Outrage in technicolor

Why, Myanmar? Why? I don't understand why you won't distribute the 38 ton of emergency food and aid flown over by the UN that could help 95,000 people. It's sitting on the freaking airport tar mat! Xenophobia I can understand but the fact that your embassy in Thailand is taking today off due to a national holiday (amidst the growing death toll of your people) so that the very people who could help your sick can't get visas, I'm befuddled by. Also, you're also more concerned about the national election than directing those funds towards-I don't know-getting body bags for the corpses floating in your rivers. Screw malaria, screw the hunger, the broken bones, the newly orphaned children, the damaged homes, and screw the Burmese people because your junta are megalomaniacs.

Seriously, prove me wrong, Myanmar. Please, prove me wrong.

Also, I've watched the first seven minutes of Speed Racer and am looking forward to the sober acid trip that this film will take me on. Acting-wise, I've got low expectations for, but hey, I'm going to be watching what will be a live-action version of Mario Kart's Rainbow Road in an IMAX theater this Saturday so screw expectations. There's going be some wire-fu, cars, and a color scheme similar to Skittles! I'm set!

Rob Gordon Lives on in Me

Top 4 Dead Artists I Would Screw Up the Time-Space Continuum for:
1. Elliott Smith
2. Kurt Cobain
3. Ian Curtis
4. John Lennon

Top 5 European Cities I Would like to be Drunk in:
1. Prague
2. London (but not the dodgy end)
3. Berlin
4. Dublin
5. Stockholm

Top 5 Pop 80s Songs that I wish I were the keytar player for:
1. Tainted Love by Soft Cell
2. I Ran (So Far Away) by A Flock of Seagulls
3. Turning Japanese by the Vapors
4. Rock me Amadeus by Falco
5. Wake Me Up Before You Go Go by Wham!

Top 3 Wars that I would become a historian just to be interviewed on NOVA/PBS for:
1. World War II (seriously, what a worldwide, all encompassing war)
2. Mexican Revolution (Actually, I just thoroughly enjoy saying Emiliano Zapata's name.)
3. World War I (for it lead to WWII)

Top 3 Porn Star Names I'd be Proud to go By:
1. Shaft
2. Missy Shocks
3. Bella Trix

Top 3 Presidents I'd Take a Bullet for:
1. Andrew Jackson (he attacked his assassin with his cane and had to be held back by his presidential aide, if that doesn't scream kickass, I don't know what does)
2. Jed Bartlett (He was president for 2 terms according to Aaron Sorkin, works for me.)
3. Teddy Roosevelt (I'll be honest, it's the mustache)

Top 3 Things I'd Say if I were a 100-foot robot:
1. Grrr! Arrrrgh! Destroy!
2. IGNORE ME! (explanation found here)
3. Wow. They really do look like ants from this height.

Top 5 Reasons Supervillian are Awesome time infinity PLUS one:
1. Henchmen. It's practically having 24 hour room service no matter where you are.
2. That smirk they get when they believe they're going to win/just had an ingenious and diabolical thought or plan.
3. The sheer amount of money that gets wasted on schemes.
4. Scheming is your day job.
5. It's okay to be mean. (A life long goal that I wish to sate.)

The times are a'changing

I should have just squandered the rest of my funds on a ticket to the tropics and then sit side by side with you as we drink to the setting sun. Yes, that should have been the bombass thing to do. But now we dwell on 2 vacation weeks a year and things feel peculiarly smaller. Won't you still take walks with me on an all night avenue? And we could stare at all the neons signs begging for our patronage? Because I don't want to be caught helplessly in a life I've become bored of.

I think I can I think I can I think I will...

Cammie doesn't live here anymore

What ever happened to the me that could stay awake until sunrise? What ever happened to the me that would wake up around noon to eat breakfast? She got a full-time job and puts in too much overtime. Granted, I love what I do. (Sort of.) But I meet the dumbest and most peculiar people working for Planned Parenthood. (Yes, I work for an organization that gives birth control to anyone eligible and over the age of 12. It's the same organization known for performing abortions though I have very little involvement in the procedures aside from clerical duties. But let it also be known PP advises safe sex, STD prevention, and provides sexual health education/counseling because we know you all are screwing like rabbits so you might as well be prepared and informed.)

But some of the time, and these are rare cases, I wonder what the hell is happening to our society that so many people can be misinformed. Case in point? Informing a patient that s/he has chlamydia and their oh-so nonchalant response is: "Oh. Well, doesn't everybody get that at some point?" NO. I don't have chlamydia nor do I hope it happens to me at any point in my life. And if it ever does happen (GOD FORBID!!!), I will be the first in line and demanding I get the earliest appointment to get treatment. Unlike some other individuals who have made same day appointments and don't show up despite me telling them that they can come in any time of the day so long as they just show up.

If only there was a comprehensive sexual ed class provided for students. You know, one where the teacher doesn't tell her students that if you're gay, then you're going to hell. (True story.) Or a class where the instructor doesn't play videos about avalanches on days when he's absent. How that even relates to sexual education, I will never understand. And since I'm ranting, let's get a little parent involvement in this. It would probably be nice if you didn't tell your daughters that their periods are a sign of sin because this is not the 1970s and you are not the mother of Carrie. It would also be nice if you didn't call to yell at me because your daughter has birth control pills. So not my fault your kid's caving into her carnal desires. But this isn't an ideal world because the government's still run by religion despite the existence of a constitutional amendment against that. But what do I know? I'm just some girl with a 9-5 job who doesn't mark the sunrise as time for bed anymore.

Spring awakening

"and the wildflowers that grow beside the tracks
wobble wildly on their little stems,
then gradually grow still and stand
motherless and vertical in the middle of everything."

Ground me.

With all the time that has passed, I've been doing what everyone else has: living. I've been moving forward with progression and I'm trying to be okay with all the changes in my life. I've been doing what you all have been doing: making mistakes, growing up into an "adult," and realizing that everything is just perspective. A patient brought me flowers yesterday: a dozen yellow roses. All I did for her shouldn't have amounted to such compliments: I told her that she would be okay, that shit happens, etc etc etc. But perspective, right? Maybe she found some comfort in those words.

I've been tired of these changes too and it's worse when they're happening physically as I can watch the metamorphosis. Good or bad? Into a butterfly or a creature of Kafka's imagination? I don't know.

Unsettling, full of doubt, and restless.

So put me back in to the ground and let me sleep until after spring. April showers. May flowers. June gloom. Wake me up then so I can see where the earth has transformed and let me accept everything after that happens.

Til then...

Dear B,
We're waiting for you with some excitement, some fright, some anxiety, and some preparedness. And when you come, just know that we were waiting in sheer anticipation for what you will bring to our lives. And we'll be okay, I know it, because you will be the change for us. Good or bad? It's all up to you, kiddo.
See you soon and love always,
C

O Demise!

There's something wrong with my laptop and now I can't access the internet (but I do when I'm at work, and hence this post). My lappy lap was plague by THEBLUESCREENOFDEATH. And yes, it hurt so much that it's one word to me. Oh lappy, how I miss your internet abilities.

The difference in the shades

I was one cracked out kid growing up. Most people had imaginary best friends growing up. I had an imaginary mortal enemy. Her name was Tiffany Cool and to this, I still consider her my nemesis. Wow. I guess paranoia stems from the womb, or it did so in my case.

Space Oddity?

I had a very odd dream last night that included a newspaper stating false rumors about me and a friend (supposedly we were dating?), a school that didn't allow my friend Justin to draw, my mutiny against said school, destruction of a super computer by me, magic a la Harry Potter (we all had wands!), and a class that thought I was dumb until I told them I was doing my residency. It was very odd, very complicated, and very detailed. To say the least.

Clothes make the man

I bought hospital scrubs for my job today. I feel important. But I think my sisters are tired of me running around the house shouting, "Nurse! Where is my scapel?"

For the book fiend in me

1. Hardcover or paperback, and why?
Hardcover because they seem sturdier and look pretty when stacked.

2. If I were to own a book shop I would call it...
Pages. And I would include a ridiculous amount of CDs and vinyls from all of my favorite artists as well.

3. My favorite quote from a book (mention the title) is...
Dangerous Angels by Francesca Lia Block: “We’ll see each other again. Meet to dream-rock-slink-slam it-jam in the heart of the world. Like we always do.”

4. The author (alive or deceased) I would love to have lunch with would be...
Oscar Wilde so we can be sarcastic, snippy, and witty with one another.

5. If I was going to a deserted island and could only bring one book, except the SAS survival guide, it would be...
a dictionary and none of that abridged stuff. After I'm rescued, I demand to enter a Scrabbles or Spelling Bee competition.

6. I would love someone to invent a bookish gadget that...
that would turn off the lights after you've fallen asleep from reading.

7. The smell of an old book reminds me of...
walking through the aisles in large libraries with my fingers running across the spines of books and me with the most delightful smile as I thought of all the knowledge pressed between the pages.

8. If I could be the lead character in a book (mention the title), it would be...
a cheeky Nancy Drew with a much more foul tongue or Harry Potter in the Prisoner of Azakaban. It's the only one where he actually gains a new family member instead of losing one. (Unless you count the last chapter in the last book, but that's an epilogue so I don't.)

9. The most overestimated book of all time is...
Romeo and Juliet. Okay, star-crossed lovers and feuding families aside, you've got two kids who killed themselves after knowing one another for at most two days. But props to Romeo for getting Juliet in bed after meeting once. Plus, they were 12 and 14, and so what if general life expectancy was in mid-40s? Maybe the Elizabethan age didn't believe in wooing?

10. I hate it when a book...
ends and leaves you pining for one more chapter. Though that a sign of a good book, eh? Or a terribly ill-concluded book.

"My" car is stupid

My parents sold off my Honda CRV so I've been left with my mom's Benz. Hardy har har, make the rich girl jokes, but I'm poor as fuck, people, and to be honest, I still have no idea how my dad swung that buy. Some people have assumed that my dad knows the Triad or has performed some underhanded deal. I really would not be surprised at either.

So for fifteen minutes, I sat in the car, trying to figure out where the latch, button, or key for the gas tank lid was. FIFTEEN MINUTES: of searching, careful inspection of every single button, slamming my head on the wheel, hiding from white gangsters, telling shady creepy men I had no money to spare, reading every single page in the car manual, and cursing the world for building such a complex machine. Then I called my mom with bowed head and shame pouring from my ears.

That shame turned to steam as she explained that the lid is a flip lid, a la a see-saw, where there was no key required, no button to press, no latch to hold. It's not even spring loaded. My god, this car will kill me. I know it. So on my epitaph, I would like the following words: Screw you, German Autobahns.

Gangstas

I'm beginning to see how vicious Di and I get when we play boardgames as we tackled my boyfriend off the bed and subjected him to torture of the tickling kind because he kept getting all these mother effing random questions right. And I thought I had a ridiculous penchant for knowing random shit.

I also said that I would post pictures from my Vegas trip:

The Bellagio cashing in on my culture

Hugging the love of my life

The aftermath of doublefisting Cristal and a Corona. VIP, bitches!

There weren't enough beds to go around...

Disappointed again

Coachella, I am severely disappointed by what you have to offer me this year. Jack Johnson as the Friday night headliner? You have got to kidding me, Goldenvoice. Perhaps this is all one big elaborate and very early April Fool's joke and tomorrow night they will reveal the true lineup which will include My Bloody Valentine or Muse, hell, even Radiohead will do.

I'm going to drown my sorrow in cream puffs now.

Eden, or something very similiar

3am is the perfect time to start eating pastries that you spent 20 minutes driving all over LA in search of (though you originally began the quest for mango pudding but are quite satisfied with your array of cake slices) and reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows for what could be considered the umpteenth time.

Yea, this is what I do now because I don't have a job or school. Or a life really.

Something like that

I saw Cloverfield yesterday with the Boy. We were both amused and full of questions by the end. I, for one, would still like to know what the fuck that creature was and/or where it came from. Deep blue sea? Maybe. Deep blue sky? Maybe. And what were those spider bugs the size of large dogs doing? And how in the world did that girl run around in Manhattan in three inch heels? I would have thrown them off the moment I started fleeing, then looted a store for comfortable tennis shoes (that should come with miniature cow catchers on each foot). All in all, I'd say it was a decent monster movie with destruction, humor, pretty boys saving pretty girls, and uglier than sin monsters.

Still, questions, questions.

Bad timing

Okay, that was dumb of me to start a posting marathon the day right before I leave for a trip. So whoops on my part. Where did I go? To the land of sin and sun and booze! So not my local liquor store but rather Vegas. Now for highlights of the trip as we won't even consider the low lights.

-Hanging out with Di and Ang, which is always a barrel of fun because Ang is very impressionable while Di and I are schemers.
-The music at the Revolution Lounge. The Mirage touted the place as a throwback to indie rock, dance, and hip hop. I think I knew almost every song that was played which could either mean my musical taste is getting broader or theirs is getting more eclectic.
-Winning money from slot machines! Yay!
-The surprisingly comfortable bathtub in our pent house. Seriously, if Ang was a lot more drunk, I think she would have slept in it.
-Calling Di's sister's boyfriend "Papa Tony." It didn't help that we had a rental van and the couple were sitting in the front seats as the "kids" were being rowdy in the back.

Pictures to come!

Random happy things!

With so much free time on my hands, I'm going to try to post every single day for a week just to see if I can. So to start, I will list off a couple of my favorite things in the world, in no particular order, of course.

1. The scene from Little Miss Sunshine where the entire family gets on stage to dance with Olive. I laugh to the point of tears every time I see it. Maybe it's the pelvic thrusts, their enthusiasm, her father's willingness to tackle the announcer, or the center beauty pagent judge that's smiling at Olive's performance.


2. Listening to a song so intensely in order to hear each instrument, each nuance. This is partly due to my obsession with music but I will listen to a song 20 times just to pinpoint each different instrument and there's such satisfaction when I figure out how many guitars are playing or who's singing.

3. Waterfalls for their majestic and destructive nature. Seriously, erosion much?

4. Memorizing the rap bits in songs. At the moment, I have the beginning of De La Soul's rap from the song Feel Good Inc memorized. Sabotage by the Beastie Boys is my next goal.

5. Food that looks gross or ill-described yet are ridiculously delicious. For instance: the Banh Mi, or the Vietnamese Subs. It's a baguette with pate, different types of pork cold cuts, pickled radishes and carrots, and cilantro. It may seem weird, look weird, but something that I could have for lunch every single day of my life.

The Good that Won't Come Out

I've been nursing a headache since Monday and I'm convinced at this point that it's never going away and I'm never going to get sleep at night because of it. I am in pain of the ridiculous kind that no drugs can cure me. Or at least, none of the aspirin or whatever pills I've been shoving down my throat have done the trick. If I weren't so lazy and if it also weren't for the fact that I enjoy living, I would have reached for a pencil to jab into my temples. Because that would have been much less agonizing. I complain because I don't know what else to do. And if this is a brain tumor, I hope it's the kind of tumor that gives me super powers like solving any math equation in under 10 seconds or something along the veins of psychic abilities.

Someone put me out of my misery. Or at least give me enough sleeping pills to decrease the dark grocery bag sized circles under my eyes.

Holy homelessness, Batman!

According to an LA Times article I just read, there's an estimate of 73,000 homeless individuals living in just the Los Angeles region. By the power of grayskull, that has to be a lie. That's about three times the number of kids who went to my college. It's perplexing to think that such a population could exist and it's becomes even more concrete when I imagine walking down Library Walk on a busy afternoon and thinking that every person I saw in that sea of people would only equal a fraction off those without homes. And then I wonder, where do they sleep at night? And how does Skid Row accommodate that grand of number? And how do they hold jobs, well, for the ones that actually do? I mean, what address do they use and how do they renew their passports or driver's licenses? Thanks LA Times for opening this can of worms for me and causing me to feel like a concerned citizen. Where is my apathy and indifference? Where did you go?