Adventures · in · Arepaville

Such an important election year and my mother (who just got her citizenship) was adamant about not voting because she sucks like that. I think she wanted Hillary to run and since she didn't get the Democratic nomination she's not voting for anyone. WHAT!? I haven't been to my parents house in a WHILE and I came out here today specifically to bully her into registering. I filled out the form for her and everything. Blow #1 she's like "I'm not gonna be here." Her and my father are supposed to go to Ecuador and come back November 10th, a week after the election. Supposedly. Blow #2 she tells me "The last day to register was today anyway." I goes and checks. Lo and behold, I got confused. The last day is this Tuesday in NJ, TODAY in NY. Ughhhh, feel sooooooo stupid......

I wrote myself a note tonight:

"Someone offered to support you while you WRITE, bitch. Stop crying and write."

And it kinda worked, I'd glance to my left whenever something I was writing or something I was reading that I'd written turned out to be somewhat painful or somewhat true.

I also remembered a story my brother had to READ for school once, beautifully written, about twins and how they'd had to fend for themselves in a family that didn't care about them. I remembered my mother showed me the paper, genuinely alarmed, she'd said to me "Your brother makes it seem like we didn't feed him, like we didn't take care of him." She didn't get it, in her half-way English, she didn't get that it wasn't about HER just because it was in the first person. I remember that for half a second I had a glimmer of hope and thought it was some story my brother had written for school, and I was proud of him.

Now I remember that and all I can think about is how anything I write down will be taken as fact by mother. And others. As what I really think. And believe. All the time. About her. About humanity. About everything. No room for interpretation. Just another encasement. That's what makes me panic.

I read yesterday that excessive coffee-drinking is a nervous habit of Geminis. Ooops. I then had two Coronas before bed because I hadn't been able to sleep right the past two nights and wanted to conk out for reeaaaal. I woke up refreshed but at 8:55am. Oops. Conclusion: I need less substance-related ways of regulating my mood and sleep patterns. Answer:My Roof!Haha.

The opening was always there, above the landing in front of my door, but no way out until the landlord went up to fix something like 6 months ago and left the ladder there. Finally, Saturday night I'm walking home thinking where the hell could I just lay out somewhere and look at the stars...the lid wasn't much of a problem. Just a little heavy. It's nice there, quiet, I can see all the rooftops, and a lot more stars than I'm used to seeing around here. It's kinda like in college when I used to wander off at night sometimes to sit on the bleachers or Foss hill, except now I know I'm not gonna be bothered. Back at school, as deserted as campus got at that hour, someone would inevitably come by. So yeah, new place to chill out, I feel like the cold air at night is good for me.

I couldn't decide if I prefered a hot or cold climate. Then I realized the questions change depending what you choose! It really is like a choose-your-own-adventure. The Garcia Marquez was for hot. This is what I get when I choose cold:

You're Watership Down!

by Richard Adams

Though many think of you as a bit young, even childish, you're
actually incredibly deep and complex. You show people the need to rethink their
assumptions, and confront them on everything from how they think to where they
build their houses. You might be one of the greatest people of all time. You'd
be recognized as such if you weren't always talking about talking rabbits.


Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

If you didn't know what a dork I was before...

You're Love in the Time of Cholera!

by Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Like Odysseus in a work of Homer, you demonstrate undying loyalty by
sleeping with as many people as you possibly can. But in your heart you never give
consent! This creates a strange quandary of what love really means to you. On the
one hand, you've loved the same person your whole life, but on the other, your actions
barely speak to this fact. Whatever you do, stick to bottled water. The other stuff
could get you killed.


Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

I came out to my parents on Sunday morning. Everything was set up the way I planned it because it made me feel better to control whatever variables I could in such an unpredictable situation. FYI my parents are VERY old-school, very conservative Ecuadorians who still goad me about the "pain you caused us" when I moved out TWO YEARS AGO, my father is a lasped Catholic, my mother fell in with the Jehovah's Witnesses some years ago, and I am the youngest child/only daughter to boot.So I got a negative reaction to say the least, but it was a TYPICAL bad reaction, nothing I hadn't heard about or read before. And a curious lack of true hysteria. As a recap of reactions (after they were done looking at me like I had just grown horns):

Mom: I never noticed that about you growing up, nothing in my life has turned out the way I expected/wanted it to, how could you have fallen into that, you saw how your friend was living his life and thought it was normal, college did this to you, you didn't reject boys when you were little, you told me you liked that little boy in your class when you were 7, happiness to me is being with a man, I'd imagined I would be living Maria's life (her sister whose daughter still lives at home and just got engaged to her boyfriend of three years).

Dad: What do you mean you don't like men? What have you done? How could you have done that? Lower your voice the neighbors will hear. I don't want the family knowing what you've done and what you're doing. Why do your friends know, why are you talking to people about this, do you know how hard I've worked to bring this family ahead, there are women at my job who used to be "confused" but now they're with men and happy, you're just confused, who did this to you, you've been brainwashed, it's ok if some people are born like that, but YOU weren't born like that.

I won't get into my responses, those were pretty typical too. What I thought was interesting was their lack of interaction with one another. They each only had "I" statements, didn't even look at each other. The only exchange was when my mother grabbed my father's arm to tell me happiness to her is being with a man, and when she had the nerve to blame him and say that it's his fault for being supportive of all my ventures and giving me too much freedom. I wonder what planet my parents think they could possibly be considered "permissive" on?

In any case, the hardest part is over with? Now what though? My father called me later that day after I left their house, basically said the same thing, expressed concern that I'd stop visiting them, ended pretty cordially. Talked to my mom yesterday morning who sounded sad but generally ok and just didn't bring it up. Talked to her again THIS morning but she sounded much worse, pausing a lot and sounding like she was trying really hard not to cry. I'm mostly worried about her, what with the religious thing. Thanks to anyone and everyone who sent good vibes my way for this purpose, keep 'em coming cuz apparently it worked, as things could have been much much worse.

SO, my cousin got engaged on Wednesday. The one who's two years older, like a sister, that best-friend cousin we-grew-up-together-sort-of-thing. It was cute, very valentiney. Lots of people on the verge of tears, LOTS of food, speeches in somewhat halted Nuyorican Spanish, speeches in inordinatley formal (even for the old-school folks)Spanish, cringe-worthy (for me anyway) readings of that passage in the bible where God creates Eve for Adam, yadda yadda yadda...It's been a while since a girl in my family has done things "the right way," meaning she's lived with her parents up until then (is assumed to be a "virgin" as a result)and is getting married in a church. Needless to say, although I am happy for her I felt a little odd when it hit me that everyone was not only happy for her, but PROUD even. Whereas, I am hoping for acceptance at the least and happy-for-me at the most some day. I got to be the photographer at this little shindig. Which means I sucumbed to self-portraiture once the excitement died down. Here is my masterpiece:

Portrait of the Artist as a Young Dyke at her Straight Cousin's Engagement Party

Heh.
It's meant to capture the consternation and out-of-placeness I was experiencing, in case you couldn't tell, hahaha.

The fact that I
am writing to you
in English
already falsifies what I
wanted to tell you.
My subject:
how to explain to you
that I
don’t belong in English
though I belong nowhere else
if not here, in English.

-Gustavo Perez-Firmat

Im procrastinating on gradschool applications, so this is something I found which I wrote a while back and like it because I realized I still feel the same urges sometimes.

I remember once towards the end of high school David said that we should go "far, far away." I remember knowing it wasn't a serious offer in any concrete way, but at the same time knowing nothing is impossible. I remember this hopeful belief in intangible things was part of the understanding that I wanted to believe existed between he and I, the unlikeliest pair even as friends, living proof of the impredictability of the universe. I remember I thought I felt the honesty of his desire to go, even as he lacked any true intention or nameable motivation to do so. I remember we entertained the thought for a moment, running with the idea, and then I did the "responsible" thing and reminded him that I would be starting Wesleyan in the fall; I had to go to college, and he had to finish high school. I remember I missed him terribly one day, when I suggested going far far away to a serious, more pragmatic friend, and recieved as a response nothing but a mini-lecture on responsible constructions of the practicalities of the modern world.

After having changed my eating habits a lot I've realized that grease does not always agree with me.

My friend Sam and I brought 2 dozen empanadas to a friend's engagement get-together, including such gems as the "Reggaeton" Empanada (Piegon peas, rice, and ham), the Hot-Dog-and Cheese, sweet plaintain and cheese, and the Extra Extra Large chicken for the happy couple, only to discover everyone had eaten and was stuffed.

The result: Sam and I ate most of them and I woke up with stabbing pains in my abdomen at about 7am. I spent most of the day in bed having all sorts of bizzaro dreams, like that my cat was a chameleon, she turned pink amongst other colors and sank into the bed "Trainspotting" style.

I won't be having those tasty fried turnovers for a while, and then only if I made them myself.

It's as though someone was reading my mind......

For those of you unfamiliar with the term as used in the world of U.S. collegiate rugby (or Wesleyan University anyway), a power hour is a get-together that features a mix of music in which each of 60 songs plays for exactly one minute. This helps everyone keep track as they take a shot of beer a minute for an hour.

The drunken results are second only to those of a full rugby drink-up, minus the singing and multiplying the chill factor. There is also possible debauchery. Works very well as a cheap cheap pre-game before going out. Because it doens't matter how crappy the beer is if you're taking a shot at a time. Since my friends and I are all poor right now I had been thinking to e-mail someone still on my old team and ask them to send me a power hour mix out of the kindness of their heart. Hehe, hopefully this alumni reunion power hour will live up to the old ones at least a little.

On a side note, I hate my boss. He the most inefficient person alive. He asks me for things that he could google in the 2 seconds it takes him to ask me for it if he weren't such a technologically challenged turd.

Was mad expensive. So I won't be going there on the regular, but it was fun!!! I went with my friend Mabel, her friend from highschool, and my gay boy Steve who I ran into at the gym and dragged with me. First off, I did fall and bust my ass once, but the people I tripped on were really nice in helping me up. And I discovered I do indeed have padding on my butt since it didn't hurt that much. I thought I had no ass. There were people doing all sorts of dancing and tricks and crazy stunts, which was cool but kind of scary too, as people go zipping past you and you see yourself crashing into someone any moment. I agree with Josie, the speed is scary at first, hahaha, especially when it's crowded. I'll go again someday but go all out and wear a crazy outfit and stay all night. Another thing: I was convinced they wouldn't be selling alchohol cuz wheels+liqour just seemed like a bad idea. I was wrong.

On a seperate note, my boss is out today, whoopieeee! And I will be going camping in the Catskills this weekend. Cross your fingers there are no fiascos, last year I went on a camping trip and got into a huge screaming fight with a friend and ended up crying. There are going to be more people this time though and I know when to steer clear of bad vibes from that particular person, I think.

This is my second entry. Apparently I'm bad at this livejournal business, sorry. I'll get the hang of it I suppose.

In any case, you know how they say if you learn how to ride a bike you never forget, you just know how for the rest of your life? Does that apply to roller-skating? I don't know how to ride a bike (how come everyone who's supposed to teach me flakes out or moves away?), but I used to roller-skate a lot. Not inline, I'm talking about those clunky 4 wheeled deals, mine were white with bubble-gum pink wheels, surprise surprise ;)

I'm supposed to go roller-skating at the Roxy today. I remember how much fun Skate Key (classic Bronx institution, haha) used to be when I was 12 and sort of have these fantasies of being really fast and doing tricks and stuff, haha. The reality is I hope I don't fall and bust my ass. So wish me luck, I will write about how it went!

So.......Jo made me join this so here goes.

Thanks to everyone I met in Montreal! Except the girl who tried to break my hand. To her I send a cordial nod. Ah yes, Montreal Pride was a much needed vacation and I came back quite refreshed. I hadn't been out of New York in like 2 years and it's nice to know there's other places I could be.

My mood is awake because I've discovered I can be a morning person. I have MAJOR trouble getting out of bed, but after I'm actually up everything is peachy-keen, haha. I woke up to the "top 6 at 6" on La Kalle which is a mostly reggaeton station in new york, and they were all my favorite songs, hehe. Then I made myself a turkey-bacon egg and cheese on whole wheat accompanied by some orange juice and bustelo, mmmmmmmmmm.

Bringing it back to sleep, I've realized I have this recurring dream. Maybe 6 or 7 times since about age 11 or 12 I've dreamt that I'm in a car (usually with a family member, sometimes with some random person)and all of a sudden, for whatever reason, I have to take control of the car. Either the person passed out, or I got left alone with the car and it started rolling down the street, or SOMETHING. Thing is, I don't know how to drive (in the dream or in real life). I always manage to fudge my way through the situation somehow, but not without a general sense of dull but persistent panic (the closest I get to actual nightmares). And the vehicle is never really in control, just rolling and I'm doing my best to maneuver. The most recent version of this was a couple days ago when I dreamt I was having a hell of a time trying to park a car in front of my parent's house, plus I was parking it facing down the wrong side of the street. I'm convinced this dream theme is telling me something about my life. Any insights?