Stop with the Brokeback jokes, PLEASE!

Yes, it was a good movie. Yes, there were some awesome performances. Yes, gay cowboys are kinda hot. Yes, it may have broke new ground.** Yes, we all wish we knew how to quit Heath Ledger...it's hard, I know. But please, for the sake of originality, and my sanity, PLEASE:

STOP WITH THE BROKEBACK JOKES!!!!

It's kinda like what George Clooney said about winning his oscar, that he'll be forever known as an oscar winner and sexiest man of 1997. That's how I feel homosexuality will be associated with from now on. Which is kinda sad to me. In the future, we'll look back in the post-Brokeback Era, and know that it started with this movie. Being gay will no longer simply be "being gay". (Not that it's that simple to begin with) Homosexuality (not to mention cowboys too!) will now always be tainted by that movie, with the prefix of "Brokeback ThisorThat" or jokes like "Hey there goes that Brokeback couple" or "maybe that cowboy is from Brokeback Mountain."

Ok ok, lame jokes I know, but I'm not a freakin comedian. I'm just trying to make a point.

So the point is, references to the movie are no longer funny. It has overstayed its welcome. I also believe this whole phenomenom is creating this outlet that's making it ok to poke fun at gays. First there's the Brokeback to the Future spoof, then theres the Top Gun spoof. Then there's Billy Crystal in the tent with Chris Rock. Not to mention the film montage during the Oscars that show supposedly all cowboys are gay in old westerns. Yadda yadda yadda. Ok, alright, I get it!!!! Now stop it!!!

I don't usually get irritated with too much, but this topic has me irked. I really do believe it's just the lack of originality. Spoof after spoof, joke after joke, it's always the same thing. If Brokeback the film was suppose to be a "fresh" new look at homosexuality, then boy, you spoofers and joke makers are really sucking it dry.

And the other reason is just what I said earlier, that spoofing this film is making it ok to make fun of being gay. I don't know, are there any gay people reading this that don't agree with me? Am I being too uptight about this? Making it an issue when it's really not? Do you, as a gay man or woman, actually enjoy these jokes? Not that I have any gay readers, but because I really don't know, why don't you tell me.

But for all of our sakes, I really hope this is just a phase that everyone grows out of...like that whole Jerry McGuire phase we all went through where everyone "completed" each other and all that bullshit.

**And can someone please explain to me how Brokeback broke new ground? We're in 2006. Homosexuality is everywhere, though perhaps not accepted everywhere (like your trusty Mastercard). We've seen homosexuality before in movies. It's on TV everywhere! The L Word, Queer as Folk. Samantha made lesbianism hot on Sex and the City (yes, most guys will argue that it was always hot to begin with, that Samantha had nothing to do with it, whatever, I'm trying to make a point). Will and Grace is on a public channel, not CABLE, where you have to pay! Any poor person with a TV has access to Will and Grace. I'm just trying to pointing out, it's nothing new!!! (Damn, I should be a lawyer.)

So, even though Brokeback was a great love story, does the fact that it's a love between two really really, I mean, really hot gay cowboys (let the record show that I've loved Heath even before he went down in A Knight's Tale back in '01 and my relationship with Jake began shortly thereafter) make it ground breaking even though it's a subject we've all heard of/seen before?

Can someone explain that please?


Oy. I rest my case.

Oh Kelly Clarkson, how I love you.

I need another day.

SB has a point. Sometimes, the two day weekend is just not enough to do all that you need to do. We have five days to work, why don't we get 5 days to do our shit? But see, I'm not even asking for 5, I'm just asking for one more. Three day weekends should not be something we look forward to, it should be the norm. The units of time within 2 days is sometimes just not enough for what I have planned. I have old roommates to catch up with. Phone calls to people I have to make. Movies to watch. Moon to play with so she doesn't feel unwanted. Trainers to set up. Laundry to do. Self training to master. Guitar songs to rehearse. Grey's Anatomy I want to watch. Apartment to be cleaned. And so on, and so forth. Every weekend, I make this list, and hardly ever do I check off the entire list before it's Monday morning again. After the hours spent into extra sleeping, showering and eating, the weekend's half gone. If we had another day, we wouldn't run into this problem. Everyone would be refreshed from the weekend, having done all that was needed, and be ready to work on Monday. Great, and now I'm starting to sound like SB.

Tonight, Moon and I made it home to watch the last hour of American Idol, guy's night. I try not to get sucked into these things, but its hard. Especially with someone like Ace on the show! Boy, he's a real winner, I'll tell you that. Moon would never admit it, but she was mesmerized too, I can tell.

I finally finished Life of Pi last night (which was the reason for me getting up late this morning and almost late for work). I had my doubts in the beginning, but halfway through it, I found myself engulfed in the book, and thinking about it throughout the day, wanting to talk to someone about Pi, (also wanting to eat some pie too, but that's nothing new). That's when you know you've got something special; when it creeps up on you before you even realize it.

There's just something about reading a really good book thats just so refreshing yet really lonely at the same time. The experience of it is twofold: you find yourself trapped inside the world of the writer, living his words, celebrating his joys, traveling the world. Yet at the same time, reading a book is so personal: you do it by yourself at your own pace, you turn the pages when you're ready, all the sadness and happiness you're experiencing is done alone. There's no one to share it with at *that* moment. There were so many times while I was reading when I just wanted to turn to the person next to me and say, "can you believe that just happend?" but I knew I would be answered by silence.

Oh sure, tons of people have read the book, I can find anyone to sit down and have a discussion, but I just feel it won't be the same. They'll be recalling hints of memories of what they read a week, a month, a year ago. They may remember what happened in chapter 24, but would they be able to remember how they felt when they read that chapter? What was racing through their minds? What kinds of questions they had that they deeply needed answered right then?

No, I don't believe it would be the same.

But, no matter. As lonely as it is, I would rather have these amazing experiences on my own than to never have read anything worthy of a deep heavy sign of appreciation as I did last night.



Mmm...french apple pie.

Alas, I've found that Mr. A-Z will not return to the states until at least after June. Hopefully he will be back in July, perhaps in time for my birthday? That would be spectacular.

This past week the band finally got together for the first time ever, after months of talk and mental rehearsals. Things escalated when our "studio" (if you will) was suddenly made available to us. Shortly thereafter, we conceived of the greatest band name ever, one that everyone quickly agreed to without hesitation (not to mention ideas for t-shirt designs), which finally resulted in our first jam session. One thing I realized during our jam session was this: being a rock star will be harder than I imagined. Not that I ever thought it was easy, but it will be hard. I need to brush up on my skills. (But in reality, I really need to just get some skills.) My lack of musical abilities was not exposed this time, for Hillz forgot to bring her amp for me, so I played as if I was the greatest rock star ever, and since they couldn't hear me, nobody was none the wiser. But since then, the amp has been brought in, and the next time we play, everyone will find out I'm a fraud.

But no matter. I will not let that stop me. Embarrasment only lasts momentarily (unless you're like me, and tend to play all things embarrassing on a constant loop inside my head.) And if I suck now, I can only get better. I'll bring home the "most improved" award. Afterall, I can't NOT be a part of a band with a name so great. It'd be like knowing you have the winning lottery ticket, and then throwing it in the trash.

And who would do that?

"Not I", said the fly with a pie in the sky.

Not I.

The Chronic (WHAT!)-cles of India

,

and subsequently Hong Kong

: A continuation...

I don't think I can quite go through everything I experienced in India, so I'll just do what I can on this blog, and leave the rest in my head, where images still appear in my dreams even after a week of being back.
A couple things on India:

*Driving on the street gets pretty crazy.*

Cars don't drive inside the lanes! This I experienced pretty quickly in India, when the driver took us from the airport to the hotel. They seem to like to hover over the middle white line that divides the road into two lanes. Everyone always seems to be in a hurry, so if the rickshaw/car/bus/large truck with a load the size of an elephant/etc. is going too slowly in front of you, you simply honk your horn for them to move over to let you go ahead. But you don't just honk. You HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONK (seriously) until the vehicle in front of you moves over. And even IF you can clearly see that the vehicle in front of you can't move over for whatever reason, you still HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONK HONK HONK HOOOOOOOOOOOOONK until they do so. Even if the vehicle in front of you is still a few seconds away from being directly in front of you, you still HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONK until they move, just to get a head start. It gets very loud and annoying sitting on the road, let me tell you.

However, many of the large trucks have two words painted on the back of the truck or rear bumper: HONK PLEASE. So I guess it's normal to be honked at. Another thing I noticed was that many of their heavy loaded trucks are all very brightly painted and decorated. They're fun to look at, especially when the honking gets not so fun.

Many times, depending on what part of the city you're at (we were mostly in Delhi), I'm guessing the light signals are merely "suggestions" rather than the law. There were a couple times when after we crossed a street, I thought to myself, "Self, did we just go through a red light?" To which I would reply to myself, "Self, I belive we just did."

On the very first day of our 5 day tour, within 10 minutes of getting into our car, the car's right side mirror got sideswipped by this huge bus. That's how close the bus came to us.

The streets there were farily dusty. Parts of the main roads were paved, but the sidewalks weren't. Everywhere I went I felt like there was dust everywhere. Not to mention cows. People keep asking me if I saw cows. Yup. I saw cows. Lots of them. Most of the time just chillaxing on the street, or trying to find something to eat. Most of them looked like they were in pretty bad shape though, either really skinny, or really dirty. None of them looked particularly happy, not at all like those prankster california cows that they're always showing on TV. I also saw several elephants, monkeys (which, as cute as they are, you have to stay away from), yaks, camels, and of course, a snake charmer with a cobra that came out of the basket when he played his flute thing.

Oh, and along the way, I saw men (of all ages) just peeing along the side of the road, or against a wall. Speaking of men:

*Men in India are not afraid to show their feelings.*

I saw alot of men in India holding hands with other men. Either alone together, walking down the street, with a group of other friends, you name it, they hold hands. They also get very huggy with each other. And yes, they're still completely heterosexual. Trust me, we asked. It was a little surprising at first to see, but I'm glad that they're ok being so open about showing their affection for their friends.

I don't think I'll get into all the temples, museums, and monuments we saw on our trip. Too many to name, and the pictures would probably do it better justice than whatever I can say about them. Actually, no. The pictures themselves probably won't do the real places any justice either...I'm a bad photographer anyway. I can't say that my experience is totally representative of India since most of the places we went to were tourist areas. So if you're really all that interested about the things I saw, I guess you'll have to go there yourself and experience it.

One thing I did love in India was their movies. I watched parts of 2 movies on the busses, and even though I couldn't understand what they were saying, I still got the gist of it, and I LOVE those dance numbers. The guys dance, the girls dance in their sexy clothes, and they just dance dance dance while they sing sing sing, and everything is really bright and colorful. How can one not be happy after watching one of those singing dance numbers? How?

I do have to say though, that I've become quite proficient at squatting down to pee. You do something enough times, you're bound to get good at it, even if you weren't to begin with.

HONG KONG...

...was awesome! For some reason, I really liked Hong Kong. Maybe it was because it was so much more comfortable than India. Maybe because everyone there is Chinese and I can relate and just blend in. Maybe it was because everything seemed familiar and reminded me of my early childhood in Taiwan. Or maybe it was just because there was food everywhere? Yea, probably. (Oh, and plus Hong Kong is just fun to say in English. I usually say it with an accent ala Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany's.)

Everywhere you go, there is a restaurant in front, in back, to the sides of wherever you are. Small or large (but usually small). I smelled chinese food all the time! (Which was a great change from all the curry smells that made me nauseous in India, AND, the lack of any chinese food smells in Burbank.) And most places stay open pretty late...imagine having noodles after midnight....oh the life.

Public transportation there consists of nice and clean double decker buses, clean subways, taxis everywhere, and mini buses (which are suppose to be faster than the big busses I think). It was really easy to get around. And all you do is buy a Supercard in advance, and you can just scan it through on the busses or subways. It's so fast and easy, and there's no fishing in your pockets for change. I'm starting to sound like a commercial for Hong Kong...

And did I mention the food? Hong Kong is famous for their seafood, which, when I realized it, thought, it's ok, I can just eat rice. (I'm not a huge seafood fan...I'll eat fish, but I can pass on all the other stuff.) But there was one night where we had a seafood feast, and I tried everything, even things I didn't think I would ever eat, and it was all so delicious. SO DELICIOUS!!!! I still don't know what some of the stuff I ate was. But I know it was darn tasty. I left that night with a full stomach and a new outlook on seafood. Well...at least the kind in Hong Kong.

Even though I have lived in Taiwan and New Jersey, I mostly grew up in Southern California...Orange County no less, and I've always been aware that I live in a bubble. So whenever I go to a new place I always wonder if I can ever live there, if my coffee drinking, corolla driving, celebrity sighting, flip flop wearing, Hollywood trashtalk, sunny-all-the-time-without-humidity, reality TV filled way of life could ever adapt to a new environment. I think I could in Hong Kong. I think I'd be able to toss up my beret, do a twirl in the street, and make it there afterall...should I ever choose to.

I guess we'll see.

Hello people. Here I am, back from the other side of the world, alive and well (except for dry skin and the minor sniffles). I'm pretty bummed, I didn't get to write as much as I had expected to, there just wasn't enough time. So, I will now transcribe what little I did write, which really had nothing to do with the places I visited at all. Perhaps the next post, or the next. We'll see. This will be a long post, bear with me. Or, just skip it all together.

The Chronic (WHAT!)-cles of India

Monday, Jan 23, 7:38am

Well, it's only been a few hours into my trip and already I have so much to write about. I'll spare you the particulars about getting up at the crack of dawn and just jump right into my first QTS ("question to self"): Just how many beverages on board this flight will they serve me before cutting me off? It seems like a good test to conduct in the midst of my boredom, but perhaps I will save that for the 10hr flight to Tokyo.

Next item of business: while in the car to the airport this morning, I came up with the greatest title to sum up all the writing I'll be doing on this trip. Henceforth, begins: "The Chronic (WHAT!) -cles of India (and subsequently, Hong Kong)". Alright, I admit, its long and only slightly humours if you've seen the SNL skit. If not, well then, go download the skit online somewhere and then come back. -BATHROOM BREAK- Just returned from the bathroom and one observation; morel ike a second QTS: this mile high club that people talk so much about, how do they manage? These bathrooms are tiny, barely enough room for a large person, how do two people fit in there? Perhaps the restrooms are larger on the jumbo jets...I'll have to report on that later.

Soon, I will be landing in Portland. I wish I had done some research about Portland since I'll be stuck there for three whole hours. Slight chance of rain there, the capt. said. I wouldn't mind getting out of the airport to see the city but its highly doubtful I will. I'm sure I already display signs of being the novice traveller. I'm a little too eager in my movements and too easily excited and confused. A skilled con man would be able to easily single me out in the crowd and prey on my inexperience with traveling. Oh look! Snowy mountains to my right! Pretty..

I have a window seat, and am the only occupant in this row, which is cool, I've never had my own row before. And hark! More snow! One thing I do like about flying, is that it's always sunny up here, despite the weather down there. I mean, to have the sun right next to you, shining its rays of light down below is so serene and promising of what's to come.
Ooooh! A snow filled lake!

My mental visualizations of the plane going down will not help me on this flight, for I visualized myself on the left side, and I am sitting on the right side of the plane. And, the other passengers on board are just too mellow to fulfill the role of the screaming chaos I had visualized. No, these people will not do at all. And it's too late to adjust my visualizations, at least for the flight. Perhaps on the next?

11:27pm PST Monday

There is snow in Japan. How cool is that? Ok, maybe not that much, I guess its just that everything looks pretty from above. So far, from the circular walk I just made around the international center area, Japan is pretty darn cool. For one, I've already gotten kicked out of the NWA membership lounge, (not knowing it was the membership lounge) but the Japanese lady was so polite about it that it was actually a pleasure to get kicked out by her. (How was I suppose to know you need a membership card to stay in the lounge? The signs said "public lounge!!")

**NOTE: Upon returning to that airport, I realized that I had read the sign wrong, public lounges were downstairs, membership lounges (where I went) was upstairs.

I feel like an ipod commercial walking around these airports with my ipod shuffle dangling around my neck (I have no pockets on me), while I walk in step to the tune of Ben Lee's "That's the way I like it." I was a bit worried about the music selections in my shuffle, but so far, I think I did superb: these are totally hanging-out-in-airports-of-different-countries tunes. Definitely.

So I survived the dreaded 10hr flight. Sat next to an older gent whose story can be an entry of his own. It was definitely more cramped on that flight, which was the reason for me not writing for 10hrs. Plus Tom (the name I'm giving to the man who sat next to me because we never did introduce ourselves, thus avoiding the commitment of friendship at the minutest level) probably would have asked about it, or even worse, start reading over my arm about the things I would write about him. Instead, I read my trashy OK! magazine, a little piece of guilty pleasure I gave into during my 3hr wait in Portland, which, from the airport, seemed very pretty (again, probably just the whole "birds eye view" thing. Tom said its not so great.) I also napped, ate a lot of snacks I brought, ate alot of in flight food, shared my snacks with Tom, and watched bad in-flight movies. Other than my back and my butt being super uncomfortable, it wasn't so bad. Actually, trying to sleep was really tiresome and annoying.

Oh great, my shuffle just stopped working. My apple commercial has ended. Op! There it is. Yay!

So, I made some observations on the last flight that answered some of my previous QTS's. Number one being: in higher altitudes, my bladder will probably give in before the beverages do.
In flight beverages: 1 SH: 0

Also, after making several trips to the restroom, I've concluded that yes, two people can fit in there and still have a couple inches of room left to join the club. It may not be comfortable, but it is definitely possible. However, another QTS is raised: How do 2 people get in without being seen? I guess that is why the club is so exclusive: because it's hard. There's at least 1 person hanging around at any given time, not to mention the people who sit right next to the restrooms who have nothing else to do but look at the people entering and exiting the restroom. So, I give props to the people of the "club."

The Sun is just now setting in Japan, but it is after midnight in Burbank. I have made it through my first day and I am still here, alive. My mental visualizations would have come in more handy on this last flight, as I was sitting on the correct side of the plane this time, and the passengers aboard, little beknownst it to them, corroborrated with the passengers in my visualizations: a couple families with small children (the better to add to the chaos if the plane went down), many Japanese men and women (have you seen their useless inventions? If they're not crazy, I don't know who is), and just a good mix of people who seemed like they would create chaos, should the opportunity arose. Not at all like the duds from the Portland flight.

6:02 am PST Tuesday

Boy, am I lucky. With 30 minutes left before I land in Hong Kong, I will just say that I was able to have the whole row to myself on this flight. I didn't really get to take advantage of the whole situation though, but the extra leg room is always nice. And boy do I feel like crap. That is all.

Feb 1, sometime somewhere in Singapore

Here I am, sitting once again in the singapore airport, waiting for my flight back to Hong Kong. That's right, back to Hong Kong. I barely had a free moment in India to do any writing. It was all "go go go!" or sleep so that we can do some more "go go go!" My so-called "chroic (what!) -cles of India" are now over. There's just so much to write about my experience in India, but its 5:50 in the morning, and instead of sleeping, I watched 2 whole movies plus 1 Family Guy episode on the plane, so it's a bit hard to concentrate on recalling all that has occured over the last 5 days. Instead, I will just write what comes to mind:

An addition/amendment to an earlier QTS: I've found that different size planes have different sized bathrooms, and when you're on an overnight flight where most people are sleeping in the middle of the flight, it seems easier than I had previously imagined to get 2 people in the bathroom to do their "bid-ness." That is the last I will say on that topic. I'm not obsessed, just strangely curious.

Oh how much I love singapore airlines. They have over 10 movies to choose from, all pretty big names and all pretty recent, in all sorts of languages. Not to mention several popular TV shows, recent and popular music albums in several languages, interactive games, and other fun things I didn't even get a chance to look at. This stuff makes the time go by so much qucker. Another reason for my lack of wirting and random thoughts.

6:34 am, continued...

Got distracted by a big yummy bowl of airport congee and CNN. Not bad for airport food. Congee is great for breakfast but really, its good at anytime of the day, if you make it right. Speaking of food, I don't think I'll be having Indian cuisine for a long time. I'm not saying never, I'm just saying a LONG time. Reason being: I go pretty sick in India. On the first day there I threw up my breakfast, and proceeded to repeat the act 2 more times through the day. I think I broke my own record. It was like that scene in Kindergarten Cop, if you've seen it you'd know what I mean. Anyway, more gory details later in my breakdown of India, but my point is, after something comes up the way it went down three times in one day, it's just not so appetizing anymore, and any similary smells encountered subsequently afterwards only acted as an annoying prodding stick, reminding me of that glorious day when I left my mark on India on three separate occasions along the hills of Shimla.

SH: 3
India: 0

Correction-

SH: 4
India: 0

(I threw up again the next day. Not to mention nearly again the day after that.)

Anyways, enough about my digestive track. Let's talk about how hot the flight attendants are on singapore airlines. Ok, they're not all hot, but they're all very pretty and well groomed. I wonder what their requirements are when hiring these gals- 1) Be pretty? 2) 24-36-24? What's the word when one discriminates against ugly people? Oy, can't think...too early in the morning.

Boy, still another 1.5 hours before I leave for HK. And then a couple more hours to get there. I can't wait though - Chinese food GALORE!!! Dim sum, noodles.. I can't imagine what else. I can hear the noodles chanting my name already. Good thing my name is very chantable - you should try it some time. Anyway, enough writing for now, I'm going to zone out on ESPN football. And by football, I mean, American Soccer. And by American, I mean British. And by British, I may mean Irish or Scottish, I can't be sure.

Alright kids, this is it. This is my last blog before I leave for India. I'll definitely be writing (manually)along the way, and it will depend on the availability of my sis's laptop and internet for me to post something while I am there. (Who knows, this could be my last blog ever.)

So be good while I'm gone, and goodnight.

At the prodding of Ms. Schu, I will now blog. (She's like the guilty conscious in the back of my head that's come to life.)

Nothing of significiance to post lately, thus, the half assed poetry about boys, which, is so retarded now looking back on it that I'm about to delete it from history, except: that would be cheating. Once you blog, you can't go back. (Well, technically, you can, you just hit the delete button. But we're living in my world here, a world in which deleting already-published blog posts is not allowed. It's the "no takebacks" from 4th grade. It's that 2am drunken call you wish you hadn't made the morning after. But you did, and you have to live with it. It's done and its over with, and even though there's the "delete post" button staring you in the face, prompting you to hit it with your best shot, you ignore, and move on with your life. At least in my blog world...)

Moving on.

I am going to India.

That is a bold statement, is it not? :)

And let me just say that "Save as draft" is a loophole into the "no delete" rule. When you save, you are interrupted, but plan on coming back to the post later, at which time, you could delete the post if you so wish, no one would know; it has not yet made it into the internet void, its just dangling somewhere in the air, like that little string of skin attached to your baby teeth about to fall off. But I digress...

Usually, upon called to dinner by my mother, I would save this post as a draft and come back to it later. But somehow I know I will end up avoiding the bold statement I've stated above. I will now publish this post, send it out into the internet world, so that I can abide by my own blog rules and will HAVE TO come back to this subject at a later time.

I bid thee goodnight, and a happy 2006.



It's kinda a cliff hanger, is it not? Dun dun dun!!!

Cute boy.
Cute waiter boy?
Cute chef boy.
Cute boy who cooks
Cute boy who cooks looks good in black apron speaks fluent french.
Cute boy.

Let me just say that Breakfast Burritos may just be the most perfect food on earth. You've got cheese, potatos, eggs, salsa, beans, and some kind of meat all wrapped up in a tortilla. So potable...so handheld...so YUMMY. They're so great, that they deserve to be capitalized in writing.

Wait...deja vu....I feel like I've blogged about this exact same thing already...But who cares. If you haven't read that post, then it's new to you.

And since when did Jodie Foster speak fluent French??

Good god, I'm still at work...waiting for renders is no fun.

So this is Christmas...so the song goes. I have nothing of interest to comment about lately. Either that or I can't remember any. To my right sits six bottles of Orange Cream soda, to my left, the packet of pop rocks is humping my spiderman mousepad. I wonder if I combine my left and my right, what will happen? Some people may guess that I'll explode. I don't think I'll explode, I think my mouth would just hurt alot. I mean, since I don't drink carbonated drinks often, just drinking soda alone hurts my mouth sometimes. So just imagine it with some watermelon pop rocks. Wow. The pain...

I still have remnants of Heath Ledger on my mind from last night's Brokeback viewing. Kinda slow but very...oy whats the word...(no not "burn". That's a Little Mermaid reference for ya K)...passionate I guess.

Ok, renders are done...back to work.

In reply to my email informing the staff at This American Life about the injustice on The OC (mention in my Nov. 17th post):

"HI, we were aware and actually offered a free gift to people who visited our website after the show for a few days ...

All best,

~e"

Bummer...I did not visit their website after the show, and thus, did not get my free gift. She didn't even tell me what the free gift was!!! Why didn't I even think to visit the website? Sheesh kabobs.

Good god, Santa sings!

Or should I say, holy jesus?

Not only does Santa sing, Santa sings in spanish! Santa stopped his picture taking amidst a long line of children, and proceeded to sing Feliz Navidad, while the instrumental music blasted on the speakers. I was so disgusted that I had to push my way through the crowd to get out ASAP. Whatever happened to the good ol days when you tell santa what you want, and then you get pushed down a huge slide by some weird elves? Ok, so I never really waited in line for santa, and that slide thing probably only happened to little ralphie, but still, how does santa have time to fit in a song or two with all those children waiting for him?

The holidays are a weird time for me. Every year, I WANT to get into the spirit, but every year, it just gets a little further and further away from me. I can't stand the crowds anymore, the commercials, and the waiting..., and ESPECIALLY the singing by santa, who should really just sit in his chair and say his ho ho ho's. I try to do it with the music, but even with that, there are some songs that really annoy me.

Oy..the holidays...the joy.

fuck.

Rather than do the usual "event blogging" (as Ms. Schu calls it I think?) where a blog of everything that happened to me during this year's Thanksgiving festivities is produced, I've decided to base this entry on thoughts and inquiries and wonders alone. I'll save my events for next time, perhaps.

I'll let you all in on a little secret: I'm in love. With a Mr. A-Z. My silly school girl crush that developed when I saw him last has now evolved into an all out love fest. ALL OUT I say.

It's weird. The first time I saw him, I developed the same type of silly crush for a couple days, and went back to business as usual. Last year around the same time, I saw him again, and same thing. But this year I can't seem to shake him off.

What is it about a boy, his guitar, a silly backwards cap, and a dreamy voice that makes me swoon? I knew he was one of those girl charmers the first time I learned of him: freshman year Vis 70N, it was a production class. Our final: interview a celebrity. What kind of weird assignment is that? Where were we to find celebrities in the city of SD? But alas, my group interviewed Tiffany. Y'know, the 80's version of Britney and Lindsay. Well, actually, I didn't know. Had no idea who she was until I heard one of her songs. Could've Been? Ring any bells? Well, even to this day I still only know Mandy Moore's version. Anyways, I digress.

So, when it came time to screen everyone's interviews, I was intrigued by this group that had interviewed some sort of no-name-not-quite-made-it-yet musician who seemed to have his own huge following in SD. They followed this guy around, in his car, to his house, asking him questions along the way. One point in the interview, they even showed him surprising some girl at her own birthday party, sat down, picked up his guitar and sang to her right then and there. She swooned. (I would have too.)

"No fair" I thought. They've interviewed some guy that's not even famous! Even though I was intrigued throughout the whole interview, I still didn't think the group followed directions for the assignment...he just wasn't a celebrity! Me and my stupid principles.

To this day, I keep wondering...had I been in a different group...THAT group, the group that interviewed him, I would've met him. I would have sat in his car asking him questions for the assignment. I would have been in his house while he showed us his practice room. I would've been at the birthday party where he made girls swoon. I would have been able to have a conversation with him. Perhaps we would have become friends? Perhaps he was in desperate need of a professional whistler? Who knows, I might've been the one touring with him right now, instead of writing this blog. Actually, he blogs too, so maybe we would be blogging together, but separately. You get the gist.

So you see, our paths almost-not-quite crossed. I feel like we have some sort of history together, even though he doesn't know it, and I'm kinda forcing it.

Maybe one day I'll meet him. But it wouldn't have been the same had we met for that interview. Because now, I'm just a silly fan with a silly crush. What would I say to him if I were to meet him tomorrow? Hey, love your music, your words, your voice, you? Nah, he gets that all the time.

I'd love to sit him down for just an hour with some coffee...and perhaps some apple pie, we'd chat and just shoot the shit. We could talk music, or not. We might learn that we both find the idea of pie very strange, but just can't resist the french apple kind, especially if its a la mode. We'd become great friends, I'd be invited to all the shows, even the ones in dublin. He'd soon realize that he has a professional whistler right under his nose so why isn't he using her to maximum capacity? I'd mull over the opportunity to tour with his band, just like I mull over everything else fantastic that happens in my life (why should he be any different right?). I'd weigh the pros and cons, and come to the decision that, aside from my fascination for anything livable and mobile ie, RVs, planes, trains, large tour busses, etc, that yes, I would rather like to tour with him and his band across the world.

And that, my dear reader, is what I think about amidst hours upon hours of holiday traffic.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?? #003

I can't believe this! The OC has betrayed me!! (the show, not the county...at least not yet.)

Why would The OC hurt me like this? They made a reference to my favorite radio show of all time, This American Life, and then totally bagged on it. It's like...unwrapping a gift, and then immediately throwing it into the trash. That's what it's like.

"Is that the show where they make boring people interesting?" For real? I can't believe... One of the writers there must have something against Ira Glass. I wonder if he knows. I wonder if he watched the show tonight and cried. Well, probably not. Ira probably wouldn't be caught watching such a show. (or maybe he would?) But why would they do such a thing? I mean...to even refer to it, the way they've done with other hot topics in popular culture...is TAL suppose to be grateful that The OC is bringing attention to their show? Only to be made fun of by the cuter and cooler couple of The OC? Geez.

Good grief Charlie Brown. What kind of monster has television become?????????

Starting today, I will begin a series of investigative blogs called, ARE YOU KIDDING ME?? Entries will delve into the moronic and idiotic people, places, and things that I happen to come across throughout the day. And now, ladies and gentlemen,

ARE YOU KIDDING ME? #001

UPN News in Los Angeles...is it really "news"? Or just a clever covered up version of shows like Hardcopy and Entertainment Tonight in disguise?

Tonight, I happened to catch my first UPN News broadcast. Their opening act was a string of short 10 second clips featuring what will be covered on their upcoming news broadcast. I can't remember all the clips right now, I just remember thinking, "This is the news??"

ARE YOU KIDDING ME??

Second act: The broadcast begins.
They begin their top story with, not the bombing in Jordan that killed 50+ people, not Arnold and his failed propositions, but with Paris Hilton. PARIS HILTON??

Are you kidding me?

The story is as follows: The paparazzi follow Paris and her boyfriend and friends out of a Hollywood nightclub into their beamer, or porsche, or whatever crazy expensive car, and while trying to get away, the boyfriend rams his car into the back of a truck, then speeds away. Minutes later, they are stopped by police, and Paris is shown getting back into the car with her friends, saying to the cop as she walked away, "Thank you! I love the police!" All this, of course, is caught on paparrazi cameras. So, UPN investigates, shows a police deputy the tape, and asks whether Paris and her friends got special treatment, because they were obviously not sober. The story continues with the deputy sticking up for the cops, and blah blah blah. This story lasted, SERIOUSLY, for about 4-5 minutes. This might not seem like a long time, but just keep in mind, most news stories (live coverage not included) lasts about 1-2minutes...if they're lucky. Paris got 4, and was considered the top story on the 11pm news. Ugh.

Second story, which lasted another 3 minutes, was about 50cent's new movie, and the controversy surrounding it. Really now, is this real news? Hosted by a really hot anchor woman who once hosted "So you think you can dance?" This is why Hollywood gets such a bad rep I tell ya. I guess there's no need to miss the awful news in San Diego, I can just tune in to UPN News at 11.

As disappointing as his albums may be, Jason Mraz ALWAYS puts on an awesome live show. Just awesome. Plus he really knows how to make da ladies swoon. That really comes in handy when you're a rock star. When I become a rock star, I'm going to make the boys, the girls, AND yo mama swoon. I don't know how yet though, I need to find my schtick. Everyone's got a schtick. Jason's got his hat. Plus he's just really cute. No matter how geeky he is. THAT could be his schtick too. I thought the whole geek thing was just an act, yknow, I thought that doing the whole self proclaimed geek thing actually makes you cooler, thus making you not so much a geek. But it turns out he really IS a geek. It's like reverse reverse reverse psychology....or something like that.

Oh! I think I just found my schtick. But I'll have to keep it underwraps til after my rockstar-dom.

Rock on,
Rock out,
Just ROCK.

I just realized that you can't have coffee when you're pregnant. This realization came from learning that you can't have caffeine while pregnant.

WHAT?!

Which doctor made that rule? I'm sure fetuses (pl: feti?) need a little jump start to their mornings too. It can get a little *yawn* in that position after a while, yknow? They just need a little kick, just like the rest of us. I'm currently reliving the "No coffee" number from How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying in my head. Aw...I miss the musical. Just like I will miss coffee...

No, that won't do at all.

On an unrelated topic, I think my bladder has shrunk. Every morning at 5am, like clockwork, I'll have to get up and pee. This didn't happen before! I used to be able to sleep a solid 8 hours without having to get up and pee. It really messes with my sleep, having to get up for those 3 minutes. I'm in the REM cycle, I'm out to pee, I'm back in the cycle, and I already have to wake up. I blame my bladder for my time at the NIKE run this year. If I didn't have to pee everytime I started running, I probably would have made a better time. Which is what I'm telling myself for losing steve. Ha. But it's true steve.

In closing: I'm on a mission...the specifics of which will be revealed at a later date.