bring out the champagne... ok. the whiskey.eye.8.infiniti... and then some
celebrates its 25th
week anniversary this week. here's to more ellipses and cyber ramblings... onward! cyber soldiers!!!!
i woke up at 3am this morning... and i'm still awake... the flying pigs--(yes, they do fly--especially when you live right by the freeway--so, all you cynical jerks out there who used that idiomatic expression to tell someone, "tough shit!"... well, you're
shit outta luck. it's pay-up time.)--were hovering over the house with the "spotlight on fugitive!" they hovered so close i kept imagining that the fugitive in question was going to run up my back porch steps, smash through my window and try and take cover. as i lay in bed in the dark, i put my eyeglasses on just in case. even though it was too dark to see anything in my room, i at least wanted clear shadows to see my way around in case of emergencies.
i contemplated how i could best use these extra waking hours, since i couldn't fall back asleep... should i pay my cell phone bill? nah... these were magic hours. you don't waste magic on the mundane. what do i do? i cyber surf. read my daily horoscope. i yawn... i'm still yawning... i think of breakfast. and i think... i need to try and nap, right now.
i wonder if it'll be worth something in the future
i once had this journal covered with butterflies that i had taken with me to italy four years ago for my brother's wedding. in it, i had my two-week diatribe against europeans and eurocentrism and god awful mtv euro. i was appalled at really bad white italian rappers and how all the women on t.v. had either jet black dyed or platinum blonde dyed hair. the placement of hip hop culture in a white european context disturbed me considering how being a person of color in italy isn't particularly enjoyable (yeah. yeah. as if uncle sam gives me weekly back rubs). i thought the only people of color italians in rome could handle were their filipina maids (when they're at work... not at the store or out and about), michael jackson and kobe bryant. i wrote about how i hated how racist italians could be against foreigners and i wrote about how i hated my ability to understand every snide remark italians would think they could slide past my family and i. in it, i also had three 100 lire bills on which one had handwritten in italian that "whoever finds this will have good luck." lucky me.
i really wish i had this journal, but i lost it on the campus of ELACC during a torturous rehearsal for hnn (this asian am theatre group that i tumbled into and out of). i wonder who found it and what they thought. i wonder if they keep tabs on me through the internet... if you're out there: i'm still bitter, and yes, i want it back, dammit...
i often falter...
with a to b to c to e... because i start with g and and i end with d.