My laptop bit the big one Thursday night. I've lost all my pictures from 2009 and whatever music I've received over the last four months. Which was A LOT. I'm glad I backed up my harddrive in February but it still doesn't alleviate the pain.
In the meanwhile, it's back to the old pen and pad of paper.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Yes/No
Thumbs up:
Believing in the "anywhere but here" motto. Doing activities in one sitting. Marathon reading. Drunk dancing. Soft blankets. Plum eyeliner. Gay boyfriends. Paychecks. The smell of "green" and vanilla. Spontaneous acts of recklessness. Nighttime Skylines. Conor Oberst. Motorbikes. Takeoffs and landings. My dead poet lovers: Ian Curtis. Kurt Cobain. Elliott Smith. Making lists. Academia. Red nail polish. Free wifi. Giant coffee mugs. Tiptoe kisses. Making short term brilliant/long term piss poor decisions. Languages. Jewish musicians. New York City. Street vendors. Farmer markets. Arm in arm walks. Gael Garcia Bernal. Coke. Black motorcycle jackets.
Thumbs down:
Pop music. Sarah Palin. Beer breath. Long distance. Traffic. Laundry. Taxes. Short battery life. Delays. Telemarketers. Idiots. Sarah Palin, who's worth a second mention. Confederate states with people who people it's still 1863. Red eye flights. Soggy shoes. Diaper duty. Dry skin. Epilogues. Breaking concert etiquette. Chick lit.
Believing in the "anywhere but here" motto. Doing activities in one sitting. Marathon reading. Drunk dancing. Soft blankets. Plum eyeliner. Gay boyfriends. Paychecks. The smell of "green" and vanilla. Spontaneous acts of recklessness. Nighttime Skylines. Conor Oberst. Motorbikes. Takeoffs and landings. My dead poet lovers: Ian Curtis. Kurt Cobain. Elliott Smith. Making lists. Academia. Red nail polish. Free wifi. Giant coffee mugs. Tiptoe kisses. Making short term brilliant/long term piss poor decisions. Languages. Jewish musicians. New York City. Street vendors. Farmer markets. Arm in arm walks. Gael Garcia Bernal. Coke. Black motorcycle jackets.
Thumbs down:
Pop music. Sarah Palin. Beer breath. Long distance. Traffic. Laundry. Taxes. Short battery life. Delays. Telemarketers. Idiots. Sarah Palin, who's worth a second mention. Confederate states with people who people it's still 1863. Red eye flights. Soggy shoes. Diaper duty. Dry skin. Epilogues. Breaking concert etiquette. Chick lit.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Greenbacks, payback
Madoff, you silly fuck. You screwed my organization out of millions of dollars. There goes my pay raise. I hope you get shanked in the showers.
I'm developing a workshop/program for the LGBTQ community and last week my boss told me, "No pressure, but we have a lot of grants riding on your program. But no pressure, ok?" Insert deranged laughter here. Grants = a few thousand to hundred of thousands of dollars. So no pressure indeed.
And current travel plans? Egypt and Greece. Sweet! Knowing me, this will change in a week's time. Oh, my fickle, fickle tendencies.
P.S. I really hope someone pees on your bed, Madoff. I really do.
I'm developing a workshop/program for the LGBTQ community and last week my boss told me, "No pressure, but we have a lot of grants riding on your program. But no pressure, ok?" Insert deranged laughter here. Grants = a few thousand to hundred of thousands of dollars. So no pressure indeed.
And current travel plans? Egypt and Greece. Sweet! Knowing me, this will change in a week's time. Oh, my fickle, fickle tendencies.
P.S. I really hope someone pees on your bed, Madoff. I really do.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Do it
I am going to make a short film this summer.
But first, I will write the script for it before even trying to get that ship to sail.
I am going to be an somewhat-okay-but-still-needs-to-work-at-it amateur photographer. (I do not think I included enough hyphens in that sentence.)
But first, I will take a thousand pictures on each setting I have so I can figure out what the hell my camera is good for, then upgrade to something more expensive!
I am going to visit my friends wherever they are this year. First stop, Seattle. Next will be Chicago or Monterey. We'll see.
Those are my three goals for 2009. I don't make New Years resolutions because I suck at them. Instead, I'll try to get my ambition to work out for me because I really miss making short films and haven't done so in quite a long while. Biggest problem that's stopping me isn't writer's block, it's having a damn camera to film with. God, materialism does make the world go round.
But first, I will write the script for it before even trying to get that ship to sail.
I am going to be an somewhat-okay-but-still-needs-to-work-at-it amateur photographer. (I do not think I included enough hyphens in that sentence.)
But first, I will take a thousand pictures on each setting I have so I can figure out what the hell my camera is good for, then upgrade to something more expensive!
I am going to visit my friends wherever they are this year. First stop, Seattle. Next will be Chicago or Monterey. We'll see.
Those are my three goals for 2009. I don't make New Years resolutions because I suck at them. Instead, I'll try to get my ambition to work out for me because I really miss making short films and haven't done so in quite a long while. Biggest problem that's stopping me isn't writer's block, it's having a damn camera to film with. God, materialism does make the world go round.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Across the universe
It's been a shit-tastic couple of weeks but I'm already edging on the "been there, done that" part and moving on. Summer is about to start and I'm getting my plans in action. I'm trying to narrow down my choices of travel spots. If David pulls through, I think I'm going to Africa. But the prospect of stepping on a landmine while I'm in Morocco is not appeasing. I really had my heart set on Belize but it's windy weather in the October and if I'm going to Belize, I am not going to be bundle up in long sleeves and jackets. So, Barcelona and Berlin could be another option in the fall. Or Japan, Korea, Hong Kong, Brazil, etc etc etc. Odd how I don't have Italy, London, or Paris on my list of places to go. Western civilization be damned, I suppose.
I've been bitten by the travel bug so bad that it's developing into a constant itch. No matter how much I want to get it out of my system, I'm stuck with the ever wanting desire to be somewhere new, trying something new.
It's awful. I dream of airports. That's how bad it is. Le sigh.
I've been bitten by the travel bug so bad that it's developing into a constant itch. No matter how much I want to get it out of my system, I'm stuck with the ever wanting desire to be somewhere new, trying something new.
It's awful. I dream of airports. That's how bad it is. Le sigh.
Monday, May 25, 2009
Blue light special
Raul shouldn't have taught me how to work the ISO function, I played with it for the rest of the night while my friends danced around the living room in a drunken frenzy. Another Sunday night as usual, huh?
I'm learning how to use the shutter speed and aperture function on my camera. Shutter, I'm getting better at. Aperture still confuses me. Oh well, more experimenting to come!
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Golden Slumbers
The break up was inevitable. To say that I saw it coming is nothing but wistful hindsight because when it did happened, I still stared moronically in frozen confusion. I had to go from the We mentality to the just Me mentality after years of Us. Contemplative sadness, silent regret that I should have been more careful. But five years, five years of abuse, of rock n roll tumbling, of one-sided wants that my iPod would eventually give out.
Sleep tight, Pretty Baby. You were my first iPod and now I leave you to Apple heaven. A little part of me died the day you showed me that electronic iPod with the unhappy face, like the Microsoft blue screen of death, you stilled my heart. A moment of silence please, then crank up the volume to 11 as I host an all night dance party in lieu of your wake.
Sleep tight, Pretty Baby. You were my first iPod and now I leave you to Apple heaven. A little part of me died the day you showed me that electronic iPod with the unhappy face, like the Microsoft blue screen of death, you stilled my heart. A moment of silence please, then crank up the volume to 11 as I host an all night dance party in lieu of your wake.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Rawr!
So that pretty much sums up my weekend: birthday parties with moon bounces, bar hopping, sitting and talking to a random guy on a roof of a party my friends and I crashed, faux-Weezer show at the Knitting Factory, the demented streets of Hollywood and how I would take a piss on Jimmy Kimmel for blocking off Hollywood Blvd, Factory Record night at the Echo, eating pints of frozen yogurt with Carlitos, losing my favorite lighter (it had a daisy print!) to a gutter, cementing my fag hag status, arguing with my mom that I am not a lesbian and that Phuong and I are not running away to NYC together, crying to Bon Iver because I'm an emotional wreck, and dancing to Joy Division because I got over being an emotional wreck.
One of the busiest weekends in a while. Normally, I'd just sleep 40 hours straight. But in the end, it was also a weekend of lessons. For instance:
Which I find a whole lot better than those "Employees, wash your hands before returning to work" signs.
One of the busiest weekends in a while. Normally, I'd just sleep 40 hours straight. But in the end, it was also a weekend of lessons. For instance:
Which I find a whole lot better than those "Employees, wash your hands before returning to work" signs.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Mid-week Pondering
"Cammie! I need your opinion! During my emo stage yesterday, I realized that you were going to be my friend forever, so I need you to pay attention to me!"
Best words ever.
Strike that, best words ever would be: "Hi, I'm Alex Kapranos/Conor Oberst/one of the other musicians I've had a fan girl crush on since I was 16, and think you're gorgeous. Will you be my muse and come with me on a world tour?"
Those would be the best words ever. Ah, wait, more best words include: "Hi, I'm Hugo Chavez, Venezuela is yours. That was an amazing coup, by the way."
I keep telling myself to do something fun with this blog, so I won't sprawl on my bed all day long reading comics and the news. Both of which has me highly versed in obscure topics, but hardly a conversation starter. I know all the current presidents/dictators of South America. Uh, so what? Thus, I am leaning in two directions.
1. To start a music blog and share one of my favorite songs a day. That would take dedication, which I lack. My friend Carol has a daily blog, TodayontheInterwebs.blogspot.com, and she's told me how time consuming it can be, not to be mention, the dearth of new items to post.
2. Gonzo photojournalism. My life is amazing in the minute ways. With Carlos and Phuong at my side in LA and a camera in hand, I am sure there will be millions of random moments and bizarre events to capture. Plus sides include working on my photography skills, which are nil at the moment so all the more reason to play around with the functions on my point-and-shoot; hanging out with Phuong and Carlos more; and having photographic evidence of my adventures in LA. Downsides include all the above as I would have to leave my house to have said adventures, and do I really want evidence of such events?
So I can always do both but I would berate myself later for a lack of focus. I think I'll mull over these options for some more and maybe by the year 2025, I'll finally come to an answer. If not, here's to years of compulsive whining about it!
Best words ever.
Strike that, best words ever would be: "Hi, I'm Alex Kapranos/Conor Oberst/one of the other musicians I've had a fan girl crush on since I was 16, and think you're gorgeous. Will you be my muse and come with me on a world tour?"
Those would be the best words ever. Ah, wait, more best words include: "Hi, I'm Hugo Chavez, Venezuela is yours. That was an amazing coup, by the way."
I keep telling myself to do something fun with this blog, so I won't sprawl on my bed all day long reading comics and the news. Both of which has me highly versed in obscure topics, but hardly a conversation starter. I know all the current presidents/dictators of South America. Uh, so what? Thus, I am leaning in two directions.
1. To start a music blog and share one of my favorite songs a day. That would take dedication, which I lack. My friend Carol has a daily blog, TodayontheInterwebs.blogspot.com, and she's told me how time consuming it can be, not to be mention, the dearth of new items to post.
2. Gonzo photojournalism. My life is amazing in the minute ways. With Carlos and Phuong at my side in LA and a camera in hand, I am sure there will be millions of random moments and bizarre events to capture. Plus sides include working on my photography skills, which are nil at the moment so all the more reason to play around with the functions on my point-and-shoot; hanging out with Phuong and Carlos more; and having photographic evidence of my adventures in LA. Downsides include all the above as I would have to leave my house to have said adventures, and do I really want evidence of such events?
So I can always do both but I would berate myself later for a lack of focus. I think I'll mull over these options for some more and maybe by the year 2025, I'll finally come to an answer. If not, here's to years of compulsive whining about it!
Sunday, April 26, 2009
World News
The world is crazy place and South East Asia is a crackpot capital for crazy regimes. I've been moved to pieces by what human nature can do. Anyone recall the march of the monks in Tibet? Or the floods in Thailand and the government's refusal for aid? Well, the Fijians are the next in line for regimes that deserve awards for stupidity. In short, the Man has shut down all manner of relaying political news to the people. In return, the media has done the following:
The television news bulletin was canceled and the next day the Fiji Times appeared with blank columns with "This story could not be published due to government restrictions" written across them.
The rival Fiji Post tried a satirical approach, reporting on what staff had eaten for breakfast on the front page.
Oh, Dictator Voreqe Bainimarama, you silly rabbit with your silly lock downs. And what's with this swine flu business? I'm beginning to think vegans are exacting their revenge on the world by attacking commonly consumed meat. First the avian flu, now swine? What animal is left? Fish? I'd say beef, but we've got Mad Cow Disease for that. The funny thing about this new epidemic is my newly fueled enthusiasm to join the World Health Org or the CDC. So far, mild cases have been noted in all affected countries but Mexico, where's it been most fatal. I feel like I could Nancy Drew the situation and find out it was Colonel Mustard in the Conservatory with the lead pipe. Or at least pull a "Eureka!" when I discover the polluted water supply producing tainted food for the pigs. Which Colonel Mustard could have had a hand in because we all the Romans went a little crazy (and dead) from know lead pipes.
In conclusion, I had no idea that Colonel Mustard was alive during the Roman Empire until two sentences ago. Why am I not pursuing a doctorate in history? I'd be an awesome professor!
The television news bulletin was canceled and the next day the Fiji Times appeared with blank columns with "This story could not be published due to government restrictions" written across them.
The rival Fiji Post tried a satirical approach, reporting on what staff had eaten for breakfast on the front page.
Oh, Dictator Voreqe Bainimarama, you silly rabbit with your silly lock downs. And what's with this swine flu business? I'm beginning to think vegans are exacting their revenge on the world by attacking commonly consumed meat. First the avian flu, now swine? What animal is left? Fish? I'd say beef, but we've got Mad Cow Disease for that. The funny thing about this new epidemic is my newly fueled enthusiasm to join the World Health Org or the CDC. So far, mild cases have been noted in all affected countries but Mexico, where's it been most fatal. I feel like I could Nancy Drew the situation and find out it was Colonel Mustard in the Conservatory with the lead pipe. Or at least pull a "Eureka!" when I discover the polluted water supply producing tainted food for the pigs. Which Colonel Mustard could have had a hand in because we all the Romans went a little crazy (and dead) from know lead pipes.
In conclusion, I had no idea that Colonel Mustard was alive during the Roman Empire until two sentences ago. Why am I not pursuing a doctorate in history? I'd be an awesome professor!
Babe, I've got you
God bless the new stalker tendencies of Facebook. I just discovered that my friend of a friend is expecting his first kid. And our mutual friend? He's going to be a Dad in a few months as well. I'm not a big fan of my current stage in life as people keep getting knocked up (outside of my workplace, that is) or getting married. A person truly enters their mid 20 when wedding invitations are followed by baby shower invitations. It's really scary. And pessimistic.
It's almost inspiration for me to settle down--HA!--but then I remember how much I don't like children, marriage, or first dates. All of which I would need to do if I want to play wifey. Sometimes, I feel left behind in this rat race: find the one, tie the knot, buy the house, have the kids, etc. I'm huffing and puffing as I try to accomplish the first leg of the race while others are strolling towards the finish line. Is that fair? No. But I never assumed it would be. And I understand that completely. Perspective. I'm a big fan of it. I'm sure my married/soon to be married friends will tell me that life is just as difficult for them and I'd agree. Different priorities, different responsibilities.
At the brittle age of 24, I've decided that I don't want to get married or have kids, which kinda knocks me off of the True Blue stage. I think if I also said I was gay, I would totally go against the grain of all things "expected." (But that's a whole different subject for another day.) Children are an obstacle to impromptu vacations and keeping odd sleeping hours. And those happen to be two things I value in life. Again with the perspective, okay? As for marriage, I channel Debbie Downer. It's a legal facade for two people as the only good thing I see from "marriage" is the tax break. Good-bye single filing, hello joint filing and bigger tax refunds. It's all so pomp and circumstance with the ceremony, reception, planning, and outfits. Ideally, I'd find the One and we'll leave it at that. The End.
5 Things I would use my kid for and/or 5 Reasons I wouldn't be a good parent:
1. Panhandling to help out their unemployed/lazy mom
2. Loaning my kid to my single, desperate friends who need help picking up girls
3. Human sacrifice, in case kittens just won't sate the Great Demon Lord
4. An organ bank for when my own organs start to break down
5. Coasters, because someone has to keep those coffee tables stain-free.
It's almost inspiration for me to settle down--HA!--but then I remember how much I don't like children, marriage, or first dates. All of which I would need to do if I want to play wifey. Sometimes, I feel left behind in this rat race: find the one, tie the knot, buy the house, have the kids, etc. I'm huffing and puffing as I try to accomplish the first leg of the race while others are strolling towards the finish line. Is that fair? No. But I never assumed it would be. And I understand that completely. Perspective. I'm a big fan of it. I'm sure my married/soon to be married friends will tell me that life is just as difficult for them and I'd agree. Different priorities, different responsibilities.
At the brittle age of 24, I've decided that I don't want to get married or have kids, which kinda knocks me off of the True Blue stage. I think if I also said I was gay, I would totally go against the grain of all things "expected." (But that's a whole different subject for another day.) Children are an obstacle to impromptu vacations and keeping odd sleeping hours. And those happen to be two things I value in life. Again with the perspective, okay? As for marriage, I channel Debbie Downer. It's a legal facade for two people as the only good thing I see from "marriage" is the tax break. Good-bye single filing, hello joint filing and bigger tax refunds. It's all so pomp and circumstance with the ceremony, reception, planning, and outfits. Ideally, I'd find the One and we'll leave it at that. The End.
5 Things I would use my kid for and/or 5 Reasons I wouldn't be a good parent:
1. Panhandling to help out their unemployed/lazy mom
2. Loaning my kid to my single, desperate friends who need help picking up girls
3. Human sacrifice, in case kittens just won't sate the Great Demon Lord
4. An organ bank for when my own organs start to break down
5. Coasters, because someone has to keep those coffee tables stain-free.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Recap
Five things I've forgotten about Coachella until I was at the festival:
1. Obviously, the heat. The overwhelming, must find shade or I will die, oh God is this what the pits of hell must feel like heat.
2. Wandering into a random tent will lead you to finding your favorite new band.
3. Everyone is SO nice. Probably because they're on a lot of drugs.
4. Looking for your car among thousands of other cars at 1am is the worst game of Marco Polo ever. Hooray for the panic button on my car remote!
5. No matter how skimpy you think you're dressed, there will always be someone with a little less clothing than you. Re: Man in the Speedo.
Four unexpected things that happened this past weekend:
1. Missing Conor and nearly all of Franz Ferdinand because it took two hours to travel 2 bloody miles and getting mad at the disastrous parking situation to the point where I was crying. Good times. Not.
2. Having a mild heatstroke, twice! Goodbye vision and hello nice damp ground.
3. Listening to Leonard Cohen's "I'm Your man" in one ear while Morrissey is singing "This Charming Man" in the other. It was a Twilight Zone for the audio senses.
4. Meeting David Hasselhoff!
Three of my favorite sets:
1. The Yeah Yeah Yeahs
2. Fleet Foxes
3. Late of the Pier
4. By default, Franz Ferdinand would be on this list even though I didn't see them because I know they would have put on a good set.
Two Moments that will define Coachella 09 for me:
1. Leonard Cohen's performance of Hallelujah and the mesmerized crowd.
2. Paul McCartney tearing up at the dedication of My Love to his late wife.
One thing that will never change:
The stupid Coachella Conor Curse. It's 3 for 3 years now. So I suppose the world can survive another day as he and I won't spawn children of the apocalypse. Kudos, Fate, you've screwed me over again.
So, Coachella 2010, anyone?
1. Obviously, the heat. The overwhelming, must find shade or I will die, oh God is this what the pits of hell must feel like heat.
2. Wandering into a random tent will lead you to finding your favorite new band.
3. Everyone is SO nice. Probably because they're on a lot of drugs.
4. Looking for your car among thousands of other cars at 1am is the worst game of Marco Polo ever. Hooray for the panic button on my car remote!
5. No matter how skimpy you think you're dressed, there will always be someone with a little less clothing than you. Re: Man in the Speedo.
Four unexpected things that happened this past weekend:
1. Missing Conor and nearly all of Franz Ferdinand because it took two hours to travel 2 bloody miles and getting mad at the disastrous parking situation to the point where I was crying. Good times. Not.
2. Having a mild heatstroke, twice! Goodbye vision and hello nice damp ground.
3. Listening to Leonard Cohen's "I'm Your man" in one ear while Morrissey is singing "This Charming Man" in the other. It was a Twilight Zone for the audio senses.
4. Meeting David Hasselhoff!
Three of my favorite sets:
1. The Yeah Yeah Yeahs
2. Fleet Foxes
3. Late of the Pier
4. By default, Franz Ferdinand would be on this list even though I didn't see them because I know they would have put on a good set.
Two Moments that will define Coachella 09 for me:
1. Leonard Cohen's performance of Hallelujah and the mesmerized crowd.
2. Paul McCartney tearing up at the dedication of My Love to his late wife.
One thing that will never change:
The stupid Coachella Conor Curse. It's 3 for 3 years now. So I suppose the world can survive another day as he and I won't spawn children of the apocalypse. Kudos, Fate, you've screwed me over again.
So, Coachella 2010, anyone?
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
The Coachella Gods are dead.
Mother of god!!!! Third year that I'm being screwed over to see Conor Oberst at Coachella. It's ridiculous to the point where I think the world is against me and Conor ever locking eyes and falling madly in love for fear that our children will usher in the Apocalypse, or at least write terrible pop songs that no person should ever be subjected to. Let's see what previous (and soon to be previous) years have forced me to choose between:
2004, Conor versus Air/Muse.
2005, Conor versus me having a ride home because he was the last act of the night.
2009, Conor versus Franz Ferdinand.
I mean, COME ON! It's Franz FREAKING Ferdinand! They're the love of my dancefloor life! The odds are constantly stacked against me each year that it doesn't make sense anymore. I'm going to sulk underneath my desk at work now.
2004, Conor versus Air/Muse.
2005, Conor versus me having a ride home because he was the last act of the night.
2009, Conor versus Franz Ferdinand.
I mean, COME ON! It's Franz FREAKING Ferdinand! They're the love of my dancefloor life! The odds are constantly stacked against me each year that it doesn't make sense anymore. I'm going to sulk underneath my desk at work now.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
God save the queen!
Okay, I suck at this blogging thing. Strike that, I really, really, really suck at this blogging thing because I'm no longer an angst-ridding 16 year old girl who believes the world hates me and I'm condemned to a life of misunderstandings by anyone over the age of 30, therefore I have to spend 15 minutes every day writing about the terrible and at times gasp-inducing moments of my life. Instead, I grew up to be a 24 year old girl with bad sleeping and eating habits and who has a freaking good concept of "perspective." I also grew up to be a girl with a run-on sentence problem, but that's neither here nor there. Rather, it's a "I suck at grammar forever" issue. So my consolation to myself is to keep a weekly list of things and see where things go from there. Here's this week list, and in no particular order:
My Top 4 Biblical Moments
1. When Michael fought Lucifer, which gave rise to the concept of good and evil, archangels, fallen angels, and epic tattoos.
2. Noah and his ark, which must of had some secret compartment to Narnia or how did he fit two of every dinosaur? Have you not seen a T-Rex? They're huge!
3. Adam and Eve chilling in Eden with polar bears, lions, and alligators like it was an every day occurrence, which it actually was for them.
4. Cain and Abel, the first recorded tale of sibling rivalry and source of my favorite biblical quote, "Am I my brother's keeper?"
5. The Rapture, it just sounds cool and a constant reminder of people's paranoia.
I like the Bible, which I even capitalized to show how much I like it. Only I'm a fan of it from a very non-religious stance. Broken down in base terms, I think it's a very good book with very interesting plots. Taken out of Christian theology, the bible is filled with epic stories. For instance, the destruction of a city? Parents using their children as sacrifices? Lion dens, murder, a whole lot of this "begetting" issue, and a civil war in heaven instigated by a former angel? If you were to fictionalize that last one, you would have a really keen tale of two ex-friends (Michael and Lucifer) at war with each other to keep their sides from fall apart, a ruler who stands on the edge of events and watches it unfold, and a war with sword fights and crossbows. There's probably a lot more to that but I haven't read that verse in detail.
I'm not even going to explain myself any further because that would probably lead to a lot of people getting angry at me or not willing to see things from where I stand. Hey, remember the 24 year old girl with the good sense of "perspective?" She's backing away right now and just wants all to know that she's currently reading Paradise Lost, so that list stems from 2am reading of prose.
Till the next week, now to ponder what list I'll write up then. (I'm also noting the odd factor of this list being posted on Easter Sunday.)
My Top 4 Biblical Moments
1. When Michael fought Lucifer, which gave rise to the concept of good and evil, archangels, fallen angels, and epic tattoos.
2. Noah and his ark, which must of had some secret compartment to Narnia or how did he fit two of every dinosaur? Have you not seen a T-Rex? They're huge!
3. Adam and Eve chilling in Eden with polar bears, lions, and alligators like it was an every day occurrence, which it actually was for them.
4. Cain and Abel, the first recorded tale of sibling rivalry and source of my favorite biblical quote, "Am I my brother's keeper?"
5. The Rapture, it just sounds cool and a constant reminder of people's paranoia.
I like the Bible, which I even capitalized to show how much I like it. Only I'm a fan of it from a very non-religious stance. Broken down in base terms, I think it's a very good book with very interesting plots. Taken out of Christian theology, the bible is filled with epic stories. For instance, the destruction of a city? Parents using their children as sacrifices? Lion dens, murder, a whole lot of this "begetting" issue, and a civil war in heaven instigated by a former angel? If you were to fictionalize that last one, you would have a really keen tale of two ex-friends (Michael and Lucifer) at war with each other to keep their sides from fall apart, a ruler who stands on the edge of events and watches it unfold, and a war with sword fights and crossbows. There's probably a lot more to that but I haven't read that verse in detail.
I'm not even going to explain myself any further because that would probably lead to a lot of people getting angry at me or not willing to see things from where I stand. Hey, remember the 24 year old girl with the good sense of "perspective?" She's backing away right now and just wants all to know that she's currently reading Paradise Lost, so that list stems from 2am reading of prose.
Till the next week, now to ponder what list I'll write up then. (I'm also noting the odd factor of this list being posted on Easter Sunday.)
Monday, March 16, 2009
Down the rabbit hole
I vasovagal-ed today. That has never happened to me before, it was a weird feeling to be the one on the exam table while my co-workers hovered beside me to make sure I wasn't going to lose consciousness. Then my chest tightened and I wish I had my inhaler. Today is one of those stupid days, where all signs pointed to Rome, or in my case, the doctor's office. Screw 2009 being the year of the Ox, it's the year of health care bills. I'm about 700 down. How did that happen? That's a new laptop right there--before shipping, handling, and taxes, that is. Still, NEW computer!
Friday, February 27, 2009
Be kind, rewind
Working in a health care profession is too tempting to call in your own prescriptions for happy drugs. Although, I found out today that my friend had to fire someone from her clinic for doing such a thing. But that's because the person was stupid. You don't do orders for 40 vicodin tablets because most insurances will only pay for a 30 quantity supply fill. Well, that's your after school special from me this week: How to Manipulate the System for Drugs.
But yeah! Drugs, please! My mouth is a bit sore from the dentist. The trip wasn't all that bad, considering I'm no longer eight years old and require three medical assistants to hold me down and a bite guard to prevent me from chomping off the dentist's fingers. The diagnosis was not awe-inspiring at all. Instead, I have multiple follow up visits that will result in numbing parts of my face/mouth. Oh, and I need to get some wisdom teeth pulled. Mothereffer. I really hope I get some vicodin.
On another close but separate tangent, I would make a really bad drug addict.
So the other half of this horrible, no good, terrible week's recap involves my launch into the past on Sunday. I was catapulted about 15 good years into my past at the engagement party. Met the bride who was my BFF when I was five, because Barbies are friendship builders and she had quite a few. Met the guy after my dad reintroduced us for five seconds, then met him again after his tipsy dad re-reintroduced us. To commemorate the encounter, we had an awkward conversation and our picture taken. At the party, my family ran into the husband of my pre-kindergarten days babysitter. I was the flower girl for their wedding and spent many nights asleep at her place. So of course, we hightailed it to his house for a 15 year reunion. Seeing her teenage kids was an odd experience, especially when I told them that I knew their mom and dad before they were married.
That marks my foray into a time period I'd never think to revisit. Oh, and t-minus 15 minutes until I turn 24. Hooray???
But yeah! Drugs, please! My mouth is a bit sore from the dentist. The trip wasn't all that bad, considering I'm no longer eight years old and require three medical assistants to hold me down and a bite guard to prevent me from chomping off the dentist's fingers. The diagnosis was not awe-inspiring at all. Instead, I have multiple follow up visits that will result in numbing parts of my face/mouth. Oh, and I need to get some wisdom teeth pulled. Mothereffer. I really hope I get some vicodin.
On another close but separate tangent, I would make a really bad drug addict.
So the other half of this horrible, no good, terrible week's recap involves my launch into the past on Sunday. I was catapulted about 15 good years into my past at the engagement party. Met the bride who was my BFF when I was five, because Barbies are friendship builders and she had quite a few. Met the guy after my dad reintroduced us for five seconds, then met him again after his tipsy dad re-reintroduced us. To commemorate the encounter, we had an awkward conversation and our picture taken. At the party, my family ran into the husband of my pre-kindergarten days babysitter. I was the flower girl for their wedding and spent many nights asleep at her place. So of course, we hightailed it to his house for a 15 year reunion. Seeing her teenage kids was an odd experience, especially when I told them that I knew their mom and dad before they were married.
That marks my foray into a time period I'd never think to revisit. Oh, and t-minus 15 minutes until I turn 24. Hooray???
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Some time travel please
I'm not looking forward to the following week. Sunday has me at an engagement party where my parents want me polished up so they can start on my own engagement. They've got high hopes for an old world hook-up between me and a friend of the family's son. I wonder if a dowry will be included and how many horses I'm worth. Please say ten.
Thursday is a trip to the dentist, who I abhor. I have nothing against the person, just their profession. My fear of going to the dentist is so bad that I will let you push me down a flight of stairs. I will let you slug me across the face or even gently hit me with a car.
Then my birthday on Saturday. Granted, I'm going to Disneyland, but still, I hate my birthday and hate the fact I'm turning 24. 23 was such a good number, not so much a good year, but a good number. When I hit 30, I think I might cry. Strike that and reverse it, 23 was a good year. I got a job, reconciled with an old friend and made a new one, and went to Europe.
Somebody just hit me with a bat right now and let me sleep till Saturday. Just wake me up so I can strap myself on at Space Mountain.
Thursday is a trip to the dentist, who I abhor. I have nothing against the person, just their profession. My fear of going to the dentist is so bad that I will let you push me down a flight of stairs. I will let you slug me across the face or even gently hit me with a car.
Then my birthday on Saturday. Granted, I'm going to Disneyland, but still, I hate my birthday and hate the fact I'm turning 24. 23 was such a good number, not so much a good year, but a good number. When I hit 30, I think I might cry. Strike that and reverse it, 23 was a good year. I got a job, reconciled with an old friend and made a new one, and went to Europe.
Somebody just hit me with a bat right now and let me sleep till Saturday. Just wake me up so I can strap myself on at Space Mountain.
Sunday, February 08, 2009
Comatose Joy
I love my friend Carlos who drags me from one random LA event to the next and if it weren't for him, I would probably become a recluse. Thursday night as I'm driving home, he calls me to go out for a drink, unwind, and just shake off the work day stress. But hanging out with him means I don't leave until after 10 and with the rain that day, I really didn't feel like it. "Come on, there'll be some cool DJs and just stay for one drink. I RSVP'd and can bring in two people for free, you and Phuong." Ugh ugh ugh. Guilt. "Ohhhhhh-kay. I'm just staying for a bit."
Hours later and we don't leave until 2am.
I hate you Diplo.
And by that, I mean, I love you so much I want to kidnap you so you can spin for me on the drop of a hat. Diplo is a DJ god and people can write off spinning as slipping one record on after another but that just means they've never been privy to such a good set. How good? I was ready to blow the place around 1am, jacket on, bag slung over one shoulder when that sweet note of a song came and I stayed rooted and dance till lights out. Then woke up for work 3 hour later. Hate you Diplo that I would do it all over again.
Oh, bought the Coachella tickets. Desert dance party is officially on now. Countdown, please. In the meanwhile, I'm applying for a semi-new job, very convinced that Fleet Foxes is this year's Bon Iver, and speed reading at a book a night. So far, I'm 3 for 4 nights. Not too shabby.
Hours later and we don't leave until 2am.
I hate you Diplo.
And by that, I mean, I love you so much I want to kidnap you so you can spin for me on the drop of a hat. Diplo is a DJ god and people can write off spinning as slipping one record on after another but that just means they've never been privy to such a good set. How good? I was ready to blow the place around 1am, jacket on, bag slung over one shoulder when that sweet note of a song came and I stayed rooted and dance till lights out. Then woke up for work 3 hour later. Hate you Diplo that I would do it all over again.
Oh, bought the Coachella tickets. Desert dance party is officially on now. Countdown, please. In the meanwhile, I'm applying for a semi-new job, very convinced that Fleet Foxes is this year's Bon Iver, and speed reading at a book a night. So far, I'm 3 for 4 nights. Not too shabby.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Desert dance party
I should have gone the last three years but didn't for whatever lame reason. This year, finances be damned. Foreign trips abroad be damned. And heat exhaustion be damned. Now to work the overtime to pay for this April's bite in my wallet.
So won't you come hang out with me in the dance tents and cry along to Leonard Cohen and Conor Oberst?
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Wanderlust
I want to live in the following cities for however long they hold my fancy: NYC, Tokyo, Saigon, Seoul, and Vienna. I've been to all sans for Tokyo but that can be easily remedied with the emptying of my bank account. They're all metropolis cities and I know that my life won't change even if the location will. Movies, meals, and concerts will most likely hold a reservation of one even across the globe. I'll still thread through crowds like a needle waiting to reach the fabric's end. I've got the travel bug bad that I dream of skyscrapers and walking down dusty roads cramped with houses and buildings. It's also self-satisfaction, really. Where is home and when will I find it?
I want to think that it's just more than a travel bug, that it's the universe telling me that I need to leave LA. That I am going to have major epic adventures in some foreign city and meet some of the most absolutely amazing people ever (even though I think I've met a good fair share already). But days like today where it's 82 degrees in January and girls are walking around in sun dresses and flip flop, I question the guidance of the universe. It so happens that aside from Saigon, those above listed cities are home to snowy days, which with my tiny physique and large mouth for complaints might equal to a lot of day huddled in mountain-thick blankets. Win some, lose some, my ass. And still, the Queen Mab of travel beckons me with her wayward whispers.
I want to think that it's just more than a travel bug, that it's the universe telling me that I need to leave LA. That I am going to have major epic adventures in some foreign city and meet some of the most absolutely amazing people ever (even though I think I've met a good fair share already). But days like today where it's 82 degrees in January and girls are walking around in sun dresses and flip flop, I question the guidance of the universe. It so happens that aside from Saigon, those above listed cities are home to snowy days, which with my tiny physique and large mouth for complaints might equal to a lot of day huddled in mountain-thick blankets. Win some, lose some, my ass. And still, the Queen Mab of travel beckons me with her wayward whispers.
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