you do in order to fulfill all of the cliches when you're doing something illegal. Anyhow, we didn't really talk except for a very brief, "nice to meet you" and "thanks."

The next time we met, it wasn't quite as dreary so we actually had the chance to see what the other looked like and chat a bit. This time, us and a group of our mutual friends ended up at a wine party at a coffee shop (oh, Seattle) then, already somewhat tipsy, stumbled over to a local hookah bar. We all sat down in a large corner booth and ordered up a round of beers and relaxed, our buzz somewhere between giggly and almost uninhibited. Kayla plopped down next to me and turned to face me, her brown eyes shining with a mischief i couldn't quite understand. Almost uncomfortable under her direct gaze, i suddenly found myself extremely interested in the beer's label, running my fingers over the sweaty bottle. I wondered if those were just my palms.

"So what's the deal, are you here for good now, or what?" she inquired, rather abruptly, causing me to gulp my beer then turn to her and shrug, giving some sort of noncommittal answer, careful to avoid her eyes. I mentioned that i was planning to stay in the city for a year, then if i liked it i would stay -- otherwise i would head back to Los Angeles. Smiling, she passed me the hookah and was careful to make sure our hands grazed as our eyes locked and I smiled back, a little more comfortable now with three drinks flowing through my 5'5" frame.

Now, it was my turn to ask a question, "so what's up with the whole...i'm so fucking smooth... thing? Are you really as cocky as you make yourself seem?" Granted, it wasn't the most tactful way to ask, but at that point i didn't really care. But with a parry and a thrust, she retorted with "I should be asking you the same thing."

Genuinely surprised, i was going to say that i was perhaps one of the least conceited people she would ever encounter, but with a second thought i realized that this wasn't the kind of moment that called for any sort of sincerity.

"I'm not cocky, i'm actually just amazing." I stated, making her laugh and provoking a punch on the arm that gently came to rest on my thigh. Still holding her beer with her other hand, she hit the top of my beer bottle making it overflow onto my lap. I looked up, expecting to see some sign of remorse but only found a shit-eating smile spread across her face.

So, logically, i took a swig of beer into my mouth and spit it onto her lap which made her jump up in surprise and call me an asshole and threaten to kick my ass. All i did was give her the same shit-eating smile and tell her to just sit down, the beer would dry.

After a couple of more beers, we all left the hookah bar (i should say stumbled out of) and walked toward the D.D's car. Strangely enough, i got distracted along the way and struck up a conversation with what i thought looked like a friendly bum then proceeded to ask if he knew where we could score some drugs. I don't remember much at this point, but i do remember Kayla yanking me by the arm toward the car and asking me if i wanted to get myself killed or something. I was a little embarrassed, to say the least.

Determined to redeem myself and not look like some sort of junkie, i raced her to the car and opened the door for her, placing my hand on the back of her head to gently guide her in. Unfortunately i was so drunk at this point that now lacked any depth perception so i proceeded to slam her head into the door frame so hard that a small gash now glowed a deep amber on her forehead. I could feel my face turn a similar hue as i apologized over and over again, wiping up her blood with the sleeve of my black hoodie, i felt absolutely terrible. Kayla didn't seem to be too fazed by the cut though, which i thought was strange because i think that if a stranger bashed my head into a car door, i'd be a little...concerned. I joked that now she looked kind of like Harry Potter -- we both laughed and smiled, but knew that the smile had nothing to do with the joke.

I was finally comfortable to look her in the eyes.

The months that followed that initial encounter were filled with some laughs, lots of fights, drunk calls (once calling to tell me she'd made out with one of my friends but it was "no big deal"), drunken mistakes, awkward situations that included her girlfriend and i in one room together (both knowing about the other), angry texts and eventually a nasty breakup. Definitely one of the least healthy relationships i've had, but through our relationship i learned to gain an appreciation for who she was as a person but realize that as a girlfriend she just wasnt up to par.

However, despite everything, i'll always remember the night at the hookah bar -- though i remained unsure throughout the relationship as i was on that night, it was the first time i saw that beyond her intimidating exterior, there was something almost endearing.

Still though, that is one Valentine i'll never want again.

Trashbag Transformer

2008-02-05T23:13:00.000-08:00

My entries will be a little staggered for the next month or so because i currently have full use of all five digits on my right hand and only my left-hand thumb.

"Why??" You ask?

Well, about a month ago i cut my hand with a sword while trying to remove it from its sheath. Is it the 1600's again or something?? Am i living in feudal Japan?

Long story made very short; instead of rushing to the hospital like i should have, i relied on my parents Colombian witchcraft which included egg-membrane and rubbing alcohol.

Two days later i went to the doctor and unfortunately the wound had healed so well on top (thanks to the egg membrane) that the doctor saw it as "nothing more than a deep paper cut."

A month later, i find out from a surgeon that i in fact have a lacerated tendon in my pinky which was the reason that i hadn't regained motion control of my pinky -- which meant i needed to go under the knife the very next day.

Awesome.

One week, 35 pills of Vicodin, many stitches, and lots of pain later i sit here finally able to sort of type.

I will be updating this as my recuperation continues.

Day 1:

I fucking hate IV needles

Day 5:

After 4 days of being disgusting, i've decided to shower. This is my bath-time accoutrement.

I'm a trashbag transformer.

Day 6:

First day at physical therapy (HI MOM!). Moving my finger made me want to vomit.

And weep

at the very least i have an aerodynamic splint now.

and yes, i threw up later that night while trying to do hand exercises.

And the adventure continues...

until then, there will be no more guitar or piano playing, and certainly no more using "the shocker" in bed. Tragic.

Occupational Hazards

2008-01-29T21:18:00.000-08:00

After working in the customer service industries for more years than i'd like to count (okay i'll count, five.) I, like every other person i know, have managed to compile a list of truly toe-curling situations that often leave you wondering if you've unknowingly transported into an alternate universe where you are stripped of your dignity and must cater to the every whim of subhuman assholes.

Wait, that wouldn't be an alternate universe.

Really though, what is it about wearing all black and a name tag that screams, "please sodomize me emotionally! And hey, throw in a spanking while you're at it. I've been a naughty girl?" Or better yet -- what makes certain comments, that if taken out of situational context, would be downright unreal, all of the sudden acceptable?

Just because i greet you, bring you drinks, seat you in that booth that you love so much, or even say my name (its on the name tag too, please stop mispronouncing it) doesn't mean that i, much like the kids that used to copy your homework in high school, want to be your friend or can even tolerate you.

Let me take you back to my days as a restaurant hostess at the restaurant chain that we'll call T.F. Wang's. Names have been changed enough to cover my ass legally, but not enough to spare the other parties involved. Now, while this was and still is one of my favorite restaurant chains to blow $20 at, it is perhaps the worst company i have ever worked for. Not only did they impose a bogus dress code which included the words "stiletto" and "feminine v-cut neckline", which basically translated to "shoes that make your feet feel broken in 3 places" and "shirts that let your tits hang out" but whenever one of us was sexually harassed at work -- which was often, due to our apparel, the management would do absolutely nothing.

I honestly can't count the number of times that married men would come in and blatantly hit on me not only in front of their wives, but their children as well. Then of course for the rest of their dinner i would feel a bizarre urge to want to apologize to the family for the man's douche-baggery, but at the same time want nothing more than to avoid their table at all costs.

Being eye-fucked does not sound appealing metaphorically or literally.

Of course not every encounter consists solely of sexual harassment -- sometimes you're blessed to have a customer that takes it upon themselves to go above and beyond the confines of accepted social behavior. I once had Mr. Music-Industry-Executive not only tip me with his phone number, but also with a little baggy of cocaine. Logically, this not only confused me, but it also raised up a few questions in my mind:

how many people carry little party-favor-sized coke baggies?

mathematically, coke < money =" coke">
did we switch back to the barter system and did i miss the memo?
was this a sample or was i supposed to call and pay him back? Is this a come-on or a door-to-door salesman?

and was my performance at work so underwhelming that even he felt that i needed a little pick-me-up?

Of course, the restaurant industry isn't the only place where you're presented with such fantastically awkward situations. I recently finished a stint at a Salon & Spa in Seattle called Jean Marquez where i was -- what else -- a Spa Hostess. With basically the same responsibilities as a restaurant hostess, my job at the salon was fairly easy and for the most part the other employees were great to work with, plus i made decent money which is always a perk. However, in conjunction with the increase of income-per-guest ratio, there was a huge increase in the sane-to-insane guest ratio. The more money someone has, the more insane they and their demands are.

Now as you keep this fact in mind, imagine how fucking crazy someone is if they're able to spend $2500 in one visit on salon/spa services alone. Here is a short list of my nightmares come to life:

guests that literally almost have panic attacks when we've run out of apples or lemons for their water

being verbally assaulted by a guest after failing to get her iced tea order correct, then having her threaten me by saying that she could "ruin my career." (oh please no. anything but that.)

having to pick out a used adult diaper from the feminine trash bin. Incontinence used to be funny.

having to pick out bloody tampons from the feminine trash bin. Vaginal blood was never funny.

picking up used towels around the locker room, then discovering that they were covered with short curly hairs that could not grow on legs or on a head.
walking in to the locker room and seeing a stark-naked woman with one leg up on the sink (surrounded by mirrors) as she shaves her vagina.

vaginas. old. saggy vaginas.

Naked women that nobody wants to see naked coming up to me and trying to have entire conversations as i shift back and forth nervously and a beads of cold sweat form along my forehead.

having to clean urine off the men's bathroom floor.

Now, while all those experiences were considerably bad and often made bile rise up into my mouth, there is one moment in my working life that absolutely takes the proverbial shitty-job cake.

I worked at a fitness club called... uh... 20-something hour fitness... and the job itself was so unbelievably easy that for the graveyard shift they had one employee who was gun-obsessed, had the education of a 5th grader and im pretty sure was an ex-convict -- and another employee whose english skills were so poor that he may very well have entered this country on a floating door a week prior to his being hired.

Every now and then a certain guest would come in only to shower. Now, usually this wouldn't be disconcerting except for the fact that he looked and dressed exactly like Leatherface from "Texas Chainsaw Massacre" -- sans the stitched-together face of course and somehow also managed to walk with the same limp that someone would develop after a lifetime of dragging a chainsaw around. Not to mention he smelled like he hadn't showered in months. There was also something about the way he looked at other females -- it was something akin to how i imagine a serial killer would look at his next victim. But despite those facts, i was nice to him and didn't give him too much grief when he invariably, always, forgot his membership card. One day though, i was working with one other person and it was nearing 11pm when Leatherface came in and said he just needed to use the restrooms. He wasn't asking for permission, he was just letting me know what he was going to do whether or not i let him in. Some twenty-odd minutes later he storms out, smiles at me and tells me to "have a fun night."

I don't think much of it, but then walk into the bathroom and literally see shit smeared all over the walls, floor and on the toilet seat. It was as if someone had literally had explosive diarrhea so severe that their actual sphincter exploded, painting all of the walls with brown.

I immediately called management and told them what happened, to which they replied "there is nothing we can do. Sorry."

I left the bathroom as it was and quit on the spot.

I briefly questioned my decision on the way down to the parking lot, thinking that it was perhaps a bit hasty on my behalf -- when i ran into Leatherface, sleeping on the floor by the doorway of the parking garage. A blender filled with a blood-red substance, a small radio and him changed into a pair of spandex shorts so gay that Richard Simmons himself would say "wow. thats a little loud." If that weren't enough, right outside the door (what i could only assume) was his dilapidated, wood paneled van, parked with about 3/4ths of an inch of dust and a treadmill machine on top. I didn't understand -- or want to. The last thing i heard was him toss in his sleep then emit a horrible sounding fart.

I never looked back.

"Why don't you blog about it???"

2007-04-22T22:43:00.000-07:00

I've realized that i spend most of my day in front of a computer, reading through emails, doing work, wasting my life on MySpace and reading friends blogs:

Valley Girl Intelligentsia

Hibly Central

/end shameless plug.

So i've decided to make and use my little square inch of Blogger heaven to write about everyday observations, rants and realizations.

At some point i'll probably offend every reader through my writings, and that's exactly how i like it. We waste enough time in our lives trying to cater to social expectations and political correctness -- why do it in cyberspace too? There's no time for that, especially when those precious seconds could be used to keep up with Britney's fluctuating weight gain/loss. Remember the good ol' days? Remember???

On that note -- BRITNEY COME BACK!!! You've left such a gaping hole in my pop-loving heart.