Porque solo los tontos...

Se enamoran igual que yo...

It’s raining in L.A. Cold, wintry winds drive shards of icy pain deep into my jacket as I smoke out by the lonesome little eucalyptus tree by the side of the building. It doesn’t mind the weather like I do. Youth, it seems, treats both trees and humans just the same, and Mr. Button’s case notwithstanding, I propound there’s nothing for the skin like youth, giving it both firmness and softness—both qualities long lost in mine. The bark of this little eucalyptus doesn’t mind the bending almost parallel to the ground in the strong wind; it loses none of its smoothness when it comes back up to challenge the wind yet again by bending ever so slightly into it. What mighty roots has this three year old tree! Wish that I had done in my four decades what it has done in a third of one.

So there are three of us now in the apt. Just now do I realize how much of a loner I really am: I like the noise to be nearly but not right by me, so I isolate myself a bit and let them do whatever it is young people do (which is usually noisy), while I play online, or watch TV, or read—though I’ve been doing that less and less these days. Lethargic by nature, I’ve gone into a semi-catatonic hibernating state these past few weeks, evidenced by my growing weight. Ugh! It’s time to start going to Bally’s again.

We’re working on a big project again. It’s a lot of fun to search out all the little bits of a large project and then assemble them all together as a puzzle, seeing the thing take shape from the bottom up. It is all for a quote, though, and I’m hoping we are significantly more attractive than the competition. A big project right about now would be good for the company—and all us little folk that work in it. It’s precisely what lets a small company weather the rough economy. Ora Pro Nobis!

Now, the new roomie listens to what we might rudely call chunty music. Brassy, very much like Polka, the music more typically heard in the Center-Northern states of Mexico is usually harsh, uncouth and unrefined, and for that reason sounds more honest, less an interpretation of the feelings, and more along the lines of a simple story told just the way it happened: truer. Trying to get past my cultural prejudices, I’ve started to listen to a couple, and ran into this song which reminds me of me: Solo Los Tontos. The version I heard is by Alacranes Musical, who play Duranguense music though they’re form Chicago (go figure!). It took me a while to get past the idea of the music and start listening to the song itself. I liked it. The guy’s a fool who falls in love with a smile and a look, and the girls take advantage of him—and seriously! Who doesn’t do that more often than they care to admit? I know I have, and probably will again. That’s how I met the new roomie in the first place. Go figure!

December Rain

Sunday again, a rainy December afternoon in Los Angeles. Funny how time flies. We just came back from El Nido—a nicaraguan restaurant in Los Angeles which I highly recommend. Don't be afraid of the area, of La Brea less than a block north of I-10. Every time I go, I end up ordering two plates: one to eat and one to take home. Good food! Reminds me of the good old days. Even my mom (though quite reluctantly) had to admit the food was great when we went there—last year when we were all still on talking terms.

We started year-end physical inventory at work. It is a longer process than most companies take, as we only have a limited number of people who can count past 10—regardless of attire. I hope we're done by the long weekend coming up, with all the audits we have to do after we're done counting.

One of my roommates (I have two now) got this movie off Ebay called Girls Will Be Girls and we're getting ready to watch it my room. It is an insanely funny movie—I've seen it once before. It is both insane and funny... it is truly a guilty pleasure.

They're going to order pizza... how many meals do skinny people really need in one evening?

Well, that is it for now... nothing particularly consequential to report...

But I'll leave you with this link, which should take you to funnyordie.com where you can find a tiny little musical starring (among others) Jack Black. It is very funny indeed. I hope you like it.

Prop8Musical

Let's do the time warp again...

These days, I'm sick of politics! Don't get me wrong, I'm a political creature, and followed this election from the very end of the last one... I figured it would be fun, full of interesting turns... betrayals, revelations, all the good stuff I'm too "manly" to watch soaps for... but then it went like the soaps do... FOREVER... Sweet Mother of Jesus! By the time Obama won, I celebrated as much out of sheer relief the race was over as I did in support for his campaign. They should be limited in time, these campaigns. Start in July. Not a word till then. From anybody. But since I support the first amendment, I guess I would never support my own proposal.

Plus, now that the election is over, I feel less obligation to write about the ongoing political climate of the country--one of the many excuses I used to avoid writing in my blog this long. A friend tells me politics in the United States is like playing football between the 49 yard lines--the unending attempt to differentiate yourself from the clone standing right beside you. Another excuse is the downfall in the economy. I've actually been a bit depressed by it: looking at the economic indicators reach the levels they were when the current president took office, or even before. He's effectively negated his own administration. We've just lost 8 years. Talk about the end of an error... There is, of course, the fact that the country is now going on a downward trend, economically as well as politically. So, in the end, we're worse now than we were then... I pray we do better over the next four years. I know it'll be difficult, but Americans have never been shy to work hard. World dominance is not accidental, however maligned it might be.

So I'm sick and tired of politics. I came to Palm Springs to celebrate my birthday. My friend came with me and she's about to go gambling, and because I don't gamble, I'm going to play pool instead. It's funny how everybody warns me about the bar I've chosen to go play pool at: it's gay. Ooooooooooh! You'd think in this day and age people would outgrow their petty fears of homosexuality. I wonder if the men think how women feel going to ANY bar considering the treatment they (the men) expect to get when going to a gay bar. I've had many interesting conversations with friends about the passing of proposition 8 by so many supporters of Obama, though he stated he'd vote against it. Go figure. People forget, these days, that democracy is not the simple, unyielding rule of the majority--we are all, after all, in a minority sometime or another. Catholics, Blacks, Men... Power, Freedom, are really truly exercised only when they are restrained, tempered by tolerance and understanding.

I'm sitting at the corner of the pool bar, fully dressed and drinking, blogging while people dripping in chlorinated water come by and chat it up, waiting for their drinks. A middle aged white man came by, whom I figured out the moment he arrived: as a buyer, I make it my business to develop schemas of people's personalities, and while I try to keep an open mind to change my preconceived perceptions of people. I have to used them, manipulate them, overpower them at their own game. It's an expensive hotel, and though I'm sitting here reading Kafka, drinking single malt scotch, and typing into a very nice laptop, he asked if I work here. Knowing a simple denial would be insufficient, I turned my face into a condescending scowl and told him "Heavens, No!" as I smiled and gave a knowing look at the hottie sitting beside me (my friend, who is, as far as the man is concerned, my girlfriend). Embarrassed, he apologized, began only then to talk to me as an equal, and bought me a drink--though I'm sure he wasn't happy to find out it's $20 a shot. It's things like this that make me wonder if we are truly ready to have a "Black" president, a non-white president. I wonder if Bush lost it for McCain instead of Obama winning... the result is the same, either way, so I don't mind. The process is not as important as the result anyway.

I wanted to write a monumental opus for my return to blogging since my trip to Chicago. I wanted to be erudite, insightful, composed, stuffy. But to hell with it. I can only apologize to Mamacita (link to the right, if I updated it), for her incredible support even in my absence. She barely knows me and still, I feel she keeps me in her heart more than many people whose bills I pay. Oy Vey!

Updates: I killed my car, got a new one, got two roommates, am planning to use their rent money to get a better car, and have weathered the stagnant economy better than most. Thank G-d for that last bit. While it's true that it helps to be good at what you do, there is a lot of luck or divine intervention involved and anybody who says otherwise, those who claim you make your own destiny, just don't get it so there's no point arguing with them.

By the way, my friend and I were at a tapas bar last night and this couple got seated with us... they're Israeli, and we started a conversation, and it was wonderful! You might remember (if you've read my previous posts) my Israeli ex-boyfriend... he built a special spot in my heart for his people (Jews in general and Isrealis specifically) and I felt warmly towards them from the start... however, the Rosseta stone people want $600 for the course, and I'm too cheap for it... maybe I'll just attend the local community college. Lucky that living in the San Fernando Valley, there's plenty of places to study it. I hope they can overcome my Arabic name and background. :-)

So I'm going now. I hope those of you who know me and accidentally happen upon this post will forgive my quick departure. I toyed with the idea of promising to write daily for a month, but I just won't do it... so I'll do this: I promise to write at least once a week for a year. Ultimately, this is a record for my children to remember me by when I'm gone--if they happen to run into it. I find that I can be more honest here, hidden behind the veil of anonimity the Supreme Court promised those who chat online.

Be well! May you weather this rough spot... may we all...