For RM, the cookie man

No need for making this all prim and proper.

I'm not sure how the whole not worrying thing works, I seldom do it. I understand it's something you must do and that you are ready and confident. Odds say there's nothing to worry about. But I am sad and I am worried. It's a whole year. I feel silly tearing up. But I'm silly.

Is it reasonable for me to feel this way? Probably not. But I look at them and I look at you, and my heart aches for all 3 of you. For what you leave behind, for what they will miss.

I'll miss you too. I'll worry too. I'll wait too. Be safe. God Bless.

May I Lick Your Spatula?

Nor.mal (nôrml)

adj.

1. Conforming with, adhering to, or constituting a norm, standard, pattern, level, or type; typical:

2. free from mental or physical disorder.

I think it's safe to say, I - Yari - am not normal.

My favorite joke? "What did the grape do when it got stepped on? - It let out a little whine" (and I'm seriously giggling myself silly just typing that).

My favorite passtime as a kid? Extra credit homework or pretending I was an anchorwoman doing the evening news (Hey everybody! Come see how good I look!). My top news? The neighbor's bra stolen from her clothes line.

I always loved liver and onions.

While my friends played with Barbie dolls, I was elbow deep in mud puddles and playing with Micro Machines.

I did a research project on marijuana, it's effects and how it lead into heavier drug use with time at the age of 9. I went to halfway houses, rehab homes and prisions and interviewed shady peeps. It won 1st place in the science fair, nationally, all ages (up to high school). I did it all myself, with only my dad driving me places and being with me in prison cells in case someone decided to make me their bitch. I picked the topic and refused to do another 'how fast does a bean sprout' project.

Ok, so I did have Barbie dolls...but they were always naked and you do NOT wanna know what I did with them. On a related note: My Ken doll lost its head due to an unfortunate 'throwing him off the roof because he's Superman' fiasco. My dad got a dried walnut from the floor, made two holes in its shell and put two pearl head pins as eyes. Yeah, whatever horrific picture you just got, that was my Ken until I was about 11.

My right eyebrow stopped growing one year when I plucked it too thin...now I have to pencil a bit of it in or I'll look like a boxer with a scar on it's eyebrow. (pretty cool car story if you're friends are drunk enough).

I talk and laugh in my sleep...and apparently not a small giggle or a word or two. No I have full conversations and bust out laughing (often giving people a heart attack in the middle of the night).

What's so fun about being normal anyways? About doing what is socially acceptable and speaking about safe subjects? Since when did it become 'weird' to say "oh, im a girl and i like boobs"? I'm comfortable enough in my own sexuality that it's okay for me to admire another chick's rack. Am I a perv? Pfft, totally. But I'm a decent perv, an honorable one, a hard working - law abiding - artistic perv.

Do I make people wonder if I'm sane somet...most of the time? Yes. I'm actually considered a nutcase by my closest friends...what kind of hope those that give me about the rest of society?!

Maybe I should stop wearing my underwear over my clothes when I go out. I should, probably, also remove the "Honk If You Have Three Penises" bumpersticker from my car. Sure, licking strangers waiting in line at the bank is questionable behaviour. But dammit this is America, and if Chastity Bono can get a sex change and expect to wake up and be Chaz to everyone one morning...why can't I eat an oreo cakester while water my front yard dirt patch naked on a starry night?

Thank you.

"I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity." - Edgar Allan Poe

The Reason

There is no answer. The sooner one gets this to sink in, the sooner moving on can begin.

It's human nature, no matter how hard we try to walk the right path and be good people, to tend to hide certain parts of us. Most of the time it's out of self-preservation. Sometimes we lie to avoid punishment for something we know we did wrong. We lie to prevent humiliation, when we feel what we are is not exactly what the other person wants. Maybe the lies are to create an alternate reality to our life, to enhance our social status. All understandable, we all feel we need to embellish the truth sometimes...but what when someone believes the lie? When someone falls for the snare? The snowball begins. It would've been so easy to lay the cards on the table from the beginning. Now you're stuck in something that has the potential of not only backfiring but also hurting someone that got stuck between your ego boost and the calculated steps you took to get to it.

There's always two sides to every ending. What is your side? How do you justify your lies...or half truths...or empty promises? In the end all three of those are lies. In the end, we all go through the same phase. Why.

What a word. Why. Why did he/she do this? Why doesn't he/she see deeply I feel? Why am I not good enough? Why did this happen? Bloody word. It drives us out of our senses for a while. I have yet to find another person that has gone through somewhat what I have gone through when it comes to relationships, that hasn't felt like it was something they did. That it hasn't shattered their self esteem. Yes, blah blah, we're at this whole letting go thing again.

We question, we ache and one day, it clicks. There is no answer to the why. Your lucky if you even get a sorry...but there is no answer to lies. Unless it's another lie, another denial.

We're all liars. We're all lied to. The reasons are the same, given a tweak here or there depending on the author and the purpose. "Why" will eat at you. Answer it yourself. It always happens for a reason, and that's as good an answer as anyone will come up with. It's not something you did, it's not punishment, it simply is. Stop asking. Stop waiting for the explanation. Get ready for the next 'why' coming your way.

"He who has a why to live can bear almost any how" - Friedrich Nietzsche

Fistful of Assholes

This is a small break that my mind is taking. I've been working way too much this week. I also started guitar lessons yesterday, that went really good. I love the guys!

Lots of people seem to have dropped away from my life. Can't really blame them, so, *shrug* I'm dedicating today to shutting down to neutral. To forgiving. To letting go even more of those who i was barely hanging on to.

I'm in the middle of reading The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman, and with every page I turn the better it makes me feel, from the inside out. Last night I also watched "Nick & Norah's Infinite Playlist", which to my delight, was not as bad as I thought it was going to be. It made me sad, then again what doesn't these days. It made me miss my gay friends, it made me miss the east coast and hanging out in Jersey and NYC late at night looking for stuff to do. It made me miss...the journey of the heart. Good flick, quite a few laughs.

I think I might have an ulcer, since very day my stomach is getting worse and worse. I'm trying to postpone the doctor visit till I have enough cash to pay for my visit. I also tried making Portuguese rice last night and it came out excellent. NOM NOM NOM.

Now I'll resume Saturday and may come back later tonight. Depends on the muse. Depends on my nap. Depends...on how you look at it.

Take the light, undarken everything around me
Call the clowns and listen closely, i'm lost without you
Call your name every day when i feel so helpless
I'm fallin' down but i'll rise above this, rise above this

Hate the mind, regrets are better left unspoken
For all we know, this void will grow and
Everything's in vain, distressing you though it leaves me open
Feels so right, but i'll end this all before it gets me

I'll mend myself before it gets me
(i'll mend myself before it gets me)
I'll mend myself before it gets me
(i'll mend myself before it gets me)

Call your name every day, when i feel so helpless
I'm fallin' down, but i'll rise above this, rise above this
Forty eight ways to say that i'm feelin' helpless
Fallin' down, fallin down', but i'll rise above this, rise above this.
- Seether

DJ to the rescue!

My sister, DJ, has posted a remarkable reply to my "Remember...Remember the 6th of December" blog...and what can I say but: I am moved, I am ready, and thank you from the bottom of my heart. Light for you, DJ...always Light and love for you.

xoxo,
Plooky

DEAR READERS. HAVE A READ AT HER BLOG REPLY TO MINE. REGARDLESS OF YOUR BELIEFS, YOU WILL FIND SOMETHING FOR EVERYONE.

"DARK NIGHT OF THE SOUL" - BY DAISY JAY

Lunch is for wusses...

I've been working here for almost 6 years now. From the beginning, I've had the same schedule on Fridays, which is work through lunch and get out early at 2 p.m.

You'd think in all this time I would remember how hungry I get at around 12:30 p.m. and that, every time I say..."I gotta pack lunch tomorrow, we work through". No. Not me. Here I am seeing everyone around me leaving for lunch with greedy little eyes and licking their lips thinking of the feast they're about to NOM NOM.

It's okay, I'll chew on my lip for a while and drink another glass of water.

"Why does SeaWorld have a seafood restaurant?? I'm halfway through my fish burger and I realize, Oh My God...I could be eating a slow learner!" - Lynda Montgomery

Remember...remember, the 6th of December

Today feels more like fall, summer's running away begrudglingly.

Granted, in Texas fall still means warmth, sunny...but breeze settling in and no 100F+ heat beating down on you. Things sort of slow down a bit, even though the new school year starts and swarms of doe-eyed freshmen wander around trying desperately to sort out from the beginning where they fit in on the social scale. I look at some of them and see myself, thinking "good luck, you're gonna need it"...knowing they don't stand a chance against Camaro Ken or Hummer Barbi over there.

I started feeling it about 4 or 5 days ago. This overwhelming sadness, dissillusionment, no ... energy to face anything or anyone. Sleeping pattern is all distorted, which is why I'm probably feeling so drained. It always happens when autumn and winter arrive. I spend those months feeling melancholic over any little reason. Last winter was brutal on me, I thought I would never snap out of it. I didn't feel like eating, smiling...drank a bit more than I should've...no sleep. That's what's beginning to happen again, though I'm really trying to focus on changing it or at least delaying it this year. But it's nothing new. I've been this way since grandma died on Dec 6, when I was 12.

Every year after that it seems the holiday season makes me miss her or makes me feel lonely. Life goes on, people are born and die. We all keep on trudging along. There's something about the cold air hitting me, the holiday decorations, families spending time together, the beauty of seeing nature lay dormant till spring that makes me both love Oct - Mar and feel sad at the same time. Everyone goes through the winter blues at some point I guess, but after 13 years, shouldn't I at least get used to the fact that some things will never return? I miss her dearly, life seemed safer. It was just a random sequence of events that began after she passed that had me wondering "sheesh does it get any worse?!", and the next year it would, in fact be worse.

I'm not a kid anymore. My problems and memories are neither better nor worse than anyone elses. What I do with my life and what happens to me is solely my doing, no sense in blaming anything or anybody for it. I already feel it, the dead feeling creeping in. I already despise my cell phone. I'm already not returning emails. I tend to be dead to the world in winter and curl up in my cocoon. I have friends this year, that's a plus. But will my 'mehness' drive them away? Will they stand by my side? Will I put the extra effort? I'm trying.

It just started way too early this year. I wasn't ready for the pang to hit until maybe October...November. December. It's always worse in December.

We wear our scarves just like a noose

But not 'cause we want eternal sleep

And though our parts are slightly used

New ones are slave labor you can keep

We're living in a den of thieves

Rummaging for answers in the pages

We're living in a den of thieves

-Regina Spektor

And Now A Brief Word From Our Sponsors...

When words are scarce they are seldom spent in vain. For they breathe truth that breathe their words in pain. - Shakespeare

Facebook something...

So I was tagged on facebook to do this 25 random facts about me thing...I did it and decided to share it with my blog people because, one can never know too much about Yari.

1. I actually despise Facebook.

2. My favorite color is red, tho if you ask me I'll say purple.

3. Atlanta Braves have been my favorite baseball team since I was...11. Before that it was the Blue Jays.

4. I am an only child.

5. I collect 3 things: monopoly boardgames, converse shoes and guitars.

6. I taught myself how to play guitar, first song I taught myself was Round Here by Counting Crows.

7. Yeah, I <3 Counting Crows.

8. In July, 2002...I went with my bff Shante to see Metallica at Vet's Stadium in Philly. It was unforgettable.

9. My first car was a 1992 Ford Probe. I got it in 2003 as a gift from dad. I wrapped it around a pole one winter season.

10. I have a morbid fear of: insects, the dark and heights.

11. I can handle my drink. A lot. I'm not boasting, I actually can hang.

12. I broke my both my ankles when I was 14...the whole year, several times. This is the year I also found out skateboarding wasn't for me.

13. Llamas & Seals are my favorite animals.

14. I've had the same recurring nightmare every other 3-4 nights since I was 7 yrs old.

15. I count things in my head. How many steps I take, how many tiles on a wall, how many gulps of water, how many leaves on a branch, how many links in a chain...you get the point.

16. My favorite food is anything involving chicken. Preferably also Italian.

17. I'm allergic to grapes or anything grape flavored.

18. I was born and lived in Puerto Rico until I was 16. I miss it every day...all day.

19. I suck my thumb when I'm sad or to go to sleep. Yes. Laugh.

20. I drove 17 hours from TX to Los Angeles, CA...hung out with friends for 2 days...then drove 17 hours back.

21. I can quote my three favorite movies in a heartbeat: Anchorman, Jaws and Three Amigos.

22. In case of an emergency, I would tweet said emergency, then blog it...before finally dialing 9-1-1. (@wolffgang can attest to this)

23. I've met amazing people online that I never thought I'd love as deeply as I do. Most of them are tagged here.

24. When I was 15 or 16 and still in PR...I punched a guy I'd had a crush on for years. It's the only time I've hit anyone.

25. If given these options: A)Make up, New shoes, New hairsyle, Shopping spree, fancy romantic dinner vs. B) Chilling in a living room, playing guitar, drinking beer in jeans, converse while watching a good flick (NON CHICK ONE)...id pick B. Hands down.

She's blood, flesh and bone No tucks or silicone She's touch, smell, sight, taste and sound - Tal Bachman

Predictable? Hardly.

Endless circles, cycles...paths to nowhere certain.

How much can someone take? Of day in and day out predictability...of life passing by...ever changing and staying utterly the same in a basic level. In a blink, a new week starts - a week has passed. A year older.

Growing up you are fed the 'you can be anything you want to be' pill one too many times. At least in my childhood, cartoons enforced heroism and being grander than life. Do your best, you will be rewarded with the best. Give your biggest effort, people will notice and be grateful. Turn the other cheek when someone does you wrong, be the bigger person. Work hard, so you can play hard.

Last night I felt myself at the edge of either breaking down or going on a rampage. I had to go out for a drive. You know when you think of everything and nothing at once? I did that while I drove around. Where am I going in life? Why am I not as happy as everyone says I 'should' be? Life is not bad. No. Not at all. I'm very aware I have many things others wish they had. I suppose it is human nature to sort of never appreciate what one has. But...life. How predictable. How random. So, I get home from my drive and I feel like a zombie. I'm thinking about everyone at once. Missing everyone from my dead grandma (it's gonna be 14 yrs this year) to people I've never met...to people I see every day. How can one be surrounded and feel alone? How can one talk so much yet feel it was just empty words, no communication?

I lit a jar candle, black cherry scent, in my tiny restroom...the light bounced the white walls and for a second it reminded me of the days after a hurricane in Puerto Rico. The evening would be hot, sweaty...everything done by candlelight and in absence of t.v. or radios blasting in the background. Something peaceful came over me, everything moved in slow motion almost. I undressed in the dark, just looking at the flame of the candle dancing as the air displaced by my movements hit it. It flickered, threatened to die down...then settled into a straight flame. I avoided looking at myself in the mirror in the orange light...and slid in the shower.

The cold water hit me, the silence filling me and I found my mood changing from nostalgia and melancholy to acceptance. I felt the cold water run through my hair, washing away the filth of a long day, washing away the crap at work I put with, washing away the heaviness on my shoulders and a few names off my brain. The scent of my TeaTree and Coconut shampoo floated in the air, followed by my passion fruit conditioner. As I ran my fingers through my hair, there was more on my hand than on my head it seems. My hair keeps falling out...but I didn't let it scare me. I kept taking my 'get-rid-of-evil' bath. Eventually I decided I was squeaky clean enough and after thoroughly drying myself, this time I faced the bathroom mirror. Somehow more confident, or slightly dead inside, same thing. I made myself look at my body. This was the body of a 25 year old diabetic, always chunky, too white to look puerto rican Yari. I studied the freckles on my cheeks....and on my chest. I turned around and looked at my thighs, far from beautiful. I keep losing weight, yet I'm not dieting...not good. I'm getting sicker. I wiggled my toes and they felt numb. When am I accepting I have a serious illness? I combed my hair in an almost robotic manner. I looked beautiful and sad in the candlelight.

I slid on an oversized football jersey and some boyshorts, a black pair of socks. I wasn't a Victoria's Secret model with the sexy lingerie, but I made my undies look good. I made my jersey look spectacular. My hair, wet and disheveled, falling on my face, made me look like a tease. I'm not a porn star, but I am Yari. I felt sexy. I wasn't thinking of those who didn't want me in the past. As I stood in the kitchen at 3 am making lunch for the next day, in my gigantic jersey with no pants on, leaning slightly on the counter I sort of saw myself from other eyes. This girl...this girl. Look at her. Smell her. She smells of island and fruits, her hair is tangled and seductive, her latin curves hidden under this jersey! She likes sports! She takes care of her loved ones! She works hard, and parties harder...but never in a tasteless manner. She's plays guitar and loves loud fast music...she writes...she learns...she loves.

I felt beautiful. I felt clean...and then the AC froze in the bedroom and I sweat my tits off all night and woke up with bed head. I should go shower again...*brings candle*

I'm in the room, its a typical Tuesday night
I'm listening to the kind of music she doesnt like
And she'll never know your story like I do

But she wears short skirts, I wear t-shirts
She's cheer captain and I'm on the bleachers
Dreaming bout the day when you'll wake up and find
That what you're lookin for has been here the whole time
- Taylor Swift

Don't Turn Off The Light, Dad

"BEEP BEEP Richie! They ALL float down here. When you're down here with us, you'll float too!" - It

"I'm pleased and happy to repeat the news that we have, in fact, caught and killed a large predator that supposedly injured some bathers. But, as you see, it's a beautiful day, the beaches are open and people are having a wonderful time. Amity, as you know, means 'friendship'." - Jaws

"Stay on the road. Keep clear of the moors. Beware the moon, lads." - An American Werewolf In London

"I have never known birds of different species to flock together. The very concept is unimaginable. Why, if that happened, we wouldn't stand a chance! How could we possibly hope to fight them?" - The Birds

"The way you walked was thorny, through no fault of your own, but as the rain enters the soil, the river enters the sea, so tears run to a predestined end. Your suffering is over, Bela my son. Now you will find peace." - The Wolfman

That right there, that last quote, is the reason for this post on this sleepless night.

When I was between 4-8 yrs old I watched these movies non-stop. They became my favorite scary flicks and to this day they're classics to watch and still creep me out. I'd "watch" them almost every night, though I admit I closed my eyes in the jumpy scenes (they still make me jump and I still don't know what happens). But it was all good, it was fun, it's made me into the scaredy cat I am today.

I can sing in my head the song the kids were singing in class in the movie The Birds, as the birds gathered on the playground outside seemingly waiting for the bell to ring so they could feast on pre-adolescent pupils (pun intended).

I know almost every dialogue, including the SS Indianapolis story Quint slurred his way through, from the movie Jaws. "Show me the way to go hoommeee...", still makes me giggle when I hum it. Brody's awesome miraculous shot right into the oxygen tank while saying "Smile you son of a bitc---KABOOM!".

David and Jack walking away from The Slaughtered Lamb...hearing growls trailing them. Realizing they both strayed from the road and did not beware the fool moon. The panic sets in, they start running but where the heck can they hide? The noise gets louder. They sort of see what's chasing them and wonder if it's a dog but in the pit of your stomach (and theirs, and the beast for that matter) you know what's about to come. I close my eyes still. My dad used to hide behind me at this precise moment and howl loudly making me cry my heart out every time.

When Georgie was outside playing with his new newspaper boat, chasing it down the stream...like any of us would be, outside, playing safely in the rain. Boat goes into the sewer. Bummer. Then I see this clown pop out of the sewer...pull this kid into his razor sharp teeth and those words will forever chill me to the bone. "We all float down here, Georgie! And when you're here, you'll float too!". Yikes! Talk about a bad time at circuses or any clown related events after seeing that. Or when Beverly is in the bathroom and the blood starts bubbling out. Oh god I used to have nightmares that instead of water, blood would come out of the shower head or the sink faucet.

But, today, in honor of all the nostalgia I feel towards the movies that horrified me as a child, I have received wonderful and horror inducing news. Yes, I am ready. You see, contrary to all he remakes Hollywood insists on shoving down our throat...there is one coming out on February 12, 2010 that looks so good, I cried. I hyperventilated. I squeeeed in delight. I became uber nerd. This isn't a mere 'let's tamper with the original and utterly make it looked like we wiped our ass with it'. Oh no, dear reader. They have made a remake of The Wolfman. Yes. THE WOLFMAN.

Let me begin by saying I can't believe I found out sooner about this, given the cast they picked and - by the looks of it - the amazing special effects involved in this remake. First off, they seemed to have left the storyline almost intact, for a few minor changes. Second, they didn't bother making it have too much CGI and making it look like a damn freak show or utterly fake. That right away drew me in, because if I have to see another damn "Van Helsing" I'm seriously slaying someone. Third, the cast. OH. EM. GEE.

As Sir John Talbot, they have cast Sir Anthony "I HEART THIS MAN" Hopkins...and he doesn't look like he's gonna be a pleasant fellow in this at all. As Larry "NOT JUST ANY WEREWOLF" Talbot, the ever delicious and much more talented actor than Lon Chaney...Benicio Del Toro. Yes. Benicio. Yum. He looks absolutely fantastic for this role. Adding to the mix? A little Hugo Weaving as the detective and Emily Blunt as Gwen.

I have seen the trailer so many times today, I should be considered unfit to be with normal society. Everything about it looks awesome. They even have the gypsy lady!!! The mansion is almost identical to the original one! The effects, his looks, his howl, the plot...I'm getting dizzy! I am so pleasantly surprised tonight! Like my friend Scott said "Dude, if she says The Way You Walk Is Thorny, My Son, I'mma shit." and "I swear if there's a gypsy guy named bela I'm dead." We are ready for this.

It looks good. I long for the day when classics will be left untouched by Hollywood punks...and if you MUST remake them (God knows why), they end up giving me the hopes this one is. Stop MESSING UP MOVIES!

HERE! CLICK IF YOU DARE! BEHOLD THE TRAILER! http://www.thewolfmanmovie.com/

p.s. I was remembering Jessica Tandy in "The Birds"...and got to thinking about her role in 'Batteries Not Included'...I LOVED that movie as a kid. But that's another story, and a whole lotta therapy. tootles!

Just call me McPinesol

I've never been a 'tidy and neat' person. Ever.

Sure I keep the house as clean as I can working 50+ hours a week sometimes, but I'll be completely honest...I am NOT my mother. She sees a glass you drank water from in the sink for more than 3 seconds and WWIII descends upon you. Your watching t.v. in the living room and decide to kick off your shoes while you're relaxing...she turns into a spawn of hell and bites your quivering-out-of-manic-fear ass right off ya. She's so intense. She's OCD about the smalles things.

I am not.

I see a crumb? It's not the end of my existence, I'll clean it on my way back to the kitchen when I'm done with my plate...no need to ruin dinner obsessing over a crumb. I'll do laundry when I get the chance. I'm chill. I can be a bit of a hoarder but, thankfully, I'm not too bad about it...usually when I see stuff getting a little behind I'll get it done, alebeit, reluctantly and mumbling grumpily the whole time.

So...what the hell is wrong with me? I noticed something last week when I was obsessing over washing my car. It was filthy, I couldn't stand it! So, amidst grasshopper attacks and people laughing at me shrieking every 5 seconds, I washed my car. I mean REALLY washed my car. None of this go through the automatic carwash crap. I mean hose the sucker down, foam brush, hose the sucker down, foam brush it again, hose the sucker down, clean the tires and wheels, wipe the glass, get rid of the family of papers living inside my car cleaning. Have you ever seen Harry and The Hendersons? Old 80's movie about bigfoot? Harry just LOVES to eat hamburgers from a certain place in a yellow wrapper. So in one of the scenes they show the inside of the station wagon and it is FULL of yellow wrappers everywhere. That was my car except it was: drinking straw wrappers from taco villa, mcd's, sonic and starbucks...and receipts. ENDLESS receipts from banks, pharmacies, any single purchase I've made in a month or two. Not to mention my letters. I don't believe in opening my mail. I assume I know what I owe and I insist I do not need to open junk mail (or I'll end up signing up for credit I don't need).

After my car washing fiasco, I tackled laundry. I'm usually mentally prepaired to face the dreaded ass-and-destruction clothes pile. I actually did all the laundry, hung it out, got stung by a wasp, put it away and was done with all of it in 2 days. I usually wash what I need to wear within the next few days and use the "ill wash this weekend" excuse for the rest of the unloved pile laying on the laundry room floor. After that, I went to CVS and went on a cleaning supply rampage. I got home and tore up the kitchen cleaning and moving stuff around, getting so...so high on bleach is not even funny. The scent of Clorox, Comet and Fabuloso (hispanic Pinesol) filled the house along with the pretty glade plug ins I bought for the rooms. Next I opened the bathroom door and my soul screeched in horror. Oh bathroom! Oh the humanity! What the heck is that?! So I walk in there with my Clorox Bathroom cleaner in front of me like a crucifix warding off evil bathroom spirits. I tackle the toilet, which I swear was talking to me like the one in that Look Who's Talking movie..."I WANNA EAT YOUR PEE PEE!!" yeah, I have a great imagination. I cleaned, threw out (and almost up), scrubbed tub...the whole nine yards. I should mention my house has no central AC, only 3 wall units: living room, spare room and bedroom...and this house also has no insulation. It was easily 95F in that restroom with the sun shining through the window...once again now I'm high on Fabuloso/Clorox/Comet/Windex + overhelming heat. Fun times.

After that, every few minutes I found myself going to the restroom to keep it "clean". Washing the cup I used for water and spraying the sink clean again. Fast forward to today at work... I've cleaned the restrooms twice. Every time I go, I find it filthy and use it as an excuse to give it a scrub down and clean around.

Wait...did...have I turned into my mother?

Fuck.

"Few tasks are more like the torture of Sisyphus than housework, with its endless repetition: the clean becomes soiled, the soiled is made clean, over and over, day after day." - Simone de Beauvoir

Don't Hit Bong Before Bed...

So I had another questionable dream last night...shocking I know.

I was touring Martha's Vineyard in a tiny Ford Fiesta with Gita driving, Shane in the front seat (I guess I got used to him being in the front with his uber long legs lol), and Cath and myself in the back seat crammed sideways. It's the first time I've dreamed of Gita, that was very pleasant and her voice was sooo soothing. She kept showing us points of interest, with Martha's Vineyard looking more like a remote village in Guatemala. We passed a tribe of, what I presume were Amazon aboriginals (I guess they were touring Martha's Vineyard too?) and one of them had a hat in shape of a shark on it. I heard Shane mumble "this is so surreal" and Cathy retorted "tourists are retahded"...and I'm pretty sure I giggled in my sleep.

Suddenly we were crossing this...bay looking sort of body of water. I stuck half my body out through the sunroof and put my hand on top of my eyes to shade myself from the clouds (it wasn't sunny), and fancied myself an admiral of sorts. I started telling Gita to be careful, because the road ahead went right through the bay...and it wasn't a road it was more of a..pathway made of a sand that was quickly disolving. I asked my fellow passengers "Aren't these people afraid of the shark?" Everyone in the car was on edge as well, turns out twilight was approaching fast and the water was turning violent, gray and murky. I looked to the right side of the sloshy road, and saw a beautiful view of Mt. Kilimanjaro and instead of the bay it looked like a lake with people boating. To the left side of the now almost non-existant sand bank, I looked and it was a dead angry sea. Moms and their babies playing happily in it by the side of the road. I kept telling them that the weather and the shark were bad news to them, they waved and wished me a good trip...So I snuck back in the car to find now it was a limousine. I told the group "you know they're all smiles and jokes until one bitch screams at the top of her lungs 'shh..shh..sharrk!', and by then someone's hairy leg is gone." That was it! I knew how to save the people, but I had to act quick because Gita was now flying down the road reaching the other side of the bay/jungle. So I stick my head out the window and yell "SHAAAAARK!!!! SH..SHAAARK!!!" and look at them with my best panic face...only to have them throw coconuts at me and break my glasses...

The dream gets kinda hazy from there, I think cuz my nose was bleeding and the car was full of dried coconuts that looked like dried voodoo shrunk heads. Cathy was wiping my nose and laughing. Shane kept flipping his cell phone open looking for a signal and sighing frustrated. Apparently his mom was also in Martha's Vineyard while we were vacationing there and we were supposed to meet for dinner but she wasn't answering her phone. Gita started arguing in french with an aboriginal that wouldn't let her park on the dock unless she put on a coconut shell bikini top. Cathy pulled out a bottle of wine from her tiny purse and told me to wash my face with it because I looked like a bruised orphan...

Last thing I remember is the taste of wine and dirt and blood in my mouth...

Go ahead. Have me committed. I think I've lost my marbles.

Take the way home that leads back to sullivan street

Past the shadows that fall down wherever we meet

Pretty soon now I wont come around

Im almost drowning in her sea

Shes nearly fallen to her knees.

- Sullivan St., Counting Crows

Transparent

Sitting on the edge of your bed
Your sleep is restless tonight.
He lives so deep in your head,
Is it worth to put up a fight?

Your breathing is violent this eve,
Hands clutch the sheets in despair...
How dare he? Why did he deceive
my naive angel with golden hair?

My arms cradle you, trying in vain-
to protect you from what is unseen.
We both know that we should refrain,
from grasping at love's broken seam.

Helpless, defeated, I lay by your side
Whispered songs, chasing dark dreams
For once I tell you, don't hide
Dance with me on broken moon beams.

-8.2009

For you, not with love haha!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vj2xSwOY0xs

E.N.J.O.Y.

Sound of Madness

I decided to venture out in to the world yesterday...seems I've been doing that more often on Saturdays.

Again, breakfast at Pancake Alley was superb. Sat on the counter like a cool person and watched the lady make my french toast and eggs in what seemed like 2 minutes. I even pondered the thought of taking her home with me whenever I'm a millionaire (ha!) and have her wake me up every morning to the smell of bacon goodness. Alas, the dreams of Yari are often mere fantasies.

So, as I had mentioned before, I've been trying to sell my Martin guitar so I could get another acoustic I wanted. Mostly because for some reason I never play the Martin. So I went to N-Tune in town and took my guitar with me to see if they wanted to trade or buy it off me. While I was there I hung around with the guys that work there for a bit, turns out the blue book value of my Martin wasn't impressive at all. Between that and all the guys there telling me things like "Why would you wanna get rid of this?! It's such a sweet guitar!" I quickly changed my mind and decided to keep it. Not only that, I went to another guitar place in town and ended up putting a Michael Kelly electric on layaway...sighs...but! I DID sign up for weekly guitar lessons with Mike every Friday at 2:30. He decided I should do the one on one classes since I already kinda knew how to play. I'm hopping I get to jam with him and Joe and TJ maybe when they jam on tuesday nights.

After that I went to my parents to visit for a bit, always pleasant. Took a nice 3 hour nap in the middle of my visit ... nothing like quality time with family right? When I woke up I came home and got ready to go to Buffalo Wild Wings to listen to a local live band and have some drinks. I drank a bit too much, tweeted some unfortunate things and let my feelings get the best of me. But, otherwise the band was great and well...I'll leave it at that or I'll get sad again.

Today was nice and mellow, did some cleaning and laundry. There's a Harry Potter marathon on and it's too hot to do much of anything else. So I'll keep writing for now. More blogs to follow. I'm disappointed. I deserved better.

I created the sound of madness,
wrote the book on pain
Somehow I'm still here to explain
That the darkest hour never comes in the night
You can sleep with a gun
When you gonna wake up and fight for yourself?
- Shinedown "Sound of Madness"

Para ti, cara bella!

“Today is a good day!”
She said, and I smiled.
“I have books and burgers!”
Her eyes looked so wild.

In the middle of darkness,
The sun shone on her.
Life gave her a flower.
Her spirit’s astir.

“Today I’m so happy!”
She squealed my way.
My own sadness ran off,
I celebrate her ‘today’.

Here’s to life’s freedoms!
Oh sister! My dear friend.
The good times are home,
There is light at the end.

-Yari 8/2009

(Author’s Note: For my sister in past lives, this one and future ones. We will always find each other. Thank you for existing DJ.)

Squeak Squeak!

I decided to blog this early in the morning because, hell, it seems I only blog when I’m down.

Swing is going back up at the moment. Chest doesn’t feel empty or heavy. It’s such a beautiful morning in this little town. The sun is shining brightly but it’s not hot yet, there’s still that cool early day breeze going on. The streets weren’t too crowded, so the drive to work was rather pleasant. Sure, I was stuck behind the girl yapping on the cell phone going 35 mph on a 50 zone with her blinker on, but even that didn’t seem to phase me. I patiently tailgated her ass till I reached my exit on Grandview.

I woke up early this morning, didn’t hit the snooze button and had enough time to go through my favorite breakfast drive-thru – Taco Villa. There wasn’t a line, and I treated myself to a nice breakfast burrito with two, yes TWO, extra large diet cokes. Oh the huge manatee! (kudos to those of you who got that last line). So instead of crossing through the parking lot and taking the shortest route to my office, I pulled back on Grandview and took the back street that takes me right in front of Permian High School. As I drove by, windows rolled down and wind softly hitting me, I looked at the high school marching band practice outside the school in the parking lot. They sounded pretty good, upbeat, they all look so young, full of dreams. The guys were in the field practicing football runs – yes, I work by THE Mojo. A few of you who don’t live in Odessa might not know this…but the movie Friday Night Lights was based on this lil piece of country right here. Anyways, this is small town America I guess. Something I used to only see on t.v. growing up on PR. There were no marching bands in high school over there, no cheerleaders, no football. We are all beach bums over there, each place has its magic I reckon.

So I’m at the office right now, it’s very quite aside from the high school band songs I can hear through these walls. We’re only a few hundred feet away. I even saw a grasshopper, my eternal enemy, on the wall besides the door to come into my office. I didn’t feel the surge of panic I usually feel…but yeah I totally ran the opposite way and made the doc flick it off the wall. I hate bugs…and frogs…and by hate I mean I totally freak out if it’s within 10 feet from me. A frog attacked me in Boston. A grasshopper stared me down yesterday. I need to work on my phobias.

Deep beneath the cover, of another perfect wonder

where it's so white as snow.

Finally divided by a word so undecided

and there's nowhere to go;

In between the cover, of another perfect wonder

where it's so white as snow.

Running through the field, where all my tracks will be concealed

and there's nowhere to go.

-RHCP "Snow (Hey Oh)"

Martes

Have you ever just written for the sake of writing? No purpose, no substance to it, just a futile attempt to remain sane. To not feel your brain turn into Quaker's Instant Oatmeal and it pouring out of your nose after a long day at work.

I wish I could say...

The things you already know.

What I really think about you.

The confession that dies behind closed lips.

How deeply you hurt me, and that you are forgiven.

But, you already know what you do hurts me.

You've known every thought my heart has fluttered at the sound of your name.

Why confess what was never a secret?

It's tuesday night. I'm very tired, physically and mentally. I haven't been sleeping well again lately, back on the insomnia kick, 3 hours a night for almost a week now.

I wish I didn't expect so much out of people that really don't have either the time for me or don't really care about me deep down. I'm tired of begging. I deserve better than what some of you give me. In the end. The ones that love me, I can count in one hand.

In the end I guess I should know better. People always tell me I'm too nice. Maybe I should be a bitch, which goes against everything Yari is. *shrugs*

"I celebrate myself, and what I assume you shall assume; For every atom belonging to me, as good belongs to you." - Walt Whitman

You have no excuse now...

I used to have a list like this in the other blog, decided to repost it and add things to it...as well as delete things that were on it.

So, without further waiting...for all 4 of you that read my blog...maybe 5...

Yari's List of Favorite Things: (in no particular order)

1. Colors: Red, Black, Purple
2. Scent: pines, pomegranate, lavander, the ocean
3. My favorite season is fall/autumn whatever you call it.
4. Fadra singing "Across the Universe". It's been a while tho.
5. Cathy. Her eyes. Her hand in mine. Her heart (even if she hates it lol)
6. Shane and his stories, his brotherly love and saying 'yaaaaaaaay'.
7. Orange roses, tulips or tiger lillies.
8. Converse - specifically high tops - C. taylors. I collect them.
9. "The llama and the aardvark" poem, and him reciting it.
10. Twix and KitKats are my favorite candies.
11. The entrance to Carlsbad Caverns in New Mexico. Peaceful.
12. Waking up in my home in Puerto Rico, to the sound of roosters and my uncle mowing grass.
13. A rainy afternoon in Puerto Rico, the raindrops hitting the metal ceiling.
14. Making my friend Jack mad :).
15. Counting Crows. Anything.
16. Spending a weekend in Ruidoso, NM. Pines, snow, quiet.
17. Playing guitar, by a bonfire...either with my friends in NM or by the beach at night in PR...
18. When my best friend David Bonet in PR used to out of nowhere smooch me. He's like my lil bro.
19. Brendan Callis and everything he stands for in my life. He's my siamese twin.
20. Bubbles. I love bubbles.
21. Socks. Bright colors, funny patterns, individual toes...doesnt matter. I love socks.
22. Movies: Jaws, Anchorman, The Birdcage, LOTR Trilogy, HP Series, Three Amigos.
23. Books: Angela's Ashes, The Alchemist, The Graveyard Book, Boy, Veronika Decides to Die, The Vampire Lestat.
24. Ricky.
25. The ocean. The sea. Waves. Sand. Palm trees. Home.
26. Cheesecake. OH MY GOD I LOVE CHEESECAKE.
27. Drinking. Mostly beer or whiskey.
28. Brandi Carlile's "Wasted"...no further comment on that one.
29. Seeing my dog Blue run laps around the living room when I chase him.
30. My uncle's flan.
31. My goddaughter Hannah's eyes.
32. Favorite Poems: "O Captain! My Captain!" - Whitman, "Poema 20" - Neruda, "Bianca Among the Nightingales" - E. Browning, "Annabelle Lee" - Poe
33. Songs that melt me: "The Way You Look Tonight" - Sinatra, "Spanish Eyes" - Martino, "Sweet Caroline" - Diamond, "Time to Say Goodbye" - Boccelli, "Catch a Falling Star" - Como
34. Food: Italian.
35. Scott and his, again, infinite patience in dealing with me lol.
36. Llamas, Seals and Wolves, though I tend to have wolf nightmares.
37. Being called 'hot rod'.
38. How the sun rises when driving through Arizona....breathtaking.
39. When it's cold or snowing...get my pillows and comforter and watch movies all day long. Classics.
40. When my grandma used to hum xmas songs while cooking...
41. My grandma was my life. She will always be my favorite.
42. Making fun of my mom's accent when she tries to speak English...then apologizing when she hits me lol.
43. Beating my dad at monopoly.
44. My dad is one of my favorite things.
45. Baseball!!!! Playing it, watching it, yelling at the screen.
46. Seeing Metallica live at Vet's Stadium in Philly on July, 2002.
47. Downing 5 pitchers of Bud Light at Hooters with Jack.
48. When Ricky's grandma would tell us stories about her growing up in the 30's. Mostly cuz she mumbled them and I'd fall asleep right away.
49. Reading poetry with mom. Playing in the rain, as a child, with mom.
50. Taking pictures of my feet with shoes on at random places.
51. Hot dogs. Corn Dogs. Any edible dog*. (*Refrain from asian jokes)
52. Driving with my friend Shante to Lancaster, PA to stalk Amish people. Cute guys.
53. Listening to the Red Hot Chili Peppers with mom when driving around.
54. Love, albeit painful, will remain a favorite and necessary evil in my life.
55. Making jewelry, soaps and lotions.
56. Sketching and taking pictures of random things.
57. Making people happy. Making people laugh. Making people feel loved.
58. Hugs.
59. I love balloons. LOVE them. They relax me and make me smile.
60. Family Guy, Futurama, Spongebob Squarepants.
61. My curly hair. My boobs. My eyes.
62. Vampires. Werewolves. Druids. Witches. ShapeShifters. Aliens. Pretty much any SciFi stuff.
63. White Chocolate Mocchacino from Starbucks.
64. The way Brandi Carlile belts out "The Story".
65. Listing things.

"Judge me all you want, but keep the verdict to yourself...for you only have ONE advantage over me. YOU can kiss my ass, I cant!"

And so the strings were cut...

There will come a day…

When I can taste food again
When I won’t flinch when someone says your name
When I can take a deep breath again
When I’ll sleep without being tormented by you.
When I won’t wonder if you’re having a good day.
When I won’t care if I’ll ever see you someday.
When music will go back to being MY music, not your songs
When the sound of the seconds ticking by wont resonate in my chest
When I see your picture, and I’ll vaguely remember what you were
When you will be just another hurdle in life
When I’ll actually see the road ahead of me clear to my destination
When I’ll stop fronting that I’m alright. I’ll actually BE fine.

When you will be here, where I am today, and I won’t.

Yari 04/2009

Throw Me Out Already!

I made it through another week.

I'm feeling like that worn out, empty little box that once held delicious treats in it. Yup, that's me.

I once was new and shiny, with an unbroken seal. I was full of treats everyone shared with everyone else. I controlled your hunger while you got to eat a meal that would satisfy you. I gave you that cool breath you could use to impress someone else. You kept me at the bottom of your linty pocket, and never thought twice about me until some crisis where my assistance and deliciousness was needed.

Now I sit here, on your counter...shelf...in a random trashcan. I still smell sweet if you flip me open but I no longer hold anything inside me. I'm empty. Discarded. I'm only a faded proof of something that held all you needed once. But...

It's okay. I'm on my way to being recycled into something else. Just think...in a few weeks I'll be a stamp or something...

And all of you will be licking my ass. I get the last laugh.

Quickness of the Note

He said "Don't lose hope Yari, otherwise what have you got to live for?".

I smiled. Thank you Wolfie, because as much as I hate to admit it, I'm an optimist. Giving up doesn't really suit me does it.

Yesterday I had about an hour or two of this feeling of darkness, no hope in sight, loneliness. Between his words and re-uniting with my regular friends on AIM for a lovely chat, I felt like my old self again. Nothing is really wrong, it's all in my noggin'. In order to be better, I have to strive to do so. In order to forgive others, I must forgive myself.

The sun shines brighter. I got that nice feeling in the pit of my stomach that makes me smile at myself or giggle at nothing. I feel so much love from plush, twin and shane. They miss me a lot, makes me feel...at home. I guess I can't expect to have a good day every day, but lately they seem to be more frequent and I refuse to go back to where I was. Im enjoying life, family and friends. This weekend I'll go to the racetrack I'm hoping or at least spend time with my parents and my good ole Blue.

There's a spring in my step, a flutter in my heart and bright smile I can't seem to hide much these days. I wish you all happiness in your lives too, it helps me be calm with myself when the people I love arent going through harsh times.

“If I never met you, I wouldn't like you. If I didn't like you, I wouldn't love you. If I didn't love you, I wouldn't miss you. But I did, I do, and I will.”

Last Night

The thunder rumbled loudly outside my window, and I woke startled.

He was sitting at the edge of my bed…right by my stomach almost. How had I not felt the bed shift softly? I’ve always been a light sleeper, nobody sneaks up on me – how odd. Yet, there he was just looking in my eyes from where he sat, with a cynical grin on his face and eyes that burned into my soul and left me exposed.

The room was pitch black for mere seconds, before lighting up like a fluorescent explosion from the lightning outside. I could see his pale skin, sharp features and his black hair neatly combed…slick…almost greasy. His very pronounced widow’s peak reminded me of countless comic book villains I had read about or seen in my books. He was very real though, too real. He wore a simple black turtleneck and unremarkable darker than black pants. He looked to be very tall and slightly sick, malnourished or just plain tired. I saw something glisten and reflect the storm outside my window, the blade of a polished dagger that was sitting in his death-like white hand.

“Who are you? What do you want?” I spat out through dry lips and with a hoarse voice. Only to feel the bed softly shake as he rocked gently with what I presume was laughter. Except, this laugh was a barely audible hiss that made the hair on my arms raise and a chill fill the room. I licked my lips and tried to control my breathing before trying to ask him again, “Who are you?!”. This time he slid closer to me in a movement too fast for me to follow, his face hovering inches from mine. His cool breath bounced off my cheeks and something even cooler pressed firmly under my left breast producing a stab of pain…his dagger. Too terrified to look down, I merely ran my fingers slightly up my stomach to confirm that I was hurt. Keeping my eyes on his, by his will not mine, I felt something warm soaking my nightgown as I approached my wound. My fingertips traced the edge of the blade to find that although I had not been stabbed, the gash under my breast was easily six inches long and bleeding profusely.

Unable to keep calm I squirm under his weight, opening my mouth in a quickly muffled scream as his hard hand pressed against my lips. His fire-lit eyes danced over my facial expressions and stared at me mockingly, enjoying my desperate struggle. His voice was barely a whisper, yet it carried the feeling of dread one gets when walking through a cold, poorly-lit street on an autumn night…leaves rustling, shadows that never materialize, the panic of being followed. “You see now? You cannot escape this, beautiful. Oh…how delightful, she cries!”, he said while giving me a menacing smile and using the bloody blade to flick the tears off my cheek, scraping me in the process. I was losing blood fast and felt my body shaking violently in fear of what was to come. Maybe I would die soon and not see what else he had planned. “Look at my eyes, you…or do I have to cut those pretty souls out of you and teach you a lesson?”, dragging the tip of his dagger around my eyes, almost making the shape of a pair of glasses around them. I cried harder and this time felt my tears stinging the fresh cuts on my face.

He removed his hand from my lips, and something inside me knew to whisper and keep silent. “Please…why are you doing this?” I said in between hiccups and groans of pain. “I’m sorry for whatever I did. I’m sorry. I’m sorry! No! Please…no!” I repeated this time a little louder as I saw him roll his eyes and cover my mouth again forcefully before feeling his blade take a swipe under my left breast this time. Agonizing pain shot through me, a sting felt deep in my chest…warmth trickling down my stomach and onto my arms. “Sorry? You should be!” He laughed loudly this time, as if making use of the loud thunder surrounding us. “But, darling Death, do you know why you’re apologizing? How are you going to learn your lesson if you don’t know what you’ve done wrong, cher?”, he said commanding my eyes to his once again. I screamed loudly into his hand…half in pain and half in frustration trying to conjure a memory that would explain what I had done wrong to deserve this. He leaned even closer, his nose touching mine. He winked at me and said, “Now then, are you ready to really pay for your mistake?”. His voice slowly rustled and got confused with the wind outside…my body feeling cold, heavy. I struggled to keep my eyes on him, to see what was next…

Was I ready?

It’s the last thought I gain from my sleep last night. I find myself sitting up straight on my bed, alarm blasting…heart pounding. What the hell was that?!

"I had a dream that you were with me, and it wasn't my fault. You rolled me over, flipped me over like a somersault." - My Never, Blue October

This is how the story went...

I am a living being.

Few things escape me. Even fewer things surprise me anymore.

That being said...

Days like today sweep me off my feet. It's a new beginning in such a small step. When one is able to not, for even a second, miss what once we thought eternally embedded in our brain...it's a liberating feeling. It's almost like being on a high, to realize there is a bright light shining a few feet from my eyes and for once, it 's at reach. It is nothing that can be purchased or bribed into achieving. It is nothing I can find by desperately clinging to crumbs of affection or convenience friendships. All I had to do...was let go. Let go to what hurt me. Say 'enough' to those draining my energy. To stop wasting positive vibes with those that chose to dispose of my feelings and caring nature instead of saying a simple 'thanks' every now and then.

The first days were tough...today I felt the chain break. I felt the cycle deflate and disappear. Whoever in my life truly loves and cares for me, also wants me to be happy. If this is what I have to do to be happy, you will understand and be proud of me. My life will not be limited by my own insecurities. I am not perfect, and that's okay. I'm not exotic or petite, but I am beautiful in many other ways you can't buy. I am not a brilliant mind...but I am an active one, an open one and that, too, is worth more than I gave it credit for before. Once I say 'I love you', even if it's not romantically, you will have me for life. My love, my help, my heart....forever. I will cry with you, build your new house with a smile on my face, help you change a flat tire or even just sit and shoot the shit every now and then.

But, with this change, only one thing I have to say to you. I am not begging. The 'me' that begged for a friendship, for a hug, for a few words, for your affection is gone. I'll kindly and gladly step away. Life is good. New friends and old are valuable gifts. I, too, am a gift. Up to you how you want me from now on...all up to you.

I am a woman. I am a living being. I am your equal. Look me in the eyes, tell me the truth.

"this is how the story went...
i met someone by accident,
that blew me away.
you blew me away."
- Brandi Carlile

Sundays and 4-1-1

So, quite a bit of you have been wondering where I've been lately. It seems more people than I thought read this thing and they figured out I've been in hiding.

First matter, I seldom get on Yahoo anymore. I really see no use to it other than catch up with people I can catch up with via text message, phone calls, AIM or facebook. Even at that, I've been busy trying to get out of the house and enjoy the summer...doing new things. So, my apologies to those who feel neglected, I do not do it on purpose.

Right then, two weeks ago I went on a vacation to Boston to meet up with some old and new friends. I'm not sure if I want to blog about it yet, but it was very fun and healing in many ways. My best moment of the trip? The picture above. Fenway Park. Specifically? Bottom of the 8th inning, a few thousand people singing Neil Diamond's "Sweet Caroline"...singing along with a crowd to one of my favorite songs. Singing along with my friends. It was also, in middle of my big grin and loud singing, very saddening. That was my last night with 3 of the people that mean so much to me, and we all live in 4 different regions of this nation...brought together by a screen...yeah I get emotional like that haha. That's my best trip memory. Hands down.

I've been trying new things to do in town and changes to keep myself busy. Yesterday I finally woke up early enough to go for breakfast in this little joint by the highway called Pancake Alley. So how do I begin my day at 7:30 a.m. on a Saturday? Ohhh I locked myself out of the house...nice move. After that minor glitch, I was well on my way to pancake goodness! I get to the little diner and as soon as I sit down and I'm discussing possible pancake overdose with parents, the waitress walks up looking a bit startled and says "Where are you guys from?". Here we go..."Puerto Rico", I answer warily. She laughs and says "Oh my god and here I was talking to the cook and complaining that the 'gringos' were here. Ya'll don't look like you know spanish or hispanic." My dad says "See? That's why you shouldn't talk bad about people, you never know if they'll understand you." We all laugh nervously, she takes our order and scurries off and informs the cook of her recent discovery. The rest of our breakfast time went without a hitch. Good food, nice talk, nice place...weird waitress.

After that it was early enough that we could hit the 'farmer's market' in the neighboring town of Midland, TX. Hmmm...well I guess I'm used to the farmer's markets in Pennsylvania...this was a bit disappointing. There were 12 tables: 3 of them to sign up for "free trips to Hawaii", 1 selling honey, 1 selling knitting stuff, 1 selling bread, 2 selling hand-made jewelry (my favorite hobby :D), 1 selling soap, 1 selling dog treats, an empty one, and the last one had a longhorn skull with some skins for sale. I looked around rather quickly, bought 'Diabetic Bread' (which I'll prolly fill with non diabetic foods) and politely ran out of there quick. It was a bit awkard.

Now, I should know better than to go to guitar shops. I went to the first one and saw a beautiful Luna acoustic guitar, here's the link: http://www.lunaguitars.com/acousticproduct/lunatri.php. While I was playing it in the acoustic room, there was a 14 yr old 'goth' girl sorta just strumming on another guitar. So when I'm done trying that out and I put mine up on the wall, she also gets up and puts hers up and stands in front of me and looks up. She's about 5 feet tall, I'm 5' 9" and 3 times her weight...she's dressed in all black oversized goth clothes looking like death's minion...and out of her mouth I hear: "I just wanted to tell you you're beautiful. I think you're beautiful and felt like I should tell you". I thought it was adorable, I wanted to hug her but somehow she didn't seem like a 'huggy' type. That put a smile on my face as I headed to the next guitar place. Bad mistake, now I want this little number too: http://www.ibanez.com/HollowBodyGuitars/Series-afs. So, if my plans go well...I'll sell my Martin guitar and my other electric Ibanez and get these two.

Finally, I ventured off last night to a local dirt track to watch cars race. It was a redneck paradise of epic proportions. I had so much fun watching the races, nobody got hurt in the wrecks so that's good and I had a beer. Good family fun and I finally met 2 guys who I had only talked to previously on a local car forum. It's funny meeting new people you only know by their screenames. Here's a sloppy re-enactment:

Me: *shaking his hand* I'm MonkeyScrotum.
Dude #1: *laughs and smiles* *shakes back enthusiastically* I'm carwashman, nice to meet you....Yari? (and im wondering how he knows my name???) *slapping dude #2 on arm and pointing at me* This is MonkeyScrotum!
Dude #2: *laughs and smiles* (im guessing its my sn thats funny?) Hey! I'm CrazyPony...
Me: *laughs, snorts, laughs* Heyy!!! Great meeting you! (crazypony has legendary forum reputation and i always laugh at the crap he posts and the fights he gets into...a legend i say)

So that went rather well, and hopefully the rest of the summer when I go to the other races we can now hang out together, they good peeps.

I guess this is the part where I end this rather botchy account of what Ive been up to lately. I'm happy that I feel like playing guitar again, 2 weeks of hating my guitars was not looking promising at all. Everything passes I guess, no hurt lasts forever and music cannot be contained in the same dark box with your sadness and broken thoughts. Maybe I'll be back later today or tomorrow and type down some thoughts.

Happy Sunday!

"It's nearly been a year since he's been gone
But we still sing his goodbye songs
And she knows, she should move on
But she just can't let him go
No, she just can't let him go."
- Joe Purdy