Can't you just fix me?

On finally getting fixed

2007-12-05T15:53:00.000-04:00

So, it really has been far too long since I've written an entry worth it's salt. Part of the reason, if I'm going to be honest and fair to myself, is the fact that (and I'm going to write this in Spanish/Puerto Rican), este semestre ha sido tan algarete y tan random, que no he tenido mucho tiempo pa' sentarme aquí y escribir algo que valga la pena de leer. I mean, honestly, I'm not sure whether this half year or last year's half year was this random. But, to be completely truthful, this has been great. New best friends, love, sex, hanging out and drinking, enjoying the good times, dragging ourselves past the bad times...so goes life, and I'm really loving it.

In that respect then, I'm wondering if maybe the other reason I haven't really posted a new entry in over several blue moons is because maybe...I don't need to anymore. When I started this blog last May, I did so with the thought that, on the inside, I felt like a very broken person. I wasn't sure what exactly was wrong, or how to fix it, but one day, sitting in front of my computer and remembering that I had a Blogger account, I thought to myself, wouldn't it be a good concept to write a blog based on how to fix a young adult female like myself (because really, I wasn't such an adolescent anymore)? And that's how I started. I'd write about anything that came to mind, be it situations I found myself in, topics that I felt compelled to write about, or how I was feeling on the inside.

But I'm not doing that anymore. I haven't written any humorously cynical entries about, say, asshole bus drivers in San Juan. I haven't written about this experiment set for May 2008, that, if it works, will create limitless energy for humanity. And I haven't written about how I've finally found what could be the first true love of my life (because much as I'd love to be with him for a very long time, life is life, and things don't always go my way). So when I think about it...maybe whatever was broken on the inside, be it my self-esteem or my confidence or my faith in how kickass life can be, has finally gotten fixed. I'm fixed.

Wish I could figure out how that happened though, since I didn't even notice. Kind of like AMV Hell 4. It came out in September and I found out about it yesterday. Ah well. I don't really need to know.

So, maybe this is the end of this blog. But no need to lose faith; maybe I'll start a new one soon, with a brand-new premise. I like blogging a lot, so that's never out of the question. To those who still follow this, thanks for reading. It's been a fun ride.

On having a belief

2007-09-14T19:57:00.000-04:00

My goodness, I can't remember the last time I put up an entry. I do apologize. To be honest, since this blog isn't meant to be personal (as I've always stated), I didn't really have anything to write about, which I could consider important. But before writing, I'll be nice and update slightly on life. Summer was partially boring and partially busy for me, since I took class half the time. I also spent time with old friends and talking to my newer ones more from college. And, I got started on getting into the routine of working out. It's done marvels, though I've skipped this week since I'm sick. But that doesn't stop me from feeling ever so slightly guilty. I'll go back starting Monday though, since by then, I'm sure to be better.

As for this semester, I'm probably going to shoot myself in a month's time. I did the suicide move and took six classes: one department class, two concentration classes, one minor class, one "take this or you don't fucking graduate" class, and one class that I don't need but wanted to take. I just finished a seven-hour study session for two tests I have next week, so you can imagine how the work load's been. But I still have time to involve myself in random things with friends and drink and such. And to even date. So no, I'm not single anymore. I kinda miss the single life, but my guy's great, so it's not a terrible loss.

So anyway, a recent conversation with someone has spurred me onto this particular train of thought. The topic was, of course, about religion and spirituality. At the moment, to avoid confusion and long speeches, I simply said I was agnostic. So, of course the person remarked at the hypocrisy of this, since agnostics are generally believed to neither believe nor disapprove of the existence of God and such. But I really wasn't in the mood to argue or to explain my beliefs in detail, so I just dropped it. Besides, we're all entitled to our own beliefs.

What, then, are mine in specifics? Well, for easy reference, here they are in list form.

I do not believe in the institution of religion. From my perspective, it has done nothing good for society. Rather, it creates fanatics, gives false hope, and is the basis of terrible discrimination. Not to mention quite a few wars, including the current "war" on terrorism, however fake said war is. I know that all three things can be created through other means (this island's political climate is a perfect example of how fanatical people can become as a cause of individual politicians). But, religion, as I understand it, is meant to guide people, and it just does such a lackluster job at it.
I think that neither myself nor anyone else has the power to prove or disprove the existence of a higher being, be it God or whatever else it is. If something does exist, we'll never know it, and maybe it's better that way.
Regardless of #2, I am a proponent of determinism. My main reason for this is because, in the debate of free will vs. destiny, I find free will to be way too chaotic to have any real basis in the universe. Everything to the existence of this universe to the relationships we make really just don't seem like they can happen at random. This would also mean that I hold great value to the past, since the past determines today's society, and the chain goes on like that.
As I've mentioned before in past entries, I'm also a supporter of existentialism. Though the idea goes against determinism, the way I believe in it doesn't go against my beliefs at all. Everything that happens might have a reason and might be pre-determined, but I fully believe that it's up to each human being to decide what to make of this and their lives. Basically, we take the events that come at us, and we decide how to interpret it and how to go about it. In this way, I also place higher value on the individual's beliefs and not on society's beliefs and social constructions.
Finally, I think it would now go without saying that, in a choice of religion, philosophy and science, I fall into the philosophy group. Asides reasons mentioned, I just can't support a religion because so much is based on theories that are usually not up for change (and depending, up for debate either). And so much just isn't based on reason and logic that there's no way I can look at religion as a guide for myself. As for science, while it appeals to my logic, it doesn't provide me with any basis of sustaining myself.

To summarize the last part, I'll put an example: the existence of cockroaches. If I'm going to use the Christian version of how the world was created, then why the fuck didn't Noah squish them out of existence? Really, they're disgusting and have no use except to survive nuclear winter. Now let's take science. Go on Darwin, evolutionize your way out of THAT one. Well, it's not that philosophy can properly answer this stupid example either, but I just wanted to put what I just wrote into layman terms.

At any rate, what's more important to me now isn't whether God exists or not. It's surviving the semester.

On freedom of speech

2007-05-30T17:35:00.000-04:00

I would like to direct your attention for a moment elsewhere on the blogosphere.

Currently, a witch hunt of sorts is occuring all over LiveJournal, which, being prompted by Warriors for Innocence (the link is here, but please don't click, there are rumors that the site has a lot of malware and IP address tracking on it), has decided to purge all accounts and communities that are even remotely related to pedophilia, in an attempt to track down potential sexual predators. Because anything I summarize will most likely be incomplete, I direct you to this link over here for further information.

Here now, I will cross-post my opinion from my own LiveJournal. The original entry can be found over here.

So what the hell, all of a sudden there's a witch hunt going on 'round LJ? O_o wtf mate. From what I've just read up on, apparently the targets are fandoms and RP comms that have anything to do with stuff like pedophilia and other sexual subjects prohibited by the United States law and such. I haven't read everything, nor do I quite understand it all, but to my knowledge, the Internet, up until this very minute, is entirely free game, in the sense that it is not bound by the laws of any country. Which makes sense, because even if a website is based in a particular country, all it means is that the people behind the site are of [insert] nationality. This is, of course, simply taking out other variables in which laws may apply in the mix and soley concentrating on the Internet.

However, the main problem here is the fact that the freedom of speech amendment, an American amendment, is being horribly violated here. Blogs are a current trend that are beginning to extend out of the Internet, and subtlely replacing common forms of things like journalism and, well, freedom of speech. To start a witch hunt against people simply because they are interested in [insert sexual fetish], own LJ comms related to it, and have it listed in their interests is a matter of an individual's right to express themselves. In a world that's increasingly becoming smaller and more well-watched (hello Big Brother), the Internet's becoming a safe haven for any and everyone.

Take me for example, I'm an anti-government radical who dislikes capitalism and favors socialism. I'm also in favor of freedom of sexuality, since I myself am slowly realizing and learning that I do not love or like based on gender alone. Take that into the real world and what would happen? I'd get jailed under the Patriot Act and slandered for not being sexually "normal". On the Internet, though, I can express these thoughts freely, and that is exactly what's going under attack, the ability to freely express oneself. And LJ's team is too much of a pussy to fight back against that WFI group making them do this witch hunt. Might the WFI's intentions be good? Sure, what the hell. But they're going about it the wrong way. If they're trying to catch sexual predators and pedophiles and whatnot, the last thing you should be doing is persecuting anyone who just so happens to have it in their interests and participate in comms dealing with it. Why? Because most of them are not pedophiles at all, they just like it in their fandoms and fanfics.

So congratulations, instead of sniffing out the real sexual predators, you've made them go into deeper hiding. Let's hear it for misinformed people, Big Brother and people who refuse to properly inform themselves about the real matters at hand, because they sure as hell are winning the battle. Oh, and let's also congratulate our democratic government, they're doing a fantastic job of limiting and cutting away people's rights to "protect".

I could go on rambling, but I've said my thoughts. Once again, wtf mate.

(And note, as I said, I didn't read up everything, but am quite sure I got the gist of what's going on. If I'm wrong, please inform me.)

To summarize, what're the main problems here?

Violation of the primary right to freedom of speech. No, I don't like pedophilia fandoms, or anything of the sort. However, just because someone likes to read fanfictions and discuss oddball pairings does not mean they're potential sexual predators in disguise.
LiveJournal has most definitely crossed the line, by letting themselves be bullied by a third party site, without notifying anyone of this ridiculous witch hunt beforehand.
Finally, all of this constitutes as a violation of LiveJournal's Terms of Service.

All in all, congratulations Big Brother, you score yet another point.

On moving forward

2007-05-25T21:46:00.000-04:00

So. It's been...a month, since I last wrote anything in this blog. I do apologize. I'm not sure if I've got an audience reading this anymore since I don't update this as regularly as I should, but this blog does exist for a reason. That reason...er, being to...uh, write and uh...stuff. Boy that was eloquent.

Anyhow, I've been busy. Among other things, I've been taking class, getting wasted, working out, flirting around, watching movies, relaxing, hanging out with my friends, and overall being your average college student/nerd who's also one of the guys. I didn't really intend for it to happen, but during the course of this semester, I've suddenly found myself becoming the "alpha-female" of the group I hang out with, which is usually a bunch of guys. I have female friends too, but I don't hang out with most of them, just a few. I don't really mind though, since I've long considered myself to not really have a mental gender per se. All I have is a sexual preference towards a particular gender, with occasional interest in the other gender. I don't know if this good or bad, since it doesn't really land me any decent dates, but I suppose it could be worse. I at least give it credit for contributing to my creative and out-of-the-box way of thinking.

So, as of now until the end of June, I'm at home on vacation. Much as I like my scholarly and social life, this is a much-needed break I needed. I did manage to do exceedingly well this semester, passing everything expect Estadísticas 1 (which I dropped) with an A. Kickass, if I do say so myself. But I also wanted this time to really sit and think about...well, what else, the one man I've fought tooth and nail to move on from all semester, my lovely ex. It's not to say I wasn't doing anything about this already. I moved back home for physical distance, I cut off contact, I cut my hair short so as to symbolically spit into his belief that women with short hair are dykes, I've hooked up with a few random men to prove to myself that I could be with men without emotional attatchments, I've made new friends, I started working out...the vast majority of what I did, and didn't do, this semester was so I could move the fuck on.

Yet, something was still amiss, despite my efforts. I didn't know what though. To be sure, I held (hold?) a huge grudge against him, and couldn't even think about him without wishing nothing but horrible misery on his existence. But no matter what I did, I just couldn't feel free from him. It was like an invisible chain tied me to him and his memory, the memories I had of him. I suppose it was there for a lot of reasons, but mainly, it was because he was the first guy I could honestly say I loved. Hurrah for true love. But he meant a lot of things to me, and getting over it took more effort than I would've ever liked. I just didn't get myself, really.

So, 'member when I mentioned getting wasted among the activities I mentioned up there? Yeah, so, a couple of weekends ago, to help celebrate the end of the semester, one of the things me and my friends did was buy alcohol and go to one of my friend's apartment and get drunk. Long story short, I did more than 12 shots of 151 rum, along with Smirnoffs and daiquiri and got totally smashed. The reason, though I wouldn't realize it until later, was because I found out that the guy I liked, Gian, had a girl of sorts. They were constantly making out. Much as I liked the girl, I wanted to shove her down some escalators. So I was trying to numb the pain out, go self-destructive tendencies. Anyway, during all that, I called up my ex, and finally said what I'd been dying to tell him for months: that I hate him and his guts and that I wish he'd just do me a favor and die off.

The next day, sobering up and whatnot, I remembered this (and a few other convoluted pieces, because shortly after that, I passed out). And I thought about it a little. I realized that, really, I wasn't actually mad at him anymore, nor did I hold that much of a grudge against him. In fact, all I was hating was the fact that my pride was hurt, and that my feelings were torn to shreds. And I realized, man I'm stupid, this is the invisible chain binding me down? All at once, that chain broke off and I became free as a bird once again, the way I should be. It felt (and still feels) pretty nice.

Since then, I've shaped up a bit. I'm not sleeping with anyone at all, not until I can be sure I'm in a good, actual relationship with a great guy. I'm taking my health seriously, doing all that I can to eat right and keep my blood sugar levels stable. I'm working out harder than ever, and the results are starting to show since I'm shedding the weight I gained this semester from my rampant drinking. And, once again, I feel like I can take on the world and fight anyone and anything till I make it to the top. I think my chances of getting married or being in another relationship are slim to none...but it doesn't matter too much to me at the moment anymore. I'll deal. Life is, after all, no cabaret.

On another note, I saw the third Pirates of the Caribbean movie. Twice. It's that good, I swear it is. I might write a review tomorrow or the day after.

Finally, I believe today is the one year anniversary of this dear blog of mine. I'm still alive and typing. That's always a good sign.

On being me

2007-04-28T22:18:00.000-04:00

I'm a nerd. Hands down.

I love things like Star Wars, some anime, some manga, all that stuff. I think I always have. I can sit here and talk about the Star Wars movies, and I could probably list off a few anime and manga series worth watching and reading.

I love love love video games. I've always been playing them, and I've always liked it. I play RPGs, fighters, weird stuff, shooters, platformers, action-adventure, strategy, rhythm, old-school, anything. It's fun, and I love playing multiplayer even more.

I am a product of the internet. It's not essential in my life, or something I can't live without. But it's definitely a source of entertainment for me. And I'm not afraid to admit that quite a few significant things have happened to me as a cause.

I love music. It's been a part of my life. I can't go a day without listening to something. My tastes have changed over the years, slowly molding to a like of general rock overall, mostly punk rock, some industrial and some experimental. I need to hear something with a beat, with instruments, loud and fast and hard. Some days, I need to hear something soft and sweet. Whatever the need, I just need to hear something.

I love writing. I don't think I've always been exceptionally talented until high school. But now that I've grasped the secret and discovered what my strengths in it are, I love it. I love the creative process of thinking up a story, its characters and the world they live in. I like being able to paint a picture with words. I like being able to bring people into a different world, and putting them into a character's shoes.

I love acting. It will always be my passion, no matter where life takes me. I get no better thrill than standing on stage and becoming someone else entirely. I love convincing the audience that I am that character. I love being able to project thoughts and emotions and a specific personality. I love letting who I am take a break for awhile while I decide to be someone else. I love impressing the crowd. I just love it all.

I'm not religious at all. I don't believe in the institution of religion. Who or what I believe in is my business. If God indeed exists, then we'll have our talk when the time comes.

I do not associate myself with political parties, ever. I associate myself with political ideals and theories, and I support people who can match those the best.

I am a tomboy. I think I was just born that way. I like guy stuff, like games and computers and joking and drinking and screwing around. I like being one of the guys.

Though I have female friends I love dearly, overall I can't stand the female sex. The female sex is superficial and constantly working to be a certain way socially, and I don't like that. I don't think fashion's necessary, I don't think I need a guy to be worth something, I'm not a slut for believing in casual sex and fuck buddies. I can think for myself, and I wouldn't trade that for anything.

I am a bitch. No getting around that. If I don't like you, I'll tell you. If you're a jackass who should get a life, I'll tell you. I'll insult you, I'll give you sarcastic responses, I can cut you with my sharp tongue and fast wit. And I won't care.

But, I'm also the nicest person you'll meet if you're on my good side. I will put myself out there for my friends, always. If you've got my trust, then I've definitely got your back. And I will be loyal.

I don't really hate anyone. I just dislike.

I have big dreams and ambitions, and I know I'll achieve them.

I look up to my older brother, always have. He's helped me not be as much of a fuck-up as I could've been.

My friends are my family. No matter if I've known them for a month or for years.

There's nothing I like more than being able to laze around, with no worries about what might come ahead.

Honestly, I think love can go fuck itself. There's no such thing as the one. I can content myself with having good friendships. That's more important in the long run than a relationship that falls apart in the end and destroys what once was.

To contradict what I just wrote, I am still capable of feeling things that are more than just friendship for people.

I like two people, which I realized the other day. If I could have them both, I would. But I think it would be best we just remain friends.

I'm not ashamed to admit my mistakes.

I'm not ashamed to admit that going to Chicago wasn't the best idea ever. But I also admit that it was the best thing to do, for all the reasons I wouldn't have expected. I proved my point, I learned that I'm not a fuck-up, and I discovered that I have the ability to change myself.

I tripped and fell, hard. I'm not ashamed to admit that for a couple of months, it felt as though I'd been left at the roadside, barely able to walk, and with almost no desire to live. But, what little will to live I had left helped me slowly, surely, crawl slowly back, until I could finally stand up again, head high and ready to live again.

It took awhile, but I finally put the pieces of my heart back together.

I have a slight distaste for humanity but I like being with people.

I'm a lot of things. I'm a bitch, stubborn, sarcastic, aloof, fun-loving, introspective, outgoing, stupid, silly, intelligent, apathetic, loyal, witty, cute, flirty, funny.

At the end of the day, though, when I kick off my shoes and throw myself on my bed, I'm just me. Love me or hate me, I don't give a fuck.

On writing

2007-04-21T20:29:00.000-04:00

So I recently completed a new short story, and I figured it'd be cool to share. Please note, if anyone steals it and I find out, I will reign misery on you. It's already copyrighted under my pen name over at Fiction Press.

Ice Cream

I could hear a noise in the background, the same one for the fifth time in a row. I turned around. 7:05am, read my clock. Guess it ignores the fact that I hit the snooze button after awhile. But goddammit, I really didn’t want to get up. Then again, when do I ever want to get up? It’s the same old thing, day after fucking day. I looked up towards the window blinds. Already the sun was starting to peek in. As always, the sun refuses to go against my own wishes. But I’d already had it up to here with that alarm clock, so I figured that it was either get up and finally start the day or break the clock, and I didn’t really want to waste more money on more clocks. So I shut off the alarm, and got up from the bed.

As I looked on the date of the calendar, I saw that it was the sixteenth of July. I tried my best to remember what was so important about today, but nothing seemed to light a spark in my head. It can’t be that important if I can’t remember, I thought to myself. So I simply shrugged it off and went about the tedious process of dressing and eating. Though I couldn’t remember why today might be important, I did manage to realize that I’d been sleeping for one day straight. I guess that’s what happens when you come home completely fucked up from that previous night’s wild adventures. That’s all my life seems to revolve around nowadays: sleeping, trying to go to class or work, and getting fucked up. It’s all I can bring myself to do anymore.

But finally, I fixed the last piercing back where it belonged, grabbed my bag, and walked out the door. I might not have much to look forward to, but maybe the effort might count for something.

Well, that’s what I thought. As I arrived to work, I noticed that something was out of place, though at first, I wasn’t sure what it might be. My coworkers regarded me differently, almost as though I didn’t belong there anymore. That couldn’t be a good sign. As I put my things away, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

“Can we talk, Alex?”

This really wasn’t a good sign, but then again, there was no way I could weasel out of this one. For a few weeks, I’d been hearing that the manager wanted to speak to me (or more like, corner me and kill me for all the times I’ve skipped out on work), so I’d been trying to dodge the guy. But it seems that today, he finally caught me.

“Have a seat,” he said to me as I entered his office, gesturing towards the empty chair. I took his suggestion and sat down. “Look,” he said as he sat down in his own chair, “I’m going to be frank. Yesterday was the tenth time you haven’t shown for work without even excusing yourself. I can’t have this. I hired you because your sister begged to me practically on her knees.” He took a long, deep sigh, and shook his head. “But I can’t keep you on anymore. I’m going to have to let you go.”

I looked down at my Converse the whole time. To be honest, it’s not as though I hadn’t seen this coming. And yet, even as I told myself I needed to start being responsible and start going to work, I just couldn’t bring myself to. Here, then, was where it all came crashing down over me. So it was a wake-up call. I was finally starting to wake up and open my eyes a little. But it still didn’t seem so bad to me. It was summer, and class would start in about a month. It should matter to me that I no longer had a job, but all I did was shrug it off.

As I walked out of the building, I reached into my pocket for my cellphone. If anything, I did feel bad for my sister, so I figured that it should at least be me to tell her I’d just been fired.

“Hello?”

“Hey, sis.”

“Oh, hey Alex. What’s wrong? Shouldn’t you be at work?”

I sighed. This wasn’t going to be pretty. “Yeah, about that. Uh, look…I’m really sorry, I am, but…well, I got fired.”

There was silence for awhile. I checked the phone’s screen to be sure the call hadn’t been dropped.

“Alex, you know I do my best for the both of us. And it took me an unbelievable amount of persuasion to convince Kurt to hire you. And this is how you repay me? Look, you know what, forget it. Don’t call me anymore, I’m sick of this. What on earth am I going to do with you?” Click. I slipped my phone back in my pocket.

That’s okay sis. I don’t know what to do with me either. So if you don’t know, it’s not a problem. What am I supposed to do with myself? I just didn’t see the point in…well, in the day to day living, in life, in anything. How am I supposed to figure this out if I can’t bring myself to care? I wish I could care a little about something, but it just hasn’t been the same.

Well, I thought, maybe I should grab some food. That might make me feel better. I looked into my wallet, to see how much I had. Except that I didn’t have any money on me at all. I even checked the change pocket. Nothing. I just remembered that today was pay day, but since I hadn’t shown my face to work in a week, I probably didn’t even have a paycheck. So not only did I not have a job anymore, but I had no money. And I know my debit card had nothing on it either. Great, this was just great. I could go back to my dorm, but why bother? There was nothing to do there, and I probably had little to no edible food.

So, I was jobless, broke, and it seemed that I was now sister-less. At least my parents aren’t alive, because otherwise they could disown me too. And I didn’t even want to think about Marie.

After walking for awhile, I finally decided to sit down on a bench. I looked at my watch. It read 5:18 in the afternoon. I guess I’d been drowning myself in my self-inflicted misery for so long that I lost track of time. I wasn’t even exactly sure where I was in the city. Looking at a sign or two would fix that, but I didn’t really care at the moment. All I wanted to do was sit and just stop thinking. If I kept thinking about it all, I just knew that it’d really come crashing in on me.

Suddenly, I felt a tap on my shoulder. “Here.” I looked up. A young woman was standing next to me, smiling kindly and holding out a cone of ice cream. I wondered what time it was, since the sun was already half-done setting over the tall city buildings, but honestly, I didn’t care to even look at my watch anymore. What was far more intriguing at the moment was this random woman, who was pretty damn good-looking to begin with, offering me some free ice cream. Well, I was broke and hungry, so maybe this was just a little bit of luck. Or maybe the ice cream was poisoned. So I reached out and grabbed the strawberry ice cream that was seemingly being offered to me for free.

“Thanks,” I said quietly.

“I’ve been watching you sitting out here by yourself and you looked pretty sad,” she said as she sat down next to me. “And ice cream is always great to make people feel better.” Paying a bit more attention, she looked like she could be in her mid-twenties, young and vibrant. It was the total opposite of how I felt about life at the moment. “So tell me, what are you doing here anyway?”

I shrugged. “Wasting time. I don’t really have anything else to do, to be honest.”

“Come on, you look like you’re younger than me, how can you say something like that?”

“Well, it’s not like I’ve got anything to live for.”

Silence hung in the air for a few moments. I wondered if maybe my intense depression was clouding things up and scaring her off. I didn’t really care though. She asked, so I answered. This ice cream was pretty damn good though.

“Did you lose it?”

I looked at her. “Huh? Lose what?”

“Your reason for living…did you lose it somewhere?”

I hesitated. The answer probably hurt more to say than anything else, because I could never bring myself to say it. “A long time ago I did. But that’s done and over with. It’s not like it matters anymore.” And I realized I still wasn’t ready to really say it. I didn’t have the courage to yet.

Lifting a hand, she brushed some hair out of my eyes. The nice thing about my hair was that it just fell into place no matter what. Life, however, had proved to be the exact opposite of my hair. “Have you tried to find a new reason yet?”

“No. I can’t seem to find something.”

“Well, that doesn’t mean you should quit. As long as you’re still walking, talking and breathing, that means you’re not allowed to quit and stop trying. The reason you’re looking for might not be all that apparent right now, but if you’re able to sit here, eating free ice cream, wasting a valuable day away, you can also find your answer.”

I wondered. Had I not quit already? Somehow, I could’ve sworn that I’d just thrown the towel in on that day, giving myself up for dead pretty much. What should stop me from not quitting yet?

“How’s the ice cream?” she asked.

“It’s pretty good,” I said as I finished the last bit of it.

“If you can still enjoy something as simple as ice cream, you’ve still got it in you to find your reasons and your own answers.” She stood up, smiling again. “So promise me you’ll come by my shop again,” she said, pointing in front of her. The entire time I’d been sitting in front of an ice cream store, and I hadn’t even noticed.

I smiled. “Sure.” I felt my pocket to see if I had any change. Wishful thinking… I thought to myself. “Would you happen to have any change you could lend me? It’s for the bus home. I don’t want to walk…”

She laughed. “Here,” she said, handing me a few quarters. “That should get you where you need to go.”

“Thanks,” I said as I stood up. “This’ll really help me out.” I walked away, towards the next bus stop, waving behind me. Oddly enough, I felt a bit more lighter than usual. Or maybe the ice cream was just that good. I guess I would probably need to come back eventually.

I pushed the glass door open, not thinking about it too much. A few days had passed, and somehow, I’d felt compelled to come back here. Looking around, that young woman was nowhere to be seen, so I simply looked through the glass counter, at the different ice cream flavors the store had to offer. There was everything from simple flavors like vanilla and chocolate to strangely enticing combinations like mint Oreo and fruit punch. Seeing all these offerings made me wish my financial status were a bit more stable so I could buy something. From a short distance, I heard a jingle of sorts.

“So you’re back,” said that vibrant woman to me, smiling. “I was hoping I’d see you again.”

I looked at the clock behind the counter. It read 8:15pm. Since I was jobless, penniless and it was still summer, I had nothing better to do than to walk from my dorm room all the way here. When not screwing around, I had a relatively boring life.

“I was bored,” I replied off-handedly. “And when I realized that I had no money to actually buy more ice cream, I was already almost here anyway.”

She smiled again. “Don’t worry about it, have another cone on the house. I’ll join you this time. Oh…” She looked out the window. I followed in suite, and realized that it’d just started to rain. “Oh well, we can eat in here. Sit while I get the ice cream ready.”

Obediently, I found a two-person table right next to the window. I always thought the city looked more surreal at night, and especially when it was raining. The water would just pour over it all, blurring everything sight, making things seem less real than they should be. It reminded me of my life, which was nothing but a day-to-day basis of unreality.

“Here you go,” she said, mimicking her gesture from a few days earlier as she gave me my ice cream. “It’s cotton candy this time.” I took a lick. It really did taste like cotton candy, only better since it was less sweet. As she sat down, I noticed the woman had vanilla ice cream.

“So tell me,” she said, “what’s your name?”

“It’s Alex,” I said as I swallowed. “And yours?”

“Just Ren.” It seemed like a very simple name for someone so seemingly profound, but it fit her quite well.

“So tell me,” she said as she slowly ate her ice cream, “anything new in life?”

“Not really,” I said as I shook my head. “I guess I’ve just been wasting this impromptu free time. I have no job, I have no money, and class doesn’t start again for another month.”

“You’re a student?”

“In college, I suppose.”

“What do you major in?”

“Graphic arts, specializing in drawing. It’s really the only thing I’m honestly good at, even if my art’s lacked inspiration or beauty for years.” I shrugged. “I mean, it still meets my professors’ standards, and people think it’s really great stuff. But to me, it’s nothing special. Nothing about anything I’ve done since I started has impacted me, and I really hate it.”

“Does it have anything to do with not finding your reason?” she asked.

“I guess.” I continued to eat my ice cream thoughtfully. This was honestly the best stuff I’d eaten in awhile. It was just right, not too soft or hard, not too sweet or devoid of sweetness. It was a perfect balance of everything that made ice cream great, and it made me both appreciate Ren’s kindness and enjoy this sort of treat for once.

“What was your reason?”

“It’s not important anymore.”

“It is if you basically have no life in you anymore.”

I hesitated, focusing my attention on the streets outside. Perhaps for showing me kindness twice without really knowing me, it might be worth it to tell her. She is asking me, at any rate, and I guess it would be rude to say no.

“My parents died when I was very little. I barely knew them. My older sister, who was sixteen at the time, basically took care of me and my twin sister afterwards, even when we moved in with a single aunt of ours. If not for her, I would be worse than I am now. But even more important was my twin sister. We were inseparable, always. Whatever she did, I did, wherever I went, she went. We always knew what the other was thinking, and we always had each other’s backs.”

The outside seemed to blur more. I could almost feel myself slipping between my unreality and what was actually going on outside.

“It was funny, because I was the one who could draw, and she was the one who could sing. Her voice was beautiful, always. It always cheered me up. All I had to do was look at Marie, and she’d sing for me. Clara loved it too. Even though we loved each other very much, there were things that I never knew about Marie though, and they became more apparent as we got older.”

Now my voice was shaking. I didn’t want to keep going, but my voice couldn’t stop at all.

“One day she was fine…and the next, she wasn’t. I didn’t know she had that…that disease. I never quite knew how she got it, but I can imagine. We were fifteen at the time, and there were days that she wouldn’t come home, or answer her phone. But she was still fine. It was just a cold. It shouldn’t have been so bad. But it was, and there was nothing I could do. I’d see her at the hospital every day, and I’d talk to her, and I’d tell her of all the new sketches I did so she could see them when she woke up, but she never woke up, she never opened her eyes again, and I never heard her voice again even though it was all I wanted even though it was all I lived for and she’s gone and I just don’t know why I’m still alive and she’s not!”

All of it, all of those words and a whole lot more just stumbled out before I could stop myself. Or more like, I couldn’t stop myself. It was all a bunch of bottled up feelings that I’d been carrying around for so long. I never said any of this to anyone, not even Clara. I stayed silent at the funeral. And for the next five years I’d simply detached myself from most everything in life. All this lead me here: in an ice cream shop, past 8pm, with a woman I barely know, confessing my life story, with my life completely in shambles. The only thing I wasn’t sure of was why on earth had I not killed myself yet.

“Hey, come on, calm down…” I felt her hand on my shoulder. It seemed to be pulling me back to the reality I’d so wanted to return to. It felt so good. I wasn’t sure how long I was there in that chair, face buried in my arms, almost incomprehensible. After awhile, I just remembered getting up, that hand of hers guiding me out the door and to her car, and at some point, walking into her apartment and falling asleep on her couch.

After a few hours, I woke up, a bit startled. But then I remembered what’d happened. I looked at my watch. It read 12:11am. I sat up, and saw Ren sitting on a chair, illuminated slightly by a soft lamp next to her. All of a sudden, I had a great idea. Getting up quietly, I grabbed a piece of paper in the kitchen, a pencil, and a sturdy phone book. Sitting back down just as quietly, I contemplated this relaxed Ren. She honestly was beautiful, simple in her appearance, with short black hair, a simple white dress, and a pair of sandals. It contradicted my own appearance: chin-length blue hair (dyed of course), a vintage punk rock shirt, studded jeans and Converse sneakers, plus a multitude of piercings.

Smiling to myself, I put pencil to paper and began to draw first the face...

…and finally done, I looked at it. It was beautiful, just like Ren. It actually meant something, the first sketch to mean something since Marie died. I liked it. Signing it, I wrote a note on the back as I got up.

Ren, thanks for listening. Enjoy the drawing.

P.S. I also…borrowed some change so I could get back home. I’ll pay you back.

I opened the door of the shop. It was 9:14am on a Sunday, a couple of weeks after I’d last seen Ren. Being summoned by the door’s jingle, I could see Ren’s form walk in.

“Well well, if it isn’t Alex. What brings you here so early?”

I smiled. “I wanted some ice cream. Plus, I kinda owe you money,” I said as I pulled out a few dollar bills.

“Don’t mention it,” she said, taking them. “So what’ll it be?”

“I’ll take a double-scoop strawberry. I need to do some late celebrating.”

“Oh? What was the occasion?” she asked as she gave me my cone.

“My birthday. That day you gave me ice cream over in front of the store was my birthday. I’d completely forgotten until the other day, and since Friday was payday, I figured I’d come by and treat myself a little.”

“Well, in that case, have this on the house too,” she said happily. “I’m glad to hear you have a new job.”

“Yeah, it should tide me over.”

“That’s good. I’m glad.”

I took a lick of my ice cream. It was just as delicious as the first time around.

“Have you found it?”

I looked at her. I noticed her eyes were blue. It matched her perfectly.

“No. But I may as well try now.” I hesitated, not sure if I could say it, but figured, what the hell. “Thank you.”

She smiled. I loved that smile of hers now. “Thank you for that sketch.”

I turned towards the door, waving behind me. “I’ll be back soon…when I find my answer.” I walked out of that ice cream shop, down the sidewalk. I couldn’t say everything was right and perfect again, and I didn’t think it would be for awhile. This isn’t some movie, after all.

But the ice cream was, as usual, practically perfect.

On not quitting

2007-04-16T08:52:00.000-04:00

And so I thought about it. On Saturday, while walking around Plaza, I realized that I've been feeling incredibly lonely. Strangely enough, I should've realized it on Friday night because, thanks to the magic of alcohol, the truth sorta slipped out. But it was in a way that I didn't really think about it until I was sober the next day. And I didn't think I was that drunk either. Man I'm a lush. But at least I've got good friends.

Anyway, I thought about it. I made a few promises to myself at the beginning of the semester. I told myself that this year would not be like last year. 2006 sucked overall, so I wanted 2007 to be different. I told myself I would be different from who I was. And I told myself that I didn't need love and that I would not like anyway. For the most part, it's been going just as planned. 2007 so far has been so much better than 2006. I mean, it's had its ups and downs, but isn't that normal? It makes me normal, at least. I'm slowly trying to be a different person, a better person, and I think I've done a good job on that. But I broke my last promise twice, falling for two different guys, both of whom I shouldn't have liked in the first place. They're great guys, and they're great friends too, but anything beyond that is something that should not be contemplated. As my friend Maru puts it, they're fun to flirt with, fun to hang out with and are good friends, but other than that, don't even bother. Well, I won't lie, I wouldn't mind sleeping with either of them. But then, I can separate casual sex from serious emotions, I've never had a problem there.

And so I thought about it. I like someone I shouldn't. I'm very lonely. I feel like there's nothing good left for me in life right now. On the bus back (and let's think for a moment, hot damn, I actually caught a bus?), these thoughts just came to me: "Is there nothing left for me in life? Will I never be swept off my feet again? Will I ever mean more to him, or to any guy for that matter? Have I reached the end of the line? Is this all life has to offer me?" If not for the fact that the bus wasn't empty, I probably would've cried right there. I just waited till I was on the train, since it was empty where I was.

And so I thought of my options. Apparently I'm not allowed to kill myself, and I'm also not allowed to quit. So what can I do? Well, part of me wants to just disappear and die quickly. But you know what? I'm not going to listen to that part of me. That part of me needs to shut the fucking hell up. I'm a lot stronger than that. Hell, my strength of character and strength of heart are my defining characteristics. I shouldn't let my current place in life shoot me down, not by a long shot. I've survived everything life's thrown at me up until now, and I'm almost 20, still alive and kicking. I'll get through this point, and I'll be laughing and pointing saying haha.

Another thing? I won't like him anymore either. In fact, I can already feel those thoughts floating away and fizzling out. Sure, I didn't want that to happen with this guy now, but I have no choice. I don't mean much of anything to him anyway. He might like me as a friend, and that's okay, that's great. I don't mind that one bit and I can totally live with that. It'll be the same as the guy I liked before. I'll just have them both as good friends to flirt with and laugh with and I'll be happy with that. I'm already happy with the thought, so I can do this no problem. I'll feel awkward on Tuesday when I see him again, but I can deal. It'll only last for some minutes, and the transition will be smooth and happy. Hell, I feel even better than sleeping on all this made me feel when I woke up in the morning. Besides, he proved to be a good friend that night. He didn't let me drink more after I was completely buzzed, he gave me a hug, and he was still nice to me overall. I can't ask for more than that.

And finally, I think it's high time I get back into the game. It's been awhile since I've wrapped a heart or three around my bitchy finger, and I feel I need to do it again. Not next weekend, since I'm going home, but the weekend after, I think I'll just go out to Viejo San Juan or Rio Piedras and work my way around men, see who'll fall into my traps. I don't want to date anyone anymore, because romance and love make me sick right now. I just want to prove to myself I'm still perfectly capable of being a heartbreaker. I'm really done being a stereotypical heart-broken, lonely female, and I want to get back to being who I am usually. So props to me. I do need to get myself laid anyway.

Right now, I think I'm okay again. I feel I've reached another turning point in life, and this time, it'll be towards something better, not something worse. If I think about it like that, life's great now. I'll be fine. As I said, I've got great friends now. And I've always said that I love my friends more than anything, no matter how long I've known them. And God must be in a pretty good mood to help me find friends that actually care about me. If I can keep this, I'll be totally fine for as long as I need to be.

Life is good. It still has more to offer. I can't throw in the towel yet. I am, indeed, lonely, but I'm not ready to quit.

On making decisions

2007-04-05T19:24:00.000-04:00

Yes, I know, there goes the pretty layout. See, as much as I loved it, the small font probably scared away readers, for fear of becoming blind. And, since I would love this blog to become popular (hah), I figured that a good way would be for said readers to be able to SEE the text. Yes, I could've made the font bigger on the layout, but to me, it ruined the entire aesthetic. I'm sorry, I'm an artist, I can't help it. So, unless the fanfare is big enough and wants the layout to return, I don't think I'll put it back up. As I've said, I do want to make a new layout soon. Well, when I feel like it. Maybe summer. During the one month I won't be taking class.

Anyway, I've been checking this place out, called SAE, which gives degrees in sound engineering. At the moment, my major in Sagrado is Producción y Mercadeo para la Radio. My minor, more than likely, will be in Relaciones Públicas. After this, I was thinking of getting a degree or a masters in something along the lines of music production and engineering. SAE is one place that shows promise. It has campuses all over the world, and I think the Miami campus offers MacBooks as part of the degree. Or the NYC one. But the one i like most is in Sydney. Another program I've checked out is NYU's Clive Davis Department, which looks absolutely amazing. It's basically Recorded Music, which is a combination of music production and engineering. If I could afford it, I'd love to go.

At any rate, it's been on my mind since I moved back home, but my dad was pretty much telling me today to look into majoring in another degree, because he knows I love those "arts" things, but to think about something that will make money. I then told him I'm not in "arts" things anymore, I'm a Communications student. But of course he decides to continue being condescending, as though I don't think about these things. Yes, I know radio doesn't bring in a lot of money. But my plan isn't to be in radio per se. My plan is to go into the music industry, being the person who not only helps engineer music, but also produces music for artists and bands. I do realize that in the crazy music industry, you start from the very bottom up (I look forward to being the gopher girl), but I want to become one of those big names you hear about that produce for bands and artists. Plus, with the this degree and minor and the next degree I get, this is how I see it: I'll be able to engineer music, produce it, figure out how to make it sell, and be the medium between the artist/label and the press/public. To me, it's a good combination.

But right now, I'm more irritated than anything else. It irritates me that dad talks to me about studying something that makes money, because I pretty much changed majors to make him and mom happy. I was a Theater major. And I loved it. But, I switched to be a Communications student as a way to make ammends for being the fuck-up I turned out to be. I also switched because I realized that, as much as I love acting and the theater, not only will good work be hard to come by, but unless I have the right connections, it'll be near impossible to get where I want. It's a harsh and sad truth, but this is also me attempting to be realistic. I think the plan I have up there is not only realistic, but is completely achievable, and will end up with me making a shitload of cash.

More than that, I think I'll be hapy doing this. There are three things I love doing on this earth: acting, writing and doing something with music (listening, making). If I can do any of these three things, I'll be the happiest person alive. Since my current plan and goal is both realistic and involves one of my three passions (an "arts" thing), I think I'll be okay. I think that my dad should quit being condescending towards me about this though. In fact, it still irritates me so much that I'm going to lay out my entire plan to him tomorrow, even if I have to make him listen (he has a habit of not listening). I know that my future is important and that I should carefully make my decisions. But my decisions are mine to make, and no one elses. A friend once described me as self-assured. And it's true. I always know what I want, when I want it. And I want this now.

In other news, this is the funniest thing I've seen in days.

On putting the pieces together

2007-04-02T22:35:00.000-04:00

So, to all you Christians out there who practice this in some way, I hope you have a good Holy Week? I dunno, I'm really not sure how I'm supposed to tell people to go ardently do what they believe in when it comes to Holy Week. Christmas is fine, I just say Merry Christmas. Holy Week's another story. Maybe Happy Easter would do it? I guess this is the trouble of being a misfit agnostic. Or, more precisely, of not having a religion due to the fact that I don't believe in the institute of religion. I could go on and on about this, but I think my religious views can be saved for another blog entry.

The upside of Holy Week is that, well, I've got the whole week off. It's the Puerto Rican version of spring break I guess. Except that, unlike most spring break people, I'm not off partying. I'm just spending the week unwinding and being way more boring than during a school week. It's sort of twisted and fucked up logic, but well, it works for me. Seeing as I don't have plans for the week so far that I know, and I am doing my best to unwind, basically all this free time gives me a chance to think. I mean, okay, I already think a little too much to begin with, but with the absence of usual worries like going to class, getting work done, not falling asleep, going out, and all that, I can think of other things.

SO I BET YOU CAN'T GUESS WHAT IS ONE THING THAT'S BEEN ON MY MIND. Well, it's not exactly the topic of love per se. It's more like, I'm trying to analyze and put the pieces together of one guy in particular. As I'm sure I've mentioned, I've currently got my eye on a guy nicknamed Gian. That's fine and good. I'm not denying it to myself right now anymore. I know I like the guy for a lot of reasons. But what I keep turning over and over in my mind right now, actually, isn't whether or not I like him, or why I like him. Right now, what I'm trying to do is figure out his stance on me.

Now, this could sound simple. But, Gian is a very...complex guy, so to say. I mean, he's a guy, so there're a lot of things he's not complicated about (sex, being a dickhead, food). It's more when you try getting down to a deeper level. It's so very clear that he doesn't let on to what he's really thinking at least half the time. And he's also very smart, which is something you wouldn't noticed since él se viste como un tirao and isn't the most applied student on earth. I have made the effort to get to know him more. I like talking to him, and whenever he asks me how life is, I tell him and ask him back, or vice versa. And I took the opportunity a couple of weeks back to ask him a couple of things I was curious about, over beer and smokes. Oddly enough though, when he asked me who I liked, I refused to tell him. (I'm still smacking myself over that.)

But I can't really tell what he thinks about me exactly. I guess he thinks I'm a good friend. I know he doesn't hate me. Beyond that, though, I have no idea. The reason I'm so confused is that, since he's smart (and a cunning bastard), he has a habit of outsmarting me and of getting under my skin. Sometimes, he might say this or that that makes me hit him. Sometimes he'll be nice. Most of the time he'll tease me or purposely provoke me. But the killer is this. Two times, in a group of people (the second time when we went out drinking), he's said, for no reason (or so I thought), "Ah, creo que Di me odia". I don't think I said anything the first time he did that, but the second time, I said, "Uh, dude, no I don't hate you, I like you quite a bit. You're the one who hates me". And I found out he doesn't hate me due to the fact that he said, "De dónde diablos sacas eso?" But, what I wouldn't think about until much, much later, is that he was probably playing dumb to figure out where I stood, since I didn't tell him when he asked me directly.

Overall, I'm still slightly annoyed, because it means he outsmarted me AGAIN. But more than annoyed, I'm trying to figure out what to do to see where he stands now. I can't bet against him (I've learned my lesson never to bet against that fucker again). So I don't know how to get around his defenses and render him to my feet. I like the challenge, though. I always like it when I come across a guy who's a challenge. But it's also frustrating since I hate to lose. I had a tarot card reading the other day, and one suggestion from the cards was to stop with the strategy and the subtlety and be direct about it. But I just wonder how to be direct since I really don't enjoy rejection when it comes to dating. I'm really just not sure. Actually, I think I should talk to my friend Gabe once the week's over and class stars up again. He usually has good advice and an inherent sixth sense. So I might figure out what I could (and should) do by then.

It's quite strange though. I'm not betting everything I have on this dude, but I've turned down the last three guys who've asked me out on dates. I don't know why either. It would've been a sure-fire shot at getting laid at least, and I would've gone out and had some fun in the process. And yet, I said no to these guys. I really, really don't know why. Well, if I figure it out, I'll get back to you guys on that.

So, happy Easter. Get loads of those Peep marshmallows.

On the heart and stupid haircuts

2007-03-27T18:46:00.000-04:00

I was talking to a friend of mine, Maru, over MSN the other night. Her boyfriend had just dumped her, mainly because, though she might love him, she can't seem to get her heart back from the previous boy who'd stolen it. Because the advice I gave her was some of the most philosophical things I've said in a long time, I think I'll pass it on here, to you guys. I'm r o c k ~ s t a r, she's d e l e t e.

d e l e t e----[ f * c k i t uP a n d l 3 t i t g0 ] says:
i dont know if i'll be able to fall inlove again, honestly..
.: r o c k ~ s t a r :. sweet peppermint roses says:
*pat*
d e l e t e----[ f * c k i t uP a n d l 3 t i t g0 ] says:
oh well
.: r o c k ~ s t a r :. sweet peppermint roses says:
you'll get your heart back though, and when you least suspect it
.: r o c k ~ s t a r :. sweet peppermint roses says:
just don't sweat it too much
d e l e t e----[ f * c k i t uP a n d l 3 t i t g0 ] says:
....i hope so
d e l e t e----[ f * c k i t uP a n d l 3 t i t g0 ] says:
honestly thats the only reason i cried when this relationship ended
d e l e t e----[ f * c k i t uP a n d l 3 t i t g0 ] says:
because i came to a realisation...that I dont think i'll ever fall inlove again
.: r o c k ~ s t a r :. sweet peppermint roses says:
you will, trust me...but for now, just give yourself some space to put it all back together
d e l e t e----[ f * c k i t uP a n d l 3 t i t g0 ] says:
...ok
d e l e t e----[ f * c k i t uP a n d l 3 t i t g0 ] says:
i have somebody to numb my lust over with
d e l e t e----[ f * c k i t uP a n d l 3 t i t g0 ] says:
atleast
d e l e t e----[ f * c k i t uP a n d l 3 t i t g0 ] says:
but see...theres no love there
d e l e t e----[ f * c k i t uP a n d l 3 t i t g0 ] says:
with this guy its sheer lust
.: r o c k ~ s t a r :. sweet peppermint roses says:
well, maybe that's all you need right now, no strings attatched or anything
.: r o c k ~ s t a r :. sweet peppermint roses says:
or at least, no serious, long-lasting strings
d e l e t e----[ f * c k i t uP a n d l 3 t i t g0 ] says:
but could it be that i just cant?
.: r o c k ~ s t a r :. sweet peppermint roses says:
well
.: r o c k ~ s t a r :. sweet peppermint roses says:
the funny thing about love and the heart is that, no matter what happens, it always remains very resiliant
.: r o c k ~ s t a r :. sweet peppermint roses says:
you'll be more cynical and realistic as time goes on
.: r o c k ~ s t a r :. sweet peppermint roses says:
but being able to love someone is something that never goes away, no matter how jaded you are or how hurt you've been
.: r o c k ~ s t a r :. sweet peppermint roses says:
of course, you forget this at the time you're hurt, because it's painful, I know I have and do
.: r o c k ~ s t a r :. sweet peppermint roses says:
but hey, it's what makes us human, the good and bad
.: r o c k ~ s t a r :. sweet peppermint roses says:
me, I know love still exists aunque me esta pichando, I just need to be made to see it again
d e l e t e----[ f * c k i t uP a n d l 3 t i t g0 ] says:
lol
d e l e t e----[ f * c k i t uP a n d l 3 t i t g0 ] says:
love te esta pichando >>
.: r o c k ~ s t a r :. sweet peppermint roses says:
it sounds so sad I know >_>
.: r o c k ~ s t a r :. sweet peppermint roses says:
in your case, love's on an extended break being a whore, but when it's done and sees you're still there, it'll realize what it's been missing out on
.: r o c k ~ s t a r :. sweet peppermint roses says:
having nothing but beer and beer nuts to dine on
.: r o c k ~ s t a r :. sweet peppermint roses says:
and it'll think to itself "hot damn, what the fuck is wrong with me?"
d e l e t e----[ f * c k i t uP a n d l 3 t i t g0 ] says:
xD!!!!!!!!!!!
.: r o c k ~ s t a r :. sweet peppermint roses says:
q viaje but it's true
d e l e t e----[ f * c k i t uP a n d l 3 t i t g0 ] says:
hmm..*kicks love* DEJA LA BORRACHERA YA!
.: r o c k ~ s t a r :. sweet peppermint roses says:
*texts love* I KNOW YOU'RE THERE *stalker*
d e l e t e----[ f * c k i t uP a n d l 3 t i t g0 ] says:
xD!!

Moral of the story: maybe I should take my own advice sometimes. But then again, I'm still feeling too jaded to want anything to do with anyone. And yet, I still like someone. I'm not sure what to think over that though, because I no longer like John. Now, I like his brother, Giancarlo. ~~Why?!~~ You know, though, funnily enough, my feelings towards each switched on the same night, that night that John started tapping the hell out of Samaris. But I know why I like Gian. He's a pessimistic jackass, plain and simple. That's the only type of guy I usually see myself dating anyway, seeing as I am bitch myself.

I don't know what to do though. In fact, I don't even want to do anything this week. It's raining por acá en San Juan, and it seems to have sapped me of my usual bounce and energy. All I want to do is stay inside and read and do nothing. Piché a dos de tres clases hoy, which I know will bite me in the ass on Thursday, but hey, you know what? I don't care right now, so HA. Thankfully, I only have one class tomorrow, so I don't think I'll skip it. I really need to stop that anyway. Genius will only get me so far. Like, studying for HUM130 the same day of the test and still getting a 97.

Well, you know, I don't care about being intelligent at the moment. I know I am. I just want my love life to go back to the way it was. It's funny. I was looking at a pic of my ex on Facebook, and almost immediately I had to click somewhere else. I just couldn't keep looking at him. It's been five months, so you'd think I'd be over it. And yet, I can't even look at a picture of him. Not only does it tear me on the inside, it makes me feel worse about the current state of my love life. I just don't get how everyone else seems to have the luck. I might be the girl respects because I'm a bitch, but where does that get me if no guy wants to get close to me? At least I'm not a doormat. That's a small positive.

In other news, this picture, from http://postsecret.blogspot.com/, made me giggle.

It's terribly amusing.

On social constructions

2007-03-15T23:27:00.000-04:00

I think the thing most people tend to never realize is the fact that to have sex with someone, you don't necessarily even have to like the person, much less even love them. To have sex with a person, loving them is not a prerequisite.

So then, why is it that society perceives this as the day-to-day norm? This can probably be answered by the fact that love itself is a social construction. El amor es una construcción social, hecho por la sociedad. Though how society shapes the definition of this social construction varies over time and culture, its essence is always the same. The reason for this is because to be in love or to feel love for someone is defined by society, and the whys and hows are usually driven into people subconsciously. Point in case, why white people usually date white people, why rich people date rich people, ect.

Sex, then, as it fits into this particular social construction, is supposed to be an act of love between two people who are supposed to be married (or get married or live together), and will spend the greater part of their lives together. So let's destroy this concept bit by bit. First, marriage itself is slowly (very slowly, but surely) fading out of the norm. It's still widely practiced, obviously. But it's becoming a little antiquated, mainly because we humans are finally realizing that monogamy isn't something that comes natural to us. We can pretend all we like that when we're in a relationship we only have eyes for that person, but let's be honest, if someone you find attractive is around, those eyes are going to wander, least of all.

Second, as I already mentioned, humans are not monogamous. The reason for this is because we fall into the category of mammals in the greater kingdom that is nature. So, fun fact, ten percent of mammal species are monogamous. Humans fall in the other ninety percent. So the thought of being with only one person in your life, much less having sex with just one person, doesn't quite fit into nature's plans. And let's face it, sex is something humans need, not just to procreate, but as an actual physical necessity. If you're the type of zealot Christian who believes in celibacy before marriage, that's your problem. For my part, I intend to satisfy this human need whenever I feel I should, like eating and showering and such.

Finally, to completely smash these outdated notions of monogamy and celibacy, is this: Love is a social construction. It was invented by society to justify sex. Let's not beat around the bush here, when done right, sex and orgasms are the best feelings on earth. Humans are scared of this though. It feels good, but it feels too good. So it has to be justified somehow. And it can't be justified by saying that it's to procreate, because humans have reached the point that sex is needed for more than that, as I mentioned. Us, dolphins and certain species of monkeys know this. So in order to feel better about sex and lust and wanting someone, we invented love, despite the fact that to fuck a whore, all you need is to have your reproductive parts intact and the right state of mind.

I'm not saying love doesn't exist or is entirely useless. I just don't believe in it in the way society defines it, which is love towards one person above others. Love isn't like that at all. Love can be felt towards anyone in different ways and shapes. I love a lot of people, but the way I love each person is completely different, as is the degree. I'm perfectly capable of hooking up and having sex with most of my guy friends, but does that make me a whore? No, it makes me human, and that's the main thing people don't get. Though, to be fair, women do get the raw end of the deal. While casual sex is quite accepted among men, usually when women partake in it, society deems them whores, sluts, ect. Men know this, but they promise eternal love to get into most womens' pants. And women tend to think that they're worth nothing if they're not with a guy. That's where I draw the big, fat line. If you need someone to love in order to fit into society, because otherwise you're not worth a damn thing, then you're simply a shallow, hollow human being, with no substance to hold on to, and with a very screwed perception of what love is.

So then, what's my stance? I think it's already quite obvious. I don't think love is remotely necessary to have sex. It's a human want and need, therefore if I need to satisfy it, I will. I won't sleep with people I don't know, nor will I have one night stands. If any of this makes me a slut in society's eyes, then society can go fuck itself. And what about love? Well, just as I am agnostic when it comes to religion, I don't really believe in love anymore. Or at least, not the way it's commonly defined. To be much more precise, I can't believe in love, because I still can't forget my ex-boyfriend. I'm perfectly capable of liking and crushing on guys still, but the whole deal of serious relationships doesn't seem worth the trouble at the moment. If and when someone comes along and shows me that he's worth the time and effort, I'll reconsider my stance.

This entry is brought to you by lack of sleep. It was also inspired by some conversations I had with friends today.

On being respected

2007-03-14T18:48:00.000-04:00

To my loyal audience of readers: I apologize for both not updating enough, and for not being more present 'round the blog ring. Honestly, I really don't have much time to spare to both update this blog and comment on other blogs. But, hopefully I'll be around more often during the summer. My audience must be loyal for a reason, so I gotta deliver more often.

So, as those of you who've been keeping up know, there's been this guy that I've been liking. Long story short, I haven't told him I like him or made a move or anything of the sort. My main reason is that I caught wind of the fact that he is, essentially, a man whore. He's a good guy, and a great friend, but somehow, dating a whore doesn't sound like a good idea, especially a man whore. Whores have a tendency to back stab and whatnot, and I kinda don't want to get caught up in that sort of game.

However, this doesn't take away the fact that I like him, because, I'll admit it, he's the type of guy I find most attractive: lazy, an asshole, fun-loving, loyal, quirky. But, sometime last week, a girl that no one knows just appears seemingly out of nowhere around our hangout spot. In essence, she is my antithesis: cute, girly, giggly, air-head, short. As I mentioned, the guy is a whore. Put two and two together. And of course, as is natural in human nature, I was jealous. I was less jealous of the fact that they're now hooking up than the fact that he hooked up with a girl that's my antithesis.

But, magically, my jealousy evaporated almost entirely on Monday, for one simple reason: I realized that he respects me as a friend as a person, more so compared to this girl. Compare this. That day, me saluda como siempre. We talk and joke as always. I accompany him to eat since his brother was running late. He pays the extra change for my food, without even having to. To that other girl, he says hi by making out, makes random casual talk with her, and makes out with her at every opportunity. Not to mention some other things that I don't want to know about, since it happened in the back of a classroom auditorium.

If I compare and think about it, I realize that I've got the better end of the deal. More than that, compared to this girl, he respects me. He is a friend who wants to have fun with me, not just get into my pants and then never speak to me again. But most of all, it finally gave me proof of what I've always been told all these years. Guys might hook up with the easy girls, but the girls they respect and keep around are the ones that are smart, funny and who can think for themselves. So I might not be getting laid, but I am getting a good friendship out of this. I value this much more than anything else.

This past weekend, I cut my hair short.

It's quite a difference, I know. But I'll let you all in on a secret. Though the cut isn't modeled around her, my reason for doing it are the same as Sakura's from the anime Naruto. She'd kept her hair long and pretty because she'd heard that the object of her affections, Sasuke, liked girls with long hair. But, when he and her other teammate needed her, she realized that she could no longer focus on such a trivial thing anymore. She needed to break away from this, and become strong enough to fight and protect. Granted, I wasn't being attacked by enemy ninjas when I went to cut my hair, but the idea was the same.

Quite philosophical, especially when you consider the fact that it's from an anime. My friend Gabe (who's also psychic) almost immediately compared me to Sakura when he saw me, so perhaps he's the only one who can see why I might've cut my hair. At any rate, it's different, it's cute, and I like it.

On a final note, I'll make a new layout in summer, with bigger font. I'm sorry, I just can't put the font bigger here. It doesn't look aesthetically right in my eyes, and I'm just as big on style as I am on content. It's sometimes hard to be an artist.

On having a life

2007-03-03T16:00:00.000-04:00

It occurs to me that I haven't been updating as much as I've promised to. Then again, when I sit to think about it, life's been moving exactly the way I told myself it would at the start of the year: fast, hectic, and with almost no stops.

My classes, overall, have been going okay. I'm doing more than excellent in CMU101 and HUM130, I'm doing pretty okay in ADM102 and GME201, and MAT210...I don't want to talk about it. In terms of tests, I aced CMU101, probably did terrible in the MAT210 test, and hopefully did good on my ADM102 test. The ADM102 test was the test I put most effort in to study, because it was a lot of material. I was the last to leave, since I wrote tons. I hope my effort was for something. This week, I'm probably going to spend a few nights without any sleep studying, first for my GME201 test, and then for my HUM130 test. Though I'm naturally good at humanities and history, the HUM130 test still has me pretty nervous, but I'm more worried about GME201. I really, really don't want to do bad on either test. So I will probably just do the same thing I did for ADM102 and hit the pause button on my social life.

But hey, we all know that class is the least important part of college life. How about my social life, eh? It's pretty damn good. Since the semester's started, I've made a lot of new friends, and managed to keep the majority of my old ones. A lot of crazy stuff's happened, that's putting it quite lightly. I think a picture will be a good way to describe what I'm talking about.

If you find it hilarious, that's okay, so does everyone else. Pretty much, most of the week is a succession of random events that are almost impossible to string together. They usually involve liberal amounts of randomness, blatant stupidity and alcohol. Yes, I love my alochol. Probably more than most anything. I think it's fairly obvious that I'm most definitely my dad's daughter, since according to him, I'm just like him when he was my age: drinker, smoker, fucker, ect ect. But not to worry, I know my limits. If I didn't , I wouldn't be worried about my classes, right?

Now, I dunno, maybe I'm being harsh, but at least 3/4's of the time, I can't stand my roommate. She's out six out of seven days a week partying, for one. She gets back at 3-7am. She keeps leaving stuff on MY side of the room. And she's constantly inviting people in here, talking about this guy or that date. And it makes me sick. I'v e been more able to tolerate this since she was more than kind to lend me her ADM102 notes, but that feeling is going away. I really want my own apartment, but even if I managed to get a job, I won't be able to afford one. I'm thinking maybe I'll move in with my grandma, who lives in Bayamon, and just take the train up here to Sagrado every day. It would make paying for college easier, at any rate.

So, overall, life's good. It's stressful, fun, random, and each day is most definitely not like the last. I want life to stay this way all year. I hate monotany and boredom, and college life is definitely a remedy for both things.

To go with that, I must be off. LIFE CALLS.

On meeting the one at a rock show

2007-02-18T20:59:00.000-04:00

No, I haven't met the one at a rock show. I was just listening to The Rock Show by Blink 182. It brings back memories of great summertimes, y'know?

It kind of makes me wonder where on earth does the time go. Does it go into a box we can't reach once we pass it? Or does it just disappear like smoke, never to be seen again? I sometimes prefer to think of time going into an unreacheable box. At least this way, it's somewhere, and isn't completely meaningless. Well, I'm also the type of person who thinks that sometimes, a person's past actions (and past itself) has nothing to do with the here and now. But that doesn't change the fact that, if something happened, it's still important, even if you can't hold on to those important moments.

What moments, if I could, would I hold onto, and never let go of? I'd hold on to that moment that my ex-boyfriend told me he loved me. I'd hold on to the moment I did what I thought I had to do to prove a point. I'd hold on to the moment I proved everyone wrong in Forensics. I'd hold on to the moment I felt like I mattered during the summer of 2002. Most of all, I'd hold on to the moments in which I was a little girl, still cute and still everything her parents wanted, and not marginalized by most others. Perhaps, then, it's better that we can't hold on to moments, even if they seem important to us. Life can't be about holding on to what's gone. It has to be searching for what's to come.

I commented to a good friend of mine the other night that I was feeling tired and numb in the romantic aspect of my life. She suggested I take a break. Now that I think about it, I need more than a break from romance and relationships and hookups and games. I need a break from myself. I'm quite happy with life right now, but at the moment, I'm kinda sick of myself, y'know? Then again, I do harbor slight feelings of misanthropy overall, but that's not new at all.

Well, I'm sure this'll go away this week. I'm home from Sagrado till very early Tuesday, to recharge my batteries overall, and I'm already half-done.

Man, I should go to a rock show soon. Anything except Mana though, since I'm most definitely not a fan of Sanish rock.

On further discussions about human emotions...or just love

2007-02-07T18:09:00.000-04:00

So, my last entry was a quick and random thought about how incomprehensible human emotions can be. It was just a quick thought that I felt like expressing and sharing with my small audience here. This entry, however, will be me going more in depth about what motivated me to express that thought. Mainly, esto es para desahogarme, porque me estoy volviendo loca, and I need to write somewhere else that's not my emo LiveJournal.

So, most of the time, I consider myself to be a pretty logical and wise person. I don't like to lose my head over anything. And not just in romance, but in anything, I don't play hard to get; I am hard to get. Not a lot gets a chance to penetrate my heart, because I don't like that. When it comes to romance or anything remotely in that area, that aspect of myself crumbles into tiny, unrecognizeable pieces. In short, forget logic and forget previous wisdom. I just spend my time arguing to myself and letting my head and heart duke it out in an intermineable fight. And I drive myself insane. The main reason behind this is because one of my fears in life is rejection in the amorous sector.

But I'm not going into that now. I just wanted to give a quick background here, expanding on the thought I wrote yesterday. Now, onto the actual situation.

Once again, I'm a college student, as I've mentioned various times. I've also been trying to drag myself out of the remnants of feelings for the man I loved in my previous relationship, which I've also written about here. Now, when I moved back home from Chicago, I decided that I would just take a long break from love and relationships and all that shit, because I just didn't feel that it was worth it. Then, a few days before I was to move into la Resi de Sagrado, I made another promise: I was not going to fall for anyone for the rest of the semester, no matter what. I honestly didn't think this was a big problem, because I was tired of all that, and figured that just messing around and perhaps scoring sex of the casual kind would be just fine. It was the perfect plan.

Or not.

So, first day of class, I see all my old friends and start making new ones in the reject corner, one we affectionately have named "las mesitas". Por los que saben como es Sagrado y sus edificios, queda por donde esta Barat Sur. Now, while bored, and after my class of Estadisticas Aplicadas 1, I start playing brisca with my very good friend Leilani. Then it becomes a game of four, boys vs. girls. One guy I knew (and don't really like), the other I didn't. And the two of us kicked the boy's asses. The guy I didn't know says to me, "so, como te llamas, persona que no conozco?", hand extended so I could shake it. "My nick's Di," I tell him. "And you?" He smiles, and says it's John. After talking a bit with him, the things that strike at me most are:

1. He has a mullet. Why a mullet? It seriously makes me question God's existence, I swear.

2. He has a very nice smile. It's not in the sense that he has perfectly straight teeth or anything. It's just a good smile.

3. His sense of humor is actually a little similar to mine, quite sarcastic and whatnot.

4. I love his deep voice. It's nice. I like it. Yes.

So, remember that plan of mine, from a couple of paragraphs ago or so? Haha, thanks a lot Life, that's plan's so screwed now. Well, it's not that I've fallen so desperately in love that I can't sleep at night and can think of no one else or anything. I just (for the moment) kinda like him. Y'know, I think he's kinda cute, I'd love to go out with him, and I think he's cool and a lot of fun. And that I'd have a lot of good times with him if I were with him. But, regardless of whether I were considering him as a prospective husband or just a fun relationship, there's that fear of mine of rejection.

I don't mind getting rejected from a job. I don't mind getting rejected in an audition. But when it comes to the prospect of telling someone how I feel, I'm just a moron and a jackass. Let me put it like this:

Logic: Hey, what's the big deal? Either he likes you or not.

Emotions: BUT I CAN 'T STAND THE THOUGHT OF HIM NOT LIKING ME.

I think that's part of the problem of having my type of personality, which, while quite intuitive and logical, is completely dysfunctional when it comes to emotions. It's not that I can't deal with my emotions. I just suck at it. So, my long entry now begs the question: what will I do? Excellent question. As for the answer...well, I do plan on telling him. I'm not sure how, or when, but I will. Or try to anyway. If not, I'll just...I dunno, just keep torturing myself.

Phew. Well, I don't think I feel any different after writing this. But I did what I wanted.

On a random thought

2007-02-06T20:31:00.000-04:00

This is proof that humanity will always have one thing about themselves that they will always fail to understand:

I have been through hell and back. I've faced countless amounts of rejections in all shapes and sizes. I've done things and seen places that most people won't do in most of their whole lifetime. I've risked a lot and I've taken chances in a lot of things. And yet, when it comes to telling one guy that I like him a lot, all that gets thrown out the trash, and I become an illogical moron who becomes petrified of the prospect of being rejected.

In short, no matter how much science advances, no matter if we get to the point that we can control computers with our brains, when it comes to a person we happen to have romantic interest towards, we will collapse and break apart. In an instant. Like sand. We humans are quite illogical when it comes to explaining such a silly thing like love or sadness, huh? It's just as well though. Wouldn't it be boring if we were able to figure out ourselves completely?

On upgrades

2007-02-03T16:35:00.000-04:00

So, as most of you must've surmsed by now, I'm now back into this thing called "college life". I must say, I really did miss it. And, despite Sagrado's reputation for having a mostly snobby, rich-kid populace, I have managed to find solace in souls like my own. In other words, I hang out with the fuck ups and the screw ups and the art/humanities/revolutionaries. So I'm happy.

The only thing that was slightly wrong was the fact that I lacked a computer. Yes, I have my faithful desktop, which I love to death despite that a. it runs on 256MB of RAM; b. it sometimes feels like pissing me off for the hell of it; and c. the CD drive is now waging war against me. But, despite Sagrado's much-improved wireless network, there's not 'net connection in the dorm rooms, just in the lobbies. So, as one might imagine, bringing a desktop is impractical, considering that I can't drag it to the lobby and set it up every time I need to do work. Therefore, a laptop is a necessity...preferrably one with an integrated wireless LAN. In my case, since I'm now a Communications student, a Mac would've been the best choice. But I'm poor. And so are my lovely parents. Despite this, my dad (who I love dearly even when he's pissing me of 3/4ths the time) surprised me when I got home yesterday, ready to spend the weekend here: I had, on my bed, a brand-new Compaq Presario laptop, wrapped in adorable Hello Kitty wrapping paper.

Needless to say, I was quite shocked. I mean, I know my parents do their best to provide for me and my older sibling, but we're not rich, not by a long shot. So for my dad to get me this brand-new laptop that I'm currently typing on was more than I could've ever asked for. To further my surprise, it's one of the first ones to come packed in with Windows Vista Home Basic. A new computer AND a 3-day-old OS. In my own words: squee! Granted, I had originally planned to leave upgrading to Windows Vista for a year...but oh well.

So then, what's the deal with Vista and it's 20 different versions? Well, first, that's an exaggeration. There are, currently, four versions, and each depends on a computer's specs. Home Basic is the least taxing and the simplest, and is the one I currently run. There's also Home Premium, Business and Ultimate. These three are all 3D and are all "oh my god, my eyesockets are exploding!" Hme Basic is more like a shiny version of Windows XP, with differences that are only obvious once you sit down and actually use it. As usual, there're the pro-Microsoft people claiming that this is the next coming of computer OS's. And there're the anti-Microsoft people, divided into Linux lovers and Mac whores, who all claim that Microsoft is at least a few years behind in creating these upgrades for the mainstream OS world. Some people say that Vista is great, others scoff and say that it sucks.

From someone who's curretly using Vista at this exact moment as s/he types, what do I think of Windows Vista? Well...I'll summarize it like this: Windows Vista is actually like what would happen if Mac OS X mated with the bastard child of various Linux distros, had a child, and had Windows puke all over said child. Do I mean this in a good or bad way? In a good way, actually. My analogy simply means hat Microsoft is now making massive efforts to create an OS that's easy to use and is safe from things like hackings and syware, andd they're doing a great job thus far, about four days after Vista's initial release. Things are more streamlined, easier to access and figure out, and there're far less headaches.

However, note the Mac OS X and Linux distros comparation. A lot of the way things are presented visually are almost a carbon-copy of Mac OS X. Some of the way the menus configure strongly reminded me of a couple of Linux distros I'd tried before. I mean, imitiation is the best form of flattery, or so they say, but I do agree with some comments made that these upgrades should've been done years ago. Better late than never, I suppose. Another thing I don't get: why is it impossible for me to find my integrated WLAN adaptor's MAC address? Sheesh, talk about way too much trouble. At least it's not something I detrimentally need.

So, overall, do I recommend upgrading? Yes and no. Upgrade if you have the money and if your computer's got the specs to run it. Even better, upgrade to any version asides Basic if you can run it, so you can say that your eye sockets exploded due to the awesomeness. But, if your computer can't run any version, if you don't have the money to buy the upgrade, or the money to buy an entirely new computer, don't bother for at least a year. I've yet to encounter serious problems, but if previous Windows versions are anything to go by, I expect to find a bug or five soon, and the obligatory service packs with patches to fix it. Basically, if you're going to be an early adopter like me, do it while keeping in mind that from here to three years, Vista might be quite upgraded and far better. Also don't bother if you're a Mac crackwhore and would love nothing more than to be buried with your Mac.

I myself don't hate Macs by the way. It's my goal to own a Mac by the time I'm in my third year of college, actually. If I'm going to be into radio, I'll need it to edit sound. I'm just not an ardent whore of any OS. Whatever gets the job done, I'm happy, really.

On updating

2007-01-27T14:03:00.000-04:00

So, it'd be at this precise moment in which I'd apologize for my lack of updating. Well, I don't really feel like it. Looking back at the date I last wrote an entry here, I realize it has been a few weeks though.

Strangely though, it's only been this week that I've actually been really busy. As in, non-stop busy. That's because I moved back to the dorms of Sagrado Sunday, and have been busy with class and other random things in between all week. I'm here writing this now, because I'm waiting for my laundry to be done. Seriously, can't laundry do itself? It's annoying to have to do it. I also did some food shopping. I'll do more tomorrow when my dad visits, so I don't have to drag soda all by my lonesome (it'd be heavy). I also wish my dorm allowed alcohol. If they did, I would have so much beer in my closet. Speaking of beer, out of the many random things I did this week, this was possibly the most random: I was at a bar with a French dude, a Colombian girl and an American girl, with two American dudes from Harvard, at a bar, playing pool and drinking beer, at 2am, in the middle of Old San Juan, on Wednesday night/Thursday morning. I suck at pool though, I just stuck around 'cause the French dude was buying me my beer.

So, I changed majors this semester, and I'll stick to it now, to Producción y Mercadeo para la Radio. It falls in the Communications department, which is great, since Sagrado is the best place on the whole island to study communications anyway. And, I take the following classes:

Principios de Mercadeo GME 201: The teacher was cool I guess. He basically just gave us a quick overview of the class, told us to buy the book used or borrow it off someone because it's $140 new, and stuff like that. But he seems pretty laid-back, so maybe a marketing class won't be so bad.

Estadísticas Aplicadas 1 MAT 210: I like the teacher. I do. But I wish she would've shut the fuck up about her life story, explained the syllabus and let us fucking leave early. That said, it's math statistics stuff, so nothing too hard for me.

Introducción a las Comunicaciones CMU 101: I'm not sure if it was because I was irritated when I got there (and halfway through I could feel my blood sugar take a dip), but I found the whole thing irritating. I just wanted to leave early and eat something. But the teacher seems real nice, so I should go with a more open mind next time.

El amor y su trayectoria por la historia HUM 130: I fucking love the professor who gives this class. And the title is so misleading, it's going to be a very kickass class. Albeit, I will also probably be working like a crackwhore.

Dinámicas de las organizaciones ADM 102: See, this class could be SO MUCH MORE BORING, but the professor makes it a lot more liveable. A LOT MORE LIVEABLE. He's pretty funny, and he was really straightforward. In fact, now that I notice, all the male professors I have this semester are straightforward. The female ones ramble too much.

So, it'll be interesting. I actually enjoy all my classes except for MAT210. It's a boring class by default though, and I may as well get it over with this semester.

Anyway, random thought of the moment: it'd be hilarious if I actually met some of you people who live in San Juan while I'm out and around. Well, I think my laundry's done, so I'm just going to go get that and try cooking (hah).

On goals for 2007

2007-01-03T12:01:00.000-04:00

Feliz Navidad, Feliz Año Nuevo, y Feliz Día de Reyes. Ah, y felicidades to whatever you celebrated these past few weeks, por si se me quedó algo. I mean, since we have to be all politically correct to avoid offending the POOR JEWISH PEOPLE WHO DON'T EVEN BELIEVE IN JESUS. Don't get me wrong. I don't hate Jewish people. Or any type of person of x religion or y ethnicity or z sexuality. But last I checked, Christmas was supposed to be celebrated for the birth of Jesus Christ. Don't get mad at me if I somehow couldn't tell that you're Jewish or Muslim or whatever and just so happen not to celebrate Christmas. Just appreciate the fact that I had the kindness to even SAY Merry Christmas to you. IT'S THE THOUGHT THAT COUNTS. And not many people appreciate that, so it seems.

So anyhow, Christmas was cool, New Years was cool. Three Kings will undoubtedly be uneventful, but that's fine, since I only ever started celebrating it when I moved here when I was ten. As for the rest of you, I hope you all are having a good holidays. I'd check in your individual blogs (for those that read and are on my blogroll or whatever), but laziness takes ahold of me. That, and I feel like writing in one of my novels when I'm done here. Or maybe just go play my DS Lite. That's right, I finally got one, and it's awesome. People of all ages and creeds should own a DS Lite. End of story. But I do apologize for lack of updates recently. I chalk it up to a combination of enjoying the holidays, being lazy, and concentrating on my other blogs. I need to stop being such a blog whore. But I love it.

Anyway, I'm not the type to make resolutions or anything like that. But this year, what I want to try and do is make up a list of goals I want to achieve, and at the end of each month, look back at what I've done during said month, and see if I've accomplished anything related to my list. If I've accomplished nothing on the list, but I have accomplished something, that will count too, since this is not the make- or break-all of everything. On to the list!

Goals for 2007

1. Get through one year of college (as in, be in college two semesters in a row). Also, maintain my current GPA of 3.83 and perhaps get it higher. This shouldn't be too hard, provided I have the money. I do want to work partially to help pay for my studies. If my parents move, then I'll have to decide if I want to continue studying here (since it's far cheaper here than in the US), or if I'm going to transfer. But unless I accomplish another goal that'll be on this list (more on that in a bit), I am going to get a year's worth of studying done.

2. Get to know more people, go out on more casual dates than I'd normally subject myself to, and generally have fun and play hard. It's not as though I'm anti-social, or that I lack socializing skills, or that I don't have any friends already. I just want to work on getting to know more people. These people won't even be close friends who know me inside out (and I don't want them to be as such). They're just going to be interesting people that I genuinely want to talk to and hang out with when time provides. The casual dating is less for physical gratification and more to observe different types of guys and, well, live it up.

3. Work hard, and get a part-time job. Alongside my part-time, I want to do work-study. Main reasoning behind this is not so much the money, but the desire to become a much more responsible and mature person than I already am. I made an attempt to do this last year, and a reason I failed miserably was because I lacked the maturity to continue on with it. Having the strength to do something will get me nowhere if I don't have the maturity to support that strength. This aside, the part-time job will be so I can have more money to use for things like living expenses and anything fun on the side, like maybe clothes or video games or to go bar-hopping, as well as using a portion to pay off my studies. The work-study will go directly to paying for my studies on top of this.

4. Get in shape. I've already started on this sort of. This is less about being thin or about cursing myself and my "fat disgusting body", and much more of improving my overall health (and with that comes lower weight...hopefully not anorexic). Truth be told, my health hasn't been the best as of late (I've been getting sick in the stomach every other day at random points, and that can't be good), and I realize that, with my Type I diabetes, I need to get it together more. My godmother is a cautionary tale of this, as she was put on dialysis for her kidneys in September. I need to get my cholesterol and HbA1c much lower, and do exercise as often as possible, and eat a lot better. As I said, I already started on this. I work out usually 4 out of 7 days in a week, I'm refusing most junk food and relying on salads and stuff like that. In college, I plan on going to the gym most nights.

5. Finish one of my current novels. Alright, I finished a novel last year, go me. Now I need to finish at least one of the now-four novels that I have going. Basically, this is about me not being a lazy jackass, sitting down at least once a week with some music and some soda, and writing, even if it's only a page or two. All my ideas won't be worth anything if I can't get them down on paper.

6. Get my novel published. This is a goal I had last year, but to no avail. Actually, I did make a little progress. I now know more about the process of publishing and what I should do to even get a chance at publishing. This year should then be about putting that knowledge into action somehow.

7. Buy an electric guitar. Self-explanatory.

8. Learn to sing, get better at guitar-playing and start writing songs. I've said it for so long, but this is the year that I finally sit down and learn to sing. I could teach myself, or I could find the money and get lessons with a teacher who won't laugh. The how doesn't matter, and I shouldn't fret over it. It's the doing that will matter. I don't expect to get the vocal range of Aretha Franklin or Christina Aguilera. But I want to sound good. As for guitar playing, I'm not too bad to begin with (since I've had classical training and I can read music). But I need to improve more, and learn more chords and scales (no, I don't know scales). This is the only way I'll be able to start writing my own music. As for lyrics...well, I can try not to suck.

9. Find a guy who's worth my time. No more of the shit I've been going through the past few months. I will find someone with whom I'll share mutual trust and respect, with whom I know I will have a good time with, and, ultimately, someone who's just as interested as me in a meaningful relationship. I'm not talking about marriage or commitment or anything that I'm leaving for my late twenties. I'm talking about a relationship in which the both of us can learn from each other and where we can both have a good time, laugh a lot and, in the end, love each other. Even if it doesn't happen, then I'll just switch this around to making the friendships I have with people, both IRL and online (if I have time to be online), stronger than they are.

10. Become a rock star. This goal of mine is crazy. It's insane. And I don't know why I made it. All I know is that I want nothing more than to take the stage and entertain crowds of people. This can be done through acting, but I want to do this with music now, with a group of people who share my interest of making kickass music, who don't mind that I'm frontwoman, and who want to have a great time and entertain people. I want the fame, the fortune, the fun, the women, the sex, the drugs, the talent and everything that all this comes with. But, mostly, if I can entertain people with my music and play guitar and sing my heart out, than I will be happy. This is also why I say goal #1's completion depends. If I get signed, then I probably won't have time to continue college properly this year, not until I at least finish the first tour and get a break.

Finally...

Bonus: Learn to love myself. I have the self-confidence. I have the strength. I have some of the maturity. I have people who believe in me and my potential. I have everything I need to make this year the year I want it to be: the best year of my life. All I need to do now is to love myself.

I will believe in myself. I will be kickass. I will tell myself, every day, that I am plenty fine the way I am. I'm going to live my life however the fuck I want to. I will give out kindness to those who earn it. And most of all, I will be myself the whole way.

I said it the other day to myself, I say it again today. This will be my year. Now, it's up to the world to be a part of it.

On goals

2006-12-21T17:17:00.000-04:00

Okay, here's what I want to accomplish next year.

1. If my parents do, indeed, move out (like they've been planning ever since we moved here almost ten years ago), get into NYU or UIC.
2. Get an electric guitar and become kickass at it.
3. Teach myself to sing.
4. Start a band.
5. Finish my novel/project Ripple. I have to finish sometime.
6. Get something published.
7. Get into a relationship that won't fail miserably/be more "exciting and passionate" or whatever shit/be more of a "girl".
8. Be more mature.
9. I dunno, see if I can drop about 50lbs. Ha.
10. Have way more fun.

These are merely goals though, I refuse to label them as "resolutions". That's like fucking kiss of death. So, I'll at least accomplish goal #2 by blowing whatever money I get this Christmas and buying that electric guitar I saw in Pentagrama the other day for $130. Maybe my dad'll pity me and buy me the amp. I could also try teaching myself to sing pretty soon. I have the advantage that I'm the opposite of tone deaf. Hell, I can tune an acoustic guitar by ear. Maybe if I apply that same natural knowledge to my voice, I can at least get to the point that my voice sounds nice, and I can pretend to sing. I could always sound like the girl who does Nana O.'s singing voice in the anime.

As for everything else, I'll just take them as they come. I don't want to let the year slip by, like I've felt this year has. Here's hoping 2007's better than 2006, folks.

On feelings

2006-12-14T18:20:00.000-04:00

I'd already posted this over in Sersapiente, but I don't know if anyone who frequents my blog goes there as well. It's a small bit of a story that came to me on a whim the other day. For something short, I feel it's well-written, most especially because it's in Spanish (and I tend to write mostly in English). I have no idea whether I'll expand on it in the future, seeing as I have three novels that have yet to be finished, and two of which are full-blown projects (since both will be part of trilogies). Still, I liked it a lot, and I feel like sharing.

sentimientos

Hace ya algunos años que te he visto. Para mí, quizás, no parece tanto. Éramos niños. O, para decirlo mejor, yo era un niño. Tú ya eras casi mujer. De cualquier manera, disfruté de mi tiempo contigo. Me acuerdo la primera vez que nos conocimos. Sentí como si yo fuera un héroe grande, salvándote del mal en ese momento. Luego, te prometí que te traería la paz que tanto deseabas para, no tan solo tu reino ni para la mía, sino para el mundo completo. Te prometí que pronto, todo se resolvería. Quizás mis palabras, palabras de un niño de doce años, te sonaron como promesas vacías, pero las hize con toda la convicción que mi ser tenía.

Pero hice esas promesas para tí, para tí nada más. Eras un ángel para mí, alguien que deseaba lo mejor para todos, sin importar de dónde eran or quiénes eran. Mientras viajamos con los demás, nos reímos de nuestros chistes, nos sentamos de noche para ver las estrellas, me dejaste llorar cuando conocí lo que le había pasado a mi padre...cuando conocí lo que realmente deseaba mi hermano mayor.

De vez en cuando, leo sus cartas. Me hacen sonreír de la manera que ninguna otra carta puede hacer. Me siento bien al saber de sus aventuras por el mar, libre para hacer lo que deseas, cuando lo desea. Sin embargo...se me está iendo su cara, sus expresiones, hasta su voz. Quisiera estar contigo, pero mi lugar es aquí, en mi reino, defendiendo la paz que traímos hace años. Quizás también haz encontrado que su calor es suficiente. Pero no me está mal. Si estás feliz, entonces seré feliz para ti también.

Me miro en el espejo, y casi ni reconozco la cara que me mira hacia atrás, la cara de un hombre casi, líder de un imperio. Quisiera verte, aunque sea la última vez, para recapturar las facciones de tu cara. Pero eres mejor fuera de aquí, libre y sin límites.

Aunque quizás yo sólo era un compañero, alguien con quien compartiste tu amistad, siempre te amaré, de lejos. Viva tu vida lo más que puedas, y seas feliz. Si hay dioses, espero que me hagan ese favor, por lo menos.

If you actually enjoy my writing, go take a look at what I've got posted at FictionPress. My first complete novel's up over there, as well as one of my two projects, and a plethora of short stories/random essays.

On setting your path

2006-12-13T14:54:00.000-04:00

Ha sido la polémica entre mi pai y yo desde hace años. Creo que desde que puedo acordarme de algo, siempre ha tenido una fiebre con empezar su propio negocio. It's changed over the years, what he wants his small business to be, but it never fails for my dad to come up with some stupid new plan of starting a business. And of course, he tries to drag me and my brother along. But usually, just me. He's wanted to start a cleaning business, a car repair business, an air-conditioner repair business, a translation business, a medical record business...the list goes on and on. He even went to Instituto de Banca y Comercio for a degree in air-conditioner repair (and refrigerators too, I don't remember).

Now, I wouldn't really mind these escapades of his so much if he'd just find people that actually share his interest in this sort of thing...excluding myself, my brother and my mother, since none of us care. But ever since we moved here, he's basically been forcing both my brother and I to "help" him with these things. By "help", I mean make us do all the work that needs to get done, without so much as even asking us if we're even interested, much less if we even want to do this. His excuse is that our mother doesn't want to help him, even though he thinks she should so she can be her own employer. News flash, mi querido padre, my mother never has, and never will be, interested in business. I don't know why you even bother.

He's been bothering my brother less and less about it over the years, mainly because he realizes that my brother's an artist, and artists usually don't care for business. On a side note, my brother confided in me that he did want to start his own business someday...just so long as our dad never realizes it. So this leaves my dad with me, his youngest kid and the smart one of the family. Lo and behold though, I'm exactly like mom. I hate business, I hate the idea of running one, of owning one, of all of it. My dad has been trying to get me interested over the years by saying that if I work for myself, I don't have to respond to anyone for anything, that I should major in business, ect ect. I started out as a Theater major, and will now be a Radio major. He tried telling me I could start my own theater. Now he'll probably tell me that I can start my own radio station. He fails to realize that I don't care.

And now, I have a huge pile of mom's old books here. She wanted us to donate them to a library. Instead, the "lightbulb" in dad's head goes off, and he decides to sell them. Fine. I ignore him whenever he talks to me about it for over a week. Then he gives them all to me, and tells me to write up all of them as a list, so we can sell them more easily. Fine. And then, last night, my worst fears came true: he said that this was going to be "our" business, that this was going to be my "part-time", and that whatever he earned, I earned. There's a problem though. I don't care. The only reason I've been working on the list all day today is because a. if I don't it'll piss him off; and b. if I don't even start today, it'll piss him off.

I sincerely think he was a failed business man in a past life. Why else would he be like this, honestly? Being a believer of Chinese astrology, it might also have to do with the complete and total incompatibility of our signs. Rabbits and Roosters should apparently run from each other as though the other carries an incurable plague. This doesn't help anything at all. I don't fault my dad for being a hard-worker, or for providing for my family for forever. Thank God for him. But I really do think that he's voluntarily blind to what really interests me and what I'm passionate about. I want to be a best-selling writer and a radio guru and maybe an actress. Better yet, I secretly want to be a famous rock star. On the rare occasion I talked to him about acting, it's almost never about how I like it. It's usually about how he has this friend of a friend of a cousin who's making a movie of sorts. Or how I should start my own theater once I get my third Ph.D. (because he's also constantly telling me I should get my Master's and Ph.D., neither of which I care about, not until I get my Bachelor's). He probably doesn't intend it to be viewed that way, but it makes him come off as kind of selfish, from my view.

What inspires my passion? The thought of starring on a Broadway play in front of a sold-out theater. The thought of performing live with my famous band in a sold-out arena. The thought of having my first novel become a best-seller and doing book signings, and hearing people give me their individual praises on my writing. Being an awesome radio guru and being cool and mainstream like that. Those are the things I like, those are the things that, now that I sit to think about it, are the things I've always loved. I've always loved writing, I've always loved music, and I didn't realize it till high school, but I love acting as well (and am talented to boot). I don't care to start a business or to be my own employer. I just want to live out my life the way I see fit. Even if I become none of the things I mentioned, it doesn't bother me to just finish college, get a normal job, do normal things, then retire at sixty-something and be done with it. But, I'm afraid that dad might just be trying to live his own failed fantasies through my brother and me, most especially me (since, as it were, we are also kind of similar).

Still, all I can do is write these book lists, hope that he'll lose interest, or, if I lose my temper, tell him that I don't care to participate in this venture of his. If I have kids though, I don't ever want to live my dreams through them. I want them to do what inspires them and what makes them happy, even if I don't agree with it all that much. When you do something that makes you passionate, it makes you happy. That's how I felt whenever I did acting in high school, or when I took guitar classes, or when I started and finished my first novel earlier this year. Striving to do better and to be the best is what makes me passionate, and it's what makes most people happy.

For the record, I'm not done with these book lists. I'll do them after dinner. My back hurts from being hunched over. At the least, I'm two-thirds done, so it won't be so painful or take so long.

Also, I really would change the size font, but I like it this way. I already tried it slightly bigger, but it just takes away the flavor of the current layout. But not to worry, when I feel like making a new layout in a few months, the font will change.

On cutting the strings that bind us

2006-12-11T21:55:00.000-04:00

I've gotta say, I love December here in Puerto Rico. The temperature drops to such a nice level that it feels comfortable. I always know that Christmas is officially afoot when a nice breeze starts blowing through my window, the one next to me. Or well, y'know, when stores and malls put out insane sales that turn people into savage animals almost. And for those that think it only happens on our fair island, fear not, it happens in the US too (and at times, is far worse). Seriously, I'm going to find the bastard that came up with the concept of "After Thanksgiving Sale" and punch them in the groin. If the person is male. If the person is female, then I'll punch their breasts.

Very recently, a girl that I spent a summer with, when I was about four or five, messaged me on MySpace, asking if she remembered who she was. She was my grandmother's neighbor, in the barrio of Minillas in San Germán, and some time later, she would move to Sabana Grande. She's some years older than me, I think by about four. That summer, we spent every day playing and doing random things. It was really fun and it made that summer much more exciting than it might've been. Our friendship could've gone a couple of different ways from there. We might've kept hanging out if my father had decided for sure that we were going to stay in San Germán. I remember that my parents even took me to Colegio San José to enroll me in kindergarten. If my family was, instead, returning to Germany (because my father was still in the Army), or if we were to move to Conneticut with my father's youngest brother, then we would've just kept writing to each other. As it turns out, we ended up in Conneticut, mainly because my father left the Army, so my friend and I became pen pals.

After awhile, though, we finally stopped writing, since we were each going in our separate ways. Though I'd think about her from time to time, I figured she might've forgotten all about me. Now, here's were things go a little "wait, wow, really?" Last year, when I was but a Sagrado freshman, slightly confused but not entirely lost (and I thank high school for that), among the many people I met, one of them goes by the name Paco. I suppose the relationship the two of us have are that of brother-sister, kind of. Anyway, the point was, I heard him talking about his girlfriend, who lives in Arizona, a couple of times, but I didn't pay much attention (perhaps because I was trying to sleep in between classes). Later, last Christmas, we had a quickie conversation over the phone, and he says that he's in Sabana Grande, spending time with his girlfriend and her family, who lives there. Though I was curious, I still didn't ask.

Then, I noticed on his MySpace that his #1 was a girl named Zeliann. The name hit me, because that was the name of my friend from years gone by. I had wanted to ask a bit more about her to Paco, but I kept putting it off because I felt that I might be wrong. Then, finally, a week ago, she messages me. And it turns out that I was right; this was the same girl I'd met so many years ago, who was dating someone we both met in completely different ways. I guess you can say I was more than a little surprised. I mean, this is one of those wild coincidences that almost never happen, and yet serve to make the world fill just a little smaller than it might be.

I think that it's a little ironic, though. Since I moved to Puerto Rico when I was ten, I'd done my best to cut the ties of my past. I'd only recently started thinking about it more when I played Final Fantasy XII, and learned about the character Balthier. Balthier is the sort of character that appears to be calm, cool and collected almost all the time, dashing and charming and not the type to permit others to tell him what to do or where to go. Yet, deeper down, he shows remorse for the path he's taken, and an intense desire to run from the path, to cut those strings for good, and instead, his past comes running after him, and is clearly the faster one. I think that's what's happening to me now.

In fact, now that I think about it, why am I trying to cut my past out? I can't even remember the reason. Maybe I just hated the person I used to be, and just wanted to get away from everything that had become attached to my memory of the person. If that's the case, though, then I'm always going to look for ways to severe ties, because I'm not particularly fond of who I am now. Hence, the entire premise and background of this blog, in title, sub-title and what my lil' sidebar now says. I'm trying to fix myself, but at the same time, not really. I simply just put out my usual self on, the one that's aloof and independent and rebellious and absent-minded, and I go about my day to day life. Yet, if and when the opportunity presents itself again, and this time when I'm more mature to handle it, I know that I'd try to cut my past out again, and this time for good.

But maybe, just maybe, I feel this way because I've already learned that home really is where the heart is, and doesn't need to be tied to a specific place or events. If I can say with conviction that my heart is content, wherever it is that I am and whatever I happen to be doing, then I'm home. I think, also, that I'd like to find someone to call home, even if I'm greatly cynical towards that concept at the moment (since I tried and failed miserably at that). Still, maybe I just need to keep on going forward in life, not looking back at the past that will always tie me with a string, until I find the solution that works best for me.

I like the December breeze here a lot, almost as much as the beaches here. Maybe that's home for me. I also plan on seeing Zeliann when she's visiting family in Sabana Grande. We sure have grown up.

On an unrelated side note, I'm still tinkering with my layout. In other words, I need to put in the footer, and make the text a little bigger for the visually impaired. :) I made a more comprehensive about me page.

On finding our voice

2006-12-10T16:18:00.000-04:00

As I flipped through my friends-page on LiveJournal this morning, sleepy from having gone to bed past 1am (I was at a Ragnarok Online marriage -- don't ask), I stopped scrolling all of a sudden. At that moment, I'd just been hit with a question. Why do people blog? Why do people keep journals on the Internet for all to see and read? I mean, really, is there a point? Writing a blog means you're expressing yourself on the Internet. But anyone who's been using the Internet since it became popular in the mid-90's will know that trends come and go faster than you can even type the word "trend". Plus, it's the Internet. It's as big as the universe itself almost. Finding the means to have your voice heard is both difficult and time-consuming. So anyone has to wonder why even bother.

During the time I've spent blogging, I've seen all types of blogs. I've seen blogs of 15 year old emo kids who can't spell to save their lives and usually make 8 entries a day (if not more). I've seen blogs that stream video of themselves. I've seen blogs that pretend to be the blogs of someone's pet. Basically, if there's a subject to write about, a blog also exists about it. It's similar to Rule #34, which is, there's porn of it, no exceptions. I imagine that Rule #34 a. would be, there's also a blog of it, no exceptions. Emo kids who don't do a damn asides cry virtual tears about how their lives suck and how no one understands? There's a blog. Bee hives? There's a blog. That old VCR of yours? If there isn't one of it yet, there will be. Yet, of all the countless blogs that exist out there, precious few will ever be known by a large amount of people.

So then, why? Good question. Why am I even writing? Another good question. I think the most appropriate answer is that we all want to have our voices heard, however insignificant it may be. 15 year old emo kids want to embarrass themselves by crying virtual tears. People want to tape themselves and get a chance to have someone see them (I'd do a video post if I had a video camera, for the record). Hell, maybe pets want to keep blogs themselves, so their owners do it for them. Let's face it, how many of us will ever publish the book of our lives, much less even write it? Let's pretend for a moment that I myself am an aspiring novelist. Anyway, maybe Internet blogging gives us all a chance to have our thoughts and voices heard, however insignificant it may be. In the process, those of us who were wondering where our voices were find them lying buried deep in the ground, and bring them to the surface. Or else we find how different our voices have become over the course of time.

That is the general blogging community. But what about me? Why the hell do I blog? I mean, I maintain about five different blogs. The two blogs that are of most importance at the moment are my LiveJournal and this blog, Can't you just fix me? One is my personal journal, the one in which I couldn't care less if I sound like an angsty 19 year old, and where I frequently display affection for my fandoms (it's the former). The other is the blog in which I write for sentences on end about anything that I think is important, in the most entertaining (or sarcastic, whichever) way I can possibly think of (it's the latter). Occasionally, I write some angst here too, but it's only when I feel I should. One blog is the one I only want certain people to read, because I've been writing in it since I was 16, hence there's immaturity and (shudder) emo (it's the former). The other is the blog that I want to become well-known someday (someday), and it's the latter. But why bother?

Well, I won't go on about why I keep my LiveJournal. As for this one...well, at first, it wasn't even intentional. I'd just read an article in El Nuevo Día about "how to blog" (snicker) around May of this year, and I decided that there shouldn't even be how-to guides on how to keep and maintain blogs. So I made this, with the intention of making each and every entry thought-provoking, even if it only a sentence or two was written. And here I am now, still writing. I must truly think that people enjoy reading sarcastic wisdom from someone who's barely lived for two decades (and only remembers one and a half of it). But see, I don't want my voice to just be "heard". I don't want to just "find" my voice either. I found my voice in high school, thank you, acting. I want to be listened to. When you hear something, you simply hear the random noise it's making. But when you listen to it, you're able to understand what it is that's trying to be said, be it someone's voice, the wind going by your ears, or the muffled ticking of your watch. It's not just random noise anymore; it's a voice. And I want my voice to not be random noise, I want it to be listened to and distinguished from other voices and singled out. I want people to stop and think, "hey, she actually says something somewhat important, let me stop and read this thing for awhile". If all my life, all people do is hear me, but not listen to me, then I've utterly failed.

Of course, maybe this correlates to the fact that I hold the lofty goal of becoming famous. Or maybe I'm just a 19 year old who thinks she knows everything and is really just an immature brat. I don't really care. Even if I'm never listened to, and simply heard, at the end of the day, I like writing here. It's an outlet. And I seem to be moderately entertaining, since I have a small (albeit loyal) audience.

In other news, I managed to completely redesign the layout of this blog, so it looks spiffy now. I even made the header myself. I feel awesome.

On who we are

2006-12-09T13:37:00.000-04:00

If there is anything I dislike reading or hearing about the most, it's when people like politicians, writers or professors, people who believe themselves to be more sophisticated and to be superior to the "common" people, write about how Puerto Rico, and the people who live in it, have no culture. Or, worse yet, when they write or say about how we have no identity.

I will give them the point of perhaps being partially right. We seemingly have no culture. Centuries of being a colony will do that to any place. We haven't had much of a chance to come into our own. That, however, doesn't mean that we have no culture whatsoever. The people who say that have, perhaps, been living here far too long to make that kind of acertation. Of course we have a culture. Any kind of society, no matter if it be a nation or a colony or a territory, has to have a culture. In fact, here's the definition of the word "culture":

cul·ture /ˈkʌltʃər/ Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation[kuhl-cher] Pronunciation Key - Show IPA Pronunciation noun, verb, -tured, -tur·ing.
–noun
1.
the quality in a person or society that arises from a concern for what is regarded as excellent in arts, letters, manners, scholarly pursuits, etc.
2.
that which is excellent in the arts, manners, etc.

Source: Dictionary.com

Culture (from the Latin cultura stemming from colere, meaning "to cultivate"), generally refers to patterns of human activity and the symbolic structures that give such activity significance. Different definitions of "culture" reflect different theoretical bases for understanding, or criteria for evaluating, human activity.

Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Culture">Wikipedia

Though we are perhaps not known for things such as literature, art or music (rather, we are known for boxers, beauty queens and rappers), this doesn't mean that we, as a culture, have not produced significant amounts of cultural advances. What about authors such as Luis Rafael Sánchez or Alejandro Tapia y Rivera? What about actors like Raúl Julia or Benicio del Toro? Or painters like Obed Gómez and José Campeche? Are you people trying to tell me that what they've achieved is nothing because we are a mere colony? Or that it's not enough? If it's not enough, then when will it be enough?

Personally, though, I believe that the problem is that, most of the people who tell us that we lack culture are the ones who either believe that the United States is more cultured, or they believe that we have been crushed by having been a U.S. colony over the decades. To me, however, the U.S. aren't any more cultured than we are. In fact, if we are to compare, the U.S. is just as cultured as we are. The U.S. hasn't been around for many centuries to begin with, and they are younger than we are. This is my personal opinion, but having been born in the U.S. and having lived there for about ten years, I don't see how we can't possibly have a culture and the U.S. has far too much. I think we're on equal ground, actually.

This opinion of mine correlates to my opinion of how we seemingly have no identity. I once thought that we Puerto Ricans had no identity either. I've been proven wrong, though, and it was when I was on the plane home from Chicago. As the plane landed, all I could think of was, "this is home, I'm home". Anywhere you go in the world, if you find a fellow Puerto Rican, you'll know it automatically, and you'll fraternize and talk and mutually miss the mother land. We take our pride for our home wherever we go. I hardly see that in Americans, to be perfectly honest. To them, it doesn't really matter that much. But to most Puerto Rican who move outside the island, it's almost like they're simply visiting the outside world. We remember things like how it always rains in August, or family get-togethers at the beach where everyone pitches in to bring beer and food, or the Fiestas Patronales, or most of all, the way we celebrate Christmas.

I think that we Puerto Ricans, along with many other people from other countries, exhibit the trait that I believe Americans have lacked for a long time, and that is pride in ourselves. Yes, our economy's a mess. Yes, our politicians are about as diplomatic as 800 pound gorillas. And yes, we still have problems with things like poverty, unemployment and education, among other things. But those of us who truly believe in who we are as people also believe that if we continue to take pride in ourselves, if we continue to make good literature and music and art, if we keep taking strides internationally in the music and movie industry, if we work together to fix our recurring problems, these are the people who make our culture, and make it even stronger. To say we are culture-less, to say we are color-less even, is to say that we have no pride in who we are, and that just isn't really true at all.

For those who think that the solution to our problems is to become a U.S. state, will that really fix everything, when we are so opposite from the U.S. to even be a state? For those who think that becoming an independant country will solve our problems, how will that work when our economy's in shambles? For those who think that staying the way we are, a mere colony, is the best cop-out, are you truly content with staying stagnant for however long? I'm not trying to make you question your beliefs, whatever beliefs you may have, but solutions come when we look at both the big picture and the smaller details. If we want to prove that our pride in ourselves is not for nothing, then we have to work to make it so.

In the meantime, quit writing about how we're a black hole of degradation and go get some coquito. It's fucking Christmas time.

On the march of time

2006-12-08T23:38:00.001-04:00

No, seriously, this is why I really need to get back to updating this blog at least three times a week. I ignore it, and then I have the problem of thinking of how best to organize my thoughts in a somewhat cohesive manner (even though I myself am not a very cohesive person 99.9% of the time). See, I don't think I have ADD...but I do recognize that I have a short attention span. So unless I'm focusing all of my brain, it's impossible for me to be cohesive. Right now, I'm writing this as I write in my LiveJournal and as I consider where I should go next in Final Fantasy XII.

But, then again, there's a good place to start, Final Fantasy XII. For those of you in the audience who play video games and play RPGs (all three of you), you're more than likely familiar with the Final Fantasy series. Most people say it's the best series out there with the best games, ect ect, but that is not my opinion. Personally, the best one (and perhaps the most beautiful RPG ever created) is Final Fantasy VI, for the SNES (with a PS1 remake and soon a GBA remake). FFVII is overrated, FFVIII had a stupid plot, and FFX had crappy characters with a plot that I hate. I don't have anything on FFIX, I love that game. Now, since FFXII had been in development for five years, I had my doubts on this game. But wow, was I wrong to doubt it. I think I love this game almost as much as I do FFVI. It's beautifully made graphically, with the CGs being far better than the CG in FFVII: Advent Children. And the plot...talk about intelligent and cohesive. The characters are all likeable, and not a single one has made me cringe in a "oh sweet Jesus what is he/she thinking?!"

In terms of mechanics, it plays like an offline MMORPG. This is both good and bad. It's good because it means that battles are very quick and rely on efficiency. This is also bad, because it's as hard as an MMO. I've spent 30+ hours on the game, and I'm not even half-way through, because I need to devote half of my time to leveling up and getting loot to sell to buy spiffy equipment and weapons. I wouldn't have such a problem with gil (FF's currency) if enemies dropped it along with loot, but sadly, that's not the case. As for character's stats and such, all six party members are more or less even, but each character is more suiteable for one role than another. This also applied to weapons (I can't imagine having Penelo using guns, something Balthier uses as default). As for difficulty, this game is not the cakewalk FFX was for about 80% of the time. You will break a sweat trying to beat these bosses, starting from the very first one. Strangely, this doesn't bother be, because I spend $50 for a game, it better damn well be worth my time. So, overall, it comes SO close to topping FFVI as my all-time favorite, but I need to beat the game to decide for sure on that.

Asides wasting time on Final Fantasy XII, life has been moving at a good pace for me. Much of my time has been divided between getting everything together for the January semester in Sagrado, looking for a part-time job in the San Juan area (specifically, Plaza las Américas) and keeping the house together while the family's out during the day. In Sagrado, where I was once a Theater major, I'm now majoring in Producción y Mercadeo para la Radio. I realized that, as much as I love acting and the theater, I'll be living in a box with the amount of pay I'd get from doing it. Radio is something I both like and can give me a steady salary once I'm finished. But I do plan on getting a minor in Proyección Escénica, so my Theater classes won't go to waste. I don't know, but between you and me, I find it strange that I study in Sagrado. It's the most expensive university on the island, and hence, is a haven for rich kids and whatnot. The student body and the atmosphere are the exact opposite of me, which makes me wonder why I didn't just study in UPR in Río Piedras. Maybe I like being weird. That, and the education in Sagrado is pretty damn good anyway.

As for the part-time, I've applied at Borders, Claire's, Journey's, The Children's Place and PacSun. I already had an interview with Borders, and they informed me that they'd call me in January, when I said I was available, to tell me if I've been hired or not. Everywhere else, I'm still waiting. If I don't get hired, I guess I'll just do work-study, because part of the reason I want the job while I study is to help pay off my studies (plus spending cash). I think I might get work-study even if I get hired, because the more I earn to pay off whatever I owe, the better it'll be for my parents. If it ends up like that...I'm more than likely not to even be able to relax till Thanksgiving next year (since I plan on taking summer class as well). Still, I won't really mind, because I like to be busy and do different things.

Another thing I'll be doing (God forbid if I can find the time) is working out at night at Sagrado's gym. I've been working out almost ever since I've come back home, since I realized that the only way to stay the weight I am now (160lbs) is to work out, since I'm actually eating food now. Personally, I'm lazy and I hate sweating, but I'm doing it because I should. I want to get back in shape, at any rate. In terms of what I do 'round the Internet, I've been detaching myself from my usual forums and such, mainly because I won't have time for it anymore, and because I want a disconnect. I still do plenty of blogging though. My LiveJournal is the one I usually update with most frequency, since that's my personal journal. My other blogs vary. I'll be updating this one more often, as I come up with more things to write/rant about. I guess I just haven't had the motivation for it lately, and I simply felt the need to update this blog's audience on how my life goes.

As for relationships and all that, I'm not quite sure what to say. I've got a date practically set up next month when I move back to Sagrado's dorms, which will involve seeing a movie, then probably hooking up and having sex. The guy's cool, and I've known him since 2005, when I started in Sagrado. But there're a couple of problems. The first, smallest problem is the fact that I kind of like another friend of mine, who (as my infamous luck would have it) is taken. I'm not the type of bitch to steal guys who are taken (though I am a bitch in many other aspects), so I'm trying to content myself with staying good friends with the guy. The second, also pretty small problem, is that, with the guy I've got the date with, I'm not sure where I want to go with it, if anywhere at all. I had the same problem the first time around (yes, I did go out on a date with him previously).

And the last, very very big problem, is my current state of unrequited love with my ex. See, I thought I'd be over him by now, because I've always been over my previous ex's after a few weeks. But, here I am, almost two months later, and I can't seem to get over him, hard as I try. I've got a very bad case of unrequited love here, and I'm not sure what to do about it. The main problem here, though, is that I want to be over him, so I can stop being cynical, bitter and (sometimes) depressed (since I'm none of these, most people will tell you I'm a very sweet person). But, at the same time, I want to hold on anyway because I still love him very much, like we humans tend to do at times with people. It's even harder now, since I learned, through a mutual friend of ours, that he doesn't seem to be fine with the break-up either. I thought he would be, since his reasons for ending the relationship were because he didn't feel passion for me anymore, and that he didn't want a serious relationship anymore. I figured he'd be having the time of his life. To learn that he's feeling hurt too...I can't quite describe it.

Finally, last but not least, new music recommendations! Or just recommendation. I've been listening to a lot of The Red Paintings lately. They're an Australian band, and I saw them live at first when I saw The Dresden Dolls at The Vic in Chicago. I'd been meaning to download music by them, but only recently did I see anything on LimeWire. They're amazing, they're the exemplification of the experimental genre, mainly for their usage of visual art in both their CD covers and their live shows. When I saw them live, they were dressed as Japanese geishas, squids and ghosts. And their music is beautiful. I keep listening to their track called Walls, since they played it live. It still gives me the same feeling, the feeling of just being lifted from your body and getting lost. I also recommend World Leader Pretend. It's great indie rock.

I believe that's the majority of what I intended to express. I now leave you all with this.

Come on, it's cute! The moogles in FFXII are adorable. I wish I could ask for a live one for Christmas, but they're not real...

On snow

2006-11-26T14:30:00.000-04:00

I've come to realize that I've come full circle from this time last year. I started a certain way, and now I'm ending that same certain way. So I'm going to write with no inhibitions, and with no fear of what people will say/comment.

I still remember that night, when Rob told me that he liked me. For the record, I'm calling him Rob like everyone else from now on. I might still love him, but I have to break away from those feelings if I want to move on. Calling him Sam was part of that (and part nostalgia). But more on that later. Anyhow...I couldn't believe it when he told me. A guy like him would like a girl like me...it didnt' seem to make sense. But I liked him back. So it was all okay. It was better than okay, it was great. The ten months that happened afterwards were memories that I'll hold close to my heart for a long time. If there is a positive thing I can say I gained, it's that I learned to accept myself a little more. I might not be the best person, and I might be good for nothing, but I am who I am, and I can't change that. There are good things about me and there are bad things about me, but I just focus too much on the bad things for whatever the reason.

I don't think he ever loved me during that time though. He might've liked me, he probably cared about me, but love, probably not. Yet, I believed that we had a good thing going. I believed we'd be together for a long time. Comparing to other guys before him, I felt comfortable, like I could be myself and it was fine. From time to time, he'd say weird things that'd throw me off, but I kept it to myself and let it slide because I felt that they were silly things anyway. I let him come closer to the real me and to my heart than I'd let anyone else. I didn't want to love him because I knew he didn't love me. I just wanted to like him. But I fell in love with him anyway. And I loved him. I gave my heart out, because I felt that I finally could. I hadn't done that with anyone before. That's also the reason I decided my first time would be with him.

But, just as I remember the day he told me he liked me, I also remember the day he broke up with me just as well. I was happy to hang out with him, as usual, doing whatever to kill off boredom. But then he pulled me aside, and told me we had to talk. I knew what he was gonna way before he even said it. He said that he didn't want to be in a serious relationship anymore, that the passion he had for me was gone. He said I was a cool girl, that he'd still support me, but as a friend. I asked him if it was anything I did. After a moment, he said no. But I know he was lying. Of course it was me. I'm always "one of the guys". I'm not girly enough. I don't find it necessary to strike up conversation for no reason. I was no good. We made love, and now I was no good. I wish I hadn't cried in front of him. I should've just run to his room, grabbed my stuff, and left without looking at him in the eye again. What he might not have realized is that, I might be "one of the guys", and I might be tough and strong and independent on the outside...but on the inside, I have the feelings and emotions of any other girl. I get hurt. My heart can be broken. And that's what happened.

But I saw it coming. I could feel him disconnecting since a couple weeks before. I thought he was just having bad days, because that sort of thing could happen to anyone. But that was just a lie I told myself, so I could keep hoping that maybe he still wanted me. Maybe if I'd just asked directly and ended it myself it might not have hurt as much. But I held on as tight as I could, because I didn't want to lose him. I loved him. I wanted us to last for a long time. But why couldn't that be so? Where did I go wrong? Where did we go wrong? I still don't have all the answers.

For at least a week, I didn't know what to do next. I don't think Manda noticed if I was even depressed at all. I'm sure she knew that something was wrong though, especially since I stopped bringing Rob up in normal conversation. I didn't want to think about him. I'd think about his face, his smile, his lips, his voice, and I'd push it away just as fast. But, I already knew. I was too broken to keep on going the way I was. If I did, I'd just get worse and worse...and I didn't want that. I knew that coming home wouldn't be without retributions, but I had to make amends anyway...so I decided to come home, and pick life back up where I left it as best I could. So I'm home now. In the end, I was right. Coming home was a good decision.

But not a day goes by that I don't think about him. I'll just be daydreaming on my bed listening to music, and our song'll pop up, and I'll think of him again. I still love him. Lots of people have told me things like, "it's his own mistake, he doesn't know a good thing when he sees it", or "you shouldn't let a prick get in your way", or "you're better than him, you'll find someone who'll appreciate you". It's just proof that, really, no one seems to quite understand how hurt I am, nor how much I still love him. If they did, they wouldn't say things like that. I love him more than words can express...but he doesn't love me. He never has loved me. It's all one-sided. It's the cruelest form of unrequited love you can imagine, because you still love the person who broke your heart because he wished to be cruelly selfish and immature.

Actually, I kind of like someone right now. But, true to my luck, he got himself a girlfriend recently. And I think he just loves me as a sister of sorts. I'm just no good, huh? No matter what it is I want, or what it is I decide, it's just not right. It's not just in love or guys. It's in everything. Going to college wasn't right. Moving out wasn't right. I'm back home, and the plan I have is to live, work and study in San Juan, but that will probably end up not being right either. And here I'm just going to continue letting my heart fall apart and just let myself go in worthless one-night-stands with men I won't even remember in a week. I've been quite blessed in life, and extremely lucky, but ever since I graduated from high school, nothing seems to fall into place anymore.

It's just no good anymore. Nothing I do does any good. All I want right now is for him to like me again (not love, he didn't love me). Or for all the memories I have of him to just go away. Or for me to forget it all. Or for me to just stop loving him. You all think, oh wow you're so cool and awesome and amazing and independent and tough. No, I'm none of that. Just realize that I'm nothing. I already have.

So, that was supposed to make me feel better, and it didn't. Hell, I'm going back to FFXII. Also, some time this week, I will write a less depressing entry. More than likely, it will be video game-centered, since much has happened in the industry, and I feel I should ~~rant and verbally beat Sony to death~~ write about it.

On living

2006-11-09T19:51:00.000-04:00

The past three months sure have been strange. But they've also been life-altering. I think, what I really wanted most, deep down, was clarity, and a sense of where to go in life. I didn't have that three months ago. I wasn't sure of what I wanted. I thought that maybe going off to Chicago would give me the answers I needed. And I was right, even if it wasn't the way I was planning it to be. I'm more defined now that I ever was before. I know where I want to go now. I want to finish what I've started. And I'm done being rebellious and being a misfit (mostly).

I've learned that love doesn't mean shit. I've learned that even if you make mistakes in the eyes of others, you can still be forgiven and redeemed. I've even learned that there's still kindness to be found in random places. I've learned that, unless you're a crack addict, you shouldn't work at a Disney Store. I've learned that happiness can be found anywhere if you look for it. I've learned that sometimes, you can go back and fix a mistake, and that not everything is irreversable.

Most of all, though, I've learned not to give up. I've learned and seen for myself that I really do have the inner strength and to carry on, to move forward and to make decisions. I've learned that no matter how many times I fall, that no matter how many times I get stabbed and thrown to the ground, that I still somehow have the resiliance to get right back up. I've learned that, in a few years, I will be even stronger, and that I will have the strength to make my ambitions and dreams come true.

I'm going to miss the people I met here. Even though I've got a love-hate thing for him at the moment, I'm going to deeply miss Sam. I hope that the next time I see him, it'll be him in the front row of my future band's sold-out concert. I'm going to miss the people I met at DePaul, even if I didn't really know them that well. I'll also miss Justin. I wish we could've gotten closer.

Most of all, I'm going to miss Manda, more than I can put in words. I've got a deep feeling in my gut that I'll be seeing her again in a few years, when we're older ('cause she's Nana Komatsu, and I'm Nana Oosaki)...but I'm still going to very much miss her.

You've given me a lot, Chicago. And who knows, I might be back in some years. It was good while it lasted.

On NaNoWriMo

2006-11-03T21:40:00.000-04:00

No, the title is not some insane combination of letters I put together at random. They stand for "National Novel Writing Month". November is the month for novel writing, and in its honor is the webpage NaNoWriMo. Basically, you sign up, and for the month of November, are given the challenge to write a novel of 50,000 words. It's all about quantity, not quality, so that, in the end, people who've always wanted to write a novel can say they have. Being a writer already, I decided it'd be fun to participate. Thus far, I have 4,900 words, and I started yesterday.

Now, since what I'm writing is the closest you'll ever get to figuring out how my brain works, I think I'll post the first chapter here. Please note, it's not supposed to be the most stellar work of writing. I'm just trying to get to the 50,000 word goal. But you might have fun reading it anyway.

Who am I? I’m no one. I’m nothing. I’ve achieved nothing in my nineteen year life asides failure and disappointment. I wish I could say I gave a damn about who I was, but I don’t. Why bother anyway? No one really cares. I constantly wonder where I’ve gone wrong in life to get to where I am now, but it’s all a blur to me. There are so many places I seem to have taken the wrong path or where I should’ve done one thing instead of the other. I do remember a time in which I was normal, or at least normal by society’s definition. It was easier then. People loved me and I loved them. So I wonder what ever happened to that comfort, that fallback of fallbacks. When did I start saying, no I don’t want to be normal, I don’t want to conform, I don’t care anymore. When did I think, who the fuck cares about the social norm? Why not just break out of that and be who you want to be and say what you want.

Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind. Have I ever truly found someone who believes in that though? One way or another, nothing is ever good enough for people. I’m too normal. I’m not normal enough. I think and I say and I do, and it’s never right. I’m told I’m fine the way I am, only to be told that I’m too boring in the end, that I wasn’t enough to keep the spark alive. But then how do I be entertaining enough? How do I stop being boring? How do I draw the line of normalcy and extroversion?

I am weird. I’m too weird for most social norms. The only thing that gives me the illusion of normalcy is the fact that I don’t dress in a chicken suit while wearing a towel for a cape singing Bohemian Rhapsody through an elementary school park. But I have considered doing more than once or twice. I just lack the chicken suit to do it. But what’s to say if I did do it? What would society say about me? They’d just say, “hey look, it’s the crazy chicken girl! Sing another Queen song goddammit!” But I don’t know any other Queen song. How about I dress as an alien and sing Stairway to Heaven? I want to climb stairs to heaven and be saved by heaven. But then there’s that bastard Peter waiting at the gates.

“So, what’s your name?”

I’ll say, “my name’s Di.” He’ll pull out his list, take a good look through it, and find my name writing in HUGE, BOLD letters.

“Oh, so you’re Di. Wow. You’ve racked up quite a reputation, Chicken Girl.” And of course, I’ll take offence to that, because I’m quite proud of my chicken title, and I’ll just burst through the gates, towards the huge office God owns all the way in the back. I’ll walk past the hoards of dead people in line, waiting to ask the exact same question. Move aside, I’m not here to ask a question like the meaning of life. No one cares, we all know the answer’s forty-two. My question is far more important. Or, maybe not that important, just different in a very small way.

After about a day or two of pushing past the line, there’s the man himself, sitting in his chair, a smile on his face. I’m inclined to ask as to why he’s smiling, but I push the thought aside. No, I’m asking him this question if it’s the last thing I do.

“Alright God, I know I’m probably not meant to be here in heaven. Or if I was, I’m now going to be directed to hell for pushing past the line. Anyway, I just want to know. Why am I the way I am? Why wasn’t I born normal, or with normal sensibilities? Why the fuck did you make me so fucking weird goddammit?”

And he keeps sitting there, and he keeps smiling, and he says to me, “Well, I made you that way because not everyone should be normal. Normal people keep the world going ‘round at a normal pace, but you see, the weird people like you change the world. It’s yin and yang.”

I stare, and ask, “since when was God a Taoist?”

He shrugs and says, “It makes more sense than Catholiscism ever will. Don’t let others tell you differently. Anyway, I’m feeling nice, so how ‘bout you stay here in heaven? There’s a nice suite right over here…” I shrug and turn back.

“Thanks but no thanks, I’m going back home.”

As I turn to leave, I hear God’s voice yelling back at me, “By the way, the answer to life’s 7! That’s why it’s a lucky number!” Seven…no wonder. Those bastards lied to me! But it’s off to home with me, time to figure out where exactly it was I left off. As I start opening my eyes, I see this huge bright light blinding me. Oh God, oh God, I’m dead, I’m blind, help me Freddie! Wait, I was dead. Now I’m alive again. The light’s just too damn bright. There’s only one place where a light would be like that…and it would be a hospital. Fuck, I’m in the hospital. A doctor’s next to me, even though I’m temporarily blinder than usual.

“Hey Doc, what’s wrong with me?” I can’t quite see, but the doctor’s probably smiling amicably.

“You were tap dancing on a stairway rail. Here, there’s your hat and cane.” Tap dancing? I don’t fucking remember that.

“What was I doing tap dancing?” I ask.

“Witnesses say you were dancing and singing Led Zepplin’s Stairway to Heaven.” Wow, no wonder I made it to heaven! I love you Led! I’d ask you to marry me if you weren’t a fucking pothead! And not already dead from chocking on your own vomit for downing sixteen shots of vodka. Potheads…God I hate potheads. Hey, look at me, I’m doing an illegal drug and getting high and making a fucking asshole of myself! Yeah, so life’s too fucking hard, let’s make it all go away by doing a drug that’ll make you brain dead in ten years, guaranteed. Oh no, it’s much better for you than a cigarette or alcohol. Fuck you, you’re fucking destroying something anyway. A cigarette destroys your lungs. Alcohol destroys your liver. Pot destroys your BRAIN. Do you like being BRAIN DEAD? I sure don’t. In fact, I’d rather die of chocking on my vomit because of too much vodka. Vodka can at least taste good. I can’t taste anything with pot and it just fucks up my head. Go ahead and be brain dead, I sure as fuck won’t be.

Lying in my hospital bed, I hear two guys talking about how a girl’s not sexy if she smokes. “Fuck you two, you fucking hypocrites!” I yell out. God, why is it not acceptable for girls to do some things? Why is it not sexy for a girl to smoke? Because guys do it too? Because it makes her skin wrinkly over the years, because she’ll start coughing and hacking LIKE GUYS WILL TOO? Go fuck yourselves in the asses. I don’t know about most of you, but I’d rather smoke a cigarette than shoot up heroin or crack. People start up on that, and it’s almost impossible for them to get out. They want a way out of it. It’s a similar feeling to what I have now, in my hospital bed.

I want to get out. I don’t know where I’m going or why I’m getting up, but I’m up and walking and heading out the door. I’ll go and go and go and never return. I’ll leap out and fly away, fly like a bird should fly. Why can’t humans fly? I want to at least feel that same sensation. I want to fly and fly and fly. I hate to be trapped in one place, unable to move forward, stagnant and never moving. I hate it. Yet, even if I could fly, I wouldn’t know where I’m going. I’d be lost and directionless, same as always. I hate that too. It’s not as though I need to plan out a direction in life. I just like to know where I’m going, like here in this hospital. At least here there’re signs and words printed everywhere, and I can read where I’m going and see where I’m gong. I’m taking the elevator to the first floor now, and heading out to my car, which is here for some reason, and I’m driving home. But I have no real home. Home’s just a place that I’m still searching for. It’s out there, and I’ll find it someday, but I have no idea when I’ll find it.

As I start driving back to wherever home is, it hits me. Led Zepplin isn’t a person…it’s a band! Fuck, how’d I confuse that one up? I wonder if I can marry a band. Wait, one of the member’s is dead. I can’t marry the whole band. I’d be marrying part of a band, and that just wouldn’t be right. Still though, the way they talk about a stairway to heaven…I wonder if maybe they found a direct path to eternal afterlife nirvana. I didn’t even know that was possible, but this band found it! They had to have found it, otherwise, why else would they write a song about it? It’s like the Elvis Presley conspiracy all over again. And why not? If Elvis can still be alive, than there must be a direct stairway to heaven too. I’d be willing to bet my life on it. Actually, that’s what I’ll do. But where do I start? The song never actually says how to get to the stairway. The song simply mentions it in passing, kind of like how My Chemical Romance managed to make a crappy album and label it “rock opera” in passing. God that was a piece of musical crap.

Scaramouche, scaramouche, shall we do the fandango? My chicken suit tendencies’re still in full swing. Alright then, let’s do the fandango. I figure, though, that the only way to find out for sure where the stairway is, is to die again. I wonder how many people have had the privilege to say that they’re going to die again. Not many people die twice in a row. From what I hear, most people just kick the bucket and stay dead. Not me though. I died, I gave God the ol’ one-two, and I came back. Well, I didn’t really give him the one-two, since I probably wouldn’t have survived that. But I did ask him what I wanted to know and he told me. That, and something perplexed me. God is a Christian deity. So why is he practicing Taoism? What kind of Christian God practices an Asian religion? The only thing that could’ve made it more confusing is if God told me he were Wiccan.

That sealed it for me. I needed answers, and I was going to get ‘em. Now, time to decide how to die. I need to keep my body intact so I can come back, so being run over and things like that were out of the question. Luckily, due to the fact that I wasn’t paying attention to the speed at which I was driving and was too busy listening to Tainted Love by The Clash, I ended up crashing straight through a Starbucks. My brakes were also apparently shot, so I went through not just one Starbucks, but three Starbucks, till finally, my car collided with a pole and it stopped. Damn, I wanted to keep my body intact. Well, all my limbs are still in place. I’ll deal with the collateral later.

So, it’s a stairway to heaven I’m looking for. Therefore, I’m looking for the Christian afterlife. So…why am I reading a sign in Arabic? Where the fuck am I? There’s a man standing next to the sign, so I figure I may as well ask.

“Sir, would you mind telling me where it is I am?” He says nothing, only staring straight at me. I get the feeling he’s a stalker of sorts, so I decide that maybe, just maybe, it’d be a good idea to start running as fast away from him as I possibly could. Thankfully, my feet are one step ahead of me, as I realize that the man is already feet and feet past. But I still don’t know where I am. As I run, I trip on something that’s lying on the ground. I can’t see how, considering I’m running in a place of nothing but flat desert, but as I dig up the thing I tripped over, I realize that it’s a book. What the hell’s a book doing in the sand? I blow off the excess sand on the cover. Finally, the letters make sense to me. It reads “KORAN”. The Koran is for Muslims…which means I’m in the Muslim afterlife. Goddammit! How hard is it to go to the CHRISTIAN afterlife? I was driving my mother’s car! She has a rosary dangling from the review mirror, a statuette of the Virgin Mary on the dashboard, and a cross in the cupholder. It all just screams “I’m a Hispanic Catholic!” And now I’m in Muslim afterlife, which is, thus far, a long-reaching desert with seemingly no end. It must suck to be Muslim. The extremists are all taught that to be granted a path to heaven they have to sacrifice themselves in God’s name, and they get stuck here first.

Wait…I kind of sacrificed myself in God’s name, even though I just died in a car accident. Maybe that’s why I’m here. So, now I know why I’m here, time to figure out how to get moving. And here I’ve been thinking for the past half-hour, that I’ve been completely ignoring the sign that stands right next to me, pointing towards the…well, let’s say north, since I have no idea where I am. Hey, it’s a sign, and as I was always told, if you see a sign, you should follow it. And so I follow. And follow. And follow. Until finally, all energy is sapped from my legs and I’m forced to collapse onto the sand. I can’t move now. And I’m still trapped in the desert. I think I might die here. What a sad and pathetic way to die. But…wait…aren’t I already dead? My eyes snap open, and all of a sudden, I’m not in a desert. I’m in a forest, and a very lush one at that. It’s awesome. But how’d I get here?

“Hey, you’re finally awake!” I jump a little, completely startled. A guy, tall and completely unshaven, hands me a can of soda.

“Here, you look thirsty.” I stare at him.

“Uh…are you Jesus?” He shakes his head.

“No.” I pop open my can of soda.

“Well, if you're not Jesus , than who are you?”

“I'm Jesús.” I stare some more.

“That's the exact same thing as Jesus, only pronounced in Spanish.”

“True! But I am not the Lord Jesus Christ. I'm just a cheap imitation who's been cast away to the outskirts of the various different religious afterlives. I serve as a guide to people who are lost, like you seem to be.” Well, the guy just gave me soda and I’m no longer stuck in some aimless trail along the desert. I think I can take his word for it.

“Fair enough, I guess. I'm not really lost lost though. I'm just trying to find the stairway to heaven, and instead I end up in the Muslim afterlife, what with all the Arabic signs....” Jesús shakes his head.

“No, no, these are the outskirts to the afterlife. Everything's just in Arabic because we don't feel like translating it into English. We're in Eden right now, the gateway to the gateways of the afterlife.” So they have billions of deities of all shapes and sizes, but they can't be bothered to put different languages. Well, it's not that much of a surprise when I think about it. It's kind of like when you go to a Korean airport and everyone's speaking broken Engrish. It's just the inherent laziness in us all. But then I realized something else.

“Hey Jesús...why'd you give me soda? Isn't water healthier?” He shakes his head.

, no no no, you see, soda is the primordial soup of life. One sip is supposed to regenerate all disease and ailments. It's the best thing since sliced bread.” I think I've died and gone to heaven. Well, I'm not in heaven yet. I'm in the outskirts of what could potentially be heaven. But I'm not there yet. Still, if soda is the essential of the afterlife, then I think I can get used to being here.

“So,” I say while standing up, “you seem to be a pretty good guide. Howzabout guiding me to the gate of gates then?” Jesús stands up as well.

“I thought you said you weren't lost. Well, I may as well. Follow me now.” He turns, and begins walking deeper into the forest. As I follow, I'm starting to wonder about this quest of mine. What if it all turns out to be like Dante's Inferno, and I'm being led down the nine layers of Hell? That'd sure be something. I'll wish I were alive again. I hope my body hasn't been buried yet. But, this Jesús guy doesn't seem to be shady. I can trust this dirty hippie. Finally, I see this huge, iron door at the end. I wonder if this hippie can actually open it, but my doubts are unfounded, as he simply pushes it open. I'm still staring, but I come to my senses fairly quickly, seeing as there's no blinding light like there was when I was in the hospital. That was at least one thing to be thankful of. And, to my great disappointment, the entrance of entrances is nothing but a gathering room of more doors, with simple signs at the entrances. Most of them seem to say “Heaven ([this religion's] version)”, but one or two doors say differently, like “Nirvana”.

“This is kind of anticlimatic, don't you think?” I say out loud. Jesús shrugs.

“It's just the entrance. Why bother decorating it if all people do is walk through the appropriate door?” It'd help a little to make the place seem more welcome at the least. But that's not important. “So,” he continued, “where exactly are you headed?”

I looked again at the signs. Not a single one of them was explicitly labeled as “Stairway to heaven”. This could take awhile.

“Well,” I say, “the problem is, I'm looking for the stairway to heaven, and I don't exactly know where that is.” Jesús turns and looks at the signs.

“Hmm...y'know, I've never heard of a stairway to heaven. I don't know if it's supposed to exist, even, especially when you see all the different types of heaven here.” I nod.

“I know. But haven't you ever heard Led Zepplin's song, Stairway to Heaven? If there's a song written about it, there HAS to be an actual stairway somewhere! So, I decided to die again and find it.” Jesús gave me a dubious look, as I somehow expected him to. But he had to listen! And he had to believe! You don't write songs about things that don't exist! There's just no way!

“Well, I think you're crazy and that maybe you should be sent back to your half-mangled body lying in that wreck of a car, but hell, I don't call the shots.” He paused for a second, pulling out a cigar. “Let's go on this crazy adventure of yours.”

Yes! Sweet! Success! I've got an ally now! Victory shall be mine! Heil Zepplin! Or, uh, Freddie. Wait, no, heil me dammit. No one cares about washed-up classic rock bands.

On who I'm becoming

2006-11-02T20:23:00.000-04:00

I hate the person who's supposed to be me right now. I think it's just best to start this entry off with that statement. Before getting as to why exactly, let me at least cross out any potential reasons you (the readers) maybe thinking of. I don't hate the person I'm becoming because I've done something terribly drastic, such as murdering, stealing, ect. If I had murdered someone, I sure as hell won't be writing it on a public Internet blog for all the world to see. I don't hate the person I'm becoming because of some radical shift the world's taken. In fact, I'll just sum this up by saying that I don't hate the person I'm becoming because of my self-esteem or for any physical action I've done. So I suppose normal psychology is out of the picture here.

I hate the person I'm becoming because the change is a very subtle one, to start off. I haven't been making this huge, drastic change overnight. The essence of who it is I am is the same as it's always been, and I doubt that would ever change unless I inherit the mental diseases that seem to proliferate on my dad's side of the family (even though I apparently already exhibit signs of schizotypal...but to me, that's just a fancy version of the word "weird"). The change that seems to be happening is a very slight one, a very slow one, which exhibit no signs on the outside. Unless a person knows me very well, I doubt they'd even pick up this subtlety. Thankfully, only about five people know me very well. One of those is the one who perhaps instigated this change, but more on that later.

The problem with this subtle change is that, in spite of it being not very obvious, it's completely permeated the way I once viewed some things. I'll admit it straight out. Up until recently, I've been a natural romantic. I'm the type who wants to be married by around 27 or 28, and stay happily in married for the rest of my life, and to continuously love the person I marry. Now though...well, now I want nothing to do with the idea of marraige, with the idea of serious relationships or with the idea of, dare I say it, love. My view now is that it's all a huge waste of time that has no merits in the end, other than heartbreak and depression. In the end, the opposite end doesn't want love or happiness, they just simply want something else out of it, and once done, they just toss you aside as though you meant nothing at all to them.

And right now, all I want to do is give a good punch in the face to my ex-significant other, who started this subtle change in me. You make me believe that love actually exists. You make me believe that you'll never find anyone like me or be as passionate about me as anyone else. And then what happens? All of a sudden, you lose that passion, that spark that made everything seem magical. You do the deed with me, and you toss me to the side. You don't need me anymore. You've used me for what you wanted, and now you're going to fuck as many girls as is possible on any given night. If not for the fact that my views on sex and love do not go hand in hand, I'd hate your guts. Instead, I just feel used, which is probably worse.

So then, the person I'm subtlely becoming, is a person who goes on living, who goes on having fun with friends, who continues to love and care for family and friends and is essentially the same as before. The difference is that I no longer see the point in closely attatching myself to one single person (also called "falling in love"). My mentality now is that I'm going to simply use men the same way I've been used, toss them away when I'm done, and just live like that for the rest of my life.

I'm also ninteen, so that mentality could also very easily change soon and when I least expect it. It's just how I feel right now.

In other news, I bought myself Final Fantasy XII. As soon as I'm back home, with my PS2, I'll play it and tell you guys what I think. Word is, though, that it's absolutely amazing. It better be, since I don't want a FFX repeat here (I can't stand that game).

On redemption

2006-10-31T20:39:00.000-04:00

It's Halloween guys, have a good one. Get tons of candy and get laid too. As for me, I'll be trick-or-treating in just a bit. I figure that, even though I'm going home, I may as well do it, so I can have another fond memory to bring with me.

I realize, though, that I seem to have a faithful audience of readers, but that I myself have been quite lax in reading up on my own favorite blogs. It's seriously on my to-do list though, so sooner or later I'm going to be going through all the blogs I read and do some good 'ol catch-up (not to be confused with ketchup, though embedded in the same processed-tomato goodness). I can't help but feel guilty though. Here I've found my niche of readers, but I don't return the favor as often as I should. Granted, it is a goal of mine to score an interview with El Nuevo Día on its Sunday paper if they ever do a huge feature on Puerto Rican bloggers. I'd have so much fun answering questions. But for me, it's just an issue of common courtesy and politeness. I feel that way about most everything.

But I seem to have a habit of doing that in other situations as well. I'm going home soon, and I'm going to finish what I start. There are a lot of people and things I miss from back home, and I can't wait to see them all again. But I do know that things won't be the same as they were before, since I just up and left with no warning whatsoever. People were happy to see me back in San Juan again in August, and I just left them all hanging. I'm sure most want nothing to do with me right now. And I deserve that kind of treatment. I should've been up front about what I wanted to do and was going to do. I should've told everyone, parents and friends alike. I shouldn't have done what I usually do, making a decision without letting anyone know the context behind it or what it is exactly.

Forgiveness isn't what I want though. I went for something I wanted, for something I believed in. That alone proves that I have drive and ambition, so that when I try again, I'll be better prepared. When I'm doing something I believe in, I do it without a single regret. I don't want forgiveness over what I thought was right.

What I want, though, is redemption, a chance to redeem myself. I want to show that I'm not going to run off again, and that I will finish what I've started. Things won't be the same, and I don't expect them to be. Not everyone will let me have redemption for myself and my actions. But if some of the people I care for the most are willing to let me redeem myself, and if I'm allowed to go back to Sagrado and finish there, then I can show that I've learned and that I'm stronger than I was before. I don't make mistakes twice, and what doesn't kill me makes me a better and wiser person. So I want to show everyone that that's what's happened to me. I really miss my friends at college. They were a good group of people. I just hope they'll welcome me back. Worse than never getting a goodbye is not getting a welcome back.

Boy, but I can't wait till I'm at the gates of Heaven and Peter starts listing off all the shit I've done in my life. That'll be interesting to hear.

On being used

2006-10-30T13:50:00.000-04:00

I feel quite hesitant in even writing this, but hell, it might make for an interesting read, even if it's quite personal.

I think when most people sit down and realize that, throughout the grand majority of their love/sex lives they've been used, they usually go insane. I can't speak for these people because I don't know most of them. I'm just taking a wild guess. As for myself, I came to that realization yesterday, while writing a letter to my now ex-significant other. I just began to think of every single person I've ever been romantically interested in/romantically involved in/sexually involved in, and I thought, "goddamn, have I been used a lot". I've been used as an emotional crutch. I've been used as a diversion. And I've been used for sex now. Among other things. Cynical points +200 now. I must've broken the scale of cyniscism by now.

It's not so much the fact that I've been used a lot that bothers me. What bothers me is that, in romantic endeavors, I've been used far too many times than I probably should've been, and I didn't realize it until it was all over. And, once I realized it, I always feel like a cheap, stupid whore. Let's break it down.

1. Being used as an emotional crutch: This has happened several times, but in different ways. Essentially though, the guy would probably see how nice and sweet and cute I am, take advantage of the fact that I was quite open to relieve the pain of whatever past love they might've had, but they never completely commit. At some point, they get better, and they decide to date some other girl, perhaps girlier and more attractive than myself. This, of course, leaves me hanging and quite bitter.

2. Being used as a simple diversion: Meet. Hook up. Leave. That sums it up.

3. Being used for sex: "I'm still a virgin and I don't want to hook up with girls yet. They'll see how inexperienced I am. Hmm, wait, I have a girlfriend. I think we'll just do the deed, and several weeks later, I'll say that the 'spark' is gone and break up with her. Then, I can hook up with as many girls as I want to!"

I think that more or less is the beginning and end of what I can possibly summarize. In the end though, as I think about it, there really is no such thing as love. It's just us humans constantly using one another for a means to an end. It might be to fill an emotional void, or it might be to get off because we just crave sex that badly. Or maybe we just remind one another of someone we once thought we loved. Or maybe we want bragging rights. Whatever the case is, we don't love, we just think we do. We want to label our emotions somehow, and love seems to be the most appropriate for [insert reason]. We want to have an excuse for our subconscious thoughts and behavior.

But, my own personal solution to that is simple: I don't plan on falling "in love" anytime soon. Instead, I'm going to play the game of karma, and start using men in return for my own romantic and sexual endeavours. I no longer want to be the toy. I'm not going to be anyone's toy. Rather, guys will be my toys.

Hmm. This was a rather cynical entry. Wait, that basically describes this entire blog.

On the means to the end

2006-10-27T18:50:00.000-04:00

Well, my faithful readers. If you are, indeed, looking at this, then thank you very much for sticking with me throughout my crazy thoughts and rants, since...May, right? How time flies, don't you think? Or maybe it only goes faster when you keep yourself occupied. The past three months have been faster than January to August, and it's only because I've been out of the house, rather than cooped up, doing similar things day to day.

Anyway, if you are indeed a faithful reader and aren't, say, reading this for the first time, or worse, a spambot intent on sabotaging my precious blog with inane advertisements, then you'll know that I've been living in Chicago for the past three months. It's been a crazy ride. I've done things I've never done before (like getting high and not making it back to the apartment till the next day), and I've made it one hell of a ride. In fact, I've become completely enamored with Chicago. I never thought I'd like another city as much (or even more) than NYC or San Juan, but I was wrong. Chicago is definitely the place to be. You'll believe me the day you take the Red line downtown during rush hour and see all the kinds of people around. I also highly recommend walking around the Loop, Millenium Park, and the Belmont and Clark areas of the city. Especially Belmont.

But, I've done a lot of hard thinking for about a month or so (could be less or more, I don't know, my mind has a lot of black moments...and no, it's not the alcohol). And I've decided that my adventure in Chicago is, for the moment, coming to a close. As much as I love living her, and as much as I'd love to continue living here, I think it might be best to just go back home. I don't mention it much, or show it much (asides in my LiveJournal or to very close friends), but it has been quite hard, despite all the fun I'm having. I realize that this is part of the whole thing, and part of the price tag on freedom and fun, but I think I still need more time to mature and grow and learn. So, I've decided to go home, finish college there, and then come back in a few years.

I've talked this over with my dad, and we've decided that this'll be a surprise for my mother's birthday, which is in November. I just hope she doesn't die of a heart attack when she sees me. This also gives me time to get college in order. I plan on either continuing in Sagrado, or transferring to UPR, either in Río Piedras or Mayaguez. I've figured that at least trying to finish college and getting a degree might help me to some degree in the future, even if it's a Humanities/Liberal Arts major, which guarantees that I'll be living in a box someday anyway. Besides, it'll be another adventure in life.

I don't expect things to be the same when I get back. I don't expect all of my friends and family to forgive me for what I've done, and I won't be asking for forgiveness or sympath. Those are things I don't ever ask for in life. But I also don't apologize for myself and the decisions I make. I learn, I grow, and that's that, even if I get more cynical in the process. My decisions and my mistakes are mine and mine alone, and I don't need to apologize or make excuses to anyone. People have their own decisions to make, anyway. So any amends I need to make from here on out for my selfishness, I'll do it, gladly. I set out to do something I wanted to do for once, and I set out to prove something. I did what I thought was right, and I still think I'm doing what's right.

At any rate, this'll only mean that my autobiography'll be quite interesting once I'm famous.

On an additional note, I went to see The Dresden Dolls live over at the Vic downtown. They were fabulous. They put on an awesome, unforgettable show, and they proved to me why they are awesome in my book. It's not just their music that's great, it's the fact that they can put on a good show to go with the music.

I also decided to listen to My Chemical Romance's new album, The Black Parade. I don't feel like giving a track-by-track review, so here's a short 'n sweet summary. Verdict: it sucks. It's a very generic and lame attempt at doing what Green Day did with American Idiot, creating a "rock opera" album. Every single song sounds like something from their second album Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge. Worse still, not only did they rip off Green Day, but they ripped off Queen on more than one occasion through the album. That really hurt. I did like track #3, though the name escapes me for the moment. But Gerard Way needs vocal lessons. He can't sing for shit. I was going to give it a 5 out of 10, for at least being techincally functional. Then I heard the bonus track, which completely ripped off The Dresden Doll's Coin-Operated Boy in both piano style and vocal style. I almost cried. So, all in all, it's a 3 out of 10. Don't download it. Don't buy it. Don't even listen to it unless you can help it. It's just cookie-cutter crap.

On coin-operated boys

2006-10-19T16:12:00.000-04:00

If the title of this note doesn't indicate my excitement in seeing The Dresden Dolls at The Vic this Friday, nothing does. Nothing. I really want to take a shitload of pics, but I still can't find my fucking camera, so I dunno what I'll do. I might bring a disposable and take a bunch, and then just scan 'em in, the ol' fashioned way.

Anyway, I need to start writing here more. I maintain about six other blogs asides this one, but I like this one as much as the others, and it's a shame I don't update more often. Then again, I guess I have blogs because I'm a writer at heart, as well as an actress, and I want to make my stamp in writing, not just with books or in magazines or newspapers, but also in the blogging world. I'd like to someday have a blog as popular as, say, Tucker Max's blog, both in the sense that lots of people read it and love it, and in the sense that I can make money off of it.

But enough of my rambling. Life in general, at the moment, is good, if complicated and with its down moments. But it's all karma, right? All downs have ups and vice-versa, and I just need to keep moving forward in life, regardless. As I've mentioned already, I'd decided at first to skip college for awhile, but, with some encouragement, I've decided to give transferring into DePaul a shot. I hear it's not really all that hard to get into, if pretty expensive. But I've been around DePaul a lot already, and I like it a lot, and I'd love to study there and see how things pan out.

I'm also now looking up apartments, since both dad and I agree that it's just not a good idea for me to keep mooching off Manda. I'm more than grateful to her for her hospitality and for letting me even stay here, but I don't want to keep bothering her or getting in her way. I think I might just be overthinking a lot of things in general, but I get the feeling that there will be no dorm space over at DePaul for the winter quarter, so an apartment seems like the logical choice, and one downtown. I'd need to either transfer to the Disney Store on Michigan Ave. or get a new job. Getting a new job just might be better though, 'cause then I can go find a job that pays better. Either way, I'm starting to move forward there, so we'll just see what happens. And, as Tim Gunn says (and as the Project Runway NERD I am), I just have to "make it work".

So, I'm juggling a lot of thoughts and things and processes at the moment, but I'm pretty determined on making things work out. I don't want to back down, and I don't want to give up. I want to prove that I can do things my way and that, in that thought process, I can also do things right. Not everything should be the way others want it if that's not what makes you happy. Being here in Chicago, the prospect of living, studying and working here, and jumpstarting an writing and acting career...that's what makes me happiest. It's probably very selfish of me, but what can you do?

In terms of personal life...well, lemme take a stab at writing about that, even though I suck at talking about myself. I've made friends here in Chicago, mainly the ones I know at DePaul. I'm definitely looking to gain more friends around here, as the months pass by, because I like being with people and I like having fun. I need to make a huge mental note to get back in contact with friends from back home, because I left them all hanging. It wasn't my intention to do that...but that's how it turned out. Love life is goin' steady. It's just the sort of relationship I want to be in. It has its serious and perhaps emotional moments (not to be confused with angst), but there's also a lot of fun in it. I feel very comfortable in this relationship, and I feel that we fit each other awesomely. I'd like to see this relationship last for quite awhile.

And in terms of Thanksgiving...I really don't know what I'm gonna do for that. I want to spend it with Rob's family, actually, but I've yet to ask. If I can't, then I might just call up my good friend Yestebel, who now lives in Boston with her fiancée and her son Demian, and see if I can spend it with them.

Life's an adventure, and you shouldn't live it any less than that. Or that's my philosophy, at any rate.

On a 36 hour snapshot

2006-10-07T20:31:00.000-04:00

(I've posted this in just about all 5-8 blogs I own, so I figured, why not this one?)

Wow, it's been an, uh, interesting 36 hours to say the least.

So, I'd basically been up since 4am yesterday, and I left for downtown Chicago at around 7:30am, and got to the Loop an hour later. I was going to this transfer student info session at DePaul's Loop campus, so I wanted to be there early, but I was too early, so I just walked around and took the train to another stop, looking for Puerto Rican café that was supposed to be around the city. I couldn't find it in time, so I took the train back and got there in time for the info session. It was basically general info on the university and transfer requirements and stuff, and afterwards I met with a counselor. Basically, he told me that I need to transfer as an international student because the university I was studying at, Sagrado, is in Puerto Rico, which is a commonwealth, which is apparently international. A couple of the friends I've made at DePaul (which I'll get into more in a sec) said that it might actually be easier to get in and get a dorm since I'm transferring as international. Also, in the event I can't get a dorm, dad said that I could try getting an apartment instead, and that he'd help fund it. Hopefully, though, this'll all work out. I'm looking forward to not only being back at college, but being somewhere I want to be, which is here in Chicago.

Anyway, after that, I headed towards the Belmont area of Chicago and [drumroll] got my ticket to the Dresden Doll show! I'm so fucking happy and excited about that still, and I can't wait till the 20th! Then after that, I got Sam up, found something to drink and curled up somewhere to sleep for a bit, till Sam called back after getting himself together. And then the rest of the day. Okay, so no one got drunk cuz we couldn't get hooked up with anything, but...it was still fun even with it's boring moments. Basically, we tried jamming out with Justin, with whom I've become good friends with, but the strings on his electric were out of tune, and two snapped. But I got to play more acoustic, so I'm not so rusty playing anymore. Then, we spent time making out, which was very nice. I can give biting my thumbs a rest. Then, we spent time playing video games, like Guitar Hero and random SNES games. Then we got food cuz I was hungry and could use the nourishment and Monopoly playing pieces. Then I think we lied down for awhile. Then we found Justin and tried to find something to do. Along the way I made a few more friends, namely with Eric, Owen, Ian and a girl named Noel (and her roommate, I think her name's Ali). There were more people, but I don't remember all the names. Then Sam and me went to Belmont, then came back, and decided to tie a shoelace around Justin's guitar for a strap and played music.

Then...we still couldn't find good alcohol hookups, so we decided to go out and smoke up. So yes, I tried weed for the first time. No, not enough to get high, but I was feeling pretty happy, and the happy feeling stayed even as the pot wore off. Justin, on the other hand, got totally blazed, so when we got back to the dorms, Sam and me just watched him since he was pretty fucking hilarious. Then we met up with these other people, did random stuff for awhile, and then decided to McDonalds again (this was like at 1am). After that, we headed back and played some video games, then just chilled in Justin's room, since he let me and Sam (and Eric too, cuz Eric was in sexhile from his room). Ian came by after his date, and Sam bought me a couple of beers, along with two for him. I hate beer, but I wanted some fucking alcohol, so I drank one can, had half of the other can and let Joe (another dude I met) have the rest. Then Eric comes back, blazed as all hell, and I fell asleep for bit but woke up when they (Sam, Justin and Eric) started rambling about music. Then Sam started on the dirt farmer jokes, and I went ballistic on him for over an hour. I wasn't really all that pissed though...actually, I just wanted him so bad, and I know that he knows that, it was so obvious in my eyes. Even Justin noticed, and he asked if he and Eric should just sexhile themselves for half an hour, but I decided not to agree since a. I was a guest in the dorm and b. it wasn't even Sam's room. But we also made fun of Sam and his small penis, Justin and his Jew family, and Eric's Texan heritage. Then we all dropped off to sleep after 4am.

Then this morning, I woke up to go to the bathroom, then to call in at work cuz I was on call-in and tell them I wasn't going in. But I have work tomorrow from 12 to 7pm non call-in, so it's fine. Hopefully I don't get chastised for missing two call-ins, but I really needed the sleep more than any potential cash from work. At around 2pm, we all got up and chilled for a bit, then cleaned up and got food. There was a buffet at DePaul's student center, and Rob treated me, so I got food, and we talked for awhile while eating. And then I decided it'd be best to head back here at around 3:30pm, so I did and Sam walked me to the train station and we said our see-you-laters.

Now that I'm back home though, I feel pretty damn happy like no one's business. I made friends, I was social, I had fun even without alcohol, I hung out with Sam (which is about a million happy points there), I'm a step closer to being back in college, and it's all just good. I'm happy, I feel good, it's awesome.

Phew, done with this entry.

On talking to God

2006-09-28T01:09:00.000-04:00

I thought this was kinda cool, so I'm gonna give it a shot before going to bed. This is me, talking to God, aka praying.

Hey God. Been a few days since we've talked, right? Sorry 'bout that. Sometimes, I do wonder if maybe you get tired of listening to the religion-less, existentialist black sheep that is me. I always get the feeling I don't quite deserve your attention, for all the things I've done in life, but here I am anyway, still ready to talk to you.

Anyway, things've been good. Money's tight, as it's been since I got here to Chicago. I've just been scraping by a living, with just enough food and water and insulin and clothes to make it through so far. Still, it'll make for interesting interviews once I reach my goals. Speaking of, I've yet to truly start on the pursuit of my goals. It frustrates me, but at the same time, I know that I also have to bide my time. I know I'm going to make it, but I guess it's these steps leading up to that moment that frustrate the most. I guess I just need to feel things out and take them as they come.

I got hired, you know that. Work's frustrating, because I can't seem to get things right, and it's kind of a reminder of being at home. But, I'm also trying my best to listen and to learn, even if this doesn't seem to be enough either. This is just something I probably have to go through to learn to like myself more. I've got plenty of self-confidence, but I'm still coming up short in the self-esteem department, as I have for a very long time. I just need to learn that not everyone hates me, and to get over my fear of being alone forever. More than that, I guess I'm scared of losing Sam. Even if he doesn't quite love me yet, I love him very much, and I want to keep him by my side as we both work towards our dreams of fame and fortune. I have the feeling that regardless of what happens, I'm going to continue loving him for a very long time. Love's a very complicated emotion, don't you think?

Speaking of, I suppose my relationship with my parents is starting to get on more even ground. A reason I wanted to move out, among many others, was to just kind of get away and stretch my wings. I wanted to estrange myself from them, and I guess I just want room to truly be myself. That doesn't seem to be in the cards though, since I talk to them over the phone now. Talking to Dad always leaves me as an emotional wreck. It might be because he's usually talking to me in a condescending tone, since he doesn't believe that I'm going to reach my goals, and since he seems to think I'm being brutally woken up to the harshness of "the real world". This is confirmed by how he always tells me I can come home at any time. I'm grateful that he leaves the door open for me, but I wish he'd realize that I left for my own reasons. Even if things're hard, I don't mind because this is what I want. Talking to Mom...well, that usually leaves me worse. I don't know what to say to her. Just the other day I was talking to her, and after I hung up, I cried my eyes out watching the beginning of Disney's Tarzan, watching Tarzan as a baby with his serrogate mother. Despite the emotional hell she tended to put me through, I miss my mother.

I just wish I could've been what others wanted me to be. I wish I knew where I'd gone wrong in life to turn out the way I did. If I'd just been what I was supposed to be, maybe there'd be less problems, and maybe my parents would be proud of me, and maybe I wouldn't have been the black sheep. But I know this doesn't matter. Sam told me himself. Just because I don't fit the mold doesn't mean that I went wrong anywhere in life. It just means that I'm meant to do something different, and who knows, that something different might be something great, something that'll shake the world and change it. I want to change the world somehow. Not in an earth-cracking way, but subtlely, in a way that people quietly remember who I was and what I did. More importantly, I want to make my parents proud, and I want them to see that my decision was the right one in the end.

But that's enough of me rambling. Watch over those I love and care for. And thanks for placing a guardian angel to watch over me. I would've never found my way after losing sight of it if she weren't around. And I'm glad you're watching over me, even though I don't really deserve it.

Love, Di.

On a general list of things to remember/learn

2006-09-18T18:03:00.000-04:00

Some rules and things to remember.

#5: Yes, it does slip out. And yes, it's fucking hilarious, so the best way to get over it is to just laugh your asses off and then give one another blowjobs.

#36: The best way to know you're comfortable with the person whom you're currently fucking is if you're having a perfectly normal conversation during the fucking. "How was your week?" "Kinda crazy, yours?" "Pretty okay."

#50: No matter what they say, guys like the dominating latina as much as they like the submissive latina.

#120: If the girl's cooch is drying up more than it should, it means her period's imminent. Really imminent. As in, next day imminent. (Yes, my period came this morning. -Ed.)
a. You can always expect your period to come on time when it shouldn't, and to come late when it shouldn't. In other words, that time of the month's a cunt.
b. On the bright side, if you get it at the beginning of the week, by the weekend, you can have unprotected sex. (And that's the only reason why I'm not really pissed. Those fuckers at Disney better give me next Sunday off (or start me after 2 or 3pm). -Ed.)

#223: Your roommate won't mind catching you guys in the act so much as when the guy you're fucking starts making fun of the guy said roommate likes to fuck.

#224: When your roommate(s) does/do catch you, it's still funny anyway, so it's best to laugh this off too.

#457: When closing your door to ensure privacy, make sure that the cat you let out isn't the deaf, psycho one who lives under the bed. Put on your glasses if you have to. If you, indeed, accidentally let it out, if it scratches to go back in, no matter what sort of sexual position you may be in, let the fucker in.

On walking that fine grey line

2006-09-14T13:34:00.000-04:00

Even though it's been a year and a couple of months since I became a bona-fide legal adult, I don't think the weight of what that means ever really registered. I knew that I was no longer a kid, and that slowly, but surely, I'd be finding my way into the world, for better or worse. It didn't even hit me last month as I boarded the plane from San Juan to Chicago. It's not that I was ignoring the fact that I have responsibilites now, or that, in the pursuit of my goals and dreams, there would be a lot of times in which I'd be scraping by a living. I knew all this, and it did register. I just didn't see how it was a very big deal. To me, it was simply the way things had to progress. Nothing more, nothing less.

So then I wonder why the fine grey line between adolescence and adulthood became more apparent after I lost my virginity very recently. Ho shit, I bet you all thought I was a non-virgin already. Never assume anything, my dear readers. Anyway, I finally decided that the time was right, and that I'd finally found someone suiteable. For the record, I wasn't terribely picky. My criteria: a. it should at least be someone I know; b. it'd be even better if I was friends or dating the person; and c. no one-night-stands as my real first time. Other than this, though, I simply figured that at some point, I'd lose my virginity, and that would be that. And yet, losing it turned out to be my defining mark. Not turning 18, not getting into college (and hence, getting constantly drunk), not smoking or taking on bigger responsibilities or taking the plunge to move out on my own, none of that.

I actually consider this a good thing. Since I waited to lose my virginity, rather than taking the chances that I'd gotten in high school, I lost it when I was more mentally mature and more able to realize and comprehend its consequences. It didn't end up becoming someting random, or a means to an end. I'll have a fond memory of the experience, and if I ever become suicidal enough to have kids, I can tell them about this, and they can see too that sex isn't everything when you're 14-18 years old. In the end, sex shouldn't be seen as something wholly sacred or something to be saved for your "one true love". That's how love should be seen. It's funny how people always fantasize about what their first time might be like, and yet they constantly throw around the word love without realizing that this word carries more weight than sex does. Sex comes and goes, but love doesn't, not the real kind.

It also goes without saying that I'm not the "wait till marraige" type. Anyone with a brain knows how antiquated that is anyway. Plus, no one really values marraige anymore. You date someone for awhile, you marry 'em, and then, the moment things aren't working, you divorce. So why bother saving it for then? Though it is my own personal hope that if I ever get married, we stay married. I don't particularly like the idea of dying alone and single. But well, at least I won't die a virgin.

On pot heads and Disney

2006-09-04T15:56:00.000-04:00

I've been meaning to update this for a bit, but I hadn't quite been able to organize my thoughts to write a comprehensible entry. Also, I haven't looked through other blogs lately, and I apologize for that. I'll try making amends...well, when I feel like it.

So, how is life in Chicagoland thus far? Definitely getting easier, that's for sure. My never-ending search for employment has finally ended (I know, that was redundant). After applying to about ten different places, I've finally been hired...at The Disney Store. If you're surprised, it's nowhere near how I feel. I should just be grateful I don't have any tattoos yet. But, I guess I just kicked ass at the interview and made an excellent impression. I'm a part-timer there now, but the pay is $7 the hour, which is so awesome. First paycheck goes towards clothes. It's September already, so I'll need warmer shirts. Also, about half of every one of my paychecks is getting saved so that, by Christmas, I can get myself the present of having my own downtown Chicago cheap-ass loft. I hope I can find something that's like $400 a month or something. I'm not too particular on commodities, so long as there's maybe electricity and a shower and toilet.

One down on my list. What next? Well, soon as I've got the cash rolling in, my next step is scouring for auditions in Chicago. I really don't know where to start though, which is kind of a problem. I know that when I do figure out where to start, I'll have no problem moving forward from there. The same goes when I start finding out how to get my first novel published. I'm not all that worried, but I'm feeling more or less as preoccupied as I did while looking for a job. This just might mean that things'll all work out in the end though, as they seem to have been doing since I got here.

And, with my arrogant, egotistical jackass, yet extremely loveable, significant other, today is officially nine months. I'm amazed and extremely happy. This has been one of the best relationships I've been in thus far in my life, and I'm glad that we stopped hating each other and started being friends. We've had our ups and downs for sure. I still feel really bad about yesterday, that I must've looked like a socially inept retard around his friends and that one of my kicks mighta made him bleed (I get panicky about that because of a incident in elementary school). But the ups are completely awesome. I tell you, there's nothing like watching that huge fountain over in Millenium park with your significant other's arm around your waist, giving you a sweetly soft kiss. I know, I sound like a romantic sap. I'll be throwing up in disgust in just a moment. But it really is nice. It's rekindling my faith in that love can be found.

Speaking of Millenium Park, I and my significant other were at the Chicago Jazz Fest there yesterday. I'm not that much of a jazz fan, but it really was some great music. The piano playing, in particular, was really really great. It was also absolutely hilarious when we passed by these two people promoting pot. "There's nothing wrong with smoking pot and it shouldn't be illegal!" So said the woman completely dressed in a suit of fake pot. I know that if my significant other had more money on him, he'd've probably bought the suit from her. Speaking of pot, despite the fact that I still really hate the idea of pot and drugs and the reasons people use them, I am considering maybe getting high on pot. My main reason, though, is the legal drinking age here. I really miss drinking more alcohol, and it's annoying because people between ages 18 to 21 drink it anyway, so I don't see the problem. So pot might end up being my replacement for alcohol if I feel that I can stand overstepping my own personal opinions about it.

Anyway, I wish I had pictures to put up, but I keep forgetting my camera at the most opportune moments. I will put some up soon though, so never fear my readers. And with that, I should get back to cooking. My roommate and I have actual food now, amazing.

On scraping a living

2006-08-22T23:38:00.000-04:00

It's amazing at how humbled you can become when your roommate's check isn't coming in on time...the same check needed to buy food. Between last week and now, we've been able to survive solely on fried rice and home-baked cookies, plus water. We've run out of main ingredients to make good rice though, we ate all the cookies...and I'm broke, since I bought our last meal of ten soft tacos today. The check should be here tomorrow, but I'm actually reminded of college, in which I basically lived the same way.

On the plus side, I've lost ten pounds, since the beginning of the month. Can I just say wow? Wow. I completely didn't expect that, but it makes some sense kinda, considering my food intake since the beginning of August. But it gives me a confidence boost, since I'm basically in Chicago for acting and rockstar-dom, and I kinda have to look like hot. I think I already do, but yeah, y'never know.

Job-wise, I had an interview today, I have one tomorrow, and I have to call back two places between Thursday and Friday. This makes me quite optimistic, considering that I need a job now, so I can have an income flow, plus so I can pay for my own apartment. My current roommate and I are in her mom's apartment, since she's gone till next year, but we both want to move more downtown to Chicago, or just a nice place in general. Also, considering the fact that most of my starting roles might not be paid for, it's a good idea to keep a job kicking around and all that.

But you know, despite all this, I'm having a lot of fun. I honestly feel really free now. I feel like I will make it and reach my goals, y'know?

Anyway, back to eating tacos. Pray the check gets in tomorrow.

On cats and Goodwill

2006-08-18T20:52:00.000-04:00

Alright folks, it sure has been awhile. This is mostly my fault. Lack of inspiration, and also I had a lot on my mind. 'Course, that's why I have this and my LJ, but that's beside the point.

So, it is official my readers. I am now a Chicagoan. That's right, I'm reporting live from Chicago. I gotta tell you all, it's been one heck of an experience thus far. In San Juan, it'd been awhile since I'd been in, since I don't usually fly that much, but it was kinda fun. Got my ticket, spent hours randomly walking around, till I boarded and the plane took off. I went with nothing but a dufflebag of clothes and my (in)famous Jack Skellington bag, with cigarettes, a book and some money. I felt like a little kid on Christmas morning as the plane landed. It was 9pm central, and I could see the whole city lit up, and all the cars on the highway. It was amazing. All I could think was "wow, I'm in Chicago, I'm in the US, finally".

The past few days, then, have been about looking for a job. I've applied to about five or seven places already, so I hope some place hires me. My now-roommate's been great. I'm still so very grateful for providing a roof over my head. I even have a bed. I won't mooch off long though, because I don't like that. I just need to get myself on my feet first, even if it takes awhile and doesn't happen immediately. At any rate, what's important, after I get a job and get, y'know, money, is starting on my way to being that famous actress and writer I want to be. I'll be honest though, I almost didn't go through with it. I almost stayed in Puerto Rico. I didn't realize it till I got some reassurance, but I guess I was scared I'd have to do this completely by myself. It turns out, though, that I do have people who're voluntarily grabbing my wrist to lead me on my new-found path.

This could be the crappiest decision in my life. But it could also be the best decision ever. And that's why I took the plunge, because I won't know till I find out. I feel immensely bad, for leaving behind my family and friends, mainly because I left without telling anyone. I know, bad choice on my part. But I just didn't feel the need to tell anyone, really. Once my mind was set, I realized that this was something I wanted to do, that this was something I had to do. No, it's not "destiny", that's just stupid. It's just the path I wanted to set myself on. I felt that if I'd stayed back home any longer, I might've slowly let my dreams and hopes die on the inside.

Now though, my task is to prove people wrong, and show that I have the drive and strength to succeed and to make my goals happen. I know I do, even if I need to ask for help. It's just proving it to others that's the hard part. And so, I suppose this blog will now be for the purpose of telling the story of my next adventure in life. Things've just started, and I've gotta ride this rollarcoaster out.

I must say though, I've had so much fun laughing at blatant stereotypes whenever me and my roommate go out. It's just insane. I guess I'm too used to the stereotypes of home. Then again, I'm also living with three cats, one of whom's deaf and meows at me at night, and I spent some of today looking through Goodwill. Some stuff was nice, but when I get money, I'd rather buy stuff at Kohl's or Marshalls or something. I'm poor...but not that poor.

A man can always tell.

Quote

2006-07-30T10:31:00.000-04:00

"...en todo caso, había un solo túnel, oscuro y solitario: el mío."

Juan Pablo Castel, El túnel, Ernesto Sábato

Desde que lo leí en escuela superior, ha sido, para mi, uno de los mejores libros escritos en español. Y tiene...158 páginas. Lo leí por segunda vez, terminándolo anoche, y todavía hay laberintos que hace que la novela tenga tantos secretos y tantas ambiguedades. Creo que la ambiguedad que siempre me ha hecho pensar más es la edad del personaje María Iribarne. Nunca puedo decir si ella es una mujer de veinti-algo, o si en realidad es una mujer de cincuentai-algo. Sobre todo, lo más interesante de la novela es que, en un sólo capítulo (capítulo 36), se puede saber qué fue lo que realmente pasaba (since the narrator is obviously insane).

Creo que, cuando lo puedo conseguir, voy a leer El aleph de Jorge Luis Borges de nuevo. No lo entendí la primera (y única) vez que lo leí, pero quiero ver si ahora lo puedo entender.

(Shit yeah, a post in Spanish, what're the odds folks?)

A day in my life

2006-07-28T22:46:00.000-04:00

Well, let's take a look at one day in my life. Today actually, because it is thus far interesting.

So, because I had to be up early, I set my cellphone alarm for 6am, and it sounded at said time. I'm a ringtone whore, so my alarm ringtone is Blitzkrieg Bop by The Ramones, because it's the only one that wakes me up. To digress for a sec here, I think I've trained my brain to answer the phone even if I'm asleep, because I got a call from my significant other at around 12:30am, and I don't remember the phone ringing, I don't remember grabbing it or checking the number or flipping it open, all I remember was saying "hello?" Wow, I'm awesome. Anyhow, back to today. So I was up, and I turn off my A/C, and decide that I should eat. Family was mostly asleep except for my older brother, so I liked that. By 7:30am, I was dressed and out of the house.

On today's menu: go to San Juan to take care of stuff at Sagrado. Well, that was what I was supposed to do. Somewhere along the line, a change of plans occured, so, on my way towards Ponce, not even out of San Germán, I turned around on the highway. I also needed gas. First weird thing of the day: I saw the following sign on the way out of highway towards the gas station.

And...the only way to get on the road was to turn right. I saw it, thought for a moment, then said out loud, "wait, if I can't turn right, how the fuck do I get to the gas station. I should've taken a picture on my digital camera. So, this aside, I went and got my gas, and turned back towards San Germán. Since I no longer had to go to San Juan, I wondered what to do now. I realized that it's been ages since I've been past Mayaguez and Aguadilla, so I figure hey, I'll go that way. Away I went. I'd forgotten, though, how much I hate driving on the highway in the morning. It's summer. It's hot. There are always traffic jams. So it was hot. Really fucking HOT. But well, passed by Mayaguez Mall, pass through Mayaguez, past the main part of the city, past Colegio, and back on the highway towards Aguadilla. Thankfully, there's not much to it, just drive straight.

I get to Aguadilla now, and I realize that I need food. So I look for it, and drive into town. The one thing I like about that town is the beach. I love the beach, so driving by and feeling the breeze was great. Sadly, no good places were open save for a Burger King...and I didn't want Burger King under any circumstances. At some point, then, I turn around and drive towards this park there, past the ice skating rink. Irony: an ice skating rink in front of a beach. Wow. Anyway, I drive by the children's park, and I see there's a restaurant there. I check my wallet: $30. I have two ATM cards, but neither are mine, and I hate having to waste all my money on just food. I realized that there was a mall here, so I decide I'll be a good young adult and do the proper thing, get fast food. The mall in Aguadilla isn't so bad, but not what I'm used to. Actually, Aguadilla reminded me of a combination of Río Piedras and Caguas. Well, the important thing was that I got food, so after that I was on my way out. Second weird thing: I saw the exact same sign up there as I turned to go out to the highway. Which way am I supposed to fucking turn then, you stupid sign?!

I also remembered that they opened a new US Coast Guard PX, so I decide to check it out quick. It was pretty okay, spacey and with air conditioning. They also had a fine selection of alcohol and cigarettes, which is what you can always expect from a store owned by the US military. I was done with that, so I went on my way. By now, it was around 1pm or so, and I realized that I should start going home. I call my best friend to tell her I would be stopping by later, and then I called my other best friend. Because the Fiestas Patronales here start today, and I want to go, but not on my own. So she said she'd call me. And JOY, more traffic jams! In the stifling heat! But it wasn't as bad as the one in Mayaguez, both in the streets of the city and out on the highway. MAYAGUEZ HIGHWAY HAS TOO MANY STOPLIGHTS. Anyway, after about an hour in all that, I realized that I needed to stop by Mayaguez Mall. How nice that I should run into an ex-boyfriend of sorts in Borders. He's annoying now, especially because it's so obvious he has a crush on my best friend, who's taken. But I made it short because I needed to pick up stuff, and I did. In and out.

Then I drove back to San Germán por la carretera vieja. By now it's about 3pm, so I stop by Burger King and I get food from the dollar menu for my family. Food is bought, I drive home because my dad needed to go to my grandma's house. So I had about half an hour break. I spent it eating and [drumroll] ordering my plane ticket online. After I printed everything, dad came home, and I was out again. First stop was Pueblo, because they had a Western Union, and that's how I payed for my plane ticket. On my way out, it took about ten minutes to actually move in the traffic, because right in the middle of the road, there was a car crash. And today of all days, the first day of our Fiestas Patronales. Anyway, I finally made it to my best friend's family's store. It's an ice cream store, right in front of where the Fiestas are held. I spent an hour and a half helping her tend the store, having her little cousins from China talk to me in cantonese, which I obviously don't know, and basically watch the insanity.

Finally, at 6pm, I decide to head home, so I can take another break, shower, and wait to see if I really was going out. The answer is no. But hey, the Fiestas are here for, what, ten days? So, no loss. That, and I'm tired anyway. Not that I wouldn't have had any fun whilst tired, just that I've also had a severe lack of sleep for a few days.

Anyway, that concludes a day in my life. Insightful? Crazy? I think you are awesome? I hope so, even though I know that I am pretty awesome.

On being a writer

2006-07-27T17:51:00.000-04:00

I'm sorry to say, but my usual, witty muse has decided to take a break. I found out this morning when I saw that it left a sign saying, "I'm SICK of being used as your entertainment! Be back in a few days." So, I don't have anything interesting to write about. Or, actually, I do, but I can't seem to write coherent sentences about it.

So instead, I leave you with the link to my new novel, Ripple. In case you happen to notice as you read, yes, it's main influence is the novel 1984 by George Orwell. Despite this influence, I don't want you guys to think that it's the only influence, nor that I'm taking the novel in the same direction. My goal is to make it far more psychological towards the end, Neon Genesis Evangelion-style almost. Except that I hope you can actually understand it, unlike Neon Genesis Evangelion.

Wow. I had no idea Batman OR Robin were capable of dominating ANY woman.

On my soul

2006-07-24T21:30:00.000-04:00

This was just too accurate not to post.

What Your Soul Really Looks Like

You are a wanderer. You constantly long for a new adventure, challenge, or eve a completely different life.

You are a very grounded, responsible, and realistic person. People may not want to hear the truth from you, but they're going to get it.

You see yourself with pretty objective eyes. How you view yourself is almost exactly how other people view you.

Your near future is likely to be filled with great successes and accomplishments. You just need to figure out how to get there.

For you, love is all about caring and comfort. You couldn't fall in love with someone you didn't trust.

Inside the Room of Your Soul

Consider this a summary of who I am.

On kinda growing up

2006-07-22T10:19:00.000-04:00

Wow, I was seriously going to write this yesterday and I forgot. And the day before, and I forgot. I'm not sure why I remembered and am writing it now. I think it was because I got a message in my Gmail account about my traffic reports here, and I was like "oh yeah!" I do this for a lot of things in real life because, in truth, I am an absent-minded, aloof scatterbrain. Anyway, at least I finally remembered.

So, there is this internet forum I've been visiting for over two and a half years now, among four or five others I visit. What can I say, I'm in a lot of places around the internet. Anyway, I've also been an administrator there for a year, and a moderator and head moderator for over a year and a half. When I first joined, I was but a sixteen year old girl, younger and less mature than I am now. And in high school too. I was in 11th grade, which meant I was being piled to death with work. But, despite a crappy computer at home and very little time to actually be on the Internet (plus crappy dialup), I joined, thinking I'd forget all about it in a few days. Wow, was I ever wrong. See, I liked this forum a lot because it was smallish at the time, yet still had a lot of interesting activity from its members. After awhile, I found my niches and stuck to them, whilst meeting some cool people. At the time, it was fun for me, a good way to pass time.

Over the past two and a half years at that forum, I managed to make a good deal of internet friends, garner the respect of nearly everyone by being the little train that could (since I had a habit of always getting back up after failing miserably), and I felt that it was really worth my time (well, what time I had, considering how little time I had to be in the internet at college last semester). And yet, as this month went on, as I'd spent so much time having fun and doing other things, and as I spent time continuing to plan to move to Chicago, I realized that I'd grown up. The forum was still kinda fun, an interesting hangout that I still frequented. But now, it's more out of habit and the fact that the people I like from there are still around themselves. I realized that I just lost interest. It's not really the same place anymore, and all the effort needed to help admin the place didn't have much compensation for me anymore. It was a fun ride, but it was finally over. Also, let's not forget that if I succeed in moving to Chicago, I think I'm going to be really busy with so many things, once I find good standing on my feet. So I decided, I'm done, I quit the staff, see y'all later.

And see, even if it was only an internet forum that will probably (hopefully, the guy who runs the place is a loser with no life) be gone in three years, it's still a place that I spent free time on, just like anything in real life. It's a sad feeling when you realize that you just don't care anymore, and that you've grown up and moved on. I don't think I'm more mature, because I'm not. That won't be for a long while I think. I've just reached a point that now, I want to move on and I want to do new things in life. Slowly, the internet will just become an occasional place of diversion, and basically my medium of downloading illegal music and anime, since I'm too cheap to buy it. Probably porn too, even though I find it too hilariously corny to even get all hot and bothered over it.

This also made me realize that my very reason for wanting to move out is because I've moved on from this place. This town and island has been my home for nine years, and while a lot of bad things happened, a lot of good things happened too. There are too many memories here for me to just sit and recount them all. It's time for me to set my sights on a new place, and to get going with my life. Maybe I should stay and finish college, but that's just my conscious telling me how disappointed my parents will be. I've always truly thought that, while college does increase your chances by tenfold of getting a good job, I'm pretty capable of making it through life without it just fine. I don't know why. Maybe it's blind faith, or maybe it's the truth. I would rather be out and doing other things anyway. Life shouldn't always be lived by the standard: go to college, get a degree, get married to the boyfriend you dated those years, get an office job, have a family of 2.5 kids with a house and a pet, retire at some point, and then die. I'm not interested in it. Well, I would like to get married, but only if I love the guy. Marraige doesn't seem to be about that anymore, but I want my marraige to be about that.

As I move through life, and I leave behind old places and memories in search of new ones, I just hope that I'm always happy with what I'm doing. Actually, I know I'll be happy if I'm doing what I want, and nothing more. Yeah, I'm kinda selfish like that. But hey, if I'm not happy, then I can't make anyone else happy.

I love the guys at Penny Arcade. They sure can do good webcomics.

On being a girl anachronism

2006-07-18T18:13:00.000-04:00

Alrighty now, time to stretch out my fingers and write out one good entry, which might not be that long, but will hopefully be, well, good.

Firstly, I'm going to go into movie reviewer mode, and I'll give you all my not-really-professional opinion on Pirates of the Carribean: Dead Man's Chest.

Seriously now, I can't understand why so many people think the movie sucks. In my completely humble and honest opinion, I thought the movie was just fine, great even. I was entertained from start to finish, just like in the first film. I don't think it's better than the first one though, but at the very least, it didn't suck like a lot of sequels tend to. I can understand why people might not have liked it as much as the first. First, the characters. Nothing was wrong with them, they were still as cool as the first, Jack Sparrow leading the pack (ex-commodore Norrington followed, he kicked some ass in this movie), but their novelty's worn off. We already know Jack's completely insane, so it's nothing new, though that doesn't mean he still isn't funny. I guess maybe people were expecting something entirely new from him.

Another problem is that these films are taking a Back To The Future approach. In other words, out of the trilogy, the second and third films are direct-direct sequels to one another. This means that the plot is spread out between two films, which then means that this second movie can't stand alone by itself. The third film's gonna determine whether this one is good or great. Finally, even if I found this movie to be great, it wasn't really necessary. The first film was just fine as a stand-alone. When it came out, it had virtually no promotion and it wasn't completely whored out. This film is just cashing in on the first film's surprising popularity. But hey, it's entertaining, so enjoy it for what it is. And don't let the pirate legend bastardizing get to you either, everything bastardized nowadays anyway.

Now I'm going to switch real quick and go all music-reviewer. My subject is Rise Against's newest album, The Sufferer and The Witness. Overall: a good listen, but it's not as good as their earlier stuff. But, as one of punk rock's mainstays that're actually good (Bad Religion takes the cake), the fact that they can still make good stuff is very impressive, especially when you consider the fact that nowadays punk rock seems to be leaning towards teeny-bopper, mainstream pop crap. I would've preferred it if this were one of those albums that you absolutely need to listen from start to finish (like The Flaming Lips's amazing Yoshimi Battles The Pink Robots), but c'est la vie I suppose.

So, I'm done reviewing stuff for no reason. I could review my latest pack of gum and cigarettes, but no one's interested in listening. Well, as I've said, my internet was cut last week, or should I say the house's internet, because I'm not the one paying for it. It was good timing for me though, because all that time afterwards I spent being...well, busy. I've been hustling together cash for my one-way ticket...and that's been going terriblely. I've been to the movies a couple of times, I've gone out to eat, and I've been just hanging out and having a bit of not-too-expensive fun. But, in terms of moving out, well, I think my luck's about to change in a bit. I'm going to keep my mouth shut as to why I think this, but keep your eyes peeled guys. I feel a change in the wind, and if it all goes well, then my sense of wind direction's actually pretty good. So, for those of you that pray, keep me in your prayers.

Well, I'm starting to wax philosophical right now, and that's always a bad sign. Oh, for the internet thing, my dad decided that cable internet would be better than DSL, so we switched. I don't see the difference, other than that we had to buy a wireless router and I had a hell of a time setting up our wireless network. Oh well.

for the record

2006-07-17T19:34:00.000-04:00

I'm still alive and no, I haven't abandoned this journal yet. I've been extremely busy, and my 'net's been cut since last week till today. I'll make a proper entry ASAP. Thank you for your patience, my lovely readers.

On awesome times

2006-07-11T18:35:00.000-04:00

I'm back. Well, I've been back since yesterday, but blogging be damned, I was too tired and too happy to bother writing anything worthwhile. But, here I am now. I had an awesome time just having fun and celebrating my birthday late. I can't seem to ever celebrate my birthday on the day it falls, but hey, at least I did celebrate. It looks like being 19 might be something great. Highlights of the weekend: that I managed to get chopstick holding and using right the first try, so that made me proud. The sushi tasted great. A lot of people think, "ew raw fish", but it tastes great, and the same thing goes for the dumplings. The chicken was good, but it wasn't really sweet or sour. I liked it as much as General Tao chicken. As for the sake...well, it tastes like cold medicine at first. But if you drink it a bit more and after some food, it rubs off. So began inhebriation.

1. I tried smoked salmon sushi, sweet and sour chicken, gyouza dumplings, and hot sake. My best friend, who happens to be Asian, told me that I got the hang of chopsticks really quick and naturally, so that made me happy. Chopsticks aren't all that hard to use, actually.

2. I found strawberry cigarettes in Plaza. FINALLY. I tried cherry and vanilla before, but I wanted strawberry. Man, you can taste the flavor on your teeth for HOURS. Too bad they're too fucking expensive for normal consumption, but it's just as well, I have other things my money needs to go to. Y'know, like plane tickets.

3. I went to Plaza, period. Yeah, it's like the one mall on the whole island that you can enjoy going to even if it's full and even if it takes awhile to find parking. I dunno, I always just enjoy walking around and checking out the sites and the people I might see. I was surprised though, 'cause I caught the eyes of quite a few cute guys. So began hookups.

4. I had more alcohol that weekend than I have since the year began, and I regret none of it. Granted, by Sunday night, I was pretty trashed and hung over and a mess, but I was one happy mess.

5. And I got a couple of random, casual dates. Really, nothing special, because casual hookups aren't really as nice as serious relationships. Sure, you can get off or whatever, but there's just no emotion involved, and if you ask me, having some emotion behind it all makes it much more satisfying. But hey, I won't complain. I had a date last year on my birthday, I'd be damned if I didn't have one this year.

There you have it. I did promise pictures, I realize, but...I left the SD card for my digital camera at home. Just my fuckin' luck. I even bought some batteries too. Well, better luck next time, right?

But I'm not sure. Maybe it's my good mood right now, or maybe it's because of the kickass time I had, but that gut feeling I've been having, the one that tells me that things are going to start changing for the better for me, and that things will start going my way now. That maybe I'll get enough for my plane ticket to Chicago, that I'll be able to start maintaining myself right away, that my love life will be awesome, and that my acting career is going to jumpstart just as soon as I figure out where to start and start working hard at it. Things will work out. That's my gut feeling.

Anyway, I hope my faithful readers are doing okay. I'll check around your blogs soon.

Ohoh, thought I wouldn't come up with something eh? Yeah, this is just nostalgia. I totally remember watching these cartoons or something like that when I was a kid.

On kickass times

2006-07-07T17:02:00.000-04:00

I'm officially out for the weekend. I'll be in San Juan tomorrow, and busy Sunday. I might post pictures Monday if I take any that I like, and a fresh entry with some entertaining thoughts.

In the meantime, I've been playing Xenogears. It's like playing an altered game version of the anime Neon Genesis Evangelion. So my brain kinda hurts at this point from the fact that it's extremely confusing and that, thus far, it seems like it's going nowhere story-wise.

Public service announcement:

On...a lotta things

2006-07-05T11:43:00.000-04:00

I was going to write this yesterday, but at some point, I completely forgot. So I'll try writing it now. So, since I missed, happy late BBQ day people. I hope you all went to the beach or the mall or lighted illegal fireworks or stuffed yourself with ~~Chinese takeout~~ BBQ. I had a thought of writing perhaps a politically inclined entry in relation to the 4th of July, because, believe it or not, I'm quite left-wing, not-really-pro-American. But hell, I couldn't come up with anything. So let's just forget that, shall we?

Anyway, more importantly, yesterday marked seven months of being kinda not single (long story short, my significant other and I are seriously dating, but we're also casually dating others for a lot of reasons I don't care to write out here). This means that this is the longest a relationship has ever lasted me, and I'm not sure what to think. Actually, the one thing I'd really love to know is what is it I'm doing right this time. I mean, all the other times, I thought I was doing things right, but for one reason or another, the relationships always fell apart. It didn't matter how much or how little time it took...they just did. I could also be cursing myself and have this relationship fall apart today (of all days), but I kinda doubt that.

I think one reason things might've worked out thus far is because we were best friends to start with. He was one of my best friends, and before that we hated each other to death. Funny how things turn out. But a problem that I've found is that most people might jump into a serious relationship with someone and barely know them from the start. That just screams kiss of death, because you have to learn about this person during the relationships, and any disputes and arguments that flare up leave behind indelible scars and marks, to remind you about it later on. At least, when you know the person already, you can avoid touching upon nerves that shouldn't be touched. If you barely know the person, then don't make it so serious to start with, take it slow. Unless something happens like an alien invasion, you have all the time in the world, so why rush?

But, I think a bigger reason this whole deal's worked till now is the fact that he is probably the first significant other I'm completely myself around. All the others before, I might've been myself to an extent, but mostly, I just pretended to be someone else, just to please their fantasies. I guess I was just lonely, and I didn't want things to go wrong, but time and again, things went wrong anyway. With this guy, though, I put aside that mask and charade, and I'm as stubborn and sadistic and twisted and just plain me as I want to be. And, strangely enough, none of it bothers him. I kind of wish I knew why.

So, cheers to seven months.

And, more importantly, cheers to me being 19 years old as of 4am of today. My general thought: damn, I'm still alive, what the hell? So I wonder how things'll turn out from here on out. It's not that I expected to be dead by 19, but I also never knew what to think if I did get to this age. I couldn't imagine it when I was 12, that's for sure. I wonder if I knew I'd be who I am, that I'd be this way way back when. I guess not. I'm both proud and disappointed in how I've turned out, but things like that can't be changed. Thus far, I've gotten a great birthday cake, loads of cash, a brand-new watch, and Xenogears for the PS1. Yes, something new to waste time on as soon as I'm done with my second Kingdom Hearts 2 file.

Sure looks like you guys are though...

On a certain inner dilemna

2006-07-03T20:39:00.000-04:00

This entry'll be a quickie. Right now, I'm deciding what to buy myself for my birthday.

Either a Nintendo DS Lite:

Or Guitar Hero:

Being a video game fan is expensive. In the end, I might actually just go buy some new threads and some CDs.

On the ideal hero

2006-07-02T17:14:00.000-04:00

I just got back from watching the movie Superman Returns. Now, I'll be the first to tell you. I've never been a fan of the original movies, I've never been a big DC Comics fan, and I certainly have never liked Superman all that much. I've seen the originals a couple times over, but they've never struck a chord with me. Nothing about the mythos that surround the Man of Steel have interested me.

So it came as a very, very, pleasant surprise when this new movie was not just good, not just great, but positively excellent. It's not enough that they kept to the original music and mythos, or that they picked an excellent cast, or that it had an excellent script, or that it had excellent directing. All these things certainly made this movie great, because otherwise...well, it would've sucked. It's how they take this one ideal, this one hero that many have grown to love and worship almost, and gave him his great return to our world. In the movie, there was talk of how the world didn't need Superman, and yet, at one point with Lois Lane, Superman says that he is still needed, because the world still has a long way to go.

That's what hit me most about this movie, the fact that Superman left, but returned because he still had a place in this world, because people still needed him. And that's when I finally learned why Superman has such a huge presence, ever since he got his own comics. People love Superman because they all wish that we could have a hero like him, someone to come save the day when things get tough, someone guide humanity with the dilemnas we still have, someone to always just be there in the nick of time. And yet, this hero, this guy who's not a bird, not a plane, still has his weaknesses like all of us, and is still capable of being hurt physically, but most of all his heart.

Don't most of us wish for someone who'll "always be around"? Especially those of us who've been left behind by someone we care about? I know that's something I want. When I think about Superman like that, I actually feel a little bad for making fun of him. ~~Then again, I can also write an entire entry about how the whole movie is one giant innuendo about homosexuality, because believe me I could see it too.~~ But I can't...the movie just resonated too much with my current thoughts on life and my own desires to branch out and find out who I am and who I should be, and my desire to have freedom and to be a dependable person.

Superman is our ideal hero. He is the hero we wish we had, but more than that, he is the hero we all wish we could be.

On a final note, Kevin Spacey as Lex Luthor was positively amazing. He creeped me out. Do you guys have any idea how hard it is to creep me out? And the guy goes and does it.

On Argentina, action and children

2006-06-30T17:27:00.000-04:00

Arg, por qué Argentina?! Por qué perdiste ante Alemania? En los penales, pa' colmo?! Bueno, yo iba a los dos equipos...pero quería que Argentina ganaran...y perdieron. Aunque viste, si Alemania hubiese perdido, hubiera sido tan pero tan humillante, porque la copa está en Alemania (los juegos mejor dicho), y estaban jugando con un público gigantesco de alemanes. Pero, no todo 'stá perdido. ITALIA! 3-0 contra Ukrania. Tengo que decir que el arquero de Italia es tremendo, ese tipo en verdad sabe lo que hace. Ahora juegan contra Alemania en los semifinales. Fuck yeah.

Ah, estoy escribiendo por lo menos parte de este entry en español, por que siento que, por escribir en inglés la mayor parte del tiempo, estoy dejando atrás a lectores que quizás solo saben español. Pero hasta aquí llega, ya el resto va a ser en inglés como de costumbre.

So that's done and over with. Now, I found this on YouTube, so I'm posting it.

It has my favorite fight scene in all of FFVII: Advent Children. Now, I'll admit, the movie's plot was nearly non-existant, but I'll be damned if the action scenes weren't good. Sadly, this is the English version, and the voices range from good to terrible. Better than nothing though.

Nothing I say will make this more funny and wrong than it already is. Nothing.

On Krypton and old classmates

2006-06-29T18:46:00.000-04:00

"Information is not knowledge."
-Albert Einstein

What I like most about this quote is the fact that it correlates to one of my favorite books: Technopoly by Neil Postman. I had to read this back in eleventh grade, alongside 1984 by George Orwell. It's not my favorite book because it's exciting or dramatic, because, in all truth, it can be a very boring book if you're not reading with the right mentality. It still became a favorite though because if its subject matter: it's about how our societies are slowly giving up control over their own culture and instead relying on machines and computers and technology. Now, I'm an Internet addict as much as any other person my age, but between deciding what's right for myself or letting a computer decide, I think I'll stick to my head. I might have some screws loose and some more missing, but I trust myself more than the impending rise of computers.

Anyway, I'll stop waxing philosophical for a bit. I was out today, as usual, and when I made my last stop at Subway before heading home, who should I find but an old classmate of mine from middle school. As I'd said in another entry, I have fond memories of high school, and I still think it contributed to helping me turn away from the dark path I'd been walking on. It wasn't the sole reason, mind you, because to change as a person, you yourself must want to change, and at some point in tenth grade, I'd met my best friends, saw that they were normal people and that I wanted to be somewhat like that too. Middle school, by comparison, screwed me up for life, and it's one period of my life that I don't look back on very fondly. A quite personal event sometime before that kinda started everything, but it still sucked.

This classmate of mine, though, was one of the few people I knew could genuinely be nice to me and not abuse me or step all over me. It felt weird seeing her after so much time. Last time was the prom actually. I could tell that not only I had changed, but so had she. Apparently she's engaged, but it's going to be a long engagement till she and her fiance both finish college, which is nice to hear. It was still startling to see how much we'd both changed. Funny thing with me is that I don't really notice how much I change, because I tend to act the same on the outside.

But what was more startling was how after talking to this girl again, I feel that I can finally let go of my time in middle school. I'll still hate it, and I'll still wish it had never happened, but I can just let go of it now. If anyone were to ask me, rather than shrug, I'll say it straight out: middle school sucked for a lot of reasons, but I'm still alive and I managed to survive, and I managed to become a better person than I was. Besides, I don't entirely regret it, because if I were to wish for that time to change and for it to have never happened, then I wouldn't be who I am today, for better or worse.

And now, in honor of Superman Returns, a lovely comic from the guys at Penny Arcade.

I'm reminded of the guy from that show American Dad, I seriously am.

On age

2006-06-27T21:10:00.000-04:00

As most of you know, I'm 18...but, as of next week, I'll be 19. Go me, I'm getting older. Still, it's an odd feeling. I like being 18 a lot, despite the fact that I still have limitations (which won't go completely away till I'm 21). Being 19, thus far, doesn't strike me in any particular way. It doesn't stand out. I'm just one year away from being the 2-0. Actually, being 19 would make it the tenth anniversary of a particular point in life that I still struggle to come to terms with. Other than that, I'm not really sure how to feel.

Hmm...maybe on one side I'll feel slightly more mature, like I'm taking a step in the right direction. This may or may not hold up to be true, considering how extremely immature I can be at times. As they say, age is just a number, and it's true. If we lived on some planet that had no gravity, we'd never physically age. We just age because of gravity. We also age because of a lot of other biological reasons, but shush, don't spoil my lil theory here. Right at this moment, getting older has me slightly apprehensive, but at the same time, I don't really mind the thought. I get the feeling I'll live a long life, so I don't see why getting old should bother me. It'll happen anyway.

Anyway, I'll be 19, still young enough to act as stupid as I want, and old enough to have responsibilities, and that's more than enough. When it actually is my birthday, I might rant a little more, supposing I have nothing to do that day (because I usually end up celebrating my birthday before or after the actual day).

On weird dreams and fetching

2006-06-26T20:28:00.000-04:00

My top five weirdest dreams that I can remember.

1. I once dreamt that I was out at Nono's over in Viejo San Juan, drinking with a bunch of friends, and in steps Alf. We were all laughing, and then I see Alf and I say, "hey, it's Alf, put up a chair buddy!" And we keep drinking and laughing with Alf.

2. I dreamt that I was helping Tidus from Final Fantasy X become alive again to reunite with Yuna. He had to retrieve the Sorcerer's Stone from some evil person's clutches, but failed because, being a ghost, he can't touch anything. Saddened, he returned to his shack, where he lived with Sam, Frodo and Gandalf The Grey.

3. I once gave a Power Point presentation to George Lucas's team on how to make movies. I even remember George was sitting in the front, taking notes and paying close attention.

4. I had an entire dream in comic book panels. Everything that happened was stuff that normally happens to me on any given day...except it all happened in separate panels, with sound effects and everything.

5. I dreamt that I was part of a team of scientists that discovered that the planets in the universe were polluting it, so we came up with a project to shrink said planets and bury them here on Earth. Only problem was that they also wanted to do this with the Sun, and I spent most of my dream trying to prevent this.

I swear to God I'm not on drugs.

If you ask me, the dog is smarter than Superboy is.

On reaching the limit and kitties

2006-06-24T19:00:00.000-04:00

As you all know, I've been on this exercize routine of mine almost ever since I started this blog. Lately, I've been skipping days, but on the whole, I'm still on track. I think so far, my only big disappointment is that I seem to have reached my limit in terms of how much I can handle. Hard as I've been pushing, there's just no budging that limit. I'm trying to figure out why I can't push this limit forward. When I used to do ballet, I handled a lot more physical exercize than what I'm currently doing, and I still managed to have the normal amount of energy like everyone else. Let's just forget that I'd fall asleep in class for a sec.

I suppose this has me thinking as to what might happen if I reach my limits elsewhere in life. Like, what if one day I find the limit of my acting talent, and fail to expand from there? Right now, it's not a problem, because I've been able to interpret quite a variety of different roles, and I've been able to reach out into all extremes of emotional portrayal. I've yet to find my limit. Someday though, I might find that limit. What'll I do then? Will I simply accept it and realize that I am human, and therefore I have my limits? Or will I be as stubborn as I always am and continue trying to push the unmoveable barrier that seems to be there?

I think though that the reason humans can continue to create and to live and to amaze and astound is the fact that we're always searching for our limits. We might not find them for a long time, or we might already know how far we can go. But, while that limit is there, it serves as a measuring stick for us. It serves as a way to reach out and touch and see if we're there or not, and how many times have we actually pushed ourselves to our limit. Some of the most awe-inspiring things on this earth are things that were created when people were searching for their limits.

In a way though, those who never find their limit, and who continuosly (sp?) push and push...they're the lucky ones, and they're the truly talented ones. If you don't know where your limit is, or how long it'll take to reach it, you can spend so much time creating and thinking and feeling without that obstacle, and as you keep on creating and thinking and feeling, what comes out will always be better than the last. Those who've found their limits, it's not to say that they become completely stagnant and unfeeling. But some of those who find their limits tend to dig themselves into a rut that's nearly impossible to climb out of. Others, though, are much more capable of accepting their limits and they continue to create awe-inspiring things within their limits.

Am I scared of finding my limits? To be honest, not at all. What I am scared of is never being able to keep on reaching out to find my limit, and to remain continuosly stagnant in life and in everything I do. So long as I continue to reach out and feel my way around, that's when I'll be happiest, not stagnant or simply watching things pass by me. This is probably why I'm still stubbornly pushing myself in my exercize routine. I know I can do this, I know I can do this...

Um, Robin? Kittens? What?

On flirting and Superboy Hitler

2006-06-23T20:32:00.000-04:00

There are a million and one ways to flirt. I'm not an expert, but I am quite confident in my skills. If I try hard enough, I can wrap 4-5 guys round my fingers in a single night, and I have done it several times too. But, I'm not going to make a how-to guide on how to properly flirt here, mainly because there're too many things to cover. I'd be better off writing a guide on how NOT to flirt for men. And that's more or less what I'm about to do.

No step by step guide here. Just a scenario all men looking to either get into a serious romantic relationship or just want to bring a cute chick back home with them. There's no way in hell you'll ever get a girl to even look at you if all you do is say, "Heyyyy, you're cute, I'll bet she's 18 guys, and damn look at those boobs and ass, my name's [thisname], my phone number's [thisnumber], call me!" On the plus side, it's been awhile since I've punched anyone, so that felt immensely good.

Too bad he can't ever be a proper Nazi youth unless he bleaches his hair.

On alcohol, drugs and piggy back rides

2006-06-22T09:31:00.000-04:00

You know what? I have a rant at the back of my head nagging at me like no tomorrow, so I'm going to torture you all and write it here. Gezuntide.

So, as I'm sure I've made obvious, I have no qualms myself of drinking every now and then, and on occasion, getting mildly drunk. For me, it's a way of just forgetting stuff and of having fun with friends, but I never ever let myself go overboard. But. I absolutely HATE people who make a fucking habit out of it, as in people who are heavy drinkers, who get drunk every fucking day, and who don't give a fuck about what the people who cares about them thinks. I really fucking hate it. Okay, so if you're someone I don't know, someone who is basically an aquaintance or just a casual buddy, I really won't give a fuck. Fuck with your life however you want really. But I hate it when people I DO care about are like this. I hate it when they treat alcohol so fucking lightly.

Do you know WHY I don't like it? I'll tell you why. I don't like it because they don't give a fuck about whether or not they might be hurting the people they're close to. I don't like it because when you're drunk, you're a completely different person, and you might hurt people that way, physically or mentally. And I absolutely fucking hate it because most of the time, they don't care about what happens to themselves. Well why DON'T you care about yourself? Why DON'T you give a fuck about the people who care about you? Is it that you're so convinced that no one cares that you do it? Is it your fucking fallback because you can't handle something in life? Or are you just so fucking arrogant that you think nothing will happen? What is it?

And you know what? This doesn't just apply to alcohol. It extends itself to drugs too! Because it's the same train of thought. Sure, nothing'll happen, it's just once in a while, it doesn't matter. To me it does matter. So you don't care and you're arrogant enough to think nothing'll happen, okay. But what about me and anyone else watching? I've spent my whole damn life watching people do this kind of thing with alcohol and with drugs. They drop out of school and you never hear of them again, they screw their brains up so bad that they can barely make it past school, they take things out on you physically or verbally. Worst of all, slowly, they completely change into different people, and you wonder if you ever even knew them in the first place. That's what hurts the most, and I hate it. It's not that I want to tell people what to do, because I myself hate it. I just hate having to see what this kind of shit does because I've had to see it so many times already. And the sad part is, the people who're supposed to matter, me or anyone else, really don't matter at all, because they just don't care anymore.

Well, that was a short-lived rant, but it was the essence of what I wanted to say. If I say anymore, I'll just snap. Hell I already feel like punching or kicking walls. The kicking part would actually be a bad idea for my bad knee. The last time I did that when I was pissed I could barely walk for a week. Oh how that knee might haunt me when I start getting old. Anyway, howzabout something funny now?

They're either trying out for ballet, or it's a piggy back ride. You guys decide.

On me and being fat

2006-06-20T20:34:00.000-04:00

I think my first entry here was a quick summary about myself. I kind of feel like redoing that again in this entry. Part of the reason is that it was a copy paste from a similar entry I did over at my LiveJournal, when I got a huge flood of people on my friends list, and I figured they should get a rundown of who the hell I am. And the other reason is that I feel like writing a little about myself, despite my inclination to avoid talking about myself most of the time. So here goes I suppose.

Hello, nice to meet you all. Well, no, I haven't met any of you, but hey, I have faithful readers who enjoy written torture, so good enough. My full name (first anyway) is Diamar, literally translated as day and sea, how rockin' is that? I'm told it's actually a rare name in Spain, and not something totally made up. When I was in elementary school it was one of the many things I was teased and bullied for, but somehow, I still absolutely love it. But, for the record, you can all call me Di. I prefer it since it's easier to remember for our ADD-ish lives.

I'm an eighteen year old female, and I'll be ninteen in about two weeks. In most places in the US, I'd be 100% able to do whatever the hell I want, but being here, half of stuff you have to be eighteen for and half you have to be twenty one, which sucks. I'm supposed to be a college student, entering her second year sometime soon. There're a few problems with that though. First, I had to skip this spring semester, because I wasn't able to pay my dorms from the previous semester on time, and they fucking canceled my enrollment. Second, I really really want to move out and start diving into the movie biz hardcore. But we'll see what happens. Anyway, in college, I'm a Theater major, and the time I spent during my first semester in my concentration courses were awesome.

Basically, I consider myself an actress and a writer. It took me most of my life to figure it out, but thank God I did. I was gonna study biology. Eww. Funny thing is that when people meet me and see me and the way I am normally, they wouldn't think I'm an acting type at all, and yet, I never fail to impress. That's because I have the ability to understand any kind of character and play as them. And, so it seems, this ability transfers itself to my writing, as my one big strength in writing is character portrayal. It's a knack. Anyway, I'm just mostly an amateur in both writing and acting, seeing as I haven't gotten anything published yet, nor have I been able to appear in any official plays, much less movies. But hey, one thing at a time.

My personality, on the whole, is a mix of stuff. Mainly though, I am an aloof, absent-minded, and quite laid-back. I also usually remain in the stoic area, occasionally come off as taciturn, and I have a habit of saying a lot of things I shouldn't. When I'm with people I trust I relax more though, and I can come off as either more normal or even more twisted, depends on your definition of normal and twisted. Despite my mellow side, on very rare occasions, I can and do snap, badly, mainly because I have a short temper that I usually surpress. This doesn't happen very much though, so unless you piss me off, you're safe. I also have a very cruel evil streak, but it's really not that bad. I'm a very kind and loyal person to those who earn it.

The way I view life and things in general is also something not quite normal. There are a lot of things that I don't see the normal way, and most of my opinions and thoughts are quite unconventional, but this doesn't really bother me. Why I turned out like this is a total mystery to me though. Maybe I was Ghandi in my last life, that would so totally rule. But, to sum up, I am awesome with a dash of cool and a side of evil and intelligence.

This paragraph should be a summary about life till now. I was born in Colorado, lived in Panama for two years, Kansas for two years, Conneticut for five years, then I moved down here to Puerto Rico and I've been here since. I've been in private school most of my life, though some of it was Catholic school. Run by nuns. The high school I went to was Escuela Secundaria San Germán Inter, and I enjoyed most of my time there. We constantly competed with the guys at SESO for lots of stuff, mostly in Forensics League and top grades and stuff, and students too. The details of my life in general I don't feel like giving out though.

Interest-wise, I have lots of favorite things. I like anime and manga, but not all of it. Favorite anime would be FLCL, favorite manga would be a tie between Fruits Basket and Naruto. I love movies as well. Some favorites include Kill Bill, Pirates of the Carribean, LOTR, Star Wars (original trilogy ftw), Memoirs of a Geisha, the old Pink Panther movies, Who Framed Roger Rabbit, and quite a few more. And I absolutely love music, so much so that I have to put a list of my fav bands here.

The Flaming Lips
Bright Eyes
Green Day
Nirvana
AFI
A Perfect Circle
Lacuna Coil
Xiu Xiu
Gorillaz
Bad Religion
The Pillows
Air
Unwritten Law
Incubus
Jimmy Eat World
My Chemical Romance
Nightwish
Saosin
Broken Social Scene
The Postal Service
Paramore
Modest Mouse
Bloc Party
The Cloud Room
The Arcade Fire
HIM
From First To Last
Queens of the Stone Age
Boxcar Racer
Sneaker Pimps
DJ Tiesto
Black Flag
The Appearance
Sex Pistols
The Ramones
Anti-Flag
Pearl Jam
The Dresden Dolls
The Strokes
Dropkick Murphys
The New York Dolls
La Secta
Audio Karate
Rise Against
Reggie and the Full Effect
The Clash
Jumbo
Refused
Social Distortion
Bouncing Souls
Misfits
The Dead Milkmen
Mindless Self Indulgence
Dead Kennedys
Depeche Mode
The Velvet Underground
Violent Femmes
Iggy Pop
Suicidal Tendencies
Sonic Youth
The Pixies
MC5
Kiss
ZZ Top
From Autumn To Ashes
Ra
Say Hi To Your Mom
World Leader Pretend
Angels & Airwaves
Calle 13

There. I love music.

I think this completes this entry. You can go bang your heads against walls for reading more about me now. Oh, and...

Thanks Brit, for restoring some of my self-esteem. I no longer feel fat.

On driving and plot changes

2006-06-19T23:12:00.000-04:00

I don't get a chance to do this often, mostly because I don't have a car, but when I can, I like taking random, aimless drives. They usually help me think, much like the way aimlessly walking does. But with driving, it's a lot more fun because I can blast my music loud and just go to other places farther away from town, like Borders. As boring as this town might be half the time, I will always love it for its rural roads. The town still has a lot of areas like that, and I love to drive through those roads, even if some are too narrow and you could seriously get in a bad accident at night or something.

'Cause see, when I do that, walking or driving aimlessly, I really do tend to just lose myself in thought, using just enough to, say, cross the street or make sure I don't crash into the car in front of me. It's the best way for me to think things out and make thought-out decisions, as opposed to my usual method of deciding things on a whim. And sometimes, deciding things on a whim can be bad (though it usually turns out good for me). I'm one of those people who likes to spend time just thinking or reading or something of the sort. If I could get paid to just think and nothing else, I'd be a millionare. I realize though, that this is probably part of the reason why people perceive me to be strange, twisted and aloof, but that's fine with me. I don't like being considered normal anyway.

I also like parking my car somewhere along these roads and just sitting on the hood for a bit, watching things. That's just what I did today. I found a nice spot alongside a rural road, in front of a field with cows and a few houses, so I parked, left my music on, sat on the hood, and smoked a cigarette while watching it all. It was nice. People don't take the time to sit back and watch life move by nowadays. We're all too busy, too pressed for time, to notice both the big and small things. It's all just what's going on right now, and even though I consider the present and living in the present to be really important, that's not all we should do. We shouldn't forget that this world isn't about just us living in it. There are a lot of other things that go on, all the time, and sometimes, just watching it all go by can teach you a valuable lesson.

So, I finally started revising my first novel. Go me. I'm thinking, and if I decide to go for it, I'm going to end up changing an entire plot arc by the time I'm done. This depends on how doable this is without ruining the rest of the story though, but we'll see. Thankfully, I have all the chapters backed up in their own files on Word, so if it turns out to be bad or makes no sense, then I'll just replace the necessary chapters. I'm gonna try writing in my new novel tomorrow too. I'd like to see if I can't get it done soon.

Finally, I share with you all my favorite episode of Aqua Teen Hunger Force.

"Hey guys, I thought you wanted juice. Guys?"

On hell and thoughts

2006-06-18T18:08:00.000-04:00

So, for those who've started reading my novel, thank you. It's quite appreciated, lemme tell you. Hopefully, I'll start revising it soon. Like, later tonight soon. If I feel like it. Well, I should feel like it. I placed a goal on myself to get it published by the end of this year, and I intend to fulfill that goal even if it kills me. Though, preferably, I'd like to, y'know, not die in the process. Also because I started writing a new novel already, and I have yet another one that I've had since 2003. I've barely written in it though, since I'm stuck. But, I have faith that sooner or later, the concept will completely tie itself together and I can sit and write.

Anyway, all this about writing and publising has me thinking. I have no idea how to get a book published. I haven't the slightest clue where to start, where to go, what I'm supposed to do, how does the whole thing work. In short, I'm lost in this. I think what I need is just a slight push in the right direction for me to get this whole publishing thing going. I mean, what exactly am I supposed to do? Send this to publishing houses or set up appointments or what? It's all kinda confusing and complicated. Maybe if I ran a search on Google something'll pop up. Google's awesome like that. Hey, gotta look somewhere, right?

All this thought of how to get things published though also gets me thinking about my wish/dream/goal to become a top-tier actress. Where the fuck do I start? No, really. Do I get some kind of agent who'll get me small roles and stuff, and work my way up slowly but surely? Do I look up auditions myself? I'm not doubting the fact that I will be one of the most talented actresses this world'll see, but it's still nerve wracking to think about where it is I'm supposed to start. 'Cause once I know where to start, the rest falls in place, it's always been like that for me. That, and if there's one good quality I have, among my twisted ones, it's that I'm a goal-centered person. I might lack motivation at times and I might be lazy, but when I have a well-defined goal set, I work hard and long till that goal is met. Thank God I'm like that, otherwise I wouldn't have the motivation for this.

Funny thought though. What'll happen when I become famous and people find this blog and realize "hey WOW it's this girl from this movie, she was totally awesome in it!" or "this is the author of that book? Wow, gotta read!"? Well, maybe not the second, since I plan on publishing under pennames. But still. The thought of a boatload of fans reading this is motivating, satisfying, creepy and scary all at the same time. But that doesn't scare me as much as the thought of papparazzi. I figure if I just ignore that whole deal and keep my private life private (the way it should be), it might not be such a problem. Another good quality I have is that I'm so aloof with my head in the clouds that fame and money probably won't do a thing to change me. I'd probably just use the fame to do crazy awesome stuff and the money to build my own giant robot. But hey, if you had the opportunity, you'd do the exact same thing. Don't say you wouldn't, I can see you.

I wonder when it was I started thinking that I'd be at the top one day. Hmm...I think I've always thought that. I'd used to watch movies or TV shows and instead of thinking of the people in it as faraway objects that are just for entertainment, I'd think of them as my predecessors, the people that I'd be replacing someday with my own talent. I've been told I'm a good actress since first grade, even though I didn't really start believing in myself till high school. And I've had a knack for writing, even if I didn't really see it as such till some time ago. I'd always been indecisive as to what it is I'd be in the future, but maybe it wasn't that I was indecisive. Maybe I was just gravitating around different things, subconsciously deciding whether or not this or that would suit me, and if I decided that it didn't, I'd move on to something new. Considering I haven't changed my mind about acting or writing, and that I've decided to give the music world a whirl too, I think I've finally settled on my true callings. I'm glad anyway, nothing's worse than gravitating through life without meaning or purpose.

Today was a pretty good day too. 'Twas sunny at the beach. I also decided to reread Fruits Basket, probably one of my favorite manga series, and been playing LoZ: Wind Waker a little more. Now, instead of sailing aimlessly, I'm now sailing around, finding charts which I have to get deciphered for insane amounts of in-game money, to later go to the spots and dig up whatever it is I have to dig up. Ugh, I have a headache just thinking about it.

And now, Happy Father's Day. I leave you with AMV Hell 3: The Motion Picture. If you have about an hour and eight minutes to kill, go ahead and watch it, even if you don't like anime or don't know what it is. It's pure hilarity.

The sound quality's horrible, but that's because the YouTube version went from being the original 700MB to about 78MB, so it's easier to load.

Also, Italy and the US tied in their game yesterday. Damn you Italy, you should've effin' won! Then again, with the US going on complete defense, it's not a surprise.

On a variety of random things.

2006-06-17T11:09:00.000-04:00

Alrighty folks, I am here to occasionally oblige whenever I feel that I'm not too lazy to do it. It's a good thing I have my novel posted at FictionPress, so this makes it easier for you all to go over and have a read. The title is still tentative, because I'm not sure if it's the title it should have. So, I can sum up the whole thing in this sentence: it's simply the life of one girl and how she gets by it all. Now that you've read that, pretend you didn't read it, because I suck at summaries. So, go on over to FictionPress and read up on Seasons, my first complete novel. Now that it's done, I need to go revise it. There are a lotta places where I need to fix sentence structure, because, out of habit, when I write in English I tend to write sentences the way I would in Spanish. The troubles of being bilingual. At least this means I'll be able to score more jobs when I move to the US.

On another note, I found Amanda Palmer of the Dresden Dolls blog here on Blogger. It's quite an interesting read, to say the least. It also just confirms my belief that she definetely has screws loose in the head. I like people like that, the ones that aren't afraid of hiding their small insanities. It's like one of my favorite quotes: "We're all a little broken, we're all a little twisted, we're all a little less than we could be, or want to be." Said by Conor Oberst of Bright Eyes, an emo yet completely enjoyable indie band from Nebraska. Actually, it's more like "Conor Oberst and whoever the hell he brings with him on tour", but let's not fret over small details.

I was watching CNN Headline News the other day, and they were going on about this video of kids who ganged up on police or something like that, and then posted the video over at Myspace. There was also this news going around about a fifteen year old girl who was going to the Middle East to see this guy she met at Myspace. Okay, there are more than a few things wrong with these scenarios. First, even though I have a Myspace account, I use it for the sole purpose of keeping up with my crew of buddies from college, since most of them have a Myspace, and I can figure out when this or that is happening. So I just log in once a week or so to check it out, and that's it. In actuality, I can't stand the whole idea of Myspace. Gee, let's post a pic about ourselves and decorate our profiles with useless videos and crap that either takes forever to load or just crashes my browser entirely. And then let's meet these hot guys who's faces you can barely see or these chicks with huge boobs taken from an "angle". You do NOT go to Myspace to meet potential soul mates, and you do NOT upload videos of violence against police officers at Myspace. I'll just go ahead and blame their stupidity, not their parents.

On a quick, random note: between the horrible N-Gage and this homebrew L64, I'll take the L64. It's a portable N64 for cryin' out loud! I can finally play Ocarina of Time and Goldeneye on the go! Well, if I had the money to buy it. In all truth, if I had the money, I'd be buying myself that shiny new DS Lite. And I just might as my birthday present to myself.

Also, I love my iPod Nano, but I wish I'd gotten the 30GB one. Then again, I didn't have the money for it. Damn you Apple.

Now that I'm done rambling, I leave you with my absolute favorite Looney Tunes skit, ever.

EVER.

On college tuition and freedom

2006-06-16T11:11:00.000-04:00

Paying for college tuition blows. I hate the whole deal. Alright, sure, college isn't free, I know that, and you know that. That's okay, I can deal. There are a few things about that with which I can't deal with though.

First, I hate how you're charged up the ass in credits, and then, try as you might to pay your whole balance (tuition plus dorms plus whatever the hell they fell like charging you for), if you don't have it paid off by [insert date], then you're screwed. "Oh yes, we offer a wide variety of financial aid y estamos comprometidos en ayudar a usted a pagar sus estudios...oh wait, you didn't pay off the remaining balanced? Sorry, we're gonna have to cancel your enrollment for this semester." Yeah, you guys care SO much, don't you?

And see, another funny thing here is that about 90% of most financial aid available is only available to those with economic need. Economic need my fucking ass. Those who supposedly need the money don't even use most on college. They pay what they need to, and they use the rest to buy themselves fancy cars, rent out swanky apartment and to buy their fucking weed. While those, like myself, who barely qualify for financial aid, have to sit by, bust our ass to pay our way, and get not a dime from either the college or from the federal government. If you ask me, instead of basing each and every stupid scholarship, federal or otherwise, on economic need, how 'bout taking a look at the fucker's grades? 'Cause, I dunno, I don't think it's fair to deny more federal aid to the person who got good grades in high school, but approve it to the schmuck who barely scraped by in high school but is supposedly poor.

Finally, when all hope is lost, when work study, part-times and any other cash you can scrape from corners just isn't enough, what do they do? They tell you to get a goddamned loan. On top of any other loans you already got from the federal government. Oh, awesome, just what I need, a loan or five to pay off college, only to be in miserable debt when I graduate. See, if you ask me, it's a fucking conspiracy. You take loans to pay through college, you get your degree in God knows what, business or philosophy or whatever, and then, soon as you get a job, your paychecks are not only devoted to general living expenses, but also to pay off those fucking loans, which is also money you could be using on other loans to buy a car. Car > college loan. Thank you, capitalist pigs.

Well, in other news, I'm nearly finishing up my novel. I've finally got inspiration on how to write the ending, so I should be wrapping that up as soon as I'm done typing this entry. I also got inspiration for a new novel. I'm basing it around the concept of freedom and around 1984. The main character's male, but I'm modeling his inner thoughts around my own. His personality's way more twisted than mine though. The main character for my first novel is a lot more like me in general. Anyhow, yeah, I'm gonna just be playing with that concept and see how it goes. This second novel won't be long. In fact, it'll probably be just a tad longer than Aura by Carlos Fuentes. My point isn't to make it long, I just want to get a point across.

Old comics are the best, if only because half the time they have hilarious innuendos or they just don't make sense.

On anime and video games

2006-06-15T10:04:00.000-04:00

I've got about five torrent windows up and running right about now. I probably shouldn't have so many open, because, much as I love this computer for being mine, it doesn't have enough RAM to hold up with too many things open. Plus, I'm also using Firefox, which is a total RAM hog, despite being miles and miles ahead of IE (and most other browsers). I guess you could argue that Opera might be better, but I doubt that. That, and I need harddrive space for music and for what my torrent windows are downloading.

Anyway, I happen to be downloading season two episodes of Tsubasa: Resevoir Chronicles. Sadly, I missed the last episode of the first season, because it got licenced recently. And, the policy that these online anime subtitlers' (known as subbers I think), is to take down a project as soon as it's licenced. 'Course, anime like Naruto is still being subbed, but that's because they're about a million miles ahead over in Japan (just like the comics). I don't usually bother downloading anime, or buying it, or watching much of it anymore. I was motivated to start on this one last year because it's based on one of my current favorite mangas (same name). On the whole though, I will be one of those to tell you that nowadays, a good eighty to ninety percent of anime sucks. The bad kind of sucking too.

The problem, first, is that a lot of anime that gets done is based off manga. Look, I dunno about most Japanophile kawaii-wai jackasses out there, but for the most part, I'm really just not interested in anime adaptions of series' that I could easily either buy for much cheaper at Borders, or download with a lot less hassle (because some pages of manga is a lot smaller than an episode of anime in terms of megabytes...each episode of Tsubasa I'm downloading is about 172 MB each). Also, a lot of the time, the quality of the animation and of character design is extremely subpar when compared to the manga.

And that's another problem in and itself. Anime gets rushed out too fast, the animation is terrible sometimes, and it just leaves a sour taste in my mouth. Of anime studios out there, the only one I have a little respect for is Gainax, because they brought out two of the greatest original anime series out there: Neon Genesis Evangelion and FLCL. Neither are based on anime, and both became extremely populer. Evangelion especially, there are a heck of a lot of nerds out there who love the series. Evangelion's animation quality ain't that great, but its subject matter completely makes up for it. FLCL is in a class of its own, I'd need to devote an entire entry to explain its brilliance.

Finally, more than the anime itself, I hate the fans of it on this side of the world. They think each and every series that gets licenced here is ten times better than anything that could be released from here. They get a warped idea about what Japan might be like based on some animated cartoons about a big-breasted robot girl living with a loser in high school with the power to grant wishes at the expense of said loser's limbs. Japan is not like that at all. Japan has both its good and its bad stuff, just like any other damn country in the world. You go try living there, go ahead and see if you can handle that fucker of a culture shock when you realize that there ARE no robot girls out there waiting to grant wishes for you if you sacrifice your arm. And while I'm at it, American people should stop trying to draw their own manga and stick to American style comics. Manga is JAPANESE manga. You're not Japanese, you're AMERICAN.

But you know, something I find mildly amusing is the fact that Japanese stuff can sell so well on this side of the world, but the Xbox 360, a Microsoft product, is doing terribly in Japan, just like the Xbox before it. Still, as much as I hate anything Microsoft (I'm sorry, but the Xbox systems have absolutely no games that interest me, at all), they might gain more ground when the PS3 is released. God, $600? What the hell is Sony thinking? People will still buy it sure, but goddamn, that system had better have games so awesome they make me cream in my pants. I don't have $600 to waste on a goddamned console. If I had that kind of money, I would've been out of here and in Chicago right now. No, if you ask me, Nintendo honestly has the right idea this time around (finally). They have the cheapest console, and they're out to get normal, non-gaming people (wich is a huge market in and itself). Plus, that control of theirs looks mighty interesting. A lot of cool games could be made taking advantage of that. Pricewise, $250 > $400 > $600. Yeah, Nintendo has the right idea.

Anyway, back to poking my torrents. Oh good, one's finally done. Four to go. By the way, I'm still stuck sailing in Wind Waker. Dear God. Yeah, I'm a nerd. And damn proud.

The Amazing Spider Man, doing what a spider can to...combat illiteracy. Okay, I can see the point, but kindly take out War of the Worlds. I'm sorry, but there's just no making me forget that horrible movie with that bastard Cruise.

On the origins of my blog title

2006-06-13T17:09:00.000-04:00

So, where did the title of my blog come from? Was it from a profound moment of epiphany? Or some kind of realization as to who it is I am? Well, not really. I got the idea from the lyrics of The Perfect Fit by The Dresden Dolls. On the whole, I consider myself a good-for-nothing and a deadbeat in general, so when I heard this song for the first time, it felt as though it was written for people like me. And I also figured that maybe there'd be people on this wide 'Net interested in reading the thoughts of a good-for-nothing deadbeat. Actually, I sorta thought that maybe I was deluding myself, but it turns out I was kinda right.

Anyway, scope out the lyrics. And maybe start up LimeWire and download it. Or if you have cash and you're compelled to buy music, buy the track on iTunes or something.

I could make a dress

A robe fit for a prince
I could clothe a continent
But i can't sew a stitch

I can paint my face
And stand very very still
Its not very practical
But it still pays the bills

I can't change my name
But i could be your type
I can dance and win at games
Like backgammon and life

I used to be the smart one
Sharp as a tack
Funny how that skipping years ahead
Has held me back

I used to be the bright one
Top in my class
Funny what they give you when you
Just learn how to ask

I can write a song
But i cant sing in key
I can play piano
But i never learned to read

I can't trap a mouse
But i can pet a cat
No i'm really serious!
I'm really very good at that

I can't fix a car
But i can fix a flat
I could fix alot of things
But i'd rather not get into that

I used to be the bright one
Smart as a whip
Funny how you slip so far when
Teachers dont keep track of it

I used to be the tight one
The perfect fit
Funny how those compliments can
Make you feel so full of it

I can shuffle cut and deal
But i can't draw a hand
I can't draw a lot of things
I hope you understand
I'm not exceptionally shy
But i've never had a man
That i could look straight in the eye
And tell my secret plans

I can take a vow
And i can wear a ring
And i can make you promises but
They won't mean a thing

Can't you do it for me, i'll pay you well
Fuck i'll pay you anything if you could end this

Can't you just fix it for me, it's gone berserk...
Fuck i'll give you anything if
You can make the damn thing work

Can't you just fix it for me, ill pay you well,
Fuck ill pay you anything
If you can end this
Hello, i love you will you tell me your name?
Hello, i'm good for nothing - will you love me just the same?



If you laughed at that, you're a horrible person. But I laughed too. Welcome to the
conglomeration of horrible people.

On being a moron and sailing

2006-06-12T18:07:00.000-04:00

Ouch. Somone, please remind me to stretch before doing strenuos exercize. My legs are completely cramped and they're practically refusing to move. One of the reasons I regret giving up ballet is that I did a lot of hardcore exercize the whole week and I was on excellent shape. I fell asleep during class, but hey, I'm naturally intelligent, so I aced my classes anyway.

I've been playing LoZ: The Wind Waker. It's a fun game, and I like how they totally took advantage of the cartoony style in graphics. But I hate the sailing. I hate it. I'm currently stuck and I've been sailing back and forth the same areas and I hate it. It takes forever to get from point A to point B and back, and it's just a fucking hassle. Okay, maybe they were trying to recreate how tiresome sailing is. Good job Nintendo, recreating realistic sailing in a game about an elf kid saving a princess from an evil pig, with cartoony graphics. Save the realism for a realistic game like Grand Theft Auto. Oh wait...

Anyway, I'm just sitting here, realizing how much of a complete and total moron I am. Yes, a moron, an idiot, a jackass, and any other synonym you can think of. Why am I realizing this right now? Okay, let's start from the top. See, since summer's started, I've barely been able to talk to my jackass of a significant other. Huh, how opposite, I always thought summer = more time if you're around my age. Anyway, I've been busy, but he's been even busier, so that leaves us little to no time. But, I reached my limit this morning when, waking up, I realized he hasn't called in over a week. Yes, I was pissed. Purely pissed, no secondary emotion mixed in to screw it up.

A quick sidenote: yes, I can call him, but I don't because I have a slight phobia of calling people. It's a long story, but basically, I hate bothering people, and I prefer it when they call me, so that way I know they're not busy.

So there I was this morning, pissed off and thinking of any number of insults that I should throw at him the next time I talked to him. Then, on a forum the two of us are both members of, I received a private message from someone. That person had been bounced over to me by him, and when I read what he wrote about me, that's when I was hit over the head by a fucking sledgehammer the size and weight of about twenty bricks. He spoke so highly and nicely of me to said person. He had the time to remember me for just a moment, even though he's been working his ass off so he can have money for college. And there I was, being nothing but a good-for-nothing brat. He doesn't even know I was pissed, and I feel like apologizing so badly. I am such a goddamned moron.

And see, this isn't even the first time it's happened, and it hasn't been exclusively with him. Because, as perceptive as I can be, one of my bad qualities and downfalls is that, if I'm not using my head, I am a very thoughtless person. And this morning I was a thoughtless moron of a jackass. But, I needed that too. I needed an imaginary sledgehammer to smash me over the head and remind me that I'm still an immature kid with a very long way to go. Damn, but that hurt though. I don't need such huge sledgehammers to hit me over the head...go easy next time, okay life?

Life needs a sea chart like Wind Waker does, so we can see where we need to go next and what we should be doing there.

Thank God that was Photoshopped. He didn't really say that. It's still disturbing all the same. Maybe the hat's just a symbol of manhood.

On quotes and love

2006-06-11T17:33:00.000-04:00

"To never dream is to never live, don't dream your life, live your dreams."
-Unknown

"Writing is like prostitution. First you do it for the love of it, then you do it for a few friends, and finally you do it for the money."
-Moliere

"They say rock and roll is the devil's music. Well, let's say that it is, I got new for you, let's say that rock and roll is the devil's music and we know it for a fact to be absolutely, unequivically true...boy, at least he fucking jams!...If it's a choice between hell and good tunes or eternal heaven and New Kids on the fucking Block, I'm going to be surfing on the lake of fire, rocking out."
-Bill Hicks

Love is a very funny emotion. I read before that being in love is comparable to having a mental disorder of sorts, and it's true. It messes with your brain, it messes with your thoughts, and you tend to do a lot of stupid things that you later regret horribly. As wise as I may sound here, and as laid back as I am, I've been a victim to the horribly sticky web of love, just like any normal person out there. I think the worst that's ever happened to me...huh, which one to pick, I've had loads of bad experiences...well, maybe it was dating someone for six months, thinking that I actually loved him, and then him confessing that he was both gay and transexual a few days after we'd officially been dating for six months. When I look back, I should've stabbed him. I regret that I didn't.

Love in young people is a funny thing. We think that the whole world revolves around ourselves and the people we think we love. We're going to be with that person forever, we're going to get married to them. And the world still revolves around us when we break up. The world has become torrential and catastrophic. And absolutely no one can understand our pain. We're very self-centered like that. I'd like to think that it gets better with age, but that's not really true. With age, we might find someone, we might marry them, but if we're not careful, the love dies. All that's left is the memory of having loved that person. You remember you loved them because your mind tells you so, but your heart just isn't able to grasp that anymore.

Well, it's not like that happens to everyone. I'm not even generalizing; it just happens and it does happen. But that possibility is what worries me most. Sure, right now, all I want is a good time, as should everyone my age want (though most girls my age seem to be looking for their one true love...Jesus, you have your whole lives, don't concentrate on a one true love, there's no such thing). But down the road, five or six years from now, I'd like to get married to someone I love at that moment, and someone I also truely like and care about. Because you can love a person, but you neither have to like or care about them. You don't have to even give a damn if they go out and die in a ditch. I want someone I love, and like and care about, because as I get older, that's what's going to really stick around.

If the marraige ends, so be it. As much as I'd like to believe in fairy tales, there's no such thing as a one true love. And as much as I'd like to just have one true love, I get the feeling that I'll have several during my life, each one as passionate as the last one, and each one ending as painfully as the last. Dunno why God's condemned me to this, but I'll ask when I reach ol' Peter up there. 'Course, I'm also guessing. The guy I'm dating right now (six months, woo) is as likely to be the one I stick with my whole life, and is just as likely to break up with me tomorrow, next week, next year, whenever. That's the beauty of life and love: they're unpredictable, and you'll never know where they'll go next.

Moral of the lecture: if you're young, don't look for love, love comes to you. Just go out and have a good time. With protection. No one wants to have a kid to cart around for eighteen years afterwards if that's not what they wanted.

Watch out there big fella'. Clark Kent might secretly be gay, but he'll still punch your lights out for hitting his pretend wife.

On nothing in particular.

2006-06-10T17:31:00.000-04:00

I've been quite angry at nothing in particular, spiteful and jealous like a little brat, and extremely disappointed in myself, for a lot of reasons I don't feel like stating. So any worthwhile words I mighta had to write are not here today. They said they wanted the day off. So, why not? I'm sure they'll come back tomorrow, begging me to write them up here, so they won't be lonely or forgotten.

Anyway, however I may portray myself here, I've come to realize that my personality is roughly divided into two: a completely laid back, chill, somewhat apathetic side, and an extremely spiteful, angry and pissed off side. Most of my emotions can be lumped into one or the other. Before you say it, no, I don't have any mental disorders of any sort; in fact, I think most people can be defined as having two sides that make one whole personality. I just think I display them stronger than most. Basically, my personality is light and dark, yin and yang. When I'm in a mood that falls on the light side, things are decidedly like that. When I'm in a mood that falls on the dark side of things, things are decidedly like that. I feel things a lot more strongly than others, for better or worse. As it turns out, I'd been bottling up a lot of things, and I'd been in a very dark mood lately.

So what'd I do to fix it? Simple. Out of the blue, I wake up this morning, shower, put on some clothes, and I tell my mother that I'm going out for a walk. And I did, a very aimless walk I'll add. So aimless that, an hour later, I look up, smell sea water, and realize I've walked all the way to the beach. First reaction: huh? Yeah, it didn't hit me at first. But then I figured, eh, whatever, and I sat down on the sand and admired the ocean and soaked in the sun. It was nice. I think I just subconscioustly wanted to visit the beach and see the waves and the ocean. I always feel better when I do, and I did feel better. Then it hit me that I had to walk home. Great. But eh, I just trudged my feet and managed to claw my way back. Shoulda worn another shirt though, I've got the most uneven tan/sunburn now.

So, soccer. Germany won against Costa Rica, Ecuador against Poland. Let's see how the rest of the games go. I root for Argentina, Italy and Germany. France and South Korea have a chance at doing well. England and the US have little to no chance in hell (but hey, it'd be funny if they made it to the quarter finals like last time). And I refuse to root for Brazil.

"We have only one story. All novels, all poetry, are built on the never-ending contest in ourselves of good and evil. And it occurs to me that evil must always constantly respawn, while good, while virtue, is immortal. Vice has always had a new fresh young face, while virtue is venerable as nothing in the world is."

John Steinbeck

I've been following these scans on an LJ community...and I still don't get it. I never knew that Bat and Sups had sons.

EDIT: I just have to pimp this out. http://diariodelmesiasrosello.blogspot.com/ Esto es una de las mejores cosas que yo he visto en SEMANAS, en cuanto a sátira contra la "política" de nuestro país. En serio...it's even funnier because my mother's such a Roselló follower.

On hell and high school memories

2006-06-09T16:36:00.000-04:00

Mom: God, how can it be so damn hot already?

Me: It's called summer.

Mom: I call it hell.

She has a point. I just had to pick this time of year to start a workout routine in the hopes of becoming anorexic thin. It really is too hot here. Let's see...90 degrees. Ugh, wow. It'll be worse by end of July, mark my words. So, of course, doing exercize at this time of year in a room with no air conditioning is brutal. But hey, maybe sweating more will = more weightloss? I hope so anyway.

So, I'd like to say hi and thank you to the small group of readers I've acumulated since I started here on Blogger. You guys give me continuous motivation to sit myself in front of this webpage and write and rant about whatever comes to my head, and that's very appreciated. Otherwise, I wouldn't be writing this right now. Oh, so yeah, I live in Puerto Rico and whatnot, so why not write my entries in my fair language of Spanish? Because English is more universal. People will understand it more, and my thoughts'll reach more people. Aunque de vez en cuando, como ahora, tiendo a escribir alguna que otra oración en español, pa' chavar, o por que tiene que ver con gente de mi isla. We rule.

Anyway, I was looking back at my years in high school. I'll tell you, I had one hell of a time. I believe I mentioned before I went to one of the more prestigious schools in the island. Between you and me, I'm surprised I got in. The interview I had for the school was terrible. I was sure I answered my questions as eloquently as a ninnyhammer. But, c'est la vie, I got in. Now, the school was a lot of things, but easy it was not. Though I still managed to find time to waste on the Internet and at parties and whatnot, I still had loads and loads of work. I mean, every single week it was something, and it was usually neither easy nor simple. Senior year was by far the worst. The first semester I had seven classes, five of which were university level (because that's the beauty of my school: in 12th grade we take university classes), and I got out late every day. And the second semester, me being class secretary, I had shit to put up with and to plan, even though I only had a total of five classes.

But, the people I met and the good times I had were well worth all the work. My own class, we were weird and funny and the school's black sheep, because we were always doing something. In 10th grade we threw chairs out the window, and in 11th we collectively skipped school to go to the beach. As my dear English teach once put it, each and every person was an example of a different mental disorder. But, we were also smart and creative and talented, and we knew how to weasle our way out of trouble and how to charm, so we could usually repair any damage we caused. I think the teacher we charmed best was our homeroom teach for 11th and 12th grade, even if we hated each other at first. Looking back, it's actually pretty funny. Plus, the guy is now my mentor, to whom I ask for advice whenever I need it.

As fun as my class was though, they had nothing on the group of girls I'd come to call my best friends. Funny how that panned out. I clearly remember my first day at the school, I saw two of them, and they both stood out to me. I wanted to go introduce myself...but thought better. As it turned out, them two and the other two I'd befriend were all a year above me, in 11th grade...and both of our grades took Geometry together that year. So, sometime in October, I noticed that they had talent in drawing, so I struck a conversation. The rest is veritable history. Those girls and I had so much fun, and they were my social life. They made things seem way better than they actually were.

I think the thing I gained most out of high school, asides learning that being social can make you look good, was a thing called Western Forensics League. This inter-school competition is what showed me my true talents: acting and writing. I started competing when I entered high school, and I competed each semester till I graduated. Before, I liked writing, and I was interested in acting, but I didn't think I was any good at either. Well, the fact that my original pieces made it to the final rounds both times I used them, and the fact that I managed to pull off an insane person with little effort (insane people come naturally to me). And to think, I was going to major in biology. Eww.

I had bad times in high school, though, no denying that. I'll just blame the fact that at my absolute worst, I am stubborn, taciturn, I have a short temper and I usually don't listen to anyone, so you can imagine that I'd get in trouble with classmates and with teachers. Hell, I was rejected from the honor's society first time around because of all of those qualities. I'll never forget that meeting with the principal when she told me, especially because on the inside, I was just thinking, I really don't care, can I go eat before the good food's gone? I was a lot less like this by the time I finished high school, which was obviously good, but those traits are still traits of mine, for better or worse. Oh, and I skipped prom, haha. A lot of famous people skipped theirs though, so maybe I'm following tradition.

In short, I'd be such a different person if I'd gone to the town's public high school. Take what you can, give nothing back.

Duh, of course Santa has heat ray vision. What kind of bastard version of Santa wouldn't? Sheesh.

On beauty and spandex

2006-06-08T19:36:00.000-04:00

"There's more beauty in the truth, even if it's dreadful beauty. The storytellers at the city gate twist lies so that they look sweet to the lazy and the stupid and the weak, and this only strengthens their infirmities and teaches nothing, cures nothing, nor does it let the heart soar."

John Steinbeck, East of Eden

Also, so this entry isn't entirely philosophical:

TURN ON TO LOVE.

Dear God.

Oy, by the way, sorry for the fuck-up there of a triple post. Blogger's been slow and stupid.

On the Internet and iPods

2006-06-07T20:45:00.000-04:00

You know, I'll tell you all, scales suck. Mostly if you're a girl. Or a really self-conscious guy. It's like they challenge you. Come here, get weighed. It won't be so bad. I promise I won't break on you... Gee, like it's so easy. I did step on a scale today, to see if my dieting and hard exercize had done anything. Instead, I gained a goddamned pound. Yes yes, I know I'm not fat. I just have severe self-esteem issues.

So, I was just sitting here a bit ago, and contemplating the Internet. The Internet...God, what a funny concept. I remember back in the days when chats were popular. Oh, how easy it was for a forty-year-old sweaty trucker to seduce a nine-year-old girl who had the time to be in the chat. But of course, that's long gone and dead now, what with webcams and common sense. In most cases anyway. No, we all know what the Internet's really for: porn. Futurama always put it best. Everything else is decoration.

Sometimes though, people take some of the entertaining decorations of the Internet too seriously. I mean, if it's a manner of running a forum or a website and you're getting paid to do it, then I can see why. But let's take a forum I help run, AL. I'd be one of the admins, and I do it because I have the free time. None of the people who mod get paid at all. And yet, the guy who owns and runs the board treats it as though it were a real job. Look, hold up buster, until you start paying me wages for all the shit I put up with, I refuse to see this as a "job".

I mean, whatever happened to taking things lightly? Being more laid-back? The world ain't gonna end because we're running a forum that has no point. Leave that up to GaiaOnline. By the way, I'd kill for an admin job there, 'cause I'd actually get paid. Just kick back and relax. The Internet, among its many purposes, is to entertain, to relax and forget for a little while. That's the only reason I spend quite a bit of time online. I want to be entertained, I want to unwind and forget about most of the stuff that comes up during the day. I don't want to be given work I won't be paid for.

Then again, the guy who runs AL has no life. Whoops.

Also, here's an interesting article I found over at Yahoo. Long story short: iPods > beer in colleges, and I gotta agree here. I don't understand why college kids like beer so much anyway. It's disgusting. I didn't have a sip of the stuff last semester. I had Bacardi Silver, 42, vodka, Passoa, tequila...no beer though. It's disgusting. Besides, who doesn't want a slim and sexy iPod? They look good even if you're not drunk. I can't say the same about some men.

Now, I just had to post this comic.

I don't care what the plot is, just look at those damn facial expressions. Also, Robin's package is huge.

On the wind and Eden

2006-06-06T17:54:00.000-04:00

I've noticed that I have a pattern of updating this particular blog after my daily workout, and usually between 5-7pm, give or take. I suppose this is because the day's winding down and I have a bit of time to lay out any particular thoughts properly. And, that was a classic example of subtely murdering the English language.

So, I was at Borders today. Yes, my usual hangout, the one in Mayaguez. When I was at Sagrado last semester, the Borders in Plaza las Américas was my usual hangout whenever I wasn't so broke that I couldn't even afford the two (then three) quarters it cost to take the bus there. Being carless blows in ways you can't imagine sometimes. This wouldn't be the case if I said I was studying at, say, NYC. But I didn't. Anyway, at my hangout. I ordered some coffee, and a good friend of mine who works there, Thompson, was on break, so we sat and ate together. I told him that I was job hunting...and he told me what I already know: I have about as much luck of finding a job here as I would finding a clean prostitute in city slums. It's not surprising either; things ain't exactly peachy on this here island. One of my best friends, Yestebel, managed to get a job recently (coincidentially, she and Thompson are going out, and he makes a great dad to Yeste's son), but there's no way I'll have the same luck. Place that on top of the fact that I have to stick to this town only, due to lack of car. Remember what I said earlier about how it sucks to not have a car? There you go.

Funny thing is, Thompson also pointed out the irony that, if and when I drag myself to the US, I'd probably have no problem getting a job or three. Which will be great, honestly, but it won't be great until I get there. I need money to get there, and it's near impossible. I'll manage though. But anyhow, when I told him that I want to move out, he told me to go for it, to let life and the wind take me wherever it will take me. He told me that's how he's let his life go on, and there really is just no point in trying to control life's course. And he has a point. I might worry on and on about how I'm ever going to get to Chicago, but, if that's where I'm supposed to be in the near future, that's where I'll end up, one way or another. Though I'd prefer to end up there on a plane, and not in, say, a box among some fruit imports or something. It'd be cheaper and I'd live off fruit, but no.

Now that I think about it, this is the way I seem to have lived for the past 19 years or so, letting life take me where it needs to take me. Did I think I'd end up on this island and stay here for the past nine years? No. Could I predict that I'd end up at perhaps one of the most prestigious private schools on the island and have a kickass time? No. Would I have ever known that I'd stop being cynical about love and relationships? Dear God no. Life is very unpredictable like this, so it seems. I do sometimes get the feeling that perhaps a guardian angel of sorts is helping me guide along. If he or she is, I'm glad. Otherwise, I'd be more twisted and screwed up than I currently am.

On a side note, I bought East of Eden by John Steinbeck. I've just started, but so far, it's a very interesting book. It's like a retelling of the Genesis from the Bible, and I love the way the author describes both places and people. It's darkly humorous, vaguely uplifting and purely bittersweet, and I'm barely past chapter four. I'm going to like this book.

So, I leave you all with this highly important public service announcement.

It is my personal goal to make sure I disturb as many people with comics here as I can. If I can't do that, then I've failed at this blog.

Well, not really. I just want to entertain you guys.

On exhaustion and the masses

2006-06-05T21:15:00.000-04:00

This will be one of the rare times I will copy paste from my LiveJournal. I'm just fucking exhausted and I can't put together anything coherent at the moment.

Been busy. Taking care of stuff. Doing stuff for parents and brother. Stuff. Haven't been sleeping well. Last night was terrible. I woke up early today to go with my brother to his university. I forgot how much I hated walking around there. I don't remember walking back home. Came home eventually, fell asleep, woke up about 25 minutes ago. Made a payment for this LJ thing. Uh...playing Wind Waker now.

Oh, been looking for a job. That's been the biggest part of the stuff part. No luck though. I'm getting rather disappointed. Friends've been busy, but what else is new? Family's been vindictive on the whole and I don't know why. I haven't fucked up anything yet. I keep getting spam emails from Japan and Brazil. Talked to college buddies. One pissed me off, I think I'll punch him when I see him.

I got a kidney operation. AKA, my self-esteem'll be okay. Uhm. It's June. I'm going to be 19 in exactly one month, and I don't know what to do for my birthday. I want to tell my parents to give me cash and let me move out as my gift, but fat chance. I'm probably going to get more piercings as a gift to myself, just to piss off mom more, like with dying my hair red. Looked through AL album as a favor to my friend Khara to delete her pics, and went on one of them trips down memory lane. I hate most of my old pics, but I deleted the worst ones (ha).

I keep confusing the time. I need to eat more but I'll get fat. Currently am broke, pissed at my cousin and at life in general. I'm also lonely beyond belief, and disappointed in myself. I should go back to sleep before I cry or some stupid shit, but I'm still busyish, no luck there.

So, that's mostly it. Scary glimps at my thoughts. But, to give this entry more substance, I have two music recommendations for you guys.

World Leader Pretend is a five-person rock band from New Orleans, featuring Keith Ferguson (vocals/guitar/keyboards), Parker Hutchinson (keyboards), Matt Martin (guitar), Arthur Mintz (drums), and Alex Smith (bass). The band formed in 2002, and their name comes from the 5th track of the album Green by R.E.M..

Their first album, Fit For Faded was released in 2003 on Renaissance Records, a New Orleans label. In 2004, they were signed to Warner Bros. An appearance at the first annual CMJ Cleveland and a slew of North American tour dates coincided with the June 28, 2005 release of their major label debut, Punches.
Tracks to check: The Masses, New Voices

Say Hi To Your Mom is an American indie rock group run by Eric Elbogen. Though often considered a band, Say Hi to Your Mom is actually a solo project. Elbogen creates all the records in a bedroom and plays all the instruments on the records. He employs the talents of other musicians to play live while touring, however.

Say Hi to Your Mom is best known for its song, "Let's Talk About Spaceships", from the record Numbers and Mumbles, released on the label Euphobia. A fourth album titled Impeccable Blahs is set to be released July 25, 2006. The new album, according to Elbogen, is about vampires.
Tracks to check: They Write Books About These Sort Of Things, But She Beat My Highscore, Twenty Second Century, As Smart As Geek Is Chic Right Now

And now, before I collapse on this keyboard, I bid thee all adieu. Adios. Nos vemos.

On movies and Sunday articles

2006-06-04T17:16:00.000-04:00

Well, I haven't really written about movies just yet, have I? Yeah, I've mentioned X-men and Kill Bill, but that's it. So, I think I'll spend this post writing up a synopsis/general opinion on several of my favorite movies.

Rent: A movie based on a NYC Broadway of the same name, written by Johnathan Larson. Basically, it's like La Boheme, only set in NYC, with AIDS as the main thing killing off people since it's the early 90's and there was that huge epidemic, and a bunch of bohemians struggling to get through life. This movie has by far the most loveable cast around, and it's what will keep you hooked throughout the whole thing. There's Mark, the film maker wannabe who's basically at the sidelines, watching everything and kind of guiding his friends. There's Roger, the depressed former rock star who's looking to write one good song before AIDS takes him. There's Mimi, a young stripper who's fighting off drug addiction and falls for Roger. There's Maureen and Joanne, Maureen being a lesbian performer of sorts who dumped Mark for Joanne, a lawyer. And there's Collins and Angel, Collins being a sort of anarchist who got thrown out of MIT and Angel being a drag queen street performer and Collins's lover.

The whole movie is based around a year in their lives which changes constantly, with highs and lows and a tear-jerking ending. Plus, the music's catch as hell, and, as mentioned before, the characters are loveable and quirky. A word to the wise though: if you don't like musical movies, this won't change your opinion. Otherwise, just kick back and enjoy the fireworks.

Kill Bill: Pure Tarantino genius. That's the most important thing to mention. It's a revenge story at its best, and in which none of the characters, not even the protagonist, is "good". It just centers around The Bride, who gets screwed over by her lover, and her quest of sorts to exact revenge on all those that ruined her life and left her in a coma for four years. Now, the first and best thing about this movie is the action. The action scenes are wonderfully choreographed down to the last detail. One of my favorite fights would be The Bride versus Gogo Yubari, because watching it is like watching choreographed dance. And it has all kinds martial arts.

Another great thing is the aesthetic on the whole. It plays out like this odd mix of a 70's action film and a modern-day crazy plot. Seriously, what kind of alternate world is this? I had no idea there were places where you could destroy hotel property and it was fine 'cause you'd never get caught. Finally, both a good and bad part is the unsettling ending. It leaves you wondering if this is all Tarantino really wanted to say. I think not. Anyway, if you like action movies, give this a go.

All I Want: This is a very strange movie. And it stars Elijah Wood. Oh god, more hobbits? Fear not, keep reading. This movie is actually about a barely-legal kid who, after taking one look at who his roommate would be in college, decides to drop out right on the spot, and moves into an apartment in the same town. And, the movie centers around this one kid and how he sees things and how he interacts with characters. There's his mother, for one, who's single, loose, and a heavy drinker, but still cares about her son, even if their relationship is iffy. There's the photographer across the hall, who is, at first, completely perplexed by this strange kid and somewhat obsessed, till by chance they finally talk like normal people.

The way it's told, through this kid's eyes, is very interesting, most especially because the kid's a writer, and is constantly writing. He especially likes to write letters to his father, of whom he's convinced his mother is hiding because she doesn't want him to see the guy. The ending also leaves you feeling as though you yourself learned something about life while watching too. It's different, yet uplifting nonetheless. One of the better byproducts of wasting cash to watch Starz on this shit-ass expensive cable, I'll tell you that.

So, that's all the movies for now. On another note, the Sunday El Nuevo Día's makeover isn't too shabby. I like the way they redesigned Negocios and Revista, my favorite parts of the newspaper. It's actually interesting to read now. I heard they have versions of this paper in the States, but I've never been too sure, not having set foot on American soil in about five years. Still, it's about time. I think they've had the same look since...since I moved here in '97 come to think of it.

Speaking of crappy cable...

THE best image my camera could capture of crappy digital cable. In other words, there was no cable this morning, and one channel was frozen on this image. Still makes me chuckle, which should make my current feeling of loneliness ease itself just a bit. Happy Sunday.

On loneliness, perceptions, and The Bride

2006-06-03T18:19:00.000-04:00

Watching Kill Bill always pisses me off. It's not because the film sucks or anything. It's one of my favorite films, actually. It just pisses me off because it's the kind of movie I'd love to act in. It's just weird and all action, and it seems to take place in this kind of alternate reality in which assassinating people from rival groups is perfectly okay (as is destroying hotel property). Sadly, I don't think more movies of its kind will be made soon. Well, I count Sin City. But Sin City's already made. And you see my point.

Anyway, I was looking at some old photos of myself, and they sure brought back memories. Some were good memories, some were bad memories, and some were just things that I've been desperately trying to hide for years. And I wondered: how do people see me nowadays, compared to how they saw me before? I'm honestly not the type to care about what others thing about me, but it's still a perplexing question. But, as to how I was before, all I have to go on would be my family, because I moved here almost nine years ago from Conneticut, and I'm no longer in contact with anyone I knew from there. And I can't stand the people I went to middle school with. But, I did talk to one from there last semester in Sagrado ('cause he decided to go study there too apparently), and I guess between then and now I am different, if only externally. 'Mazing what college does to make you care about your appearance, because I honestly didn't care about being girly before, and that did a 180 degree turn during all of last year.

But what about internally? I dunno, I think I might be the same still. Still just as aloof and weird and insane and absolutely twisted. Maybe it's how I interact with others that's changed, now that I think of it. My core personality's the same, but how you interact with people can make a world of difference. A smile here, a wave there, a "hey there" does a lot for how a person is perceived, even if on the inside you're a homicidal anti-Jesus maniac. It's easy to keep a pleasant social exterior. I suppose this is why perhaps only some people have ever really come in contact with what it is I'm really thinking. And I'd like to keep it that way, because my thoughts are my own, and not for public display.

But this got me thinking a little more. Why are we people so dependant on what others think of us? Why does it even matter? You want people to think of you in a certain way, so that's what you're going to work towards, but I have to wonder if it really matters in the end. We're also dependant on others for company, to keep us from feeling alone. We're born alone and we die alone, in our own heads. Yet, though I couldn't really give a fuck about what others think of me, I value the company of others at the same time. I value my friends, because they mean a lot to me. I value my significant other because he's stood by me, despite my twisted personality. People depend on others. On occasion, being dependant bothers me because I am an independant person, but it can't be helped, there's no getting around it. And, on the whole, I don't think it really matters in the end how we're perceived. What should matter more is how you perceive yourself, because at the end of the day, the one who kicks off their shoes, has sex with their lover, smokes that cigarette afterwards, and then looks at themselves in the bathroom mirror, is you.

On that note, anyone who fucks with me will be killed by me The Bride style. Well, I'd like to say that, but coming from me, that really doesn't sound very cool. And I don't have a sword...or martial arts training...and I haven't been screwed over by my lover. Yeah, there goes that out the window.

In other news: WWJD?

Click for larger image. I always knew Jesus liked vampire women. It's the hidden secret within a secret within a holy script that Da Vinci kept from us.

On appearances and the beach

2006-06-02T13:06:00.000-04:00

I think, ever since probably middle school, I've had the appearance of being what is called a "punk rocker". At first, I did it solely because the style intrigued me, and I liked it a lot. But, like all intelligent people who get into a subculture, this didn't stay the same for long, because I wanted to find out more about this subculture on the whole. And, living on a tropical island like Puerto Rico makes it harder, since so very few people here actually understand punk. I'm not going to count the kids who shop at Hot Topic, but more on that in a bit. But, hey, all I needed was some well-meaning pals in high school and the Internet, and thus, I discovered Bad Religion, one of the few current punk bands still in existance (Anti-Flag being another). From here, there was no turning back. I took one look at my nu-metal CDs, and I realized, damn, I sure wasted my time in middle school.

And so, I had the internet, and I looked up more bands and more music, and I expanded my taste as I found all these fantastic music around. But, the turning point has to be when I discovered The Flaming Lips. I can't possibly describe the effect their music had on me. It's psychadelic punk rock that's one long acid trip. Yoshimi Battles The Pink Robots is a CD that has to be listened to in one sitting, because otherwise, you're not going to get the whole experience. Soft Bulletin and Zaireeka are also excellent listens, and their latest, At War With The Mystics, is simply superb. These are guys who have twenty+ years of experience in music, and it shows. And in my eyes, they most definetely shine brighter than these manufactured, dime-a-dozen bands like Simple Plan and My Chemical Romance.

Now, back to the Hot Topic thing and dressing, I don't object to buying stuff there, because it's store, and they do sell some pretty cool stuff. Me being a HUGE Invader ZIM fan, I love the stuff they sell off that show there. But really now, $30 for a ripped up shirt with fishnets? I can easily take a pair of scissors, buy a similar shirt, cut it up, and sew fishents underneath. Why waste so much money on a product like this? Being punk isn't about looking cool or buying all your shit clothes at a specific store. You don't even have to look the part. The punk movement started as a rebellion, as a counter-culture to the clean and the perfection. It was about being an individual and going against the grain and saying, "well you know what, fuck you all, I want to do things my way". Buying clothes that look punk defeats that purpose because you're just blending in. Do I look the part? Yeah, sure. My hair has bright red highlights (as you can see here), I like Converse and fishnets and ripped-up jeans. But these things are things I make on my own or buy on the cheap at, say, a thrift shop. I like the look. But I'm also an independant person by nature, so I don't care about what others think, and I'm sure the smart kids, out of the Hot Topic crowd, will learn that sooner or later.

Anyway, summer is in full swing now. I honest to God need to take a trip to the beach on an afternoon. I love the beach, I love the ocean, and I love sunsets at the beach over the ocean. Plus, my tan's going away, so I need to soak up more sun.

Here's a pic of my desk though.

I know. It makes no sense. And I need a cigarette dammit.

On clarification and general contemplation

2006-06-01T13:12:00.000-04:00

Yeah, I figured that I should just clarify some stuff about myself.

I have no idea how old I sound in these entries. I've re-read them, and I think I sound over 23 years old. Well, I'm not. I'm 18. I'll be 19 next month (July). I guess I just sound older because I don't rely on net speak, and because my way of expressing myself is, on the whole, very cynical and sarcastic. Am I actually cynical and sarcastic? Yes and no. I am sarcastic, but that's been hardcore ingrained into my personality for God knows how long. I'm not actually cynical though. A little jaded maybe, but not cynical. True cynicism comes with age, when you've seen enough of the world to make a proper judgement on things.

Now, what exactly do I do in life? Good question. Well, I'm supposed to be a college student. Pa' los que son de Puerto Rico, soy estudiante de Sagrado, pero vivo en San Germán cuando no estoy por allá. And I'm going into my second year starting August, still as a Theater major, with plans to maybe get a minor in telecommunication. Uh, that's if I decide to finish college. In actuality, I want to drop out, move to the US (Chicago, specifically), and start working on becoming a famous actress, writer and rock star. Yes yes, college is important and this whole plan of mine could just fail completely. But you know what, that doesn't bother me, because I know I'm not going to fail. It'll take some years, but I'll reach the top, just you guys wait. If I don't? Well, at least I'll have tried, right? I'd rather try and fail than not try at all.

And finally, I'm sure you guys must've picked up on this already, but my views on religion and God are not exactly the norm. In general, I think most of my views would offend your average, church-abiding Christian. Don't get me wrong, I still believe in God. But on the whole, I don't really have faith in the church anymore. Why should a church dictate my faith anyway? If God is supposed to love all his kids, then why would he condemn them to hell for making mistakes? Also, this correlates to the fact that I think the ideas of good and evil are completely subjective, made up by us humans because we feel the need to regulate ourselves. Humans are all about survival, because we're still animals. We just have the capacity to actually realize when we fuck up. On the whole, I consider myself a modern-day existentialist. Existentialism as defined by Wikipedia:

Existentialism is a philosophical movement that is generally considered an outlook, or a perspective, on life that pursues the question of the meaning of life or the meaning of existence for the "existing individual". This question is seen as being of paramount importance, above all other scientific and philosophical pursuits. Existentialism also considers the psychological importance of existence and deals with concepts such as anxiety, dread, freedom, awareness of death, and consciousness of existing.

Whether it shows in my entries or not, human existence, its meaning, and all the things that tie it together are extremely important to me. In fact, I think that's why I started this particular blog in the first place. I wanted to be able to write out my thoughts on life and human existence as I see them, because these two things constantly perplex me. It's a never-ending quest of sorts. I might write a book about it someday, when I'm done with my current novel.

Speaking of, it's nearly done. I still need to write the very last part, and then revise the whole thing, and then figure out how to get it published. If you're interested, go take a look here. I'm still just a wannabe writer, since I have nothing published (asides a few poems in a few anthologies), but, just like with my acting and rock-star career, that'll change soon.

I'll write about myself as an actress in a future entry perhaps. For now, go watch the music video for Girl Anachronism by The Dresden Dolls. Amanda Palmer has issues, and she fucking knows it. So I leave you all with that. Meanwhile, I'll be taking a look at other blogs, to see if I can find some good reads. Cheers!

On friendship and priests

2006-05-31T15:47:00.000-04:00

I can't quite recall if this was yesterday or today, but I was watching Despierta América on Univisión. I'm gonna take a wild guess and say that this was yesterday, because there's no way I'd watch Univisión voluntarily (and, as we all know, the channels they put in the TVs of doctors' offices usually sucks). Anyway, the topic was, can members of the opposite sex stay soley friends, or is it usually impossible?

Okay, let's take this apart piece by piece, shall we? First of all, I had no idea that I, as a member of the female sex, was supposed to be sexually and physically attracted to every single member of the male sex. I mean, I don't find pretty boys (pretty boys like Tidus, from FFX) attractive, or jocks (again, Tidus), or overly metrosexual men (well hello again Tidus). Does this mean something's wrong with me? No, it just means that not everyone of the male gender is attractive in my eyes, just like I'm not attractive in all guys' eyes. Though this might be due to the fact that not all guys are straight (geeze, using you as an example is getting old, Tidus). I am attracted to this guy...but then again, I'm also dating this guy. Hmm, whaddya know.

Next, I also had no idea that maintaining a friendship with a guy was supposed to be difficult. I guess I've been under the impression that I'm supposed to jump on every guy who strikes conversations with me, or that I'm supposed to fall madly in love with every guy I have casual sex with. Maybe that's what's wrong. I'm not supposed to see guys as people, I'm supposed to see them as potential husbands/boyfriends/sex toys, silly me. I guess I'll just have to stick with girls for friends and vibrators for pleasure. Or would that make me lesbian? Cue Strange Girl, courtesy of DC Comics. Piece of advice: having friends of the opposite sex is sometimes a lot better, because they give you insight that you don't get with your same sex friends. Just a thought.

Then again, maybe I speak from my own experience. Ever since I was about four, I've had plenty of friends who were guys. My first best friend was a guy. And guys in general were a lot cooler. They had better toys, better cartoons, and they liked to play fun games. Girls were too...ngh, in my eyes. I suppose this is the advantage to being a tomboy. And this is also the advantage of not being a girl who falls for every damn guy that comes my way. Because I can see guys as people, like we're supposed to. Guys, just like us girls, like to be treated as people. If they don't, then they're not worth the time.

Also, I'm not saying that there shouldn't be slight attraction with your opposite sex friends. If you're straight, it's only natural. There's a reason you have them as friends in the first place. This might be because they're funny, intelligent, good in bed, anything. Remember this guy from up there? I think it'd be around this month that we've known each other for two years, and also more or less around this month that we started being good friends. We actually hated each other at first, but that's because he's an egotistical jerk and he thought I was stupid. Then I figured out not to take him seriously, and he figured out I had a brain in my skull. And we also had quite a bit in common. So, even though he was one of my best friends, we found each other attractive, until we finally stopped beating around the bush and decided to date. Even if we break up though, we'll still be friends, because we took the time to get to know each other. Plus, he's pretty awesome when he's not being a manipulative fuck.

Moral of the story: members of the opposite sex can make awesome friends ~~with benefits~~. If, after some time, you find them attractive enough to ~~fuck~~ date, then go for it, what do you have to lose? A friend? If anything, dating them might just make your friendship stronger, even if at the end it doesn't work out romantically.

On a sidenote, my oldest cousin on mom's side (cousin cousin, not second or third cousin or anything) was thrown out of his seminary in Dominican Republic, meaning that he's no longer going to become a priest. And the whole family's in an uproar. There hasn't been this much commotion since my uncle (mom's older brother) left my aunt for a younger woman. Y'know, I don't want to mention this, because mom's been on edge lately, but I'm getting the feeling that he got caught having sex with another guy over at the seminary, thus the real reason he was thrown out.

...I'm going to burn in hell for writing that, aren't I?

Anyway, enjoy this picture of a cat. Techincally, she belongs to my family, but she's actually the neighbors'.

On doctor's offices and self-esteem

2006-05-30T12:51:00.000-04:00

So, I was at my endocrinologist's today. Now, before I can get into that properly, let me clarify something about Puerto Rico's wonderful (that's sarcasm) doctors. See, your appointment's at, say, 10am. No, don't be there an hour early. Or two hours early. No, you have to be there at 4-fucking-am most of the time, and even then, you'll be out of the damn cubicle space by 3 in the afternoon (but only if you're lucky or if you know the doctor). Because, see, doctors here don't care about patients and their damn health. They'll take forty...fourty...well, however it's spelled, they'll take a ton of patients every single day, they'll come in the office at midday, and the last patient leaves at 10pm. All they care about is filling their pockets with more cash than they can carry, just to be able to pay off that mansion and that Lincoln Navigator they bought. Oh, and any student loans too.

But see, the whole waiting process in the office is an entire subculture on its own. First, it's this scramble to get there before anyone else is there, so you can camp out in the car beforehand. Then, if you're not in the first five, you gotta stand outside the office, watching those smug faces, and make idle chatter about politics and the weather. Mostly politics. Well, this is if you're below the age of 45. If not, you'll be talking with the other old people. And this is the funny part, because from here on out, it's all an elaborate competition to see who's health is more fucked. In fact, let's put out an example here:

Old lady #1: Well, I'm here because my thyroids are as swollen as my husband's balls used to be and they might explode.

Old lady #2: Oh, that's terrible. I dunno, I've been this close to getting a heart attack, and the doctor's doing all she can to make sure I can avoid it.

OL #1: Really? Goodness, I had two heart attacks last year. Family's always had a bad heart, see.

OL #3: Hey, well, I'm having a heart attack now, beat that.

Notice how all of this also plays out as though we're all stuck in jail and they're comparing who commited the worst crime (between, say, bombing an abortion clinic versus assassinating JFK). Ladies, get over it. You're all about to drop dead anyway, what's the deal in comparing who's health is worse? If you're going to waste your breath on that, why are you still even standing?

So, back to the main thing. Finally, at around 8am, the secretary arrives, and we all file in and we fill out any medical papers and whatnot. Note that the time a secretary arrives will vary slightly from office to office. And then, the waiting game starts. And of course, mad predictions about what time the doctor might come in. Thankfully, this endocrinologist is actually quite punctual, and comes in at 9:30am, and starts taking patients at 9:30am. This one eye doctor I went to years ago though...well, I was finally free at around 4pm.

And then, the kicker of it all: as patients are done with their appointment and pay and whatnot, as they're going out, they say "que salgan pronto", which translates to "hope you fuckers have a horrible time waiting longer, but I don't give a fuck 'cause I'm fucking out of here!" You know what? Don't tell me "que salgas pronto", because you don't fucking care. You're done. The doctor's done checking you up, she's done telling you that you have acute pancreatis and that your pancreas will explode tomorrow. The rest of us aren't done though. We still have to sit here and fucking wait.

Well, in retrospect, I got called in at...10am I think. I don't remember because I lose track of time when I haven't had enough time to sleep. So, I'd like to take a moment to compare my self-esteem to a sand castle. I spend all day at the beach building it up, part by part, layer over layer. I finish, I stand back, and I look at my masterpiece, like a proud parent. And then a wave comes in and washes it away. In other words, my self-esteem is a sand castle. Or sand, whichever. Well, I did decide last month that I'd start taking better care of myself, so it's not like there'd be immediate results in this appointment. But I gained thirteen fucking pounds. I'm fucking fat now.

Just a note guys: I'm not actually fat. I look pretty damn good actually. Here's a picture.

Anyway, I'm not quite done with superheroe pictures yet, so here's another!

Click for larger image. Bat and Rob sure are going places, eh folks?

On one last note, it seems I have a slightly larger audience (from zero to maybe four). I hope I can keep on entertaining.

On Link and video games

2006-05-29T18:06:00.000-04:00

You know that a game still has lasting appeal when, eight years after its initial release (has so much time gone by?), you're still willing to pick it up and play through the whole thing again. I don't usually feel that way about games. Actually, what I feel towards them is akin to what I feel towards ex-boyfriends: you dumped them, they dumped you, end of story, and no, I don't want to have casual sex with you, get out of my face. But it's not that way with the Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time. No, Ocarina of Time is the game that keeps on giving. It's like that boy-next-door who's still waiting around for you, even though you've been out dating other guys. When the show's over, you go back to him, and he's still there waiting. Of course, he pisses you off on occasion, just like Peter Parker pissed off Mary Jane, and just like the Water Temple in Ocarina of Time is currently pissing me off. What developer on crack designed that dungeon? This is, like, the eight time I've played and I still get lost.

But playing this eight-year-old Zelda game has got me thinking about the video game industry on the whole. I am one of those people who thinks that the industry right now is both simultaneously sad and pathetic, but I'm not going to start prattling on and on about how awesome the "good ol' days" were. And that's because, looking back ten and fifteen years ago, nothing has changed. It's still the same gawd-awful propaganda designed to get people to buy their plastic boxes that're capable of playing certain games. You know what's even more sad and pathetic? The fact that what also hasn't changed, even after all this time, is the existence of fanboys. The ones that spend their time passionately defending their console because it pwns j00rz, when really, each and every console serves the exact same purpose: to entertain.

The industry isn't stupid though. They know that they've got these ready-made propagandists, who're willing to do the promoting for them, and what's even better is that the industry doesn't have to pay these fanboys a single dime, because they're doing it both willingly and for free. It's not like that Gamestop or EBGames employee, that they're paid to shove the Xbox 360 and a bunch of mediocre games into your face, simply because they can't get rid of the surplus of said games. It's a living, and they've gotta bring food on their tables somehow. Yet the fanboys, who worship their console/company/game as if it were Jesus resurrected himself, are willing to spend their time, and waste their breath and your time, promoting what they think is the best.

Reality check: that Playstation 2 you love? That Halo 2 online campaign you think is fucking rad? That Miyamoto or Kojima you think is smarter than Einstein? First, that PS2 is nothing but a bunch of technological parts screwed together under a cheap plastic cover. That Halo 2 game is nothing but a bunch of code designed to make two armored soldiers pop up and kill each other. And Miyamoto and Kojima, though smart as they might be, are just regular people looking to keep earning their pay checks by designing the games that will continued to be worshipped to no end. In other words, that whole "console war" shit and all those debates between fanboys is meaningless and a waste of time, because in the end, it's all about these companies making money. They care about your feelings to the extent of getting feedback to make their games better (and that only applies to some companies, because others just don't give a rat's ass). They don't care about anything except filling their tubs with more money.

So then, what should gaming be about? Oh, I don't know, how about entertainment? How about having an awesome time shooting your teammates to death on Halo 2 or that sense of pure accomplishment when you finally figure out (again) how to get through the Water Temple in Ocarina of Time? Just buy the console that happens to play the games you like most, and leave it at that. Because, unless someone asks for it, no one cares about what you think about PS3 vs. Xbox 360. Anyway, I'm sure I'll finish the Water Temple sometime tonight. I've been stuck in that godforsaken place for over two days now, and I'm about to break the game.

Anyway, I'd like to apologize to you all, but no fruit pictures today. Right after I get that "brilliant" idea yesterday, all fruit in the house mysteriously disappears. So instead, here's what I had for dinner:

It was quite tasty. Admire the effort put into it to make the finest dinner this side of a fast food restaurant.

And, to make amends for any disappointment caused by lack of fruit, here's some food for thought. Click to see larger image.

Make of this what you will, but it's solid proof that firemen have a thing for pole-dancing superheroes.

On blogging (again) and Juggernaut

2006-05-28T14:46:00.000-04:00

"I'm the Juggernaut bitch!"

I just had to get that out of the way folks, sorry about that.

Anyway, here's an excerpt from today's El Nuevo Día (the link of said newspaper's website being here):

Blogger (http://www.blogger.com) es un buen comienzo. Este popluar servicio de Google nos lleva paso por paso, desde escoger un nombre para nuestro diario virtual, hasta varias herramientas que haran que nuestro blog sea visto y comentado por otras personas. Si se nos va la mente en blanco, fácil!, podemos dar una miradita a lo que otras personas han hecho. Trata de ser original, ya que es algo que buscan los blogentusiastas.

Por José Hernández Falcón

And the translation:

Blogger (http://www.blogger.com) is a good start. This popular service from Google takes us step by step, from choosing a name for our virtual diary, to various tools so your blog can be seen and commented on by other people. If your mind goes blank, easy, just take a look at what other people have done. Try to be original, since this is something blog enthusiasts look for.

Now, I'm sure Mr. Hernández is a very fine, very respectable journalist of high calibur. But well, I just have to wonder now, about this line:

"Try to be original, since this is something blog enthusiasts look for."

So, looking at my three previous posts, I've finally figured it out, why no one's commented on my wonderful pieces of high-calibur writing. It's because I haven't been original enough. Jesus, this must be the millionth and one blog that deals with rants and music, of course! Silly me! I should've sat down and decided to take the road less taken. Why, my blog should be a photoblog...a photoblog of...fruits! That's it!

Alright now, this is now a photoblog about fruits.

I think the image speaks for itself. Admire the fruit. Become the fruit. The watermelon compels you to comment on its succulent flavor and its rosy complection the same way Jennifer Lopez would if you had her in a room to yourself.

Please. That's worse than a blog about rants and music.

Speaking of music, I think I'll waste some more space here listing my top ten bands.

1. The Flaming Lips
2. Bright Eyes
3. Bad Religion
4. The Ramones
5. Saosin
6. The Dresden Dolls
7. Nirvana
8. The Clash
9. New York Dolls
10. Green Day

It's an odd list, I think. I mean, look at my #1 and compare it to my #10. Then again, no one touches The Flaming Lips and their awesomeness. I'm dead serious, they are one of the best biker pirates you'll ever meet in this lifetime, mostly because there won't be any biker pirates in the next life. The biker pirate species will be extinct and dead and there won't be anyone around ready to wage war against the boring and the mundane. The same thing could be applied to The Dresden Dolls. I fully believe they've sparked a new movement, and it's called punk cabaret. But thirty years from now, it'll be just like the punk movement all over again, with some variation of Hot Topic selling punk cabaret merchandise at insane prices. Well, at least they still sell The Ramones T-Shirts.

So, you all expected a review on X-men 3, right? Too bad, but hey, I'm sure there are plenty of unoriginal blogs floating around that've already done the exact same thing.

On Murphy's Law and Latina mothers

2006-05-27T14:13:00.000-04:00

Mom: Well hell, Hugh Jackman can scratch me with his claws any day.

Me: ...

Mom: Did-did I say that out loud?

Me: ... (moves a few seats away)

Mom: Oh come on, he's a hot art teacher. [This being a reference to X-men 2.]

So, what was the point of me presenting this small tidbit to you all? Well, I just wanted to use an exhibit for the creatures known as Latina mothers, because they really are a breed all on their own. Latina mothers present a host of different behaviors and qualities, but I think it's safe to say that said qualities can be roughly divided into two categories. The first category would be the side I just displayed: the funny, loving, sometimes quirky yet always amiable side. For more examples on this side, please see Absolutely Fabulous. This side is the one that makes these mothers act more like they're in their early 20's than anything else. Brad Pitt and Hugh Jackman are their idols. They don't want to do the cooking and cleaning, they don't want to be responsible mothers, and they sure as hell don't want to be seen as (gasp) older than their own children. It's all about having fun, making jokes, and making their families wish that the earth would swallow them alive.

The other category, however, is the vindictive, moody, I-am-the-queen-so-stfu side. Example:

Mom: Are those clothes clean or what?

Me: Some are, some aren't. I'll put the dirty stuff to wash tomorrow.

Mom: But why didn't you put them to wash today?

Me: It's 10pm Mom, I think it can wait.

Mom: Jesus Christ, what am I going to do with you? You've got a bed full of dirty clothes and you waited till now to tell me!

Me: Uh, all that's there are two shirts, jeans and socks. And I just got home. And you were the one who walked in here asking.

Mom: (starts going on and on about how irresponsible her children are, all the while ignoring the ironing that's been past expiration date for several months now)

Yes folks, this is the feared side. This is the side that lashes out at the slightest provocation. This is the side that flares up because there's a sock on the floor that just fell down there a few seconds ago. This is the side that is stubborn and that declares itself center of the universe. I think this could also apply for Caucasian mothers, only for them it's known as PMS. For Latina mothers, this is present half the time (since the other half of the time we have the teenager in a middle-aged woman's body). Everything's too much for her, her family doesn't care about her or pay attention to her, and absolutely no one except the dogs respects her. In truth, she's probably sitting on the couch watching Lifetime all day, while her husband's at work and while her son and daughter are out getting college degrees.

So then I wonder, why the duality? Why do Latina mothers have to be so bipolar? I don't know about the sons of Latina mothers because I'm not a boy, but when it comes to girls, there are these standards that we must fulfill in order to be perfect in our mother's eyes. We have to finish high school and get a bachellor and master's degree at college. Then we have to launch a successful career (preferably in medicine or business, because more money is earned). Then, we should be married by our late 20s, start a family, have a house, and then, with all the money we earn, we then have to take care of our poor old mothers until they drop dead on the ground. But don't forget, just because we're now liberal enough to have well-paying jobs and be at the top of the world, we have to get married and have families. We're absolutely not allowed to flirt, to stay out late because of rapists, to drink or smoke or have fun, or anything else our male siblings indulge in, because we're still women. Woe be me if I bring home a boyfriend, but my brother goes through four girlfriends in three months, it's perfectly alright.

I think the duality, then, just comes from the fact that we absolutely must surpass the previous generation and earn tons of money to support the entire family, because anything less would be complete and total failure. I suppose that's why I'm the family's deadbeat, since I drink, smoke, party late at night, and I'm studying theater to become an actress (not a doctor or a business woman). Sure, I'm doing what makes me happy, but it's not what makes Mom or the family happy, ergo I am a legitimate failure.

But, then again, I suppose that's alright, because what goes around comes around, just like today. My mother and I were sitting in the theater, ready to watch the third X-men film, and bam, the electricity goes out. And so, while my mother is probably condemned to never have her Hugh Jackman claw scratching fantasies fulfilled, I on the other hand will be back at the movie theater later tonight, ready to watch the movie with a bunch of equally good-for-nothing friends and buddies.

Oh Murphy, what a cruel person you must've been, but thank you for ruling in my favor today.