It’s silly, but it makes me really proud to be from EP. El Paso is badass. We are badass. Sure, it has its problems, but there’s no other place I’d rather be from. Not even San Fran.
3.21.2008
UTEP
In other news, my green UTEP sweatshirt caused quite a commotion on Columbia Street today. I’m exaggerating, but three people pointed it out, and I even had a conversation with someone about UTEP playing in the big dance.
It’s silly, but it makes me really proud to be from EP. El Paso is badass. We are badass. Sure, it has its problems, but there’s no other place I’d rather be from. Not even San Fran.
It’s silly, but it makes me really proud to be from EP. El Paso is badass. We are badass. Sure, it has its problems, but there’s no other place I’d rather be from. Not even San Fran.
The end of an era
This is probably my favorite picture of all time. It is perfection. This picture, these people, made me who I am now. I'll never stop being nostalgic about what thus far I consider to be the happiest time in my life. I remember staying up all night talking about Comandate Marcos, and Grisel possibly running away with his caravana; Dark rooms, white rabbit, sitting indian style in a circle, apple sour vodka--my life better than I had ever imagined. Other than Drew (perfection all on his own), who is missing from the picture, there's no other three people that I have shared more with in my adult life (post 22-years). Perfection... perfection.
3.20.2008
Sophia
I am convinced Sophia Loren seduced the entire world because of her breasts. At least that's what the biography I'm reading about her suggests. Her features somewhat bird-like to me, but I can't help but like her either way. One so be so lucky as to have those boobs at 70.
Target
The new Target inside DC city limits opened in Columbia Heights a few weeks ago. The two story wonder has an escalator for carts alone. Need to get from floor to floor? Load your cart on the cart escalator wedged between the human ones. Target is my favorite place.
From Follows Function
I meant to write a lot of things about my lone weekend, but as always I lose focus. I have four days of work left. A pending obit on Sophia Loren (she’s not dead yet) and a story idea given to me by the second coolest lady at the bureau (Lisa; Laurie is first). To be honest I just want to go home. Sometimes I don’t know what I could sacrifice for a career. The list is shrinking. I wish Ivan & Marjon were my fellow interns in DC. If that was the case, I think I would have never gone home.
But anyway, this weekend all did was wander down to the national mall both days. There’s an ass ton of museums. Too many to really go through even if you lived here for a year. The first was the Smithsonian Hirshhorn Museum of Modern Art, and the second was the National Gallery of Art. Both were pretty bad ass, I think, but I like those wacky contemporary museums better. Only because I don’t know enough about art to appreciate the good stuff.
"Criollo" by Edgar Orlaineta. Mexico.
At first I didn't even notice the bicycle attached to the back, but seeing a Breuer homage made me happy. One day I will own a Wassily chair. To be honest, I don't even know that much about Bauhaus, but the little that I do know brings fond memories about my past.
Alexander Calder
This weekend I also fell in love with Alexander Calder. His mobiles were in the Hirshhorn and the National Gallery of Art. The Hirshhorn had a small exhibit, but the latter had giant mobiles on the ground level of the east wing. Even the shadows cast by his mobiles were interesting.
On Saturday when I was sitting on the steps of the gallery, this couple asked me if I would take a photo of them with the capitol building in the background. We got to chit chat, and turns out they're FROM EL PASO!!!! It really made my day. Out of all of the people in the universe that could have walked by the steps of the national gallery of art, at all times, on every weekend, the ones that talk to me are from home. I love it EP. It saves every time I need it to.
EP Friends!
This one is long enough already. The end!
But anyway, this weekend all did was wander down to the national mall both days. There’s an ass ton of museums. Too many to really go through even if you lived here for a year. The first was the Smithsonian Hirshhorn Museum of Modern Art, and the second was the National Gallery of Art. Both were pretty bad ass, I think, but I like those wacky contemporary museums better. Only because I don’t know enough about art to appreciate the good stuff.
At first I didn't even notice the bicycle attached to the back, but seeing a Breuer homage made me happy. One day I will own a Wassily chair. To be honest, I don't even know that much about Bauhaus, but the little that I do know brings fond memories about my past.
This weekend I also fell in love with Alexander Calder. His mobiles were in the Hirshhorn and the National Gallery of Art. The Hirshhorn had a small exhibit, but the latter had giant mobiles on the ground level of the east wing. Even the shadows cast by his mobiles were interesting.
On Saturday when I was sitting on the steps of the gallery, this couple asked me if I would take a photo of them with the capitol building in the background. We got to chit chat, and turns out they're FROM EL PASO!!!! It really made my day. Out of all of the people in the universe that could have walked by the steps of the national gallery of art, at all times, on every weekend, the ones that talk to me are from home. I love it EP. It saves every time I need it to.
This one is long enough already. The end!
3.11.2008
La Oscuridad
So we had a several hour localized blackout last night and it really scared me. I had visions of death, like usual. Not quite violent, just me lying under a pile of rubbish unable to warn my family of my impending death since I couldn't get signal in the building, or call someone I really really love and confess my undying devotion. (I don't know who that phone call would be to yet. With my luck, I'm sure they wouldn't answer).
I only have one window in my apartment which light occasionally seeps into. Since the power around the neighborhood was also down, my room was pitch black. All I had was my cell phone to brighten my way. Anyway, I just went to bed. I am convinced that I have some sort of magnetic energy that disables alarm clocks on cell phones. It didn't ring. It never rings. Unless, I managed to get through pressing snooze six times and I just don't remember. Thankfully, I woke up on my own at 8:30 a.m. --just enough time to continue lying in bed, brush my teeth, and run to work. On another note, I've noticed that I start a lot of my sentences with so.
Last night we also attended a Kalb Report session with Christiane Amanpour.
I guess that was supposed to be the interesting part of the evening, but I lost focus towards the end and was more entertained by the map Jonna was drawing. I think we forgot about Kansas. Maybe. Maybe not. Amanpour was cool, but it made me realize even more that I'm not about the news. I would never put my life in danger, nor my family's life in danger to get a story out. I certainly respect the people who do, but it's just not in me. A noble profession? Meh. I want to write about funny entertaining things. So what if I'm a hedonist? So what! I want sunshine, culture, happiness, travel, music, Mexicans. War?? Leave that to the noblest of journalists to cover, not me.
I only have one window in my apartment which light occasionally seeps into. Since the power around the neighborhood was also down, my room was pitch black. All I had was my cell phone to brighten my way. Anyway, I just went to bed. I am convinced that I have some sort of magnetic energy that disables alarm clocks on cell phones. It didn't ring. It never rings. Unless, I managed to get through pressing snooze six times and I just don't remember. Thankfully, I woke up on my own at 8:30 a.m. --just enough time to continue lying in bed, brush my teeth, and run to work. On another note, I've noticed that I start a lot of my sentences with so.
Last night we also attended a Kalb Report session with Christiane Amanpour.
I guess that was supposed to be the interesting part of the evening, but I lost focus towards the end and was more entertained by the map Jonna was drawing. I think we forgot about Kansas. Maybe. Maybe not. Amanpour was cool, but it made me realize even more that I'm not about the news. I would never put my life in danger, nor my family's life in danger to get a story out. I certainly respect the people who do, but it's just not in me. A noble profession? Meh. I want to write about funny entertaining things. So what if I'm a hedonist? So what! I want sunshine, culture, happiness, travel, music, Mexicans. War?? Leave that to the noblest of journalists to cover, not me.
3.09.2008
I had survived a war, but a banal love story almost killed me
I took a mini excursion to the monuments with Jonna today. I was too lazy to walk or wait an hour catching metros to get back home. Damn you, WMATA. Why must you always be sharing tracks on weekends? WMATA has single handedly ruined every weekend since President’s Day. The cab we caught home was the best ever though. EVER.
The driver was Eritrean and he had the most awesome menagerie covering every inch of the rear deck of his car. I went into stealth mode and tried to take a couple snapshots of the zoo in all its glory. I managed to get one.
Then I went down to Open City and bought takeout lunch. I hate not knowing how to cook anything but rice. I miss my mommie’s food. Open city is nice. Though I am a roll solo at shows and movies expert, I still have restaurants to conquer.
After lunch I got depressingly bored, so I went to see Persepolis at E Street Cinema.
I really liked it. The animation was really awesome, the score/soundtrack was great, and the writing was witty. The opening sequence seemed woodcutish to me. My favorite line was “I had survived a war. But a banal love story almost killed me.” I’m a sucker for banal love stories. But I’m sure you can read all about Persepolis somewhere else.
On the way out I could hear the score to There Will Be Blood playing in another theater. I wanted to sneak back in to catch any part of the movie. I should have.
Tomorrow I go back to work. Sigh. Not looking forward to it. Oh well. At least WMATA will stop acting a fool, and I can shop at Target. Oh, Target. You will return my sanity. I know it!
The driver was Eritrean and he had the most awesome menagerie covering every inch of the rear deck of his car. I went into stealth mode and tried to take a couple snapshots of the zoo in all its glory. I managed to get one.
Then I went down to Open City and bought takeout lunch. I hate not knowing how to cook anything but rice. I miss my mommie’s food. Open city is nice. Though I am a roll solo at shows and movies expert, I still have restaurants to conquer.
After lunch I got depressingly bored, so I went to see Persepolis at E Street Cinema.
I really liked it. The animation was really awesome, the score/soundtrack was great, and the writing was witty. The opening sequence seemed woodcutish to me. My favorite line was “I had survived a war. But a banal love story almost killed me.” I’m a sucker for banal love stories. But I’m sure you can read all about Persepolis somewhere else.
On the way out I could hear the score to There Will Be Blood playing in another theater. I wanted to sneak back in to catch any part of the movie. I should have.
Tomorrow I go back to work. Sigh. Not looking forward to it. Oh well. At least WMATA will stop acting a fool, and I can shop at Target. Oh, Target. You will return my sanity. I know it!
3.08.2008
[St.] Vincent: I hope your open light is blinking still
Annie Clark has to be one of the most adorable singers I've ever seen. Her giant eyes and curly brown hair made me want to hug her, if not be her. No wonder she had a pack of dirty scene kids in awe of her every move. One dirty scene kid in particular, who pushed his way in front of me to drool a little closer, smelled like weed and licorice wrapped in cellophane. Don't ask, but that's what I smelled. It was not pleasant.
Annie Clark was somewhat reminiscent of Regina Spektor, but less dorky, and less sweet. I was still excited to see them though. I like the intimacy of small shows. And sorry, Jonna, about the front and center and deafness thing! I tend to want to be in the front row to every show I go to. I'm greedy like that.
I didn't get to hear Paris is Burning, which bummed me out a little, but she did play a bad ass cover of Dig A Pony which I have been obsessing over ever since.
Here are some clips. Same warning about the three minute mark applies.
Jesus Saves, I Spend
Wet, cold, American internship
Since my party outings are limited – I still haven’t quite gotten comfortable with the idea of going to a bar alone (I envy people who can), I decided to find some shows to go to in our nation’s capital. Though I could have been going to a lot more, fuck you Justice and Wilco for selling out, the three shows I have been to have been well worth it.
The first was Michael Ian Black & Michael Showalter. It was too long ago for me to remember really what happened, but it was at this historic synagogue close to Chinatown with a beautiful blue and gold dome inside.
I think I liked Michael Showalter better than Mr. Black. My recent addiction to Facebook Scrabulous made Showalter’s closing skit on Scrabble funnier than it probably was.
Anyway, it was my second weekend in the city, and it felt good to laugh again. I missed Drew though. I know he would have thought it was just as funny as I did. We both have that ridiculous yet cynical sense of humor, albeit, his is even more disturbing than mine.
Here are three clips that I took:
Michael Ian Black reading from his new book, My Custom Van:
Michael Showalter's Scrabble bit in two pieces:
By the way, at about 3 minutes, my digital camera acts a fool and scrambles the sound on whatever it's recording, and the audio is always out of sync. Sorry. My next investment will be for a better camera. Maybe even a camcorder. Hmmm...
The first was Michael Ian Black & Michael Showalter. It was too long ago for me to remember really what happened, but it was at this historic synagogue close to Chinatown with a beautiful blue and gold dome inside.
I think I liked Michael Showalter better than Mr. Black. My recent addiction to Facebook Scrabulous made Showalter’s closing skit on Scrabble funnier than it probably was.
Anyway, it was my second weekend in the city, and it felt good to laugh again. I missed Drew though. I know he would have thought it was just as funny as I did. We both have that ridiculous yet cynical sense of humor, albeit, his is even more disturbing than mine.
Here are three clips that I took:
Michael Ian Black reading from his new book, My Custom Van:
Michael Showalter's Scrabble bit in two pieces:
By the way, at about 3 minutes, my digital camera acts a fool and scrambles the sound on whatever it's recording, and the audio is always out of sync. Sorry. My next investment will be for a better camera. Maybe even a camcorder. Hmmm...
3.07.2008
The fast track
[So Jonna's blog inspired me to want to keep this blog thing up for real. At the very least, it will keep me writing. Because since I was in 4th grade, all I've ever wanted to do was write. Cheesy, I know. I'm not even that good. Or rather, I'm not good. I don't know the mechanics of English grammar, nor I am eloquently detailed. I just like to rant, and I'm occasionally I'm funny.]
This is Jonna! She's cool!
------
So this next three weeks I have to experience D.C. on the fast track.
I was telling Ben the other day that to me, everything is matter of time. Though I knew this internship for me was bittersweet from the beginning (leaving what I thought was a hopeful relationship, but I was wrong, and returning to a field of work that exhausted and made me hate my life for a year) I always tried to tell myself that no matter what I was living in D.C. free of charge. Who else gets that?
It just always seems that opportunities come up when I don't want to leave El Paso and I don't what to leave whatever I have going on at the moment. When I have everything to lose and change means sacrificing the small shred of sanity and normalcy and happiness I'd managed to keep in my life for more than 30 seconds. Why is it that every time I feel anxious to do anything and go anywhere... I'm trapped? No place to go. Stuck in the fucking dirt box that El Paso can be sometimes.
But anyway... back to the time thing. It's all a matter of time. You have to have a certain amount of familiarity and comfort to feel content in life. Internships are kind of shitty in that sense, since by the time you feel like you're finally getting the hang of things, and you stop missing home and come to grips with your solitude, it's time to move on again.
Two months is really too short. In three weeks I'll be back in El Paso. But it's taken me this long to feel like I could really make it here, that I could be successful. That I could survive in a city that can seem so cold and brash. I just needed more time.
Before this I was too gripped with insecurity and nostalgia and fear and frustration and disillusionment and the whole fucking world crumbling in front of me, that it took me seven weeks to simply regain myself identity. It would probably take me seven more to feel comfortable at work. Maybe three more to muster up the courage to ask some real questions. What can I say, I'm a slow person. I have short stumpy legs. I can't help it.
By the way, ever since Daniel & David (their graphic design talk) and InDesign, I think things without pictures of boring. Who wants to read a giant block of text?? NOBODY! So here's a picture of Jonna and Jenn at Mr. Chen's Organic Chinese Cuisine. Mmmm... Mr. Chen's. There will be a Mr. Chen's video, in which I sound like a total retard, posted shortly.
This is Jonna! She's cool!
------
So this next three weeks I have to experience D.C. on the fast track.
I was telling Ben the other day that to me, everything is matter of time. Though I knew this internship for me was bittersweet from the beginning (leaving what I thought was a hopeful relationship, but I was wrong, and returning to a field of work that exhausted and made me hate my life for a year) I always tried to tell myself that no matter what I was living in D.C. free of charge. Who else gets that?
It just always seems that opportunities come up when I don't want to leave El Paso and I don't what to leave whatever I have going on at the moment. When I have everything to lose and change means sacrificing the small shred of sanity and normalcy and happiness I'd managed to keep in my life for more than 30 seconds. Why is it that every time I feel anxious to do anything and go anywhere... I'm trapped? No place to go. Stuck in the fucking dirt box that El Paso can be sometimes.
But anyway... back to the time thing. It's all a matter of time. You have to have a certain amount of familiarity and comfort to feel content in life. Internships are kind of shitty in that sense, since by the time you feel like you're finally getting the hang of things, and you stop missing home and come to grips with your solitude, it's time to move on again.
Two months is really too short. In three weeks I'll be back in El Paso. But it's taken me this long to feel like I could really make it here, that I could be successful. That I could survive in a city that can seem so cold and brash. I just needed more time.
Before this I was too gripped with insecurity and nostalgia and fear and frustration and disillusionment and the whole fucking world crumbling in front of me, that it took me seven weeks to simply regain myself identity. It would probably take me seven more to feel comfortable at work. Maybe three more to muster up the courage to ask some real questions. What can I say, I'm a slow person. I have short stumpy legs. I can't help it.
By the way, ever since Daniel & David (their graphic design talk) and InDesign, I think things without pictures of boring. Who wants to read a giant block of text?? NOBODY! So here's a picture of Jonna and Jenn at Mr. Chen's Organic Chinese Cuisine. Mmmm... Mr. Chen's. There will be a Mr. Chen's video, in which I sound like a total retard, posted shortly.
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