Thursday, December 13, 2007

You Better Put Some Water On That Damn Shit

After returning home from a mini road trip to Indiana this eve, I was looking forward to a good ol' bowl of Kashi and some Trader Joe's gluten free granola topped off with some organic oat milk. The reminder did not kick in about having less than a 1/4 cup of the milk, so I had to put some water on it. I've never done that before. I usually would opt out of the cereal, but I forged ahead tonight because I wanted that bowl of cereal. The experience is not unlike what I did tonight. Up until yesterday I thought I was seeing someone. As I was hanging out with the dude and his friend tonight and the whole night his friend kept asking me for my number right in front of (who I thought was) MY dude. When the dude and I were leaving I finally spoke up and told him that I liked him and was wondering what the fuck was up and he shot me down because we are co-workers (so he says). A friend from college asked me one time how a dude could hang out with me as much as he did and not be madly in love with me. Who fucking knows? So what did I do with my fire, I had to put some water on that damn shit.

Wednesday, November 07, 2007


It is rare that I wear a skirt, let alone a short skirt, but I wore a skort (skirt over shorts) with black tights and tall black wedge boots the other day and received more compliments than I can remember ever receiving for one outfit. Having trouble with compliments almost grounded me to my desk, but I had so much running around to do that I couldn't avoid the comments. Most were complimentary no matter the hard time they gave me, but others were not vocal , more like, "How/Why is she wearing that?!". One man in particular caught my fancy as I was going to get lunch. A beggar of sorts just about screams at me, "Damn Guuurrrrrl, you got some nice fat knees!!" Indeed I do, sir. Indeed I do. Thanks.

Sunday, October 28, 2007


Blood ran from her wrists as though she had three hearts pumping in her chest. Amazing she didn't die from the impact or the initial loss of blood cells and platelets. It happened so many times before she couldn't even count how many had made some scar on her being. Happens every fucking time. The blood pooled around her left foot and she started to make circles with the liquid until organically it turned into figure 8s and that got her thinking of the future. Though her wrists bled so hard her veins were twitching, she was able to pick herself up and get to the phone to call all of the trespassers. The trespassers and violators. Her hearts hurt as each number was pushed on the telephone. Whose phone you ask? Who knows and she did not care after the evening she had and the night had only just begun. The location of where she had been left was unknown and last on her mind as she kept dialing those numbers of the ones who hurt, abused, and took advantage of her so many times before this night of everlasting destruction. Blood spewed from her veins as she squealed and hissed into the phones of those that knew the guilt of the jobs they did on her and her body. The liquids. the liquids

Of course some numbers had changed and she continued to yell at the sorry unknowing soul on the other end. Most of those listened because she was crazed and articulate. Blood began to spew from her mouth as she neared the end of her list and the figure 8s turned into streaks of strength removing itself from her legs and torso. Her head was heavy enough to clamp the receiver with her shoulder. Her right hand never left the keypad, she duct taped it to the base so the slippery blood would not keep her from dialing. This was the time for all to be said and done. Her hearts were broken. She had no more to give except a instruction on life, participation, and humanity. She regrets not being a lesbian since those men never respected her like any of her female friends, straight or gay, but then again, she gave up the women that stole men from her and she picked up woman who value friendship and love. She misses them already, but not for long as the pigment moves from her face and the receiver drops from her shoulder to the floor with an incredible display of destruction. She forgets what her last thought was and passes out only to come crashing to the floor stabbing her eye with a sharp edge of the broken receiver. Her head throbbed for a few seconds until she realized it was time to let go. It was time to just let go. Gotta go. So let go.

Thursday, October 25, 2007


Love is a many splendored gay thing. I love "LOVE", but have had little to no "butterflies" or "sweeping off my feet" until more recently. Girlfriend, here is not one for commitment with almost anything in a good while, but something good is a foot and here's hoping it will be positve, delightful, and delovely. Thanks for listening.

Friday, October 12, 2007

The Choice of My Heart

Why oh, fucking why do men rule my heart and waste my brain? They make me dizzy and the spinning is making me cry. (The man mentioned in the last post is the same as the one mentioned here. ) A phone call tonight from my long distance boyfriend (I wish) of 6, almost 7 years. He lives in DC and has only visited once (2006) and was violently allergic to my cat making the visit a wee bit uncomfortable. We met while I was stage managing a show in Richmond, Va and I cried very hard uncontrollably in front of him during our last encounter before moving to Chicago. I had apparently fallen in love with him. Drama was one thing I did not intend to bring to our table. He wanted me to be friends with benefits and that was cool, but it wasn't just a one night stand and it wasn't like I would go over to his place and leave when he was done with me (although my insecurity would lead me to believe just that). He cooked dinner and we watched some Seinfeld or Jeopardy and then do it. Or I would drive him to the train and we would hit it in the AMTRAK parking lot at 3am on a random Tues. In the dressing room (scandalous!) and on the way to a cast party (shocking). Graphically enough, the only man to ever work hard enough to make me cum without my help. He invoked a sexual demon that I can't quiet, but am forced to stifle to help with my self esteem. He also lit up my sweet spot for the brothers and I ain't talking about incest. I have spoken of this lad before and just two days ago, I was trying to let him go from my brain since my last trip east was once again lacking a hit of that and he was supposed to call me when he was free, but that was two weeks ago. Just as he had faded from my brain for the first time in 6 fucking years, he had to text tonight and I had to text back, and then he had to call. But for the record, we did not have phone sex and we never have. We talked about (mostly) his work and professional life in DC and the bs he has to deal with on a daily basis. In a previous post whether here or MySpace I mentioned that if he asked me to marry him I would and tonight after hearing that I am pursuing work to help the environment, he asked if I was going to marry Al Gore. He fumbled at first and all I heard was "" I almost peed my pants. Fucker.

Monday, September 24, 2007


On Thursday night I embark on my trip east for the Family gathering in Annapolis, MD. I'm half looking forward, partially nervous, and partially not looking forward to this trip. The good part is that I get to drive halfway across this great continent which is always a treat for me and I get to see my family that I haven't seen since last winter. The annoying part is having to see my family because there will be about 20 of us trying to fit in one medium sized house and that is no vacation considering I am driving 17 hrs to get to the place, but I am going to have a great time. It has been writing that this will be a great trip. In addition to the trip, I am looking to see an old friend that gives me great pleasure. He is someone that I think of daily. Daily. There are only a handful of people that I think of daily and he happens to be the most thought of man in my head. Unfortunately, he lives in DC and he is allergic to cats, my Chubbs in particular.
He called me at work today. Now mind you, only about 5 of my closest friends have my work number and only 2 of them call me, but to see that 202 prefix come across my display, I got just a wee bit excited even though I was not 100% that it was him calling. Delightfully, it was he and seemed just as excited to talk to me as I to him. Not only has my day been made, but quite possibly, my week, too. He is an incredible human being and I am touched and honored that he would take the time to contact me and to even mention checking his schedule to squeeze me in for a visit. If the world was ideal, and he asked me to marry him today, I would graciously accept even though I don't believe he would be faithful. Oh what a tangled, delightful, and notorious web we weave. Thank you, RC, for making my day that much brighter, for changing my life, and even more for being an amazingly wonderful man who thinks of me more often than I could have even dreamed.

Sunday, September 02, 2007

First Time For Everything

Today was a day for a lovely walk to my delightful weekly voice lessons. Afterwards I took a walk in search of a telephone line adapter and instead of hopping into the car to CVS I decide to go to my local dollar store, but no such luck. Of course that didn't stop me from spending $8 on random kitchen and office supplies. Before going to the dollar store, I stopped in a market to use the ATM since the dollar store is a cash only establishment. I got a lemon flavored water and some gum to break the $20 and the owner guy was chatting with me and rubbed his upper chest asking if "This was ok?" and he had to repeat it 3 times before I just was like "It's ok", but still not understanding him. Upon leaving the store, I looked down to find my shirt wide open and my bra all showing. Ah, I see what "this" is now. Today was also a music day. I have less funds for entertainment these days and so the music and movie collection is on a 10 yr slow, but today I bought some music. David Bowie, Changes. Bob Marley & the Wailers Legend. The Very Best of Curtis Mayfield and Femi Kuti, Shoki, Shoki. I've been a stoner for over a decade now and today I bought my first Bob Marley album. Still don't own any Dead or Phish. I will more than likely stay this way, no offense to those guys, but I rather hang with the brothers than stinky whitey and his dreads. I did meet a delightful co-ownership (maybe dating, too) couple that runs the only non-latino record store within several miles. They kept a store cat that loves boxes much like Chubbs, mi gato. Their names were Lance and Liz and the record store is Permanent Records. Check them out!

Sunday, August 26, 2007

Cubs Buddies

To go from being a Yankees fan almost by default, transplant to Chicago and become a White Sox fan, not a Cubs fan, baffles some and impresses others. In all of it, managing to keep both Cubs and Sox fans as friends has not been too difficult and thank you for it. On some occasions, the word "hate" will make its way from my face in front of "Cubs", but baseball is such a highlight in this often unbelievably retarded world. I was prithee to see Kurt Schilling pitch against the White Sox at US Cellular Field on the Southside of Chicago last eve and it didn't even matter that my Sox lost. Partly because they are pretty much just balls out sucking and partly because I was on a quasi date with an co-worker buddy's son and we went to the game. It was cute, but I think I have hangups about younger men. Mostly due to the overwhelming issue of self esteem I hold onto and just the observance of the fierce competition presented by the most whorish display of youth. i.e. I feel like an old fart. It is cool, but funny when my mother mentioned just the other day that I would do better with an older man. I agree, but it would be fun to play with a younger one for a little while. Maybe teach him a few things. We'll leave that open.

So initially this post was supposed to happen just over a month ago in response to another delightful evening with Cubs fans. It was a birthday gathering for an old friend's wife. It is nice to have the familiar with the relatively new life intertwined and the good thing about them is they don't carry any baggage. Even cooler is the pride that we have for our teams, but have no animosity towards each other or it is totally in jest. Both teams in the same city living on opposite ends of MLB.

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

Good Grief

Oh how time flies. Pardon the interruption. Things is good. Things is bad. Things are always growing and changing. Sometimes it is incredibly difficult to swallow. Speaking of, I haven't swallowed cum and enjoyed it in ages! That's a segway for the sake of segways. After pretty much shutting down for two years over the death of my best friend, I have finally returned to the social. The thing that has changed most is the lack of drinking situations I allow myself to encounter. Most people in this town are drinkers and unfortunately, I just am not and have been that way my whole life. I have completely accepted it, but it somehow enables peer pressure stronger than any other I ever experienced in grade school or otherwise. In college even when some nights I just didn't, it was asked once and not brought up again. When I go home to visit my mother (or any family member) that is just about the second thing she asks, "Can I gitcha a beeah?" (Long Island accent, not hillbilly). It almost breaks my heart to tell her, "No, thank you," and she is almost offended or doesn't believe that I don't drink on a regular basis like the rest of the clan. Honestly, if I didn't feel so self righteous sometimes around my family, I might visit them more often, but one must keep their egos in check. Not that I think I am great, for in fact, I learned to be self righteous from them. A word in edgewise was something I rarely granted and still to this day, of say an hour of phone time, I got about 4 blips interspersed throughout the convo. My sister is great, and granted she knows this already which makes her even cooler, but the girl gots some stories and she do talk a whole fucking lot. When any of my family members get drunk, I have no chance which may be one reason for the cannabis on my part. I could honestly droll on about the many reasons why alcohol should keep as a pain killer and the many shitstorms I have witnessed for the wear not to mention the lack of faith and trust in friends during the drunkest night of my life, but we will move forward.

Focus using alcohol as an over the counter med. Tax it more per shelf. In some ways I feel that way about pot and mushrooms as well. The natural aspect of medicating is provided in these devices. This is not a platform to preach, and I ain't no GD bible beatin' Christian. Far from. I realized I sent my dad two emails or FWs as per usual with pictures depicting drunks and the retarded things people do when inebriated, and note that this is a guy about to light a firework. This is the least graphic of the pic series. If you want more, let me know.
The other email entered in on family and culture.

The picture (that won't load for some reason) is Ireland after the most recent flooding or so that's what the caption indicated. It shows a bunch of Irishmen standing at an outside bar drinking with their pants pulled up in a foot of water. It didn't occur to me until tonight that these pics may have been offensive to my father. It was not intentional, but somehow they came one after another. He had no personal response, only more forwards that I have no time to read. He is such a good guy. It is really sad that it did not work out between he and my Mom. Oh, the unforch.

Thursday, July 19, 2007


In the movie 61 (great film), there are many scenes with the shots of Yankee Stadium filled to the brim during those days and it just is amazing that there are still that many people if not millions more attending baseball games at the same time. People have got to slow down on having the babies. No wonder the Pope doesn't believe in birth control. Catholics must populate!! Populate like scary ass muthah fuckin' bunnies. I am amazed at the amount of children that people have and then decide to go out with them all at once, all the time. That would drive me fucking crazy. OMG. Totally amazing and patient. I walked home from the train tonight which is just over a mile and along the way is always interesting neighborhood activity and very diverse mixes of people most of which run with their own kind in packs or couples and the frequent drunk or beggar. It never ceases to amaze me the lackadaisical approach to parenting some cultures exercise when crossing the street. Call me overprotective, but when crossing the street with both parents, more than 3 in tow and all under 7, you might want to carry a couple, not drag them across the street slowly, letting them drop whatever is in their hands then everyone stopping in the GD street and not looking first to see if there was a car on its way before all stopping to watch the 1 yr old pick up whatever it is she dropped. Good run on. It popped another lightbulb in my head about my feelings on parenting and birthing my own kids. Adoption is the only option right now. Though I am not afraid of going to term with my own kids has nothing to do with fear of that, but understanding in the fact that millions of children are without parents now and who knows how fast that number will grow. I just wish people would stop to think of the consequences for having children and why can't your husband pull his dick out before he plants it? These are just some of the many questions I think about frequently. I don't like Western medicine and though I take BC, that is the only regular prescription med that I take and hope to keep it that way for a while. Just remember for some health care insurances Viagra is covered, but not birth control pills.

Monday, June 25, 2007

Annoyance, Retribution, and a Smack in da Face

After an ok day at work, I thought a small load of laundry would be enough to get me through to the week end. Now mind you, part of the beauty of living in this wonderful apt is the fact that laundry is included. I can use the facilities without quarters and provided none of the other tenants are using them (1 washer, 1 dryer). As long as I don't have to worry about lugging my shit out of the apt and/or having to have quarters or any kind of $$$, I am otay. Well, about 6 months ago our landlord bought a new high efficiency machine because the previous one blew up with over and improper use by my famously loud stepping neighbors. Good job, Hooker. Well, today I go to use the washer and there is still water in there and knowing that isn't right, but thought that it just didn't drain properly so I turn it on and the property manager hears me (she lives on the floor above the basement) and yells down to me that it is broken. I ask her if she's serious as I am coming up the stairs and she says, "Yeah, that fucking bitch upstairs crams the thing full." OMG. I almost hugged her had she not just been in her bra and skirt. She's a precious woman, don't get me wrong. The loud ass neighbor upstairs and her boyfriend seem to do their laundry all in one load. Now, granted this girl is tiny and could probably fit all her thongs, bras, and anything else in her wardrobe in one load, but she tries to add her oaf of a boyfriend's stuff, too and done broke the damn new washer. So I had a lovely temper tantrum which wouldn't have happened if someone was just using the thing, but having the whole thing down inconveniences the whole building. I was cussing at her from my apartment again and I rarely do that anymore, but it felt good up until I could feel it become negative and not adrenaline. So I cool off and talk to a good buddy and focus attention on more positive things. After we get off the phone I decide to go to Sunflower after all because I have no food for lunch and it is just cheaper to not buy my lunch every day. On my way out to the car I made an effort to take the shoes for Goodwill/ Salvation Army and the 2 yr old Tidy Cat containers that I had been hoping to recycle as plant potters and put them in the car. Well in doing so, I locked my keys in my trunk. Boo. I don't have a spare. State Farm doesn't call the business for you and then they might reimburse you after the service is rendered if they want to reimburse you. So I called AAA and reinstated my membership which is a terrific service. Dynamic service. I shall wait for them to rescue my keys from the trunk. Karma does remind you to keep yourself in check. If someone offers you joy, enjoy it, don't exploit it.

Friday, June 08, 2007

If They Had Any Fucking Brains

they would not incarcerate these people. A dime bag for fuck's sack. Aside from the whole fucking Paris Hilton thing, you have this bullshit that should never have happened. Why are we still prosecuting people that are harmless? WTF? Why do I feel the need to not only kick random ass, but to roll fatties and light 'em up in public? Rebellion never hit me in college. It's hitting me now.

Education is our only hope. Education on everything. If we don't educate ourselves on everything when it is presented to us, we miss so much. Especially education about drugs and alcohol consumption. Drugs are a problem, but marijuana is a not one of those drugs, it is a resource. A resource not only for health and recreation, but for material that comes in so many different forms including, but not limited to food, clothing and paper. Pot may be a gateway drug, but if you educate yourself and your children on drugs, they will be able to see the difference between crack and pot. Educate. Pot is less of a problem than alcohol consumption in my hippie opinion. You don't have to smoke it. You can eat it, too. It can make the finest cookies you have ever tasted and that's before the effects even kick in.

Tuesday, June 05, 2007

Still Present,,2083762,00.html

Aren't there laws against inbreeding? And people with a dime bag are continuously going to jail? But Betty Sue and Leroy Macadung can have as many retarded children as they can squeeze out and beat as they want? Did not the Civil Rights Movement happen decades ago? I like rhetorical questions in blogs. Has anyone informed Old Man Whitey that he is on his way to extinction? That soon he and his sister/wife will be minorities and their children will have to keep up the family's mental incapacity only to get killed by crafty minorities? Sometimes I just don't like white people. Namely those that tend to live in the South. Hence my migration to the Midwest. No offense to my friends that still find themselves in the South or in some cases purposely moved further South because they like it or something.

What's even crazier is that I went to college in this town.

and in many cases, I prefer the chocolate mens to the ivory.

In an somewhat related story, a comedian acquaintance (worked with him at Chuggers in Richmond, VA with 9:55 Club) has made his mark on Fox News. He likes himself a bit, but he at least was able to get in some digs and he's pretty funny.

Wednesday, May 23, 2007


In an email to my good buddy Wayne:
Last night at Phyllis' Musical Inn and after my horrific set I normally only hit two beers, but I had three and half a cup of water:

About 9:05 when comedians were still performing the bartender/bar owner turned off the Sox game which was in the bottom of the 8th to watch the Cubs game that just started, so I got pissed and stormed out instead of trying to plead my lone Sox status. Mind you I am buzzed and pissed as I walk down the street and I see a cop trying to get into someone's place for whatever reason, but I was thinking, "Oooooh somebody's getting a noise complaint" and I rounded the corner and got into my car. Watching a car on the other side of the street pull out, I decide to flip a bitch to get back to Wood and I was a little pedal heavy when I did it and as I noticed there was no stop sign, I noticed a cop in the middle of the road with his hand out to make me stop. He stares at the front of my car and I'm thinking my license plate fell off or something. He comes to the driver's side window and asks for my license, but no insurance card and then asks me what my address is and I tell him and I'm still not knowing what I've done wrong here since my eyes have been on him since I almost ran him over. "I'm writing you a citation." and I said, 'For what? What did I do?" and he says, "Well, all the other cars on this street are going one way and you are going the opposite (or something to that effect)" OH. Clearly I was in the wrong. Then I start to panic because I've had three beers and what if they make me take a breathalyser. Fuck. He took my license and told me to go to the police station at Augusta and Wood (about 2 blocks away) and wait for him there since he was on foot. But not to try to get away because he memorized my license plate and obviously because he has my license. Well, I am cussing at my self the whole 2 blocks to the station and I get in there and it was exactly what a police station looked like. Big counter, quite a few cops behind the counter and that typing noise that you always here when there are cop stations in tv or movies. Two female police officers approach me from behind the counter and ask how they can help me and I tell them that I am there to get a ticket for going the wrong way on a one way. They were like, "Are you here to post bond on your license?" and I'm like what? How much is that? "$100, or it could be $75." Well, what if I don't have that?" I asked and they were saying that I could drive on the yellow ticket that is issued to me, but if I get pulled while driving with that, I could get another ticket. So, the anxiety is just brewing and I am doing my fucking damndest not to be a little bitch and cry. Finally, the cop that sent me there strolls in and the whole place stirs and they were all congratulating him for getting me while he was on foot. Whatever. Not helping. So he goes behind the counter, approaches me with a yellow piece of paper wrapped around my license and says, "You did two things right. One, you stopped for me and didn't take off and two, you came to the police station and also, I don't feel like going to my locker in the basement to get my book to write you a ticket. " To which a fellow pig says, "Flores, your book's right here." And Flores says, "Well you better go before I change my mind." So I beat it out of there, sat in my car outside the police station for about 10 mins and cried my eyes out. I was so fucking pissed about the douche bar owner changing the channel to the Cubs game that I almost got slapped with a boat load of problems if not hurting myself or someone else. I can totally understand people killing people and getting into fights.
Drinking leads to anger and violence. Who knew? I thought I would be a depressed drunk not an angry one. PLEASE DON'T DRINK AND DRIVE!!

Thursday, May 17, 2007


The word hippie growing up had negative connotations from both parents. I never realized how much of a fan of the environment I was until I had to think about the price of oil. For all the things I believe in, for everything that happens for a reason, and for the amazing things I've learned and peeps I've met, W and Dick are strapped to our stomachs like a suicide bomber's MacGyver. The best part are the people that were with them in the beginning and got swindled. That hurts and the douches in power should be reprimanded for the terrible danger they have led us into for 7 years. It makes me sick to my stomach. Shall we digress? Yes, we will.

Tree hugging/er has always been in my pile of non-PC sayings that I still frequently use with no offense intended by any means, but still there like fag, gay, and nigger. Of course this in a controlled environment in most cases, but still no malice and or bigotry. I would certainly not live in any city if I had problems with any other person including, but not limited to midgets in wheelchairs, vets on crutches missing an arm and a leg (another phrase I frequently use), people with hooks, you fucking name it and you can find most of anything in a city. I LOVE DIVERSITY!!!! I also love when people are conscious of things around them and take heed that if we protect the environment, keep religion as a private and personal situation, and be open minded, we might just be able to co-habitate without all the unnecessary killing. i am proud that I want peace in this world and I am proud that I care more about trees than the fucking asshole that just pulled out in front of me and then gave me the bird. Go environment!
Read about and Participate

Monday, May 14, 2007

New Kitty? No just changing kitty litter thanks.

"8 Cats, one lived until he was 26 then died of heart attack" she said as I piled my items including a cat poop scoop on the counter. She asked if I was getting a new kitty and I started to explain that I just started using a new kitty litter that was biodegradable (Shweat Scoop), but I didn't even get to "litter" by the time she whipped out pics of all 8 of her cats. She was precious as her co-workers of a different ethnicity from her started looking at each other and rolling their eyes.

I would go into how I am super afraid of me becoming this woman, but we shall skip it as it won't be happening.

Thursday, May 10, 2007

Bats in the Cave

For many years, decades, centuries, etc. people have been dealing with boogers in their noses. I was thinking about it today when the allergies I never had before I quit smoking cigarettes led me to constantly scratch my nose since 10am. Seriously all day. So annoying. I get a little complex about it because I don't want people to assume I'm looking for the coke I missed. So paranoid. I just kept sniffin' and rubbing even though I was completely aware that I just needed to pick it. Sometimes blowing doesn't help and sometimes the scratching the nose doesn't help and then you are forced to get to diggin'. An old friend that I've lost touch with and I used to call out, "Stevaay" when we needed one to check our booger situation. "Stevaay" was for Stevie Wonder. If we threw our heads back, side to side then said it, the other would know to look for boogers. It was a good system because virtually no one would get it or at least no one said anything.

A blog of boogers. They do freeze in the winter.

Friday, May 04, 2007

Night Mutha Fucking Crawlers

Literally. These are the nastiest fuckers ever. I've been dealing with this bitch for 4 and 1/2 hours. I usually catch them when near or on the ceiling. They are the creepiest of all insects that I've had the absolute displeasure of encountering. What's scary is that they are getting bigger as though the more I kill the more enraged they get and they are shooting up steroids to try to get to my size. If that happens, somebody has been spikin' my OJ. So I was gearing up to put some laundry away and as I finished dialing a longtime friend, Stephen, I looked up and in the corner was the biggest nightcrawler I'd ever seen. Gives me the heebs runnin' down my spine. Yeeeeessssh. The worst part is, it's not the right name. They look like they would be called something like that. I need to go to sleep, but I haven't cleaned up the mess yet. I am having massive issues about killing this bug, let alone how I tortured it for 3 hrs and then the last 1hr I've been devising a clean up plan. I pace a lot. I feel terrible for killing it and then having to clean it up right before I go to bed. Don't want it to be last image of the night.

Friday, April 27, 2007

Defense of the TUBE

As a product of television, I consider myself pretty freakin' lucky. I've always been on the chubbier side and played Barbies CONSTANTLY, but never once thought that I was supposed to have a waist like that nor did I think that however killing someone was fun or a regular thing. There are no false hopes, no proof of insanity or retardation for me, but television today (save some shows like 30 Rock and some mistakenly canceled shows like Arrested Development and the first season of The O.C.) is pathetic. Removing that laugh track on some brought us out a little, but reality shows put us right back in the idiot pool. As a avid supporter of television and Public Broadcasting, but as a non-conformist, I am so disappointed that though upon arrival Survivor may have been a great idea, but then why have the exact same show just slightly tweaked by 17 different names? The BBC and Canada were early sources from where I picked up comedy and get really pissed off at America for taking a show from such genius like Ricky Gervais (even though he produced it and Steve Carell is gold) and copycatting it to fit American culture. I know, I know, it's been done for years and with movies and music, too, but it just seems like we're cranking out these talented fuckers for what? To copy what doof just did 5 mins ago and capitalize on the wave is the way of it these days and I am a non-conformist that can't seem to find the heart to embrace the capitalism. Shit. That's gonna keep me poor for a long time.

Tuesday, April 17, 2007

Tragic and Super

If there was any other way to say, 'in the wake of tragedy', I would insert that here: blah, blah, I continue to focus on stand up comedy. In fact, this is one of the most horrific displays of why guns should not be allowed on civilian persons unless you're on COPS, meaning they are faced down with a gun in their back. There are too many retards about to give restrictions so they just say their background is being checked when it probably isn't. It is amazing that now college campuses are going to have to not only racially profile their students, monitor the knuckleheaded individuals who will now target or harass any Asian students, but start thinking that anyone on campus is capable of killing mass amounts of unprotected life. Unbelievable. Fucking unbelievable. I digress.

For the sake of keeping a promise to myself, I went ahead to the open mic tonight for the third week in a row and to my surprise, my bus buddy was there. Do you have a bus buddy? Jean is her name and she is the only person that has managed to transcend the laws of 'not talking to the folks at the bus stop'. She is a world traveler. Smart. Has studied in Dublin, London, and India among other places. She is married to an Irishman, but she herself bares no accent and doesn't wear a wedding ring. Cute, they are, as they did not show affection in front of me the other day which I found refreshing and strange. Different from the norm. Love it. She met me at the bar unannounced and was about to leave when I strolled in kind of late. My set was not the best and under the circumstances, I'm pretty damn proud of myself just for going considering my inability to be consistent and the sadness of the early week events. A friend said that he was proud of me for my recent 'sticktoitiveness' and I gladly take the compliment.

And if you have a moment and aren't completely sicked out by the way the media handled this situation and want to give a shout out in some way to the HOKIES, please feel free to do so.

peace in the middle east.

Tuesday, April 10, 2007

A Never Thought of Comparison

Sam Kinnison. I was compared to Sam Kinnison. Never have thought to compare myself to him. In fact, until a few years ago, he annoyed the crap out of me. Because he was a comedian, however, I gave him the benefit of the doubt since he was obviously doing something right and if I can get passed the screaming, I'll laugh with him. Sure enough and that acceptance has lead me to here. Another part of the journey. To be a stand up comedian is abrasively uncomfortable. I want it so bad that I would give up today instead of striving for the perfection that I want to achieve as it will be a loooooong MOFO road to hoe. Last week was SOOOOO much busier than most over the last couple of years and though in retrospect it made the week go by waaaaaay faster than I like, that is something I will need to let go of and understand that a lot can be done in 15 minutes. Things can be done a lot quicker if you do it now as opposed to later. Giving the understanding of my nature and/or habits of before and now, I am slowly submerging myself a little more into the public.

Once again I will be journeying to Phyllis' Musical Inn for the second Tuesday open mic on my reemergence back into the place that is stand up comedy. I have spent just about the last 12 years avoiding that which is prescribed as antidepressants. I have taken them before and have also been in and out of therapy to deal with a breakdown in my mental state, but until 2 years ago had minimal success.

Upon graduating college after 4.5 yrs of just "getting it done", I have found that I need people to need me, but I also believe that I can't stay in just one area because of the people. I would like to, but it as it ends up all the time, people get married, have kids, move to burbs, and have a whole new life they create for themselves. That's great. It was brought to my attention most recently that I am and always will be a non-conformist. That's it. I never considered myself that, but in retrospect, again, I totally see it. The first few early examples have to do with theatre and music. In chorus, in 7th grade, we were to choose a song for our final and I chose "Here, There, and Everywhere" by The Beatles (greatest band ever). I had heard the song once before and didn't know that sheet music was not always the layout of what the band was singing on the album. It was good anyway because I did it a cappella and no one else did theirs a cappella. Being in music, but not theatre until later, I used to poo poo Phantom of the Opera and Les Miserables, because I didn't believe in the hype. These are just small examples of non-conformity.

This new understanding of myself has allowed me to relax a little in my skin and, though just a hair faster than a snail's pace, I will get myself back into the performing world.

Sunday, April 08, 2007

Easter and Stuff

So this whole Jesus thing has me thinking that I don't really know how to accept him and the faith because a lot of his followers are retarded. And I mean retarded in the sense that someone took the time to create an anatomically correct(?!) Jesus out of chocolate and then there are those that have the audacity to call it blasphemous. Let it go. If you so believe in this man, that blasphemous talk should be kept to yourself because he works the opposite way from you. He would praise that person for their dedication and artistic sculpetry.

Had the luck to get to my first White Sox game of the season today, for Easter. A good friend who's parents have season tickets have had some family stuff happening and offered the tickets to me at midnight the night before the game and I certainly couldn't pass that up. It occured to me just how few friends I have in Chicago as I scrolled through my cell phone book and noticed that most live on the east or west coast and only a few remain in Chicago or other parts of the continent. That made me feel lonely. But that's ok, I am gaining my strength back even though I still get sick to my stomach if there is too much PDA . Couples are fine, but don't force it on me and it was all day at the ballpark. I'm a big girl and can handle going places by myself, but it makes my life and little more annoying when it's all I can do to not break down and accuse people of joking me for being whatever (chubby, alone, wearing pants covered in cat hair, blah, blah). I never can confirm if folks are joking me or laughing amongst themselves. I am so paranoid - Don't say it because I already know what you want to say.

Tuesday, April 03, 2007

More Boring If I Tried

Hey hey. I just completed the first step in resurrecting (Easter ref) my stand up comedy career. I went to Phyllis' Musical Inn tonight to do some crackpot stand up. The ad said sign up was at 6:30 and because I'm a little gun shy by being female and being shut out of open mics because of this detail, I was gonna be first to sign up and I was the first AND only to sign up before 7:30. I actually got a buzz on tonight. I had two beers and a shot of whiskey. The set was lame, but for what it's worth in getting over stage fright was priceless. At least there were more than two peeps in there and they weren't all comedians. I ranted a bit, but it got a few laughs so I'm happy about the outcome. It served it's purpose and it will serve it's purpose again. The host was an arrogant douche from the beginning and then I realized that he is just compensating. You don't call yourself an expert unless you are a highly paid professional in that line of work or you just got fired. This kid's hosting open mic stand up and just had his first opener gig and he's calling himself an expert. Oy vey! Good times overall, the bartender, Kevin is a treat, and the place is a neat venue.

Sunday, March 25, 2007

Times are Better

Even with the super rip that took out the bottom of my raincoat on Thurs, not to mention the stalker on Tuesday and an absolute scare that shook my love for my buddy Chubbs to the core on Friday, this was an absolutely delightful week. Despite the fact that my neighbors returned from a wonderfully long 24 hr vacation away from me, today has been nice. Yesterday I was able to donate blood once again as I haven't been able to in some time since getting sick and having high blood pressure even though I stopped the cigarettes 9 months ago and haven't looked back. The pressure was still high, but lower than it had been in recent checks and hopefully that will continue to plummet as I am trying to take care of my health organically and holistically.

In addition to just a better and more positive attitude towards myself these days, I had two lovely ladies visit yesterday and they keep me reminding myself and everyone how important friends are in your life. I have a loving family, but we are tuuuurrrrrrible communicators and a little on the selfish side, so I rely more heavily on friends in time of need. I consider myself pretty loyal until you (figurative you) do or say something repeatedly damaging, it ends clearly by one saying I can't speak to you anymore, or it just trails off like most of the men I've dated over the last few years. Meh. smell ya later. But these ladies are stupendously spectacular. Super HEEB HO stopped by to help me rid the do and donate the locks to a fabulous cause and Slave came over for some friendship, nail painting and some de-stressing time. Laughter is instant gratification which is why I've once again found myself reaching for comedy in any form. It makes me happier and it helps me let go of the things that are killing me, but I continue to sneeze. I've never sneezed so much in my life. Now that I don't smoke anymore, now I have allergies. Next week I'm going to get some flowers for the balcony unless my living situation changes. Here's hoping things work out for the best and remain more positive than negative.

Thursday, March 22, 2007

Chivalrous Waldo

Upon sardining myself on Chicago #66 approximately at 8:31 this morning I noticed this young man wearing what appeared to be a Where's Waldo shirt. Upon more sneak peeks, he actually had the Waldo look with the thick framed black glasses and not so fro-ey hair, but definitely looked like a real life Waldo. The train has been sucky as it is with delays and overcrowding due to the delays, but today the platform underground at Chicago's Blue Line stop was pretty open. I was the first to descend into the underground passage to the platform and I was the only person that stopped at my usual stopping and train loading spot. I was standing there for a few minutes when a man came by shuffling and what seemed to be wheezing and stood not 2 ft away from me. There was about 40 ft around me that was open, but this guy wanted to stand 2 ft from me breathing as he was and staring at me. Me being the person that makes eye contact had made eye contact initially when this man shuffled passed, but did not attempt to look in his direction again nor did I want to move away from him quickly for it may have sparked some unpleasantness. Well, in not doing anything the man go closer and started to move in behind me. I slid myself against a post a with a smile and an exasperated sigh I grab one side of my face with my hand and had made eye contact with Waldo (I know not his name and hope that no offense is taken by calling him Waldo) who had been watching me and what this guy was doing the whole time we were standing there. Without a word, he started to walk towards me and the creepy guy and without words he corraled the dude away from me. The panic come over me when the train was too crowded and I feared I'd be left on the platform again with the guy, but I didn't want to try the door he and Waldo were using, but the one that was close to me was blocked by people loading and a packed doorway. The panic was enough for me to push in behind a woman and to plead with the passengers to let me in, please and they did without any grief. I looked down the train to where Waldo had borded, leaving the creepy, breathing guy on the platform waiting for the next train. Waldo and I made eye contact and I gave him a 'Thank you' in sign language and mouthed it to him to which he nodded and smiled a little. Thank you for diffusing a potentially scary scene, Mr. Chivalrous Waldo.

Sunday, March 18, 2007

Ha Toe Ta Ti Ti

Oh doesn't it feel good when you force yourself to do something and it actually turns out ok?! It sure do. Went to a party last eve for a good lady's Bat Mitzvah and it turned out to be totally fabulous. Over the last few years I have had some luck in having a terrible time with myself at party's of strangers whether it be that I was uncharacteristically unsocial or that the crowd and I just didn't gel. For this reason, I kind of stopped going out. Now it really depends upon my mood or the group and where they're gathering. Sometimes I won't go because I know someone else will be there and I really have no desire to see them or have to dodge them or even confront them at someone else's party. Let alone having to be fake or stifle the disdain I have for them. So negative, believe me, I KNOW! It's terribly frustrating, but now and especially after last night (Thanks LP and Brosef!), I feel a wee more confidence building my bones and balls back up. I wore a beautiful and my most expensive piece of clothing last night. Never wore, only tried on, still had the tags, bought it 3 yrs ago and I just could not bring myself to wear it, until last night. I actually felt good leaving the apt. I was a wee self conscious, but I was also willing to jump out and take the chance that I needed. It's also a sure fire way to get me to keep up with the exercise. I have a few more pieces of clothing that I've never worn because of the weight (bought for incentive to lose weight), so we are taking the initial reason for the purchases and trying to make that be the motivation for getting even healthier.

Good times. Hope all enjoyed a safe and wickedly drunk St Patty's Day!

Monday, March 05, 2007

Dead and Cum

er, uh...Dedication and Commitment. Two words that used to describe a life of mine. See here as this blog has gone by the wayside. A month or so it has been since last I published anything here, but there are 7 drafts just sitting waiting to be completed. I give it to those that are not lazy and continue to put the word out or get a simple chore finished, like taking out the trash (it's a gd accomplishment and don't let anyone tell you diff'rnt). In recent months, I have come to realize that I am indeed spoiled. In so many different ways. My mother spoiled me the only way she knew how because I was an only child pretty much (the youngest of 4 by 9yrs). People have also spoiled me by giving me the greatest friendships of all time for about a year or two then we never speak again for many different reasons. A death, a cheat, a lie, a retarded hypocrisy, distance, and just being girls. Throughout these relationships you look to find yourself and grow together for a bit and learn new things to accept or not about the other. Generally friends will accept one another in such a way that a slip of the tongue should only result in maybe an argument or a few days of not talking not a lifetime of silence. Then again, those friends that can't see past themselves in any way shape or form, though they may think they do, remove themselves either because they are sick of hearing the truth every time I am around and that ain't the troooffff they tryin' to heah or it's not enough about them. The other spoilin' come from that fallout. Trust is still an issue no matter how hard I try to break back to the way it used to be. Lately I have been really making an effort to think about how I used to react to people as a child. More specifically, how did I react and communicate with the "special" folk? Watching a bit of the Beatles' Anthology last night and they remarked on how John would act kind of retarded (of course the 3 remaining didn't say it that way) when he would be uncomfortable; anywhere. There was even clips of it. I laughed. I picked it up from previous clips before they said anything. Me too, John. Regardless. Being the comedian, I was always nice to special folk and then had a good laugh at their expense later, but then it was adolescent immaturity and now it's just immaturity for comedy's sake. Genuinely though I used to help out like go to a dance for the Special Olympics and let my high school janitor grab my ass when I was a senior! OMFG!!! Creepy and no I didn't let him, but you know my whole youth group was joking and egging me on. I used to help the kids with crutches, chairs, Cerebral Palsy, etc, here and there and I want to do that again. Seems more rewarding to help other people and spread the wealth. It's also hard to hang on to friends because they sure do come and go so quickly so might as well make someone new have a good time. I used to dedicate and commit myself to making sure all who I encountered had a good time with me or I was able to help them in some capacity. So much so that even in their absence, though it may be miles and years since seeing or communicating with them, I will still spend just a little time of my day thinking fondly on that person and wondering how they are when guaranteed they haven't thought of me in years. It's been a long road on the way to myself and we are getting there. A few setbacks this past year have given me a new way to look at things and it will take a little more time to get to a good place again. Just want to give a shout out to you HEEB HO for your friendship and total understanding of the way things should be. Thanks for the Purim. That was ssssssssssuper!

Thursday, February 01, 2007

Get out and Thank

There are many days social interaction is not on the agenda and those days exist now because most everything I say is interpreted the opposite of what I was trying to communicate thus leading my confidence on a downward spiral and keeping me safe at home. A rather large wordage misstep occurred during a recent visit with a friend who has a significant amount of money and as I looked out at his land, I didn't scream, but I said out and fulled voiced, "I just want to drink in the richness", and he said, "What's that supposed to mean?" "The richness of" That's really all I meant, because the trees were so green and the air was so clean and virtually the best I'd ever breathed. He seemed so alarmed it almost made me weep. We are good now. I don't think he thinks I'm after his money because that is furthest from my mind. I value our friendship so far above money it's immeasurable the distance. He is one that can get me out of the house no matter what stupid junk I say. He is thanked every day for that. Have a good day.

Thank someone.

Thursday, January 25, 2007

Asparagus and Pew

The other evening I joined a pair of really super peeps for dinner and some quality theatre. We ate at Sidebar which is a nice bar in the Loop of Downtown Chicago. As it goes, I have to remove as much bread from my diet as possible for health reasons (not dieting) and in doing so, my choices were limited here at Sidebar. Everything was a sandwich or had something I didn't want added to the sandwich like onions or tomatoes. I just get tired of having to ask for shit to be removed from the sandwich. Build it like I want it, not smothered in onions or drenched in tomatoes. If I wanted that, I'd find myself a Waffle House and get some hash browns. So I got the pot roast with the veggie of the day which happened to be asparagus. Now, I am somewhat new to the enjoyment of asparagus and the cuts that accompanied the pot...roast, that is, were tiny and perfectly cooked.

After dinner we proceeded on to the Goodman to see August Wilson's final installment, Radio Golf. August Wilson is a neat playwright. He has chronicled the roots of African Americans from the 1900s up to the 90s. He died last year before the Goodman could produce the 10th and final of his Cycle of 10 plays. As we were waiting for the house to open, I spotted a dude I had worked with on a terrible production (which was the production that stopped my stage managing), but I wasn't sure if it was him or not. When we go in to the house to find our seats, where are we sitting? Two seats away from that dude, James. Sweet guy, but after I said, "Hello", you could tell he didn't remember my name. So sad. We worked closely in a booth, calling shows for 8 wks and not a clue came across his face until after intermission. At intermission, I went to the ladies room and the nastiest smell was coming from the toilet. I was like WTF?! I wasn't sure if it was me, the water, or what, but I didn't think anything of it until I got home and peed again. The same rancid smell came up between my legs and bowl as it occurred to me that asparagus would be the culprit. Unbelievable. I mean morning pee is pretty stinky, but this stream beats heinous. At least 6 pees smelled this way and each time I was caught off guard with an 'Newman' like, only with 'Asparagus' exclamation. Amazing how something so good for you can produce such a putrid smell repeatedly. pew.

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

Has Been Not Been

For all intents and purposes, this part of the journey has supposedly been about me, and it has, but not. Last year's resolution was met, granted it took half the year to do it, but it's done and will never be an issue again. This year I have a group of tasks for the resolution and we are partially winning the battle of the procrastination game. It is difficult working thru the ye lame time of the month, but at least I am aware of the worst part of the month. In addition to the knowledge of myself that I have gained over the past couple years, this year will be time for focusing and dedication. For the first time in a very long time, I am over my phone issues. I loathe the phone. If it were more readilly available, I would use telegrams. Not only have I lost the pack of friends I used to have, but most have moved, others have partnered off and still others are just not involved in my life for one reason or another. These are the reasons that I must remember why I have to put myself as the focus for my growth. So if I don't answer the phone and you leave a message, be patient, I'll call you back eventually. Just know that I don't check voice mail, but once every few weeks since virtually no one other than solicitors call and they even leave messages now.

It is time for a commitment to myself to complete the preliminary mission of me.

Sunday, January 14, 2007

And now this...

Plans have been made. Movement forward isn't exactly what has taken place due in part to some kind of illness the doctors are unfamiliar with, but won't necessarily agree with the patient, so stress gives aggrivation to the illness. Who knows what this change could be and it can also be associated with a few different angles. One being sexually transmitted, yet that has not been a consideration by any doctors and they know of my random and sparse acts of sexualness. Second being turning 30 and now so many people have come out to say that their body started doing weird things when they turned 30. Including, but not limited to becoming allergic to something they were never allergic to before. And lastly, but not all-ly, stopping the cigarette smoking. One thing I had been hesitant to deal with was the reaction my body would do after I stopped because while I was a smoker, I rarely got sick. I had bronchitis twice in the 11 years of smoking cigs, but never colds or fevers, although diarrhea was a regular and I attributed that to the Coca-Cola that remained a constant nutrient in my college years. Anyhoo. With this illness has come parental panic and plans of me leaving Chicago. My mother wants me to move back home to go to her doctors by way of taking a leave of absence and they would pay my bills. Ugh. I am very hopeful that I will outlive my parental units, but if anything, I would hope that I could have some time to myself before I am to take care of them. My mother has not only been laying on the guilt, but she lays on the negative. She doesn't see the brightside. Things always seem the worst, but not in a dramatic sort of way, but in a life sort of way. Not in a preachy way, but in a conversational way, I try to express the need for her to stop smoking and yet she manages to defend the one a day method. Fair enough. Negative in the sense that she and my stepfather just returned from Hawaii. What could possibly be negative about a trip to Hawaii? What was the first thing she laid (haha) in on? the flights. Not the trees, not the weather, not even the food, it was the GD flights and the MF turbulence. Come ON! Still negative, but since tabling some moves on my part, I think I will begin to hear more positive. Here's hoping.

Saturday, January 06, 2007


In confrontation there is usually some kind of release. If this release is closure, the release is that much more healthy, but if the release is in vain or exasperation, then the confrontation is pointless. Another chapter in the neighbor saga. Last night or this am at about 2:30, the neighbors got home and decided to wake up their neighbor again for the second time in a week. This is the second time also this week that I have had to ask them to be quiet. It takes so much rage in me to go and ask someone to stop doing anything that crying is on the brink. I don't like to have to confront people, let alone when I know they are fucking and really being rough in the bedroom above my bedroom. I had to pound on their door like the damn police for the second time this week. That makes three disruptions in a week. This is after I gave them a letter asking for them to lighten up on their footsteps and even speaking with the lady of the couple without resolving anything, but they have gotten louder. Whether by coincidence or sheer spite, it is damaging my demeanor some more. I wrote an email to the landlord this am at 4 am explaining the situation and attaching the letter I gave them. He seemed sincere enough in his response to me and said he would look into it. At least he thanked me for letting him know. Instead of telling me to get over it. The Golden Rule is something I try to live by in work and in life and it is so frustrating to see and deal with people who don't see it that way. They see entitlement and not being considerate to those around you. They don't know me and I don't know them, but my opinion of them is very poor and I would imagine the same comes back to me. This is the part that bothers me the most. I can see their side, but they can't see mine and refuse to in the process. They feel they are entitled to walk however loud they want to and to some degree they are right, but neither one of us own these spaces, the building, or are the only people that live here. I see it as being considerate and they take it as ridiculous to compromise their footsteps. The bright side? The bright side is that the whole day I have been looking for my mp3 player since I am one of 5 people that don't own an iPod and I'm ok with that and had to settle for my Walkman. The plan was to have headphones on to drown out my neighbors while I got some work done around the apt and it has worked. The bright side, you ask? I will be going to through some tapes and some of those tapes, I haven't listened to like this random Beatles tape, but it was a scam because they only sing one song on it and some ripoff artist sings the rest. I might listen to it a little more closely to hear if it sounds like Harrison on guitar and the other boys on back up. Little Mraz and the Beatles and we'll be dippin' into the singles. Remember singles? Tevin Campbell, Paula Abdul, NKOTB - YEAH!

Thursday, January 04, 2007


From the square to you. If you have a hangover and you are inclined to show up to work, give yourself a break and stay at your seat unless absolutely necessary to get up. If this is a regular occurence, do yourself another favor and get some help. Without sounding self righteous, I feel sorry for alcoholics. Thankful daily does not describe the feelings I have for not being an alcoholic. I am a head. I give good and I smoke good. Inspite of the fact that alcohol is legal and dopity dope is not, I choose to smoke. I have two vices of the gluttonest kind, getting high and eating, but I stopped cigarettes, I seldom touch the drink, and I would never come to work intoxicated by anything. It is absolutely fascinating and sometimes uncomfortable to be a non-drinker who is not recovering or a child. If I had saved a nickel for everytime my mother offered me an alcoholic beverage, I'd be in LA by now. She knows I don't and yet she wants me to and it's unclear whether it is to make her feel better for partaking. After stopping cigarettes, I have found a way to look at people with this kind of debilitating addiction (please forgive if this sounds righteous again) and it encourages me to continue on a non-nioctine life. The man that lead me on this path just died a little over a month ago by way of lung cancer. This man stopped in 1983, but continued to mentor people to stop by encouraging them to smoke in his prescence and this, I believe is how the cancer crept inside. The drink can do the same to a liver, only it is not by second hand drunkeness, it is by ingesting the juice on your own. I pray for a friend who recently lost her father unexpededly, that she may find strengh in her friends and family and not pick up those cigarettes in this time of pain. I haven't been able to talk to her and I have cried every day for her pain in addition to the hope that nicotine does not make it into her bloodstream as a way to cope with this terrible loss. Crutches are good for a short period of time, but if you don't give yourself the chance to heal without them, the crutch will become a part of you that will be harder and harder to ween. Don't even get me started on the drunk driving. Here's to a safe and less alcohol-related-deaths new year!!!! Happy New Year!