really wish I had this waiting for me in my bed tonight... to cuddle, of course...
Saturday, July 30, 2011
let it never be said i am not an Archie fan!
Would you believe me if I told you I actually got star struck!! Haha! Its true! PR dude hooked me up with free comics and an Archie pin. I'm officially on dork status!
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Friday, July 29, 2011
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Monday, July 25, 2011
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Dennis Brown
Love and hate can never be friends
Oh no, oh no
Here I come with love and not hatred
surely goodness and mercy
shall follow I all the days of I life
envy no one no wish to be with no evil man
for there'll come the day
when you'll be whipped by the father's hand
Live up roots children
Live up rasta children
Oh no, oh no
Here I come with love and not hatred
surely goodness and mercy
shall follow I all the days of I life
envy no one no wish to be with no evil man
for there'll come the day
when you'll be whipped by the father's hand
Live up roots children
Live up rasta children
Sparklehorse - Piano fire
i got sunburned waiting for the jets to land... circus people with heavy little hands...
i discovered no power in an old face. hope for new faces to disappear.
All pressed up on the glass, leaving steam halos with hungry mouths.
Take of your pants.
I'm loud.
but terrified.
fuck me with lights out, we'll play punk and stab our eyes out.
I only tolerate the pain-kind.
Monday, July 18, 2011
New Leaf Sammich!
Seriously, between the hot older guy who kinda looks like Spock from Star Trek and the younger fully tat'd Rockabilly guy, I L.O.V.E. new leaf downtown! !!
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Sunday, July 17, 2011
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Crawling back into my cheesy romance novel. Where I can hide. I'm scared. I don't know how I'm going to pull off SF. And when I get there, will my hands still shake? Will my kindness still make me invisible? Will my virtue still make me undesirable? I don't know how its going to pan out. I'm broke, can't get enough hours at work, and I have no vehicle to get me there. Am I crazy? Sell and trash nearly everything I own, or rather, what's left after this last year from hell. But, I tell you one thing. My whole life fell apart this last year and if I'm going to recreate it anyway, why not recreate it in a place I have always wanted to be. Sure, there's always going to be people ready to look down on my too honest face. And I will probably always be how I am. But at least I will be able to look around for the first time and say "I didn't end up here from circumstances. I wanted to be here. I made it happen."
Friday, July 15, 2011
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
For Those Intrested In Sustainability
I recommend this movie (30+min, a companion to a book of same name)
I haven't read the book, but the documentary was short, informative, and inspiring.
I am reminded by this that I am often placed in a sustainable, or more sustainable positions than others, simply because of my economic level and lifestyle choices.
I could lament the details of this or I could promote them further.
For example: I did not have a driver's license until I was 25 years old. I have since had vehicles for several years until this year. That's five years of driving.
What my experiences around this have taught me is that
A) You can LIVE without a vehicle.
B) It's harder! And it requires forethought and preparation ie. researching the weather, having proper equipment, investing in a proper bicycle.
C) It's healthier! I am more connected to my body. (And what a fiiiiine body that is! hehehehe).
I am moving to San Francisco and I hope this will make getting around easier, without a vehicle, but to be honest, getting around is doable now. And I'm not using my bicycle at all.
There a lot of programs in SF to tap into.
ex:
http://www.citycarshare.org/
In fact, all I have to do is be willing to step out a bit and I'll find a whole world available, I just have to be willing to be new and awkward at certain things.
This car-situation often is the foundation for a host of other sustainability choices as well.
I can only buy as many groceries as I can carry, so I often eat fresh vegetables, rather than a lot of boxed or frozen/canned foods.
And, while I'm at it, why not eat organic, fancy pants rich people veges? So, I do. Because I can.
I can't accumulate a lot of things, simply because I have to carry them home.
And you become much more conscious about your things. Simply because if I want to get rid of things I can't bag them up and take them somewhere. I have to organize help.
I am also a very proud, very self-reliant, solitary person. This lifestyle has kept me in contact with people, humble, and open. I don't mind helping others out but I don't want to ask for help. Screw that! But, in this way, I am letting people in, get to know me, and the only thing disturbing about it is my feeling that somehow I'm less than because of it.
I have no great summary-wrap up for this post so...
bye.
I am reminded by this that I am often placed in a sustainable, or more sustainable positions than others, simply because of my economic level and lifestyle choices.
I could lament the details of this or I could promote them further.
For example: I did not have a driver's license until I was 25 years old. I have since had vehicles for several years until this year. That's five years of driving.
What my experiences around this have taught me is that
A) You can LIVE without a vehicle.
B) It's harder! And it requires forethought and preparation ie. researching the weather, having proper equipment, investing in a proper bicycle.
C) It's healthier! I am more connected to my body. (And what a fiiiiine body that is! hehehehe).
I am moving to San Francisco and I hope this will make getting around easier, without a vehicle, but to be honest, getting around is doable now. And I'm not using my bicycle at all.
There a lot of programs in SF to tap into.
ex:
http://www.citycarshare.org/
In fact, all I have to do is be willing to step out a bit and I'll find a whole world available, I just have to be willing to be new and awkward at certain things.
This car-situation often is the foundation for a host of other sustainability choices as well.
I can only buy as many groceries as I can carry, so I often eat fresh vegetables, rather than a lot of boxed or frozen/canned foods.
And, while I'm at it, why not eat organic, fancy pants rich people veges? So, I do. Because I can.
I can't accumulate a lot of things, simply because I have to carry them home.
And you become much more conscious about your things. Simply because if I want to get rid of things I can't bag them up and take them somewhere. I have to organize help.
I am also a very proud, very self-reliant, solitary person. This lifestyle has kept me in contact with people, humble, and open. I don't mind helping others out but I don't want to ask for help. Screw that! But, in this way, I am letting people in, get to know me, and the only thing disturbing about it is my feeling that somehow I'm less than because of it.
I have no great summary-wrap up for this post so...
bye.
Group Home Stories
It's a reality far removed from the average experience, but to those that have lived it, it was home.
Institutionalized smells and cheap linoleum floors, the slickness of fear, the comfort of schedules, and the love of a few staff members that gave you the gift of giving a damn, this was all part of it.
I lived in Sacramento Children's Home for three years of my life. From the ages of twelve to fifteen. I have a thousand memories inside my heart, both dark ones and ones so dear and sweet to the taste it alone recalls Hattie's lemonade she would trade for chore work.
Hattie had dark red-black, roughened cleaning-woman's hands and a quick laugh. Her eyes were sharp and weary around the corners. Up to cottage one she would come, cooler tucked under her arm, or ambling across the field to the other houses. There were four one story houses on one side, labeled cottage one through four, and one house for younger children, divided for boys and girls on the other side of the property. We did chores for checks to be cashed at the on site "bank". Green slips of paper with dollar amounts and staff signatures, (forged sometimes, by the braver kids). But for a small styrofoam cup of that pure, sweet sunshine, we'd do anything. Wash windows, sweep floors, whatever! And the pride that she made lemonade so good... so good!...it made some obstinate hood rat kids jump into chorework....well, that was some damn good lemonade! The pride nestled into some old dimples in the side of her cheeks, conjuring up a time when, perhaps, she had been young and beautiful and her fire was pure sass and not fuel for long work days. Not that she wasn't sassy now. The general temperament of most of the staff, especially people who came from the neighborhood the group home was nestled in, were people you could not get over on. The ain't-gonna-take-none-of-yo-bullshit type.
This time had a greater impact on shaping who I am than maybe any other time in my life. For the first time I could count on certain things that I had learned before were not dependable. Simple things most people take for granted. Like food.
There were many times in my life I remember going hungry.
The walls always changed. Faux wood paneling of a trailer, or marked and stained creme of a cheap apartment, but I would stare off, stomach so tight and noisy from hunger and fear I would flip flop between desperately ravenous to nauseous and unable to eat.
It was food stamped hotdogs wrapped in white bread on reused white plastic T.V. dinner trays, stamped "Swanson" right on the bottom. Two dogs. Microwave blistered in their little generic-want-to-be-wonderbread blankets, laying side by side in the main dish compartment of the tray. Maybe a glass of milk in a bright plastic tumbler. Maybe powdered milk, that pale, sick creation some Nazi probably created to torture poor little white girls in trailer parks. It looks just like milk. But it tastes like dust and urine, lingering afterward on the back of your throat and reminding you you're not, in fact, drinking real milk
Many afternoons or late evenings my sister and I would sneak into the kitchen to steal a can of corn or green beans. The monster was either passed out or hungover. Do not wake her up. Do. Not. You kept an ear cocked for her snoring, praying as each step landed that the floor wouldn't squeak. If she woke, there would be a few small waves, some yelling, a few "gawdamns" and "fucks" but the tidal waves hit when you heard the sharp bass of rapid stomping rush toward you. Then the violence. Nope, better to go hungry, laying on your bed with your mind for company, until it was two, three, and you couldn't stand it anymore.
Summer vacation was a hell endured only up till our Father's parents came and got us for our regular extended visits in San Jose. But, that's a different blog entry.
In the group home I lived for a year on the younger kid's side and then transferred over to the older side for the next two years.
I wish I could share all the memories I have of these staff. There are a few children too.
Like Jatiya. I miss Jatiya. If there was anything like a real sister I had in there it would be her. In good ways and bad! Haha!
Jatiya was my first roommate. She had an M.C. Hammer poster and wild, thick spongy hair she didn't really know how to take care of. She was gregarious and had a wide smile and also bore some heavy emotional wounds like me. She had no idea of her self-worth, her strength, her beauty. She was, like me, just another dirt poor-throw-away kid. Only difference was she was a ward of the court. I wasn't. My mother still retained custody of me. Most of the kids were wards of the court. I knew it made me different. I had somebody. Somebody who smiled for the social workers and used my placement to get every possible service for herself she could. The same woman whom I visited three times in a psych ward for suicide prior to my placement. Good for her I guess that she got the help she needed, but the fact that it was at the cost of myself, my childhood, my own sanity, still hurts.
What I don't regret is my time in S.C.H., the people I met, the way it changed me. I'm grateful. I do wish I had been able to go into a foster home after, instead of being released back to my mother at fifteen. I have been taking care of myself and struggling to get somewhere ever since. When more dreams blow up in my face, and I gather the remnants together and try again, consoling myself that, "Hey, I've stayed out of prison! I'm already a success! Haha" I think of the faces and hands of the strong women in that group home. Like Hattie, like Annie, like Cory, Kayponti. These are the faces I take with me that give me strength.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Mary Wells - Bye Bye Baby (Live, 1963) [HD video]
detroit cobras introduced this song to me, Mary Wells made me love it.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Days spent like welfare stamps
stretching out on unlit candles
these silent roads
where throw away people walk
Hope is a masochistic exercise
labor handed with a head full of intellectual nonsense
the curve of a steel pipe
so eloquent,
the running of muscles playing with sun and sweat
Easy to whisper of dreams
when Daddy calls on Sunday
Reaching to horizons
where Earth mates with sky
so blatantly, mocking what you
scarred from seedy survival
will never be soft enough to recieve
There,
where all your dreams live
between the heavy bodies
Gravities a bitch.
stretching out on unlit candles
these silent roads
where throw away people walk
Hope is a masochistic exercise
labor handed with a head full of intellectual nonsense
the curve of a steel pipe
so eloquent,
the running of muscles playing with sun and sweat
Easy to whisper of dreams
when Daddy calls on Sunday
Reaching to horizons
where Earth mates with sky
so blatantly, mocking what you
scarred from seedy survival
will never be soft enough to recieve
There,
where all your dreams live
between the heavy bodies
Gravities a bitch.
Friday, July 8, 2011
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Day Off
Today I laid out nekid. Sounds super erotic, yeah?
Well, my housemates are out of town, and, well,
let's just say I was on JABBA THE HUT status! Yeah!
Haha!!! All up in the chips and dips and chocolate chips! All I need are some hot guys on chains! Come here, BOY!
Check this Jabba photo I found online!
Check this Jabba photo I found online!
Not a pretty picture is it?
Heheheheh!
I'm grateful that I have work tomorrow. Without any responsibilities, Lord knows what kind of monster I could become. *shudder*
I got to be grateful for my naturally athletic genes. I've always been put together on the solid side of things. I could get up and run four miles now if I wanted to, and after the way I lounged around and gorged today I probably should go running.
I did walk over an hour today. Walking's part of my lifestyle. Maybe that's how I get away with acting like a teenage boy. All I need is to pull out my skateboard and buy a BMX, maybe some porn, and there you have it.
Man. I miss my porn. Haha. Seriously, I used to have a great collection of 1960s Playboys. Super cool. And I also used to buy Playboys when famous chicks were in it. Like the singer from the Go-Gos. I actually, believe it or not, had a boyfriend that was jealous of my collection and talked me into throwing it out. I'm too nice sometimes.
So, I did lay out naked, but I was trying to even out my crazy work tan. And I felt less like a sexy Playboy centerfold and more like some lost bloated sea lion corpse, drool mingling with tortilla chip crumbs and grass blades. THUPER THEXY! Ayyyyy Papi!
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Answer
How powerful. I fell asleep and recieved an answer. Work with children who come environments like I did. System kids. Thank you.
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Dear Universr, kay, I wanna be
Inspired by Blondie. I wanna wear shades and be silent. Seattle for the first time. Gunna put red red lipstick juuuuust like Deborah. Forgot my flannel. Ha.
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What I wish is that I never had to know that feeling of doubting my own worth ever again. Why do other people never seem so regularly assualted by waves like these? Dragging me low and taking the wind out of my step...
And also, i'm wondering how crazy am I.
And if I have lived trying to be hidden and instead wasted so many moments.
And also, i'm wondering how crazy am I.
And if I have lived trying to be hidden and instead wasted so many moments.
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Friday, July 1, 2011
Dear Universe,
I honestly don't know where you're taking me, where you want me to be and what you want me to be doing.
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