A Sarah Jessica Parker Sex in the City Aside Monologue Opening Scen

I don't know if its the holiday season, or if it's my body telling me that I'm exhausted and need to slow down, but I've felt really down lately.

Yes, its in the open. No need to hide how we feel. Once we can put a name to the feeling, we shouldnt be ashamed of it. I couldn't tell you why I've felt so bad lately. I could make a few guesses, but the forces of nature and balances of neurotransmitters are all out of my hands.

Today I spent most of my day with my ass glued to a computer chair as I regurgitated 12 pages of sociological bullshit. I came home, brain fried, and decided to reciprocate this theme with a bowl of fried rice.

I was just about to start an essay, one of which I knew would be interrupted by my class registration appointment, so needless to say I didnt put much effort into starting it. To this moment all it reads is the title and my name.

Then I got a call from my roommate. "come outside and get in the car! Hurry!"

I already knew where she was taking me. She was taking me to look at the christmas lights down the street, the ones I go out of my way to drive by every night on my way home.

"Uhhggg do i have to?"

"Yes! Just get in the car!"

I looked at the clock. It was an hour before I was able to register for classes. All I wanted to do was lay in bed for that hour staring blankly at a screen. And then a good friend's voice popped in my head,

"One of the most important things to remember in life is to do something fun every day. When it comes down to it, only you are responsible for your own happiness. So have a little fun, make yourself go out and do things you normally wouldnt."

So I hopped in, and she said, "I know you might have already seen these, and this isn't my kind of thing, but I know you really love christmas lights... so i wanted to drive you around so you can see them."


Now are you ready for my Sex In the City ending?.. Here goes.


It was then that the icebergs on my shoulder started to melt a little. This wasn't her plan to interrupt my evening. This wasn't her scheme to make me do something I didn't want to do. This was a completely genuine gesture, something that she had thought would make me happy. And it did, it really did.

As we drove underneath icycle lights strung from house to house, what I realized was that although these lights are very enoyable when i drive through them... all I've really been wanting this week was someone to see them with.

I think over this past year, this is one of those moments that I'm most thankful for. And its not just the lights. It's the person in the car next to me.

Yes, you.

"Hey you, out there in the cold
Getting lonely, getting old, can you feel me?"

It's not neglegence. It's just not having enough. The overflowing cup has a hole in the bottom. Someone come drink it fast before it all spills out.

"Hey you, out there on your own,
Sitting naked by the phone, would you touch me...
Hey you, with your ear up against the wall
waiting for someone to call out, would you touch me..."

Note to self

I'm gonna make list of shit to do for tomorrow, because tonight I just want to be drunk and not care. I'm already halfway there already, there's no turning back.

Just a note to self: Why has Jason Lee lowered himself down to making shows like, "My Name Is Earl?"... If I was a millionaire, I'd hire pre-2005 Jason Lee to be my butler and pay him lots of money to tell me jokes and give me hugs on a bad day so he wouldnt have to make stupid ass shows.


By the way, cheese makes everything taste better. The end.

Oh yeah wait, my list:

1. Email "Food not Bombs" organization for community service hours this weekend

2. Work on my resume to send to Apple

3. plug in my cell phone because it's dying

4. buy a new bottle of jager

5. make alot of money tomorrow

6. drop the SMUD bill off before class

7. Go to bed now because you have work at 5am tomorrow.

ok I'll do number 7 now just to get it out of the way.

The sad truth is..

Cafeteria food may never cease to disappoint me.

I find myself wondering how can you ruin cheese pizza?...

Sacramento City College has definitely succeeded.

I'm welcoming indigestion with each bite of this chicken soft taco.


Bon Apetit.

A year of first, lasts... continued.

Edit 11.29.09

So I was walking out to the mall parkinglot today after work with a few of my barista coworkers and my openly gay assistant manager. Someone had brought up SF and how everyone there is either gay, ghetto, or a druggie. "I was all three," I said jokingly. But it sorta upset me to hear these judgements, especially coming from a gay coworker.

"I miss SF.... I miss the lifestyle..."

I know I didnt actually live there, but it was nice to be so close. I was like a Jekyl and Hyde. By day I was a San Mateo resident, walking my dog and visiting coffee shops. By night (well, some nights), I was lurking the streets and bars from Burlingame to SF, hitting an italian cafe for cioppini or having some midnight japanese deserts, or getting way too drunk to drive home but doing it anyway.

Maybe it was the lack of responsibility that I liked most (though i faintly remember wishing I had something better to do.. like homework. A note to self: be careful for what you wish for!). But nothing beats morning walks in half moon bay. Or staying up late watching the lights from planes fly into SF bay. Cigarette breaks with friends, 4am card games, Bj's pizookies and beer. I sometimes wonder if the trade was worth it...

I need to make it worth it.

Every Slut is Someone's Sister

just a thought...

A year of Firsts, Lasts, and Do-overs

I realized that I have less than two months to learn from the triumphs and mistrials of 2009. I better get started.

Edit 11.22

I'll try to go back to the beginning.

I started 2009 off drunk in a random club surrounded by 200 strangers, my mother, her crazy 40 year old friend, Holly (that dressed too young for her age), and Holly's son. He was a typical southern Cali boy. We had worked together before, we were friends, but there was no physical or emotional connection. No connection at all really.
Then my mom and stepdad left the club. I stayed there, dancing with strangers.

I woke up on the foot of a hotel bed. Happy New Year hangover.

Three days later I talked to my ex. Big mistake, but an incredible eye opening experience.

"Why am I here in so much pain, and alone? Why aren't you here for me like I was there for you in the darkest times?! YOU OWE THIS TO ME!"

What I was really trying to say was, "You did this to me. And now I want you to feel as bad as I do."

On January 5th I realized that wasn't for me to decide. And so I cut my losses and found that being alone was way better than thinking I could depend on someone who made me feel worse. I'd rather be 1 than -1.

"I don't make you feel anything. You do that all on your own."

First lesson of 2009. Learned. Check.

Edit 11.23

It's November 23 and I'm up at 1am drinking watered down Jager on the rocks in my pjs. This is not at all unlike the time I mixed Meyers rum with Tampico one afternoon at my dads house last spring.

I was desperate for a glass of wine or anything that could take me into the 2nd dimension. I wanted to draw the house I lived in and the people I was surrounded by. Mostly, I just wanted to be surrounded by people.

So after discovering that I had already devoured my two bottles of wine that I got from a date back in 2008 (I believe I had finished atleast one bottle to myself in early January as we celebrated my stepsisters 20th birthday- we'll get to that later), I had to use my resources. Only problem is my dad and stepmom don't drink. It's really weird living in a household that doesnt drink alcohol. Not that my mother was even close to being an alcoholic... I just think sometimes it's necessary. Especially on family get togethers and occasions such as this.

So I found the Meyers Rum and searched the refridgerator for a mixer but found only milk and "pink" flavored Tampico. I really have no idea what the Tampico was supposed to taste like, but I imagined if pink lawn flamingos could be brought to life and then "juiced," they'd taste something like pink Tampico.

This, I always thought, was a very depressing day for me. I even have pictures on my facebook documenting it. It was sometime after I got my "bad" haircut (it wasn't really bad, just WAY too short for my liking). I remember texting a bunch of random people in a desperation for human contact. Though i know I have some pretty cool friends, it's usually on these days that I feel most alone.

If, Ands, and Buts.

If this was important...

But it's not. So I wont bother being bothered.

Are we made to feel different because we truly are, or because thats the way people see us?

Its You, Me, and the World

I'm not really sure what this is all for.

"I don't know anymore,
what it's for,
I'm not even sure
If there is anyone
who is in the sun.

Will you help me to understand?"

~Joseph Arthur

No one is listening. And that doesn't really bother me. But I'm not even entertaining myself.

Eeeeeeeeehhhhhhhhhh... fuck it. :)


I worked at Elephant Bar Friday night, as I do pretty much every Friday night. This place usually generates my new attitude of hatred for people who let me work my ass off trying to please them as they know the whole time they're only going to give me $3 dollars on a $50 dollar check. I know this. They know this. But I still try so hard to please.

One of my tables, God bless them, wanted to express in every way possible that they were very low maintenance, and as long as they would be there I wouldn't have to worry about pleasing them. They were an older couple, she wore a lavender colored turtle neck with an oversized jeweled cardigan and thick square shaped glasses. He was a bit oversized himself, in his tucked in striped blue polo shirt and khakis. Typically, our guests with these looks are generally not outgoing, not happy to be entertained by their server jumping through hoops to please them...basically they seem not at all happy with life. And this unhappiness clouds their vision and makes it virtually impossible for them to have any ounce of empathy.
These are the kind of people that react in this such way:

"I'm so sorry folks, the kitchen is running a little behind. Your dinner should arrive shortly"

-sit there, silently, and without even looking up at me they nod.

Or

"Do your lamb shanks taste delicious?"

-yes, thank you.

"Those are my favorite, I love how tender the lamb is, and the sauce is SO good, isn't it?"

-without looking up from their meal "yes"

... oooookkk then. enjoy.


This is what I was expecting from this couple as I walked past them carrying food in my hands to the table behind them saying, "Hi there folks, I will be right with you shortly."

On my second trip back, before I was able to introduce myself they gave me this disclaimer:

"Oh sweetie, you have alot of tables and you're doing a great job. Please don't worry about us and help others."

... um, worrying about you IS my job.

At first I didn't think too much of it. But then as I went to refill their glasses they kept saying, "Please dear, go help the others. You're way too busy..."

The truth of the matter was, I really wasn't that busy at all. Was I treating them like I was in a huge rush? Every time I went to check on them I slowed my speech down more and more, took very slow strides towards their table. I thought I might have scared them as I walked by with food, giving them the impression that I was so busy, I just might crumble into a hundred pieces right there before them. Or possibly pull out a gun and go on a shooting spree.

I still don't know why they felt they had to keep telling me NOT to help them. And it wasn't in a "you're bugging me, leave me eat in peace" sort of way. They didn't even have their food. Nor were they engaged in conversation. And their tone most certainly didn't suggest that they were unfriendly or lacked the capacity to have a 20 second conversation as I check up on them while they wait for their food.

Before they left, the rather large gentleman loosely grabbed my arm and said, "Thank you, you've been so pleasant. You have such a beautiful personality."

I used to get that alot at Burlingame, but people in Sacramento don't generally give a shit enough to tell you things like this and really mean it. They must be from out of town, I concluded. Either way, though it didn't make up for the whole night of people taking advantage of my kindness, it was nice to know atleast someone appreciates it sometimes.

I thought about this couple the whole night, long after they left. Then saturday, the very next morning, I woke up early as usual and headed to my other job, Starbucks.

My coworkers at Elephant Bar think I'm a ray of fucking sunshine, but if they saw me here, they'd think I was on crack. I up the peppyness, up the smiles, up the attitude. I'm usually just happy to be there and not serving tables. I'm happy that I only have to please these customers for 5 minutes each. We can keep our distances, and there's less room for error, less room for them to be pissed off about something.

The lady in the purple turtleneck came in about 2 hours into my shift to get a tall coffee and a reduced fat coffee cake. I had a brief conversation with her at the register as I debated bringing up our previous Ebar experience. I knew she didn't recognize me. But I wanted her to know I recognized her. That she made an impression.

"Oh yes dear, I knew you looked familiar. You work here too?!"

I explained to her that this was my "day" job. That together both jobs pay the bills while going to school. Starving student. You know.

"Oh my...and you stay so pleasant..."

"yup, I've had my coffee!" which is what I usually say when people at Sbux as me why I'm so cheery. And 8 times out of 10 I haven't had any coffee at all.

"Oh my goodness..." she mumbles walking away with her coffee. After we were ten feet apart she turned around to look at me, and I smiled at her as the next customer proceeded with his order. She idled for a moment in the middle of the cafe and then left.


Something very spiritual happened in those five seconds she stood in the cafe. I'm not sure if she felt it, but I did.

It sorta leaves me wondering if she went home and told her husband that she saw me. Or perhaps maybe she still thinks about me. Maybe she's a christian, and she prays that I don't have to kill myself being nice to people 10 hours a day five days a week.

Ah yes, this is what I'd like to believe. That she prays for me. That atleast someone does.

crock pot betty

I busted out Aunties old crock pot tonight. And by old, I really mean new.

She bought it two years ago, almost three. She asked me to take her to Target because she absolutely needed a blender and new crock pot. Both of which she never used before she died. Today is the very first time the crock pot has been used, and it smells of burned plastic and chile verde.


Its been three hours already. One more to go.

I wonder if my generation will be the last to use crock pots. I've already noticed that majority of the people I know in my age group that cook have never actually used one. I think we've grown up in a time where we strive for instant gratification. Greater, Better, Faster. 30 minute meals. 25 minute meals. 10 minute meals. Why wait any longer?


Cooking is a lost art in American Culture. I'm moving to France.


And I'm taking Aunties crockpot with me.

Where does the hunger go?

You're hungry. You eat. And then you're not hungry. Where does the hunger go?- Asks a snickers commercial.

The hunger cycle is always repeating itself. It's a never ending void we will be filling and refilling for the rest of our lives.

I was standing in the kitchen chopping onions and bell peppers. Into the bowl of eggs and milk they go. Pepper. Salt. Garlic. And some tapatio, because I know you like it.

You enjoyed your 11am eggs. But it's almost noon and you have to go.

"Are you ok? You sound sad," you said.

I'm just waiting for the two week hunger.

You're packing up the rest of your laundry. Unplugging your phone charger. Gathering your things and setting them by the door. Your hopeless half smile is killing me right now.

I get up to help you load your car. I need to carry something in my hands to balance the emptiness.

You start your car and I assume my place on the front stairs and watch you drive away as I do every other week. I didn't cry, but I wanted to. It was just too warm of a day in November.

"Are you ok?" a stranger walking down the sidewalk asks.

"Uh, yeah...I'm just enjoying the weather."

"Oh. You looked sad. Well, have a nice day."

Weird.

I'm hungry. Starving. Time to eat alone.

how

I sometimes wonder how or why I was created to live throughout this period in time. If was born sooner, I may not have had to live through this economic downturn.

Boo whoo. Life isn't fair.

Damn you consumer economy.

Vivian and the Tortoise

Last week I went to say goodbye to the house.
We had some unfinished business.
I didn't leave on my own terms. You know how things go.

Everything was gone, except a few candles and some real estate books my mother kept lying around. "Everything I Touch Turns to Sold"

I know it wasn't my home.
But you were still there.
You were there like a patch of fog on an early Sunday morning in SF.
I walked through you into the backyard.
No dogs.
No noise.
And then I saw it.
Daisies.
They had grown right where...
I looked around to see if there were anymore more daisies like them.
none.


I'm not sure if you were ever comfortable with that spot where I kept you
Or if you just wanted to explore
but like a little girl with a bird
I could have suffocated you with two much kindness
letting you walk only so far
but not far enough.
I wanted you with me.
Did you resent me for that?


I walked over to the daisies.
They grew right where you died
You must have known they were my favorite.

Of course you did.

If I Could Would You?

I forgot what it was like to see your face. Then today I saw it in a photograph that I didn't recognize. Wearing a silk baby blue shirt I've never felt. With arms skinnier than I remembered. And eyes darker than I've seen in a long time.

But same goddamn smirk.

I forgot why I never come to this place anymore. And then I saw your picture and I remembered.

You can't play basketball with me in the park. The weather is too cold in October. I asked you in August and all I got was silence. It's a little late to suggest a game of 1 on 1. The ball is in my court now, and I'm traveling with it.


I'll visit her by myself from now on. Thank you and have a great life.

Their aint no easy way, no there aint no easy way out

bad luck follows me like the plague, and infects everyone in its path.

Have I become so immune? Or is it that I am sick and do not see?

Or perhaps I draw myself to those with the disease. I, the positive force, reacting with the negative force. Or do they attract themselves to me?

The fact of the matter is: shit happens. And it used to always be to me. But not anymore.

Was this a set up? Was I chosen to learn to get up to help those that fall?

They're falling like flies and I have nothing to say. So what then? Why did you give me this ability to relate, if only to have to feel their pain, if only to have to know their grief and stand aside helplessly.

Wow. Good fucking plan. True master of intelligent design.

I know you told me to stay away from darkness. But even in the brightest of rooms there is always a dark corner or closet to hide in.


Angel, come play. Because I don't want to be the healer any longer.

I love this weather, it's the perfect storm. Just keep it coming in its perfect form.

Long afloat on shipless oceans
I did all my best to smile
til your singing eyes and fingers
Drew me loving to your isle

And you sang
Sail to me
Sail to me, let me enfold you
Here I am
Here I am...
Waiting to hold you

-Jim Buckley, Song to the Siren

I was totally unprepared for the storm today. But it was ready for me.
The trees outside my window scratched their nails on my roof as their branches wailed in the wind helplessly. It was 7:23am, already a rough start after a long night.

I didn't mind so much that the rain soaked through three layers of clothes from my car to my first class. Nor did I mind that despite my efforts to straighten my hair this morning, my teal beanie was now soaked, displaying the frizzy unrulyness that was underneath.

I dont mind that I can feel the cold draft next to the library windows as I watch students hurriedly rush to their classrooms to get out of the rain. My iceburg fingertips do not bother me.

Let the cold numb me, I think to myself.


I passed by 4 broken umbrellas laying on the sidewalks on my way to health class. Six if you count the one I saw in some guy's hands, and the pink polka dot one I saw break right in front of me as a gust of wind picked it up out of a woman's hands.
Bring. It. On.

It's October, everyone. Anything goes.

What an epic weekend, if I do say so myself. Late night shifts, followed by birthday celebrations, followed by early morning coffee runs for Harvest Sacramento, followed by early work, followed by getting dizzy and nauseated, followed by rushing home to throw up, followed by a throwing up of words and feelings with the roommie.

And that was just Fri night-Sat morning.

I want to walk outside and get picked up by the wind. I want it to drag me through the bushes and ivy leaves. I want it to take me to a meadow, a plateau, and brush me along the tall grass. It'd leave me there, and the sun would come out and shine on my face. And the rain would stop. Would I be happy then?