Got this from Brad’s blog:
http://www.woostercollective.com/2005/03/wooster-exclusive-banksy-hits-new.html
This street artist snuck into major museums and hung up his own paintings. And they’re really great!
This one is so disturbing, I can’t stop looking at it:
The New Pope Sounds Like a Real Asshole.
On Monday, Ratzinger, who was the powerful dean of the College of Cardinals, used his homily at the Mass dedicated to electing the next pope to warn the faithful about tendencies that he considered dangers to the faith: sects, ideologies like Marxism, liberalism, atheism, agnosticism and relativism — the ideology that there are no absolute truths.
“Having a clear faith, based on the creed of the church, is often labeled today as a fundamentalism,” he said, speaking in Italian. “We are moving towards a dictatorship of relativism, which does not recognize anything as definitive and has as its highest value one’s own ego and one’s own desires.”
Yes, it’s better for people to be dictated on how to live according to antiquated moral laws rather than gaining a true spiritual understanding of why it serves an individual as well as a collective be be a good person. And also, all those “soft” religions are the ones that are killing each other to prove themselves superior in the name of God.
No, wait. It’s those crazy fundamentalists who only see things in black & white who can’t live and let live or be tolerant of the uniqueness and individuality of God’s creatures. Speaking of tolerance:
He also accused the media of fueling the priest sex abuse scandals of recent years. “I am personally convinced,” he one told an interviewer, “that the constant presence in the press of the sins of Catholic priests, especially in the U.S., is a planned campaign.”
And Sister Jeannine Gramick, a nun who he ordered to stop ministering to gays and lesbians in the United States, called his election “devastating” for those who believe the Catholic Church needs to be more tolerant.
OF COURSE it was a planned campaign! There’s a problem in the church and it needs to be addressed! You can’t repress a human being of his urges and thoughts and expect him not to have extreme psychological issues. They need to allow priests and nuns to have sex, to have familes, to be gay, if they so choose. They need to be allowed to be human as well as conduits of spirituality, and I’m sure they can do this while living respectable, pious lives. A kid who self-mutilates to gain the attention of and to show his commitment to his father doesn’t get more love; he gets sent to a mental institution. This whole punishment to prove commitment makes no sense anymore. Wouldn’t being a true servant of God entail living a good life and leading others to do so as well? Wouldn’t the first step be to allow one to be human and experience the trials and tribulations as well as the beauty and comfort of being close to those you love? I know many preachers who are amazing people, leaders in their community, amazing mothers and fathers who lead by example. They are counselors to the community and leaders. They are well-adjusted human beings who can empathize as well as love and be loved. Doesn’t this just make more sense?
And it wrenches me up inside to know this is a step backwards for the gay community.
The theme of spirituality is unity and reunification. Unification between a child and a mother, a man and his community, a community and its father. Reunification of the body with the earth upon death, of the spirit with God upon resurrection. When we humans build hierarchies, we are building our own human Tower of Babel with our misguided leaders at the top. In that story, God didn’t want people to stay in the same place and build this tower to heaven, so he made them speak different langauges and they scattered. And as people slowly come together through the centuries, they learn to understand each other again despite different languages, and bring together their different understandings of God.
We all scatter upon birth but as we grow older and seek out communities, we share our different life experiences and life perspectives to understand what it is to be human, and what it is that we believe in. This is the natural order of things and the way things work. You give human beings space to be, and they will find their own path through life’s trials in order to reach the same destination.
The church is always trying to force things down people’s throats. The problem is that so much of the Bible and religious doctrine have been used to manipulate people for political means and in the end, so much has been lost. Antiquated moral laws no longer have any relevance and the people need a leader not a tyrant father. Good things happen under gentle but firm leadership, not sadistic and rigid domination. This is the basic tenant of good parenting.
And when we have someone who’s saying, let’s go back to making things black & white and telling people what they have to do and what they have to be, it leaves people with no room to grow and find their own ways back to their connection with God and the collective soul.
Pink Dresses, Inebriated Asians and the Middle-Aged Businessmen Who Love Them
Dear Diary,
My boss’s wedding was today and it was a Pink Wedding, so everyone had to wear some form of pink. I’d been putting off buying a dress for a while since I hate malls and I really don’t like the idea of me being in pink, so I’ve been avoiding it. Coming upon the 11th hour, I figured that the wedding was at 6pm, so I had plenty of hours to hit a mall and find something pink. I vowed to get up early enough to go to the gym and still hit the malls as soon as they opened. I got up at 10, went to the gym for 2 hours, then managed to make it to the mall…perfectly on schedule if the mall opened at 2pm. I describe the next 3 hours as pure pink hell, as I went into mall-lit after mall-scented store, my eyes zoning in on anything pink. I was like a shark. A big gay, Persian shark locked into anything hot pink, sequined and gaudy.
I went through every store at the mall and couldn’t find a pink dress that wasn’t extremely ruffled, fashion-senseless or a prom dress. Then again, I believe those first two traits are redundant. Finally, I settled for a pink top and white slacks. I was really hoping to find a dress since I prefer dresses when going to events and I wear pant suits to work a lot so showing up in a dress would really help my cause in negating the office teasing that I’m a lesbian.
Tonight, I realized why weddings and more blatantly, wedding receptions, are such strange but truth-revealing events. People show up to celebrate the beginning of a journey, the peak moment when two people are completely in love with each other and are so happy to be alive. In the face of this, I think the people who want to reach that place of optimism and happiness become aware of wanting it, while the people who have been disappointed by love or miss the excitement and optimism of new love wish to regain it. Thus, why people always flirt with each other and hook up with each other at weddings. These are some random things I observed or thought of tonight:
The wedding was a Jewish wedding. There was a pre-reception because these things start really late. I didn’t really know anyone and most of my coworkers hadn’t shown up yet, so I just stood at a table by myself and people watched. This rough-looking guy in his 40’s asked if he could share my table. He had an earring and cold, penetrating blue eyes, and looked like your average cocky white American middle-classed male who was divorced and bitter at his bitch ex-wife who had taken the kids and overall, fucked up his life.
I had him pegged for a car salesman.
He turned out to be a private investigator so my evaluation of him wasn’t too far off. He fished around into my life and I wouldn’t give him much. He mentioned that he had kids, was divorced, then ask me if I’d ever been married. I knew he was digging for my social status and PERD (Psychological/Emotional Relationship Damage, aka Baggage, aka Potential to Fuck Someone Due to Low Self Esteem) so, feeling a bit sadistic and knowing that I could run mental laps around this guy, I went into my spiel about how a marriage is basically a legal and religious convention, but if one were not religious, then basically a marriage is the forming of a corporation where resources are shared and a commitment is made to accept responsibility of taking care of each other’s livelihood. Because what is really so different between a long-term committed relationship and a marriage, if the emotional bond and responsibility towards one another’s emotional well-being are the same? It’s mostly about a commitment to resources and contributing to them and sharing them.
My coworker finally comes over and gets me out of the conversation by introducing me to the owners of our sister company in Dallas. I’m meeting them for the first time and I’m surprised because I’m always talking to one of the guys on the phone or over email, and I always envisioned the guy as older, probably really fat and bald or with light color/gray hair. Because he always sounded so Texas-jolly on the phone. But he was young with thick, dark brown hair and I just couldn’t get over how he didn’t look anything like I’d expected.
You know how sometimes you meet someone for the first time and there are just sparks? Not necessarily the romantic/sexual kind, like when you look at someone from across the room and you get butterflies in your stomach. It’s just an opening, where both of you are curious about the other person. I’ve found out that, as a Gemini, I will get really flirty when I’m intrigued by having a new person to explore, and will flirt to get them to open up so I can see inside of them. That attention and flirtation can turn on and off like a faucet, depending on how interesting the things that I find are. It’s not really conscious, but kind of built into my constant craving to get into people’s heads and understand where different people come from and how they experience life.
I was really happy to finally meet him and I gushed that he was supposed to call me whenever he made it out so we could shoot baskets (I’d never mentioned any such thing). We chatted about life in Texas versus California. His business partner was really serious, an intriguing nut to crack. Every time I asked about cities in Texas, he would describe their topography.
The wedding was beautiful. I cried because I cry at weddings. But the feeling is strange. On the one hand, I’m so happy for the people getting married because I can feel how happy they are. But then there really is a sadness that tinges it, almost a feeling of me missing something that I lost a long time ago as a child. I couldn’t figure this feeling out.
I think that when you really believe in someone so much, when you really believe in a partnership that feels safe, your whole world suddenly has incredible meaning, if only just to stay alive long enough to experience another day with this person. I was watching the wedding and feeling so happy for my boss and his new wife, and I realized just how much I love people. How much it means to me when people are happy and comfortable and feel safe and loved. How I worry about being socially appropriate because I want everyone to feel connected to this world and safe so much, that I wish that giving them unconditional love and positive regard and by sending in good energy will make a difference. But then sometimes people respond with this unhealthy clingy neediness, the death grasp of a drowning person taking his rescuer down to share a watery grave. The more you give, the more these type of people demand you to heal their wounds rather than using the strength gained from being supported and believed in to find that place where they can attain contentment. Maybe one day I’ll find a place that will make me happy and feel safe myself, where I’ll feel that I can give and not feel like the people who try to get close to me are people who will inadvertently drown me.
I was supposed to be at a table where I didn’t know anyone but I switched over to the table with all of my coworkers. My aunt and uncle where there. I felt bad because I had debated for weeks whether I should invite Reggie to the wedding but the biggest issue was that my aunt and uncle would be there and they would treat my being there with a black man as a huge scandal and family disgrace. I figured that if I ever told my family anything, I would want my mom to hear it from me first and judge this on its own merits, rather than to find out about it through the grapevine where all information is twisted by judgmental minds into an insult to the family name. So I went solo and during the whole ceremony, I really wished he were there, but then afterwards, I was glad that he wasn’t because I did a lot of people-watching and got really introverted thinking about my life, who I am, and what are the things I want.
I think the place where I put the things that I love is the place where no one
would ever know about them. I keep them a secret. I tend to be secretive about my relationships and even my friendships. Not just the details of them, but even in terms of who these people are. The more I care about someone, the more likely I keep things hidden, almost because I’m so afraid that when something I care about is held up in the light of day, it’ll turn out to be all smoke and mirrors, and then I’ll have to deal with the disappointment and disillusionment. Or that other people will disparage what I believe in or try to destroy it. The beauty of what goes on privately between two people is magical…like the things people experience alone in the woods in the dead of the night. And when the sun comes up, things are different. The magic is gone and it leaves you wondering if it was ever there in the first place. I don’t think it matters whether or not it even existed or if it doesn’t hold up in the light of day. If it means something to me, I want to keep it protected, safe in a place deep inside me where no one even knows there’s something valuable to destroy.
My aunt said to me, you need to settle down by the time you’re 29. I rolled my eyes and she said, no seriously. I have a friend who’s 34 and the only types of guys she can get are divorced or widowed men, and then it’s a family disgrace. She made it sound like these men were the ass bottom of the barrel. I told her that statistically, second marriages tend to be the strongest and also, sometimes people need life experience to grow and fulfill their potential as human beings, so having gone through a marriage and learned from it makes them better partners. She looked at me and just repeated, trust me, get married by 29 because otherwise, when you’re left with used people, you lose face.
Seems kind of small-minded, doesn’t it? When, just because someone is “used” and has been through a marriage that didn’t work out, that you should be ashamed of dating them. Thank you for letting me know. For future reference and for the sake of my face, please fax me a list of all the types of people I should avoid or else suffer the loss of face. I’m assuming the list includes: Divorcees, Otherwise Previously Married, Non-college grad, non-steady income, Black, Mexican, Vietnamese, non-age appropriate, comes from a low-income background, has working class family, is of the same sex, is not a filial lump of homo-ethnic being that can be manipulated in the name of tradition.
I would also like to point out that my aunt is really gossipy and makes judgments about what’s right and not right as far as what other people will think. It seems like she’s just really insecure about what other people think of her. I was listening to her speak to someone and realized her English wasn’t very good, even though she’s been in the US about as long as my mom who’s good enough to give speeches. I thought maybe she wasn’t intelligent enough to fully grasp English, or more likely, that she had an aversion to picking up the language, wanting to cling to all that embodies being Chinese, including not becoming too Americanized. But I can tell that when she converses with people in English, she’s uncomfortable because it’s easy to hold this elitist position in her own head, but once she’s in a position where her subpar speaking abilities can be revealed, she feels insecure.
I think putting insecure people in positions of power is a dangerous thing to do. Insecure people tend to have control issues, which means their mistaken ideas can influence groups into embracing a nonsensical status quo.
There was a fat guy at the next table who kept slipping glances at my chest.
There was an old guy with a camera who kept flirting with Eddie’s girlfriend, who looks like a model. He kept coming over to talk to her like he was approaching a celebrity seated at a restaurant.
My boss’s little girl cried. He sat down with me at one point and mentioned that she was having a hard time. I told him it was because he’s a great dad. She’s felt so safe and happy with him, that she’s afraid that that goodness will go away when things change, so he has to just make her feel safe and over time, she’ll feel better. But to be honest, things will change because he’s going to have to give some of himself to his wife and his daughter is going to have to share him. The little girl just got too much of a good thing–getting her dad all to herself for a while and now she’s going to lose some of it, even though it doesn’t knock her down from being #1 in his life. It’s a tough situation, really, and it made me a little bit sad, because the girl was sad and my boss was sad.
I saw my boss get some dessert and automatically bring it to his wife. It made me smile inside because he’s such a thoughtful guy (like a sweet little boy), and he’s so in love with her. I want someone who feels that way about me.
I realized one of my coworker is in love with another one but he doesn’t know it. He can’t classify the feeling but I know what he sees–the electricity between them. They argue like cats in an alley, complete with hissing and claws and even as a bystander, I can tell how potent that mix can be. Read…great sex. He wants her and he wants her bad. She drives him crazy and it’s stirring him up. So I told him…I know your secret. You should just go for it. He first said he doesn’t date people from work, then said they’d have to lock up the office because they’d always be at it. He tried to give me excuses but I just kept saying, you know you want to. Later, I noticed him leading her out and her being flirty irritated but she was going along with him. He looked back, saw me looking, and winked. They were gone for a while and I asked her where they went when she came back. She rolled her eyes and mumbled something about, “Oh…far away…pshhht. ” Then she added, “He took me around and around, looking for fruit or something.” Fruit. Uh huh. Now, keep in mind she’s also Israeli and doesn’t speak great English. But even in broken English, it sounded like bullshit to me.
I was standing by that owner of our sister company and we were all talking to some of my coworkers, and then he kept bumping me playfully. I asked him why he wasn’t dancing. He said he was but felt awkward out there. I asked him why Serious Guy didn’t dance. Serious Guy said he didn’t, not because he couldn’t but because he didn’t. Not-Serious-Guy asked me to dance and I said no. He said I looked really nice and he wanted to dance. I was tempted by the idea that this guy was a major business associate and I’m sure that with my willingness and a little encouragement, things could turn out scandalous tonight, but I try to live responsibly, even as delicious as the idea of scandal is. So he asked me again to dance and I told him that Serious Guy had to dance too. We we dragged him onto the floor. We danced for a bit and at the end of the song, I said I had to get some water, got distracted, then wandered off. I saw them later as they were leaving. I know it was kind of shitty of me to leave them on the dance floor like that but I wasn’t going to tempt that devil on my shoulder that wants to flirt irresponsibly and create situations that are messy. I have a good feeling that if I weren’t so staunchly disciplined about repressing things and could travel around the country and be in environments where no one knew who I was and there was no emotional accountability, I would be uncontainable. I would be having a lot of sex. I would have at some point been best friends or worst enemies with everyone for short bursts of time. I’m so intrigued by exploring people and the things behind closed doors that they don’t share with the rest of the world in broad daylight. Their secrets. It’s such an obsession for me that without boundaries, I would go wherever those feelings and impulses went, as far as they went, just to squelch that craving for different experiences. Intimacy junkie. I’m a pure intimacy junkie. But I shun emotional responsibility.
I went to take one of those Listerine Stri
ps but pulled out my Chloraseptic Strips for sore throats by accident. They come in the same packaging except the latter is orange. I never noticed what the physical effects are, but it numbs your tongue and throat, like a mild analgesic. It’s kind of freaky if you think too much about it.
I was watching people at the wedding, talking and dancing, and I just feel like such an outsider. Sometimes I feel really socially awkward and like I’m not experiencing life like other people, that I wasn’t born right. That I’m not as integrated into this plane as other people, like everyone is asleep but I’m not fully, so that rather than dreaming the same beautiful and complicated and tragic landscapes along with people, I can see people as they dream, and are aware that what they’re doing is dreaming and I don’t get to see what they’re seeing. And I’m left out of this romantic experience of just being human and sharing the same visions of life.
To be honest, I left the wedding overwhelmed by my loneliness. Sometimes I see too much, get too deep into people and I wish there were someone I could talk to about how to handle all the impressions I get, the images and the feelings. Sometimes I wish the night lasted forever and we could all lay down our costumes and masks and the roles we play, and just be ourselves under the cover of night. Sometimes I think playing a human being is a hard job because you can’t just exist, unencumbered by contrivance. Every situation demands a different set of social protocol. No one gets to behave “as is” in the light of day. We lose the fluidity and truthfulness of just being.
I called Reggie and tried to explain why I was sad. I could tell he had no idea what I was talking about. And that made me even more sad. So I told him I was feeling down and didn’t feel like hanging out. I just wanted some time alone to think about life and who I am and what I want.
Why does there exist within me, a cold, logical robot as well as an amorphous emotional being? Why is it so hard to be a human being? When I went in to have Lasik on my eyes, there were complications so it took a long time. They had put anesthetic drops on my eyes, but after everything was said and done, they reapplied the anesthetic on my left eye and operated, then FORGOT to reapply it on my right and operated. I felt the laser slice into me and it was like a slow paper cut on my eyeball, but I didn’t say anything because you’re not supposed to move. It only last a few minutes, but they basically operated on my eye without anesthesia. Sometimes I feel like that’s my experience of life. I don’t go through it numb enough. There’s too much awareness, of things I don’t even need to be aware of. All that’s inevitable…everything gained will eventually be lost. All that we have is borrowed and never owned. Our lifetime is a loan, blessed upon us to gain experience. The people in our lives, our youth, our beauty, our wealth, we give it all up someday, and death is the great equalizer when it’s time to give up our borrowed time and human identities. And there’s such an urgency to be real and for us to understand the very power we have when we are all connected and real, but we’re standing on a stage so it’s hard not to fall into acting within this play that has yet to conclude. Everything is ephemeral and things have to always be in motion but on the outside, there’s one connecting line that runs through every single person and being in existence, and we just get so caught up that we forget that there’s a bigger story beyond pages measured out by single human lifetimes. But to survive in a world built by humans, which plane do we choose to live in?
Interview with a Porn Star
So I’m at work doing my usual random searching, when a Craig’s List ad under the Platonic section about being an imprisoned Porn Star’s pen pal led me to search the web out of curiosity regarding why he was imprisoned. Somehow, half an hour later, I stumbled upon this interview with a female porn star named Mila. All I know is either she’s a Porn PR machine, saying just the right nasty things that lonely middle-aged virgins with potbellies and clammy hands want to hear, or she’s flat-out disgusting.
Here was an excerpt that makes me want to throw my brain into the dishwasher:
(A= Interviewer, M= This Nasty Ass Bitch, B= Her Manager)
A: Ever have any sexual partners that couldn’t handle what you were doing?
M: Well yeah, of course. I mean, some women don’t like being fisted in their asses, but I do.
A: I mean, anyone ever just go “Fuck! Stop!! I can’t take it” and just get up and leave?
M: Not like that, because that wouldn’t be professional. Instead of just getting up and leaving, they sit there with my foot up their ass and start crying. After I get my elbow out of their pussy they are usually a little better off and they relax a bit.
[I don’t know whether to laugh or cry]
A: Considering all the stuff you’ve had up your ass, do you find that having a bowel movement comes easier?
B: Dude… she was swimming in my pool the other day… when she dove in the pool, she dropped her day planner from her ass. It was from 1979. She thought it was lost forever!
M: No, my bowel movements are normal just like everyone else. Only difference is some of the things I find from like last week.
B: Speaking of bowel movements, we need to cut out that pop where the new girl accidentally dripped poop on your face.
M: That bitch shit in my mouth! I almost kicked her ass down the street!
B: It was an accident.
A: I need to hear details about this one…
B: She never heard of an enema. She’s Russian, fresh off the train.
A: It actually went IN your mouth?
M: Right in my mouth! I was like “Noooo!” and then next thing I know, I’m pinned down by Dave fuckin’ Hardman and a clump of shit and cum is smacking my face!
B: She did her first dp, and did not prepare. So, we had a mess, and the Queen took it like a champ.
M: The cum was okay, but the shit… well, you know I have to draw the line there.
*****
The moral of the story? At least there’s a line, kids. At least there’s a line…
These provided me hours of Mirth…
I was just reading a show recap of Oprah about Wives Who Don’t Want Sex. Don’t ask. I like how they talk about how this is a problem that ruins marriages and lives. Your whole life will be ruined because you lose your sex drive, even more so than by hitting a kid with a car, by letting your baby drown in the bathtub or by shooting a cashier in the face in the middle of an armed robbery. I hate how the media tries to freak people out. I did like how the site mentions how current society makes sex almost a strictly physical thing, with the widespread promotion of things like Viagra. It’s another way that Western Medicine misses the point and only deals with surface issues.
So what is sex and does it change over the course of a person’s life? I don’t mean the maturity swing where one settles in and prefers a steady, monogamous partner versus casual sex with strangers. I mean, how you view it and your relationship to the connection, another person and yourself.
Can it be, the more content you are, the less you want? Sex reminds me of how ephemeral things are. You have a spiritual connection with someone, it transcends time, space and boundaries. You have sex with someone, it escalates to a desired peak and then it’s gone, and you are left thinking, “I was so caught up with chasing something, I totally lost track of the present. And it all seems a bit…disappointing when you come back and look at it.” Does closeness only come by way of sex? I feel like sex shows me why it’s not the answer to intimacy. You sleep with someone and afterwards, it’s the emotional/spiritual bond that brings the feeling of closeness, not having done an act that leads directly to it. It’s like people who think that once they’ve made a lot of money, they’ll be fulfilled, but when they’ve finally amassed a fortune, they realize they still feel the same and have to find other, deeper ways to attain personal fulfillment. I’m usually disappointed with sex in terms of looking for what I love, deep intimacy, connection and spiritual closeness. My disappointment is no fault of my partner, but I think the ideal partner has to approach intimacy the same way, and to also value the same type of deep spiritual connection that I desire and need.
I think one night stands are fine for physical exploration. But if I’m looking for a relationship, then sex loses its importance and appeal to me because I’m looking for something that transcends sex, a greater high, so by searching for it through sex is disappointing and blatantly unfulfilling. It actually has the power to make me unhappy in a relationship. Or perhaps it’s not sex itself, but the type of sex it is. It’s almost like having a conversation–if you’re talking with someone who doesn’t “get” you, your ideas where you come from, so that you find yourself having very surface conversations, you are kind of aware of how unfulfilling the conversation is. It’s probably not a big deal because it’s just a conversation and there are probably other people you can go for stimulating conversation at a level that fulfills you.
But in a monogamous relationship, you only get to sleep with one person. If each person looks for something different out of sex, ie one person looks for spiritual connection while another looks for physical pleasure, it’s like having a conversation where two people are talking to each other, connecting to some degree, but not to the degree where both are on the same page and getting what they need out of it. And you can’t go and say, I sleep with different people and get something different out of each relationship so overall, I have my needs met. Therefore, that one person has to fulfill you in the way that you need, otherwise, perhaps this person isn’t a good match for you.
So often it’s not about good or bad people. It’s just about needs and compatibility. When I cast a project, I see a lot of amazing actors and actresses and I wish I could use them. But sometimes it’s about the right look, about how well they fit into that role, if they slip into it like a second skin, a second soul.
Isn’t that process how we find a partner though? We audition people for a role we have in mind where we have an idea of who the character is, and then we see how well they “fit” into that role where we can truly see them as an integrated component in our universe? It’s about believing, where we can believe that this piece of the puzzle was always part of the puzzle all along, even if it wasn’t always in the box. I don’t think things always fit perfectly with people and you work at it, but I feel like the underlying feeling, is that no matter what, you can still believe that this “actor” IS truly the character who owns this role.
Or maybe it all comes down to fear. And how the hell do we untangle that big ball of enormous emotional mess if we can’t even figure out if it has a beginning or an end?
This Is Why I Don’t Tell You Where To Find My Brother’s Blog:
If Julia got her 2005 Infiniti FX35 she would first drive it to Fremont,CA to show us. We will be the first ones to ride in it. The CDS she would put in her cd changer are New Radicals, Rem, David Gray, Sting, Jet and Boyzone. She will play it on the Bose music system. I think we will love it.
*****
Boyzone?!? That is RECKLESS reporting, boy!
[ps–remember when I told you guys Michael likes to copy me? He tried to set up a blog for my mom. The address? www.jhchunderass.blogspot.com]
I can’t stop!
Another reason why brunettes rule…
One night, we were listening to KCRW and we heard this song…
And today, I’ve found the video that goes with it.
“It puts the lotion in the basket…”
Stupid White People
http://www.kontraband.com/show/show.asp?ID=1113&rtn=main-topten
Of course. If Springer can do it, then why not Jeffre?
Weekend Recap
So Michael went home yesterday and I was very sad.
It’s incredibly exhausting to have him here (10 days this time) because he needs a lot of attention in that he’s always talking to me. He’ll follow me around the house about a foot behind me, usually running into me if I stop too suddenly, and he’ll be telling me all about cars he wants, the MSRP’s, the options, where the dealers are located, what the gas mileage is, etc. Keep in mind, this is the same conversation that happens over and over and over throughout the entire day, every day. I’ll be going from room to room picking things up and he’ll follow right behind me from room to room, not missing a beat with his spiel. Sometimes, I’ll pick up the phone and pretend I’m calling 911 and I’ll say, “911? There is a strange, Asian man following me around…”
And then Michael will laugh and say, “Julia…” and then continue on about whether Bose is a standard stereo system in that particular car.
And then when Michael is gone, it’s so quiet and the house feels empty. :(
On Saturday we had a yard sale by Rebecca’s house. We discovered that 80% of people who showed up were driving minivans.
It’s funny how you can be selling something for $1, like a DVD for example, and people will still try to bargain you down to 50 cents. Kate had brought donuts and we had a lot left, so we decided to put up a sign saying donuts for sale for 25 cents. With the way yard-sale bargaining worked, I was surprised nobody suggested that we pay them to take a donut.
I took Michael to the psycho-hypnotist in the afternoon. He wanted to work on anger management so she runs through the evaluation then puts him under. She let me watch and it was really cool because I saw him go under. She suggested to him that he wouldn’t throw tantrums anymore because he would remember that he’s a controlled, powerful man who would be able to successfully negotiate things whenever someone told him “No,” rather than get angry. So she gives him suggestions for 15 minutes about anger control and staying calm, and when he comes out he says he feels good and he thinks it was going to work. So I pay her the $125 session fee, and we leave. Michael says, “Julia, let’s practice. Can I come visit you in LA? You say no.” So I say, “No.” He shrugs and cheerfully says, “Okay! See? It worked!”
So we get outside and he asks me if I can go to Panda Express which is down the street. I say no because it’s not healthy. He looks at me like I’m joking and I say, we just went and bought groceries. I’ll go home and make us sandwiches. So he says he wants to go to Panda Express and I say no, and then he raises his fist to threaten me. Keep in mind, we’re still standing on the sidewalk outside the doctor’s office where I just spent a hundred and twenty-five dollars. So I guess that didn’t work.
No one informed me about daylight savings time. I showed up for an appt on Sunday exactly an hour late. Okay, an hour and 10 minutes late.
I’ve been having an aversion to blogging about what’s on the news. I figure you all already know what’s going on every day since media is everywhere. Why have it on my blog as well.
I made a variation of quiche on Saturday night. Had an assist from lengli (who also provided this awesome link of rap lyrics translated). It was somewhat like an Argentinian Tortilla de Papa.
I took two large potatoes and peeled them, then cut them into thin strips, about the thickness of McDonald’s french fries but half their length. I poured olive oil over them and made sure they were evenly covered. I browned them in a pan with rosemary, thyme, savory, basil, oregano and salt and pepper, leaving the cover on. In the last 5 minutes, I threw in half an onion (chopped into thin slivers) cooking them under the cover with the potatoes to soften them and to take off their edge. When they were soft, I lined the bottom of a baking dish with the potatoes and onions.
For the filling, I mixed 5 egg white whites with 5 whole eggs, along with 1 1/2 cups of skim milk, 3/4 cups of shredded cheddar, 3/4 cups of mozzarella, 3/4 cups of diced turkey breast (lunch meat), 2 stems of asparagus sliced into thin disks, 1/2 cup of finely chopped green onions, a little bit of fresh basil (cut into thin strips) and a dash of garlic powder.
I beat this mixture with a whisk until it was frothy, then poured it over the potatoes. I baked it for 40 minutes at 350.
It came out quite tasty. We finished off the meal with some Dreyer’s Samoa Grand Light ice cream, based on the Girl Scout Cookie.
I wanted to watch So I Married an Axe Murderer after the movie since I got that Phil Hartman line in my head about being called Vicki (also courtesy of lengli) but we opted for Zoolander instead. I was so happy when they finally saved the Prime Rib of Propecia.
I’m finding that I’m starting to formulate my sentences like Michael. And last but not least, I should probably get to work at 9:37AM April 4th, 2005.
It’s a Beautiful Day
I’ve just spent the last half hour laughing until I had tears rolling down my face.
Michael now has a blog.
I’m extremely protective of him so I’m not quite ready to reveal his address yet, but it’s awesome.
A hint about its title though…
Michael has always liked to follow in my footsteps. I played softball growing up. He aspired to play softball. I played a video game signed in as Julia the Shit. He signed in as Michael the Jerk.
Well, yesterday, I was setting up his blog for him and I asked him what he wanted to name it. He knew that mine is called Car Alarms Are Really Sensitive, so let’s just say that car alarms are really sensitive because cars are really delicate.
Here’s my favorite post of his so far:
Working at a Car Wash place and places I work at
If I ever got offered a job at “Prowash” I would take it. I love to help out to do the codes. And I have done them in the past before I hurt my hand. I can even help to tell every driver what to do. I always wanted a job like that. I would like to work Part-Time. I am currently working at a big firm office called “Mckinsey and Company ” every Tuesdays and Thursdays and stock sodas, juices,waters, upstairs and downstairs. And I do filing and copying. I also work at “The New Orient Restaurant” every Saturday of each week. I work at Mckinsey and Company for a full 2hrs and I also work at The New Orient Restaurant for an hour.
And I also work at The New Orient Restraunt 1hr every Saturday of each week. I count up checks, take orders and help bring the food out to the customers. I can definitely work at the Prowash in Fremont,CA by 680 south. I want to work after school is over. I will be graduating Tuesday June 20, 2006. I am good at doing everything. I will work after Tuesday, June 20, 2006. That is when I am out of school. I will be on time everyday to work. And last but not least I am ready to work any day of the week, except on holidays.
Today I had a rough day. Something is bothering me but I’m not exactly sure what. On the surface it was fine. I enjoy stress, actually. It’s a guilty pleasure.
Then there’s the old one working at the mall. The new one…whoever the hell he is. A work environment that occasionally feels hostile, occasionally feels at home, I can’t commit to either. Some days I don’t know whether to laugh or cry but it’s a delicious feeling when you find the perfect balance between both, a bittersweet edge that feels as satisfying as watching a skateboarder screetch across a rail with a trail of flying sparks.
I was reunited with an old professional acquaintance today (but is it really professional when they’re touching you?) and he seemed sad. Sad to hear I was busy and sad that he wasn’t because business hadn’t been so great. I think we are humbled by people from our past who step back into our lives, because they are the only ones who can really evaluate us by comparing us to who we were.
I don’t know. I don’t know if I was different. I haven’t been back there in so long. Maybe something changed in me, or maybe I’ve always been this way and I’m now coming to terms with it. I just don’t want you coming any closer.
Human beings have always been fascinated with the notion of a “message in a bottle.” These cryptic messages pose a mystery about an unknown place and person…an entire foreign world that the finder’s imagination tries to will into existence by materialising it on the same plane or frequency as his or her reality.
I would love to some day be artistically involved in a project that allowed me to see different modern-day depictions of robots. I think that’s one reason I like sf brian’s drawings so much. I’ve got such a thing for robots. But I guess it’s an Asian thing, huh?
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