Your Duty Today....

... Don't be a jerk, be nice to birds, people and everything else.

*Currently in silence, about to head out*

All You Need Is L♥ve

Hey, I'm feeling dreamy...

What I Want.

I want to pay off all my debt. By the end of the year. I'm working on it. It'll be. It's not much. But I want it gone. Life has been good to me, people have been good to me. I want it all on a clean slate. I want to be able to give back.

I want to tell my sister she can go back to school and I'll support her financially. I want to pay off my friends' student loans. They don't need to think about that, they're ridiculously talented, that's all they should do, create art.

I don't care for diamonds or very fast cars. That's a lie, scratch that, I would love a Lotus Elise. I don't care for diamonds. I don't want jewelry, I don't want a mansion or servants. I do need greens, many dollars, although dollars are not green anymore... I have an expensive lifestyle. I like to eat out (really good food), I like to travel (there's a plan for Europe, Africa, Cuba, Chile), I like concerts and shoes and art. I like YOU. For that, I need no greens at all. Oh and throw in a Vespa, how cute would I look in a mint green Vespa?

I want a house by the beach, nothing crazy, something easy to maintain and spacious enough for Amara to roam around and stretch. I want a tiny little studio apartment in Manhattan. I want a condo in San Andres. I want a boutique with the hottest fashion trends, established by me. I want to own a cafe, my very special recipes served in a 'chic-little-kitchen' atmosphere... I'll be a good boss. I know it.

I want the time and funds to create wonderful events to support local artists and give back to the world. I want to be a part of making this place a better place. I want to be a volunteer without worrying about the time that could have been used for work.

I don't want children. I don't think I will be a good mother. I want a life partner, not a husband.

I want you to be happy, as happy as I am. Even more.

*Currently listening to my phone vibrate and ring, incoming text message*

Now, replace her straight strands with curls and the dog for Amara.

La Tierra Del Olvido

Como la luna que alumbra
por la noche los caminos
como las hojas al viento
como el sol espanta al frío
como la tierra a la lluvia
como el mar espera al río
asi espero tu regreso
a la tierra del olvido

Como naufragan mis miedos
si navego en tu mirada
como alertas mis sentidos
con tu voz enamorada
con tu sonrisa del niña
como me mueves el alma
como me quitas el sueño
como me robas la calma

Tu tienes la llave de mi corazón
yo te quiero
mas que a mi vida porque sin tu amor
yo me muero

- Carlos Vives (Ivan Benavides)

*Península de La Guajira, Colombia. - El Paraiso.

Warrior of the Light

A Warrior of the Light is never in a hurry.

Time works in his favor; he learns to master his impatience and avoids acting without thinking.

By walking slowly, he becomes aware of the firmness of his step. He knows that he is taking part in a decisive moment in the history of humanity and that he needs to change himself before he can transform the world. That is why he remembers the words of Lanza del Vasto: 'A revolution takes time to settle in."

A Warrior never picks fruit while it is still green.

- Paulo Coelho (Warrior of the Light, page 40)

And now I take off, in a hurry... I'm the Warrior-in-training of Friday night!

*Currently listening to Thriller, Michael Jackson (they wont stop playing him in this house)*

What's Your Price?

Everybody's got a price, what's yours?

So lets see... Would you eat a rotten egg for $10? Probably not. Would you do it for for $100? Maybe. How about $1000? Yeah, I know you're thinking about it... This is basic 'take what you can get' mathematics. You need something, you may be offered a possibility, you have a price. Of course there are morally limiting factors. I wouldn't commit murder for a price, I may do it for another person's life. If I had to.

R.I.P. Michael Jackson - I heard someone saying that the insanity surrounding the last couple of decades of his life were merely a publicity stunt. If so, wow, what a price to pay! Then somebody else referred to him as an Omega, not the Alpha, but a demure, low-key, barely noticeable figure. This person also argues that what we'll see is that soon enough, all the bad will be forgotten and the media will go back to exemplify his first years of stardom.

I will not forget a thing. And in the great words of James Dewhirst when I asked him if he'd heard the news: "I heard, all the little boys in the world will sleep peacefully now". Amen to that!

Okay my little sweetlings... I'm of to see Lucha - VaVoom!!!

*Currently listening to 1 2 3 4, Feist - Gosh I ♥ Feist*

Iran, Zombies & Shoes

People must stop asking me what I think of Iran. Seriously? Let me list the reasons why:

1. How am I supposed to know what's going on in Iran when nobody really, REALLY, does?
2. How am I supposed to know what's going on in Iran when I seldom know what's going on in the U.S.?
3. How am I supposed to know what's going on in Iran when I seldom know what's going on in MY head?

Seriously. Please.

Kevin's pitch sounds kinda' cool to me, he says: 'I think Iranians need to start doing Flash Mob Protests. I think the government would have no idea what to do if 15,000 people suddenly showed up at Azadi Tower done up as Zombies (and they could hopefully shuffle away before getting shot). If they did get shot...well, they're already dressed as zombies, which would make for some really bizarre Romeroesque video.' -Only Kevin ☺ (yes, that's a happy face).

Okay, now what I really think about Iran: Nothing. We have to wait and see. The world is watching.

R.C.: Don't forget to get 2 of each, in EVERY SINGLE color. Contrary to what anyone might have told you, cows DO like being milked. Also, it is the morally correct thing to do, yes, it is. Morality and Connectedness is shit when coming from the common person. You and I are not common, we define IT honey. Go crazy!

*Currently listening to Such Great Heights, Postal Service*

Crazy Town & Las Vegas.

I have a friend. I can't really say he's my friend, we barely know each other. But I would like to get to know him better someday, he's sort of special, not as in 'special education special', more like interesting and very odd special. His mind works in crazy ways. Good crazy. More like intellectually profound crazy... You know? Like some used to think Einstein was insane... I once heard that genius was a step away from crazy... Maybe he is crazy, sometimes I wonder...

So, last week, when Summer and I were in Las Vegas, at one point we sat at a bar and a man sat next to me. He said I had nice legs, he asked if he could give me a lot of money for me to go have sex with him, at that point Summer said: 'You're very inappropriate, she is my lesbian lover, you should leave now'. Summer rocks, I still need to learn how to say no, but at least I didn't say yes and that's what counts, right?

*currently listening to Af607105, Charlotte Gainsbourg*

Not Here, Please.

Yesterday, as I drove down Barham, into Cahuenga, I realized that one of the reasons why I have never considered living in Hollywood is because of all the traffic and noise. When I'm at R.C.'s I can't hear a thing, same as at R's, but I wonder if I'd miss the simplicity of a quieter city, one located at easy access to my favorite places. Do I really stand on the right place?

Ideally, I would like to live by the Beach. A friend just moved and he showed me a picture of the a beach sunset, he took it from his phone, from his front door. Envy here. Mad envy.

I want the sea-breeze and the splash of waves.

Then, I'd be too far from the places a go to most frequently. I guess nothing's really far in L.A., but 10 minutes is quite different from 25.

Someone said: 'You live where? I thought you were a Santa Monica girl!'.

Yes... Perhaps that would be a better place for me.

*currently listening to Oasis, Amanda Palmer*

When The Cool...

Peeps you know, actually do something good on YouTube, you get this:



Go Cheeks, Go (darling)!

And It Happens Again...

Another friend with a blog! He's just getting started people. Watch out. Hopscotch with Amputees. I predict greatness.

I also must somewhat agree that women/girls are evil... Yeah, I can be evil...

*Currently listening to Modern Art, Art Brut*

PS: Dave, please don't make me look bad.

Upcoming.

This is what I like the most: A whole lot of crazy to do!

6/25: Lucha VaVoom - Mexican Wrestling, half naked women, comedy and booze. This show's theme: Sexo & Violencia. Yeah!

7/03: Cirque Berzerk - The psychedelic circus! It will be my first time attending... People that go to Burning Man have some craziness to share I've been told. I like it!

7/04 - Quatro de Awesomeness - The same crazy (awesome) fellow that puts together Chriskwanzakkah is going all out with a naughty, insane, 4th of July celebration. His girlfriend is a genius when it comes to wicked. It's going to be over-the-top great, and best of all, for charity!

What are you waiting for? GET TICKETS!

New.

The last few nights have been marked with one thing in common, my new friend. It isn't everyday that you click with somebody right away. Neither of us were looking for it. It's amusing, stimulating.

I like the ease of our conversations and the lack of any expectations. It's real friendship, right from day one. Last night, we laughed at his misfortunes and talked about fun plans, discussed the differences in Spanish sayings and American, yes, 'tirar los perros' makes no freaking sense ... It's so easy.

Welcome to MyLand. Thanks for the visa to yours. And the family grows...

*Currently listening to Sunshine, Atmosphere (♪Sunshine, sunshine, it's fine, I feel it in my skin, warming up my mind, Sometimes you gotta give in to win, I love the days when it shines, whoa let it shine♫)*

A Memory & A Wish

I have 2 fathers. Two. Sometimes I felt like I had three. The boyfriend sometimes treats me like a kid. I know my father is dead, so do I say I have only one? It still feels like I have two. This is how lucky I am: I was given one, then honored with another one. Both very different, both incredibly special.

Happy fathers day to all the dads that do it right.

Unrelated: My mother said to me last night, 'your sex is your mind'. Interesting... I like it.

POEMA 20

Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.
Escribir, por ejemplo: «La noche está estrellada,
y tiritan, azules, los astros, a lo lejos.»

El viento de la noche gira en el cielo y canta.

Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.
Yo la quise, y a veces ella también me quiso.

En las noches como ésta la tuve entre mis brazos.
La besé tantas veces bajo el cielo infinito.

Ella me quiso, a veces yo también la quería.
Cómo no haber amado sus grandes ojos fijos.

Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.
Pensar que no la tengo. Sentir que la he perdido.

Oír la noche inmensa, más inmensa sin ella.
Y el verso cae al alma como al pasto el rocío.

Qué importa que mi amor no pudiera guardarla.
La noche está estrellada y ella no está conmigo.

Eso es todo. A lo lejos alguien canta. A lo lejos.
Mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido.

Como para acercarla mi mirada la busca.
Mi corazón la busca, y ella no está conmigo.

La misma noche que hace blanquear los mismos árboles.
Nosotros, los de entonces, ya no somos los mismos.

Ya no la quiero, es cierto, pero cuánto la quise.
Mi voz buscaba el viento para tocar su oído.

De otro. Será de otro. Como antes de mis besos.
Su voz, su cuerpo claro. Sus ojos infinitos.

Ya no la quiero, es cierto, pero tal vez la quiero.
Es tan corto el amor, y es tan largo el olvido.

Porque en noches como ésta la tuve entre mis brazos,
Mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido.

Aunque éste sea el último dolor que ella me causa,
y éstos sean los últimos versos que yo le escribo.

- Pablo Neruda

Bambole.

The transition from Los Angeles to Riverside, from bigger cities to little towns scattered across the desert is something to be appreciated in shorts glances and dreamy thoughts. As I drove, I wrote a story in my mind. A private story. Desert mermaids and wild cats.

I'm at my parents' home in Arizona. The sky can be red sometimes. I catch the aroma of their barbequing in the back yard. Wine was moved to a decanter, salads, sides, music. It's a feast. They're so happy. I'm so fortunate. I want to share this with all the people I love.

Love. It was said, that I love everyone and it doesn't make it any less special. True words. I do love. Everyone. The ones I love.

♫ Bambole, vamos bambole ♪

PS: Loredana's birthday party was Amazing. Dinner was perfect. BM was so much fun, but above and beyond, all the people that made it happen are truly precious. Thank you. Very, very much. I love all this love. Besitos.

One More Thing...

My friend Jeff, well, more like my supercooldudefriendjeff, is amazing... His blog is so very fun to read... I'm starting to sound like an airhaed here. I'm tired, I shouldn't be on blogger right now, and all I'm trying to say is: READ HIS BLOG. Pure genius.

The crayola post is like OMG, totally cool!

*Currently listening to NOTHING - I gotta go. Really*

Maybe Later?

I don't really have time for a real post. I'll say this much: Las Vegas is VERY fun with Summer!

Also, for some extra awesomeness...

Yeah, Right.

Who am I trying to fool? A REAL post from Vegas is not going to happen... I'm trying to keep every juicy detail in my mind to tell ya'll later.

Vegas, day 2. Interesting.

*Currently listening to the people next to me trying to decide if they should spend their last $50 on food or Poker*

And Away I Go...

For 2 days.

Cheesy, Elvis, Viva Las Vegas... Yeah, pretty cheesy, Cheesier than a pandebono (Colombian joke -haha)...



Vegas induced posts to follow...

Moving On.

Let's go back to evil. So what's evil? Child-laborers, rapists, child pornographers, terrorists, serial killers (when I was little, I used to think it was 'cereal killers' and people killed cereal), murderers, drug-dealers, and so on, all constitute a personification of evil. But lesser evils are still evil, like lying and cheating and stealing and taking my parking spot.

In a world where passing judgment is so easy, how do we separate what's really evil and what is not? how does this evil come to be?

I have a theory. It involves the nature Vs. nurture dilemma and how circumstances change the reaction of certain actions depending on the evolution of time. It's more of a hypothesis really.

I want to hear what you think about all this...

Also, an awesome question by Chuck Palahniuk, brought up by Arwen the Star: “If death meant just leaving the stage long enough to change costume and come back as a new character...Would you slow down? Or speed up?”

Knowing myself, I'd probably speed up, looking for the perfect character to play... Maybe not. You?

*Currently listening to You're my flame, Zero 7 (I love the lyrics)*

Waiting For Summer.

It doesn't feel like it's going to get warm anytime soon. When asked, I tell the truth, always. I love the summertime. I love feeling sticky and warm. I like how the days feel longer and the clothes needed are minimal. I love open-toe shoes. I love the concerts during the summer and the picnics at the park. I'm waiting for the summer. Waiting almost-patiently.

Yesterday, I watched a very sweet film. I, unlike some people I know, enjoy watching films that have been suggested to me. How else would I discover such great treasures? This was Billy Elliot, he's a dancer, one of those people who are that, dancers, he just knew it.

This is a multi-layered film. It tells the story of a young boy and his family. The story of how he comes into himself and realizes what he really wants. It's about what we want, what we need and what we can have.

I'll just say watch it. The music is amazing, the characters are endearing, it's sad, whimsical, funny, witty, a heart-felt portrayal of an amazing story.

Another thing, the movie opens up to Billy jumping and the background music is Cosmic Dancer performed by TRex, it's a Marc Bolan song... It's so appropriate. It stayed with me throughout the whole film... Even now.



So as I wait for the summer to hit, I say 'dance Billy, dance!'

(and so the sheep says to the horse: 'watch this one')...

Ta-Dah.

Ta-Dah, the second album by the Scissor Sisters, is so unique, so mesmerizing. I'm a big fan of their first album (self-titled), mostly because it's fun and up-beat. But Ta-Dah feels more complete. There's dance, electro-pop and really sweet melodies.

It's a trip. You start off with full happiness and it takes you through a wide scheme of emotions and softens you up. Sometimes, you don't even realize the lyrics are so hard-core, sometimes, the lyrics ring like poetry under the stars...

I know I said no more, but here's another one...

Here Comes The News.

News From L.A.:

• The L.A. Lakers win the NBA Championship... Bah. Shame on the Orlando Magics for not beating them into a child-like cry. Shame.
• Gay Pride! 'More politicians in the parade than ever'. (according to the news) - I'll say that persuading my friend to buy an 'I ♥ HEAD' tee and changing into it in the middle of the street was my favorite part. Well yeah, I am happy to see the gay community not giving up. Happy pride!
  

National News:

• Backyard chickens on the rise, despite neighbors plucks - Seriosly? This is news? I guess people are setting up chicken coops within the city (Madison, Wis.) to supply 3 families... I guess, 'due to the recession, people are turning to things that remind them of simpler times'. This is news according to the L.A. Times... Okay.
• More on Sotomayor... How much more? Now, I guess the questioning will 'be focused on her work as a civil rights advocate in the 1980s as much as on her nearly two decades on the federal bench.' - Being objective is obviously difficult. Another bah.
  
• There are concerns about airline safety guidelines... Now this is important.
  

News from the World:

• The Elections in Iran - Okay, I'm a bit interested. 'Protesters who allege the presidential vote was rigged clash with police for a second day. The government denies Ahmadienjad's main challenger is under house arrest.' - What's really going to happen?
  
• Pakistan, The Taliban, Al Qaeda, Swine flu... Triple bah.
• 'Colombian Rocker 'Juanes' Gives Back. Like fellow Colombian singer Shakira, the 36-year-old lends his star power and cash to alleviate suffering in this war- and drug-ravaged nation (they mean Colombia), advocating for land mine and kidnapping victims, peace and reconciliation, and preschool education'. - Awesome, you see? Colombians ROCK! We all do. Okay, not all, there wouldn't be violence, drugs, child-labor, prostitution and corruption in Colombia if we all did. I do, I really do!

*Currently listening to nothing... Silence is good sometimes.*

I'm Off.

To make things happen...

R.C. has a good feeling about this. I do too.

What are the possibilities of achieving 3 totally separate, yet almost related goals in one day? Chances are looking good.

Ponder here:

"But maybe there's something to what you say," said Elphaba. "I mean, evil and boredom. Evil and ennui. Evil and the lack of stimulation. Evil and sluggish blood."

- Gregory Maguire, Wicked (page 80)

I'll get back to this. Think, for now.

*Currently listening to the water in the shower run, it's ready for me*

I Can't Decide.

Yes, yes... I'm liking Scissor Sisters...

In the great words of R.C., 'The lyrics are serious shit, but the tunes are so fun, who notices?' - I do my dear, I do!

♥ ya long time.

Dreams in Lima.

I had a very vivid dream last night. I dreamed that I was in Lima, walking down Avenida Malecón with my father. He held my hand to cross the street and we were trying to decide where to have lunch. My sister was with us, but she was a child, the same age she was when she last went to Peru with us. A little close to the last time she saw our father.

My sister suddenly leaves the scene and I'm left alone with my dad.

We're not close to Larcomar anymore, we're walking down a street I don't recognize, but I know I'm in Miraflores. The trees, the combis on the street, it's all so familiar. All of the sudden, he falls in my arms and it's evident he's dying. I'm trying to save him. To help him, but in a matter of seconds, he's gone.

Dreaming of my father dying in my arms must signify something. I wasn't there with him when he died. He was alone. He died alone. I remember the last time we spoke, how he said he was so very ill. I called everyone I knew in Peru, I wired funds, I started packing. Then, in no time, it was all over. The family he successfully pushed away, the family who loved him so much, wasn't there with him. I know his secret though, he did love us. He just didn't know how to be loved.

When I think of Lima I think of the ocean and the cliffs that border it, the little streets over-crowded with mini-buses, taxis, men in bicycles covered with baskets and death-inflicting traffic... You move out of the way or you get hit by a car. I remember the open market where we'd grocery shop on Sundays and the trattoria that served his favorite veal parmigiana. I remember ordering pisco-sours while he'd order a scotch and sitting on the patio of a cafe in Barranco watching the pretty euro-peruvians walk by with their surfer looks, long legs and wavy blonde hair.

I remember the marked difference between social classes. There is no middle class in Lima. You have much, or very little. That's just the way it is. Just by crossing a street, you find yourself in a totally different world. Then there's the pollution, for those who know me well, imagine my hand-wipes and hand-washing habits being at its peak in Peru.

Lima enchanted him. He fell in love with the love affaire that Limeños have with food and drink. Through his love of food, he fell in love with anticuchos, cuy al horno (guinea pig), ceviche and the chicharrones (different from Colombian); he fell in love with Lima, he never returned to Colombia, he never returned to us.

One day, perhaps, I'll return to Peru. I'll go visit Lima and visit his grave. I never think of it. In fact, I hadn't thought of Lima in a positive way in years. But the truth is that I did understand his love for this place, I did see it too. When my one-month stay expired it was me who decided to stay longer, to stay with him, to stay in this magical place. I had decided I would hate Peru for taking him away from me, from us. But this magical place isn't to be blamed.

Once Upon A Time

I once lost your blog. No, that's not the way this story begins. I once sent you an email. You never responded. I followed your blog, secretly. Then one day, when life carried on with its motions, I lost it. I lost your posts. I lost your blog. This was many, many days ago. Months.

Then one day, I see you again. I pop into your life. I find you.

Magic is sneaky. Magic is powerful.

Then, it's gone. But it's not really gone, we all know that the remains of such magical power leave sweet markings. It wont be put into a gallery along with other affections. It's all been documented, memorized, categorized, defined.

So the lamb says to the horse: 'What a ridiculous, adorable horse'.

*Currently listening to Girl From Ipanema (Garota di Ipanema), Astrud Gilberto*

Better Suited.

The End.

Somethings are just over. Not in actuality but I can feel that the journey has met its end.

I could have chosen differently for myself. I could have. But what's the point of following something that isn't real?

Hypotheticals are lonely children, stranded on a desert, eyes stained with dirty tears. The truth is a figment of a psychotic's vivid and disturbed imagination.

I stand in one place.

You: Filthy. Me: Gorgeous.

Not MY Class?

Awesome!

When I started this blog I felt inclined towards leaving it be anonymous. MLAAP was anonymous for the most part. Then I thought, 'fuck it', my thoughts are mine, not intended to mean anything to anyone else but me. You can take it or leave it.

Then... There's my friends' blogs. Jeff is the man. Not my class, not yours... DEAR!

One more for awesomeness.

*Currently listening to Mmm Mmm Mmm Mmm, Crash Test Dummies - A musical lesson*

A Matter Of Loss.

I went to a funeral today. No, not a funeral, I went to the service that takes place prior to the actual burial ceremony. It was for my friend's father-in-law, he was very old and had become quite ill. The family was very sad.

I must question this sadness. He was very old, very ill. Wouldn't the correct emotion be happiness? Isn't sadness selfish?

Yes, he will be missed by the ones that love him. Yes, the memories will eventually, one day become faint. But he lived a plentiful life. Isn't that a matter to be celebrated?

For one who has lost a daughter/son, sister/brother, wife/husband, friend who has left this realm at a young age, sadness seems appropriate. There's the question of how many wonderful things this person didn't get to live. But for someone who has completed a cycle?

White. Colorful. Not black.

*Currently listening to Hurricane Jane, Black Kids*

She's My Man.

This town was built on muddy stilts
By the lunatic parade
It rains like Revelations
Gonna wash these freaks away
Some girls wanna hold your hand
And some girls like to pray
Well my girl takes her drinks
With dust and rusty razor blades

As I lie between these covers
I wanna tell her that I love it
When she chokes me in the
Backseat of her riverboat 'cause

She's my man
And we got all the balls we need
When you taste that big meat
You're amazed
She smells your sympathy
So bye bye ladies
May the best queen hold the crown
For the most bush sold on the levee
My my, how word gets around
She strangles for a good time
And she kills my self-control
She's my man, don't be too sad sonny
'Cause she'll never be your woman no more

Someday soon, this dank lagoon's
Gonna sink right into hell
They'll hide you from Big Ida
At the Sho' Enough Hotel
The Ladies of the evening's just
A tombstone in your bed
Well my girl eats a wounded preacher
'tween two loaves of bread

I know she's up to something
But how can I run when she's just
Keel-hauled twenty-on to nothing
I'll stay next to the steel coal oven 'cause

She's my man
And we got all the balls we need
When you taste that big meat
You're amazed
She smells your sympathy
So bye bye ladies
May the best queen hold the crown
For the most bush sold on the levee
My my, how word gets around
She strangles for a good time
And she kills my self-control
She's my man, don't be too sad sonny
'Cause she'll never be your woman no more

All you need's just a fist of a tear-stained bunny
When the good ship comes to town
Who said loves a bitch'll sit next to me honey
Because this old boat's gonna run aground
I don't want to be the burden
Or your jealous bastard
I don't wanna be the Tarzan of your next epic disaster

She's my man
And we got all the balls we need
When you taste that big meat
You're amazed
She smells your sympathy
So bye bye ladies
May the best queen hold the crown
For the most bush sold on the levee
My my, how word gets around
She strangles for a good time
And she kills my self-control
She's my man, don't be too sad sonny
'Cause she'll never be your woman no more

She's my man, can't you feel her comin'
She's my man, she's gonna keep you runnin'
She's my man, she's gonna teach you something
She's me, she's my man

-Scissor Sisters

In The Stars.

In one of the stars

I shall be living
In one of them
I shall be laughing
And so it will be
as if all the stars
were laughing
when you look
at the sky at night

-Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince

A friend once shared an old Southern saying with me: 'When the winds of change come too hard, all you can do is close your eyes, and let them blow across your face'. Then she added: 'Just take comfort in the fact that you now have people that love you on both sides of eternity'.

*Currently listening to Otoño, Franco de Vita*

Idyll.

This one is particularly special for me. My father loved this song, I remember being little and hearing him play it, singing along, dancing to it. Later on, it became one of my favorites... I found myself doing the same... I wish there was no language barrier to keep all people from understanding everything about it, how every note compliments each word, how it's simple, a form of beauty.

R.I.P. Little Blue.

Oh sadness.

Sundays are church day. Temple/sanctuary, whatever you'd like to call it. Beach day.

Today, it was supposed to be all about Little Blue, the wind and me. Fate had a different plan. Somewhere between the 110 and the 105, Little Blue jumped off the bike rack and onto the freeway. I immediately took her to the doctor, the cheif physician at Helen's Cycles said Little Blue was gone...

This was one of my favorite presents ever received. It was a source of happiness. It was a path to instant joy. Was. Gone...

The end of one love and now the loss of something that was once tied to it. Almost too symbolic. Almost sad.

But when something ends there's something new to start... Watch out bike lanes, I'll be back!

Do As You're Told.

1. Hit play.
   
2. Close your eyes.
3. Listen.
4. Get on with your day.

♥ & Peace. Shalom.

The Funny Times.

There's something magical about Las Vegas. I remember my first trip to Las Vegas was an unsettling mix of appreciation for all the structures and confusion... I didn't understand what all the big deal was. I wasn't 21.

Then, in my mid-twenties, I returned to Vegas and it was a totally different place. The lights looked brighter, the people happier, the sounds of the cling-cling-cling at the casinos louder. I tried my luck at the roulette and hit a double zero, Martinis at the Bellagio were sweet and tangy, the DJ at Body English played all my favorite songs and missing our friends' wedding because we were drunk/high/partied-out wasn't a tragedy, it was hilarious.

Vegas is Sin City, there's no inhibitions, there aren't any rules, lap dances are shared, welcomed, distributed equally; the giant Eifel Tower margarita is passed around in your circle of friends while in motion from casino to casino, sky is the limit - Or the disappearance of your 'Vegas-funds'.

Last night, I watched The Hangover... It reminds me of all the good weekends I've spent in Vegas... All the craze, all the laughter, all the pain of leaving and how welcome and peaceful home feels afterward.

♦ The Hangover: Over-the-top hilarious. Watch it.

*Currently listening to You Shook Me All Night Long, ACDC (best stripper song EVER)*

Horse and I

Got woken in the night,
by a mystic golden light.
My head soaked in river water.
I had been dressed in a coat of armor.
They called a horse out of the woodland.
"Take her there, through the desert shores."
They sang to me, "This is yours to wear. You're the chosen one, there's no turning back now."

The smell of redwood giants.
A banquet for the shadows.
Horse and I, we're dancers in the dark.
Came upon the headdress.
It was gilded, dark and golden.
The children sang.
I was so afraid I took it to my head and prayed.
They sang to me, "This is yours to wear. You're the chosen one, there's no turning back."
They sang to me, "This is yours to wear. You're the chosen one, there's no turning back."

There is no turning back.
There is no turn.
There is no turning back.
There is no turn.
There is no turning back.
There is no turn.

- Bat for Lashes

A Post That You Can Understand.

It's pretty simple. I think you're wonderful. Let me tell you a story...

There are so many people in the world. So many. But somehow, I managed to meet you. Somehow. There is so much going on. All the time. But somehow, you and I manage to be in the same place, at the same time, making wonderful conversations possible. Somehow.

You're sweet, for that I'm thankful. I'm crazy, for that you never get bored. 'A good flavor of crazy', that, borrowed from a friend.

You give to me what is always nice to hear and I give to you what you seldom know about.

This is a post you can understand. Simply because it is for you!

*Currently listening to 1001 Nights, Beats from the Orient*

Go. Go. Go!

While 82% of The L.A. population will be glued to a T.V. watching the Lakers hopefully lose, I will be having a wonderful sushi dinner with my dearest Vanessa and her lovely daughter.

What's my problem with the Lakers? It has a first and last name, Kobe Bryant. That cocky, adulterous, excellent player.

Perhaps one day, when he leaves the Lakers, I will consider being a fan. Just maybe.

For now, I leave you all with some Kings of Leon...

Twitter No More.

During the last couple of years (or more, in the case of MySpace), networking sites have taken me in and dictated a certain presence in my life. I say 'No More!' to unnecessary networking, since networking is suppose to be about My Purpose and Twitter serves no purpose for me anymore.

Adios Twitter, chao, ciao, hasta la vista, goodbye, see ya never, lates!

*Currently listening to the rain outside my window, ugly day L.A., where's the summer?*

I Lust You.

Elegy.

"I think it was Bette Davis who said, 'old age is not for sissies'. But it was Tolstoi who said, 'the biggest surprise in a man's life is old age'. It sneaks up on you and the next thing you know, you're asking yourself, I'm asking myself: Why can't an old man act his real age? How is it possible for me to still be involved in the carnal aspects of the human comedy?
Because, in my head, nothing has changed".

- David, Elegy (the film).

Coming of age... It doesn't happen with a barmitzvah, a katillian, a quinceañera. It doesn't happen when you're asked for it. Coming of age is unrelated to age itself. Coming of age takes place when the individual has shed the realities surrounding the child and comes into the needs of adulthood. But, what is adulthood?

I was asked to grow up at a very young age. I was asked to understand things no child needs to understand. I was asked to need a different set of possibilities, more suited to my new reality. Yet, I'm still a child, awaiting my coming of age.

♦ Elegy - Watch it.

Today's Pie.

I could never be a waitress. If I close my eyes and picture it, I see flying plates and spilled drinks. I see unhappy customers, I see a mess.

I hope to be brave. If I prayed, I would pray for courage. Having love is not the same as being loved. I'd rather love.

'I don't expect much, give much, I don't get much. I generally enjoy whatever comes up. That's my truth, I am happy enough". - Cal, Waitress (the film)*

Is being happy enough, enough? Of course not. I suspect that 'barely happy' creeps up on us, why would anyone choose it? I suspect one day, we wake up and realize that our happiness is not real, that there must be more, that the feeling of fulfillment we once felt isn't there anymore, not even vaguely. I suspect we fool ourselves because reality is so damn sad. I suspect we lie to ourselves because we're scared, because we wonder if half-happy is better than being miserable while finding something else. In translation, the condition becomes cowardice. I am a coward.

*Currently listening to Time to Pretend, MGMT*

*Thanks Turner.

Better Than You.

You know things aren't bad at all when you can read other people's tragedies and find them hilarious...

(413): that girl last night was a 15
(1-413): wait she was 15?
(413): no like black jack not sure if you should hit it

- www.textsfromlastnight.com, Bad Night 181*


Today, I was walking down the sidewalk and heard a little girl ask her dad why I had blue hair. He said, "Sometimes drugs will make people do stupid things.

- www.fmylife.com, #2485875**


*Thanks Jeff.
**Thanks Silvana.

The Cyclone Times.

I've discovered that I can be quite ridiculous when I'm anxious.

Today, the entire day felt wasted even though I accomplished everything I had to do, plus I swam, cleaned my home, groomed my cat, cooked, run extra errands and organized my CDs and DVDs in alphabetical order, my shoes by color and style, and my business cards by service.

The one thing that I wanted for the day didn't happen... I. MUST. GET. A. GRIP.

Yoga used to calm me down. That, and running the mountain... A sign from beyond?

Don't Get Me Started.

Using your signal lights isn't a hard task. Use them. They're there for a reason. PLEASE don't change lanes without using them, if you do so around me, I will give you a piece of my mind. Also, don't try to pass me, then get in front of me and drive like a grandma. If you're speeding up to get in front of me, MOVE with the flow of traffic.

I'm assuming that as an adult who speaks relatively well, you went to school and learned some proper grammar. Don't email me or text me with text talk, use complete sentences, use punctuation marks, use whole words. L8, dunno, aight, laterz, are also NOT Words.

And please, when you talk to me, look me in the eye. Don't gaze vaguely, don't whisper, don't be scared. I'm a sweet little thing, it's all ok.

*Currently listening to Ode to LRC, Band of Horses*