Halloween at WeHo's Carnaval

Happy Halloween!

My coworker invited me along to the West Hollywood Carnaval 2005. And I am so glad I went. Stunning outfits: Darth Vader, Nemesis, Austin Powers, Edward Scissorhands -- and damn. Hot gay men with no shirts, and sometimes close to no pants. Hot asses hot chests mmmmm... hot everything. Please turn straight for me -- just give me five minutes. I promise I'll be good!

The Three Tinas was one of the hits, along with the Asian Bird Flu, Hurricanes Katrina Rita and Wilma, as well as the Katrina victims on the roof. Poor taste, perhaps, but no poorer than some of the other festivities. I was sooo jealous when I sniffed the scent of sweet vodka in a sippy cup. Where was mine dammit?! Although the putrid air caused my walking to swagger, just a tad -- rife with Mary Jane it was. But my tongue thirsted for the vodka. Sweet vodka, that taketh the past away and filleth the present with the smoldering excitement of the here-and-now, where I am what I wish to be, forever and always.

And yet I was sober. And happy but bitter, consistently bitter, as hands were held and lips were brushed against others. My natural inclination was to grab "kissing booth" by the face and plant one right then and there, but without my sweet friend vodka, should be pointless and disturbing. And so I just watched him slip by and into the crowd, as hot as he was.

The tit fairies were hot too (huge breasts, nipples covered by small flowers -- in tight jeans -- perhaps unorginal, but tonight they're not selling anything), and I'm not even into girls, but maybe I felt lonliness stifling my breath and I fell into another dimension, if only for a moment. Or it was the putrid air again - damn did I get hungry.

If I see another chick cop in a way too short vinyl outfit, it better not be halloween when I see one; that is all I will report on there.

Be orginal folks; be original.

And so I sign off in resolving to do the right thing. Wishing everyone a happy halloween and pleasant dreams. Mine will be haunted by the "what the hell just happeneds" and the "how'd I get this fucked overs" but c'est ma vie.

And Then I Woke Up

Beep beep beep beep. Ok, already, , I'm awake. My eyes blink in the sunlight. What was I dreaming? Oh, yeah, that. Again.

Sliding my legs together, imagining myself actually getting up, I look at the closet door, deciding what I'm going to wear. It's the same routine every morning. Sometimes two snoozes, sometimes three, but never more than five.

"Ehhhh." I whine to myself as I realize I'm lying at an angle across my full-size bed.

Why has morning come so soon?

It's Monday. The most-hated day of the seven brothers. I'm grumbly as I get up and stumble to the bathroom to feel the hot steam smoothing away the sheet creases from a desperate night. After a comforting shower, I feel ready to join the ranks of commuters, even as a yawn escapes my lips.

I carefully lock the door behind me, oops, forgot my cell phone (again) -- I start realizing my memory capacity has been shrinking just as my my alcohol tolerance has escalated -- I unlock, run, grab, re-lock.

Press CALL on the elevator (i know no up or down); and wait like a century for the elevator to arrive. I heard it like 2 seconds ago, open doors open dammit. Maybe it would've been more efficient to walk around outside to the 2nd story belowground parking area. I close my eyes and let myself "nap," if you will. Ahh, open elevator doors; open eyes.

Start car. Drive. Fast. Get out of my way now! Loud music! Drive more. Fast.

Work. Lunch. Work. Home.

AND FIVE WHOLE HOURS TO WASTE ON SOMEONE/SOMETHING. Are you interested?

Better Left Unrequited. Um. Yes,

Ok, the last post had more symbolism than I think I've ever mixed into a post. Of course the room was swirling (literally, yet not) and that could be a direct result of the alcoholic beverages I consumed.

Unrequited Love

• Is easier to write about
  
• Is somehow more real
• Is destiny
• Doesn't ask for very much
• Requires rejection
• Jades the participant
• Slices deep
• Reaps a stillness
• Sows bitterness
• Bytes

"I'm sorry every day. I won't always love, these selfish things." -jimmy eat world

The battlefield lay quiet after a week of intense fighting. Both camps had set up to hold out. The heart's reinforcements, hormones, had since started to complain that they weren't being paid enough and so they retreated. The heart knew it couldn't stay holed up under siege much longer. They needed supplies -- hope, joy, pleasant surprise, anything at all. With troups disenhartened, it was only a matter of time before their final decimation. And like the Samurai, they were willing to die in honor. For that, I was grateful.

In the stillness, I could hear the echoes of soldiers dying for what they believed in. The head troups believed in serenity, peace, and pleasure in the solitudity of life. The heart full-on wanted the passion and the heat of obsession, and possibly love, if they could get a steady supply. (I liken the supply of love to the supply of OIL. Limited quantity, costly, and controlled by terrorists. Please let me know if you know where a cheaper supply can be found.)

I studied the strategy. All the players waited. Everything was immobile as if time had frozen, and yet it had not. Depression hadn't eased in anywhere either. There was some comfort in the cold landscape, strangely enough. As I wrapped my arms around me, I listened; I waited; I stopped fighting destiny, for the moment. And I just was. Unrequited, yet serene.

Chlorinated Kisses

They don't dream. That's for sure. They actually never had a chance, sterile the moment they were released into the real world. And then in one moment, pure joy, and in the next -- agony. That which I, myself, had sworn off of. Joyagaony. The worst drug on the market. So high one moment, so depressed the next. Get me out of this mess is all your drunken mind can mutter.

And yet still craving more. Even knowing the highs may get higher but the lows just get lower. Crocodile tears falling, falling falling. And the abyss opens up and swallows me just as Absolut Apeach falls down my throat in one swift swallow.

One margarita later, I'm standing at the gate of non-memory, and it feels so good that I can sigh in blessed relief, until the next hour as Joyagony hits again. I guess you can't always be up, not always. Only sometimes.

And with that in mind, you push aside the thoughts and bury the memories. Bury them where they are barely on the radar. Because if it wasn't real, it's easier to move past. And if you can move past it, then it wasn't real.

Kisses don't dream. And that's why.

CHICAGO WHITE SOX RULE

Yes they won! 2005 is their champion year. ( Can I hear a Halleluiah?!) My sister's dragged me to games that cost five bux. I've waved at Maglio (her favorite player a few years ago). And in the end, I think I'll wear my CHICAGO shirt tomorrow. This is one of those moments when I get homesick. I wouldn't miss the beach or the warm weather. To be surrounded by hot drunk men screaming "na na na na.. na na na naaa. HEY HEY HEY ...GooodBYE." We are the champions! I feel the Chicago spirit arising. I will never take my Chicago Bulls earring out again!

I've paid my dues -
Time after time -
I've done my sentence
But committed no crime -
And bad mistakes
I've made a few
I've had my share of sand kicked in my face -
But I've come through

We are the champions - my friends
And we'll keep on fighting - till the end -
We are the champions -
We are the champions
No time for losers
'Cause we are the champions - of the world -

I've taken my bows
And my curtain calls -
You brought me fame and fortune and everything that goes with it
-
I thank you all -

But it's been no bed of roses
No pleasure cruise -
I consider it a challenge before the whole human race -
And I ain't gonna lose -

We are the champions - my friends
And we'll keep on fighting - till the end -
We are the champions -
We are the champions
No time for losers
'Cause we are the champions - of the world -

Puzzle Pieces

Sometime ago I was involved in alot of activities/relationships that seemed to work but didn't make me very happy. I mean, I was content; just not particularly overjoyed or whatever. I think I found the very image I was looking for to describe the experience.

Working with puzzles is a great way to relax my mind and work it out at the same time. And those puzzles with really complicated colors -- the kind where it seems that most of the colors are the exact same -- I really love those. Hours of completing one hundred pieces that are supposed to be 12 long-stemmed red roses.

Now picture this: a piece that looks like the one above and the one to the left. They look like they fit together right? But if you were to match them up (metaphorically tech geeks), they don't quite fit. But they look like they should. So you keep jamming the left one in the upper right one. Over and over and over again. Flipping the piece in a million ways.

Yes, I have spent hours trying to make those two pieces fit together. Only to realize that -- voila! This is the real piece that fits! The one in the center of this blog. That's the one. Now my hand is still twirling the one on the
upper left.

I now know it doesn't fit. But my mind insists that that logic doesn't make sense. Yet my eyes see this centered piece is fit completely in; no pushing, no shoving. Just gently applied pressure and swiftly the piece is in. I feel like something just happened. Something just clicked, and the right puzzle piece fell into place.

Double Down in Palm Springs

There's always a defining moment for you, where all those still-scenes powerpoint through your brain (they used to be flashes of your life, but now they're slides with some soundtrack of eighties and nineties songs that makes you all gushy inside).

And in that defining moment, you can take a risk or you can fold, but in the folding choice your moment passes and regret smirks at you.

In the risk, you are disappointed if you lose. You'll cry for years and always carry that hurt with you. Half the reason you're so scared.

In the risk, if you win; you'll shriek in joy, you're high-fiving strangers you barely know. Kissing the cheek of a stranger without a name, greyed hair sparkling under garish lights. Tasting victory in her lovely flavored essence. Lady luck has smiled upon you today.

So you're eyeing that 7 of hearts and 4 of diamonds very carefully. You think you're calculating the rest of the table's hits and holds, but really there's no way of knowing what's under the dealer's hand, and no way of knowing what's next in the deck for you. So you can gulp down the half-full kamikaze, or the half-empty one. It's always your choice how you look at it. You'll be hammered before four pm either way.

Sun glinting off the cholorinated tinny hole, you raise yet another plastic red cup (another one? already?) to the blessed blazing sun; the night is young: Hell, it hasn't even been born yet!

JUMP! Close your eyes and JUMP! And then you did -- double down, that is.

---

By the way, I was up up and away. I never knew gambling could be so rewarding, Maverick. ;-)

Icing

I stood at a crossroad some time ago now, and I had a decision to make. I didn't want to decide. I felt I needed more information, or whatever. One side said "same" one side said "new." I didn't like either. Same, because I was tired, bored, saturated with that path; new was foggy, dim, unpredictable. Yet time doesn't let you stand there while you make up your mind.

I was pushed forward off the paths; and ended up in a thatch of unKnown. I can't know whether it's better or worse than "new" because I've never been down that path. I can only hope I don't end up over at "same" again, because at least now I know it's trite.

Love is colored unpredictable. And sometimes it doesn't work out on my terms. And I can never control it even when I try. Yoda says "there is no try; do or do not." Well, that's love and sometimes there isn't even a do not option.

And there time is, racing me always, daring me. And regret is whispering in my ear, two steps behind mind you,-- if I turn my head, just so, he'll overtake me. Keep my eyes ahead, and ignore him -- i must remind myself.

Live up to your character and remember change was always in your hands. Boy do I love hard. Fall harder. And persist all the same. Kissing recklessly causes clarity, and it's a good thing, especially if it helps me outrun regret...

Astonishing who I've become in just a year. Change is in your hands my friends.

• Friends have become foes.
• Foes have become friends.
• Risks have been taken.
• I let go without holding on.
• New Year's Resolutions ACCOMPLISHED (only cuz the gym was not one of them)
• Suprises were had -- and a complete reversal
  
• Death and Life to a Gunslinger
• Expectation was exceeded

Jolted or Jilted?

...continued "It must be hard knowing you married a stalker" and "unsurprising angst" part3

The day had fizzled hours ago and the 10 stretched out endlessly in the sleek desert. My 3 Series rumbled quietly in the desert, followed only by a few tour busses filled with blue haired ancients, but they were miles behind as I cruised to 110 mph easily, shift, cruise control, tap. The dufflebag of $20,000, not-so-easily earned, but earned all the same, glinted in the naked moonlight.

A serene lonliness enveloped me as I pushed a new CD into the stereo and cranked it loud. A new Go phone lay on the soft cool leather seat. No one had the phone number yet, but I left it out anyway. A photo with his picture was also lying there. How did I kill him? I could barely recollect those last moments of his life.

Think golden lights and new opportunities. I can retire.

The words were hollow, no one really retired from the business. Except when you were lying face down, jaw crushed, fingertips missing, crushed in a chemical barrel.

I shruddered and pasted a smile on.

The night welcomed me with open arms and I felt more secure in the dark anyway. The trip was hella long, but if I could get identified on a camera or two, I might be safe from the inevitable questions. At least his widow would get the insurance money. I shook my head; I didn't have to excuse my actions. I never had before . . . him.

The night wore on.

---------------------------------------------
His eyes fluttered in the bright lights, and then the burning pain in the center of his chest made him wince.

"Jason, can you hear us?"

Who the hell was that? Where the hell was he?

Extreme pain flushed through him as he tried to move.

"Aghh! Dammit I hear you fine. Where the hell am I?"

"Sir, you've been shot. Don't move, we didn't want to start you on morphine just yet. Did you see who did this to you? Do you have anyone who wants to see you dead?" said the man in the black jacket, pen and notepad held out.

Of course he knew.

"She's hotter than hell. Short and fiery. . . "

TO BE CONTINUED

GreenDay

Ok, Jen's right from her comment below. I didn't know I was a diehard fan of GreenDay, but I am now. My concert-going inexperience has shined through; and even with all the makeup the lead of GreenDay is much hotter.

Because this band knows what PERFORMANCE means. Anxiety, or not, there was entertainment. And they had a wizard hand puppet. And puppets are cool. Ok where was I? I really ought to start at the beginnning.

During the week of the Killers concert, I realized (from the same aforementioned crew) that GreenDay was performing. Now this was the SAME week my new favorite song went on repeat, "Wake Me When September Ends." So yeah I thought'd it be cool to go to a sold out performance of GreenDay.

This is where connections come into play. My friend works at an Advertising Firm. And his rep at a very musically inclined, oh alright, Rolling Stone, handed him FLOOR tickets. Wow. Yeah.
To a sold out show.

Then came surprise number 2. As if the excitement building inside wasn't enough, I find out one of my ABSOLUT favorite bands- jimmy eat world- is opening for GreenDay. This makes the night I kissed Maverick (and perhaps even more appealing, when Maverick kissed back) appear boring (which it was in no way shape or form - see entry marked "wow" in June 2005.)

So we have tickets, and I'm going. And I only had to sell my soul once or twice. Bahh. The crew plus his ex girlfriend myself and my ex all join at Bob's Big Boy. I'm driving so I can't participate in the pre-festivities :-( BUT it's ok, I'm ok with it. No really. I am.

Then I get into the show just as Jimmy Eat World is banging out a jam that's jazzin me. I was so hyped. We got the second section away from the stage but against the barrier so I had a GREAT view (usually impossible for people who are 5'4"). And the added help of being able to push back with my ass on a crowd tryin to blur the lines of PERSONAL SPACE.

So I'm dying as they begin with "Don't Wanna Be an American Idiot." And even with black eyeshadow/liner, (please don't be gay), the lead singer was definitely better looking. Now this was because he's funny. (See entry marked "I'm In It For His Sense of Humor") And of course his points cruised upwards.

Near death at Wake me When September ends... ahh... sweet joy. Ok, so if that's what good sex, er ahem, a good live performance is supposed to look like; I'm officially spoiled rotten. (shut up friends who know me in real life -- I am not.)

Anyway, the evening ended well, and of course Maverick was looking hot. Damn keep your shirt on if I'm not supposed to fantasize about you. ....

and a word to you from jimmy eat world (and they say that love goes anywhere, in your darkest hour, it's just enough to know it's there)

Yes I got in at 2 am played Sonic the Hedgehog and got up way early. So what? I'm jazzed and you're not!

The Killers

So it happened.

Four months ago tickets were purchased and the concert was but a blip on the Outlook calendar. Waiting, oh so patiently, almost forgetting when the exact date was (was that October or November?) summer steered by.

As golden and reddish-brown leaves gathered in cities where winter is a reality, fall announced its arrival and it was only a matter of time. The excitement grew as t minus 7 days was slowly ticking by. I played the CD, mostly on repeat, skipping track five (the only distasteful one, however, much cooler live). Jenny was a friend of mine, It was only a kiss, I've got soul but I'm not a soldier you can hear the lyrics now, only mine were imprinted on my eardrum, lyrics and all.

At t minus 2 days, it was hardly believable, but Long Beach was gonna go off the hook!

So the day arrives, I'm cruising, ok stop-n-goin' on the four oh five, down down down, to Long Beach where the poker,videogaming,dudeyallrock crew would be starting a small 'gathering' pre show. A coupla shots, ok, seven or eight shots later, we're crammed into a Passat, the seven of us. The sober designated driver told us to do it! I swear.

Of course, I had to take a ladies' room break when I got there, but after twenty minutes of waiting and the band's about to go on and i'm still fifteen people away from the bathroom door, I abandonned the side mission. I could wait. Now on a side note: HOW THE HELL DO THE GUYS GET TWO BATHROOMS AND THE CHIX ONLY GET ONE. Damn, we don't just have to pull out, and I have reason to believe there were secret orgies going on in there as NO ONE was coming out, but that's an entirely different blog.

Lights, cameras action. The show began with Track One from Hot Fuss and I was so stoked. Lost my voice, gained some tinnitus, and the night shed clothing as it wore on. Naked sound, drunken love, and a sexy lead singer -- that's how every concert should go.

As a reviewer, I vote thumbs up. Sounded JUST like the CD. And without studio FX that's usually difficult. This band is more than my teen-drama soundtrack, they're musical talent at best.

Now, I await Green Day on Saturday . . .