A Week in the Life of Gustavo

"Seems to think that if he fails to write, la migra will find him."--OC Weekly More merriment available at ronmaydon@yahoo.com

segunda-feira, dezembro 31, 2001

GUSTAVO'S JOURNAL OF THE SUBCONSCIOUS, BOOK FORGOTTEN

Haven't done this in a long time, but this dream definitely warrants a mention. I had to go to elementary school and take a grammar test for 2nd graders even though I was a grad student. Some of my professors were there, as well as people I have not spoken to in YEARS. The test was multiple choice, was easy, but nevertheless, I kept erasing my answers and trying to put in new ones. After a while, my scantron was so worn out, you couldn't tell which were the real answers or erased ones. On top of that, after a while, my pencil had two erasers, one on each end. If you have any clue what this can mean, by all means tell it. It was pretty bizarre.
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So another year will end tonight. Well, not really. I've never been a big celebrant of New Year's since it's only one year as defined by the Christian calendar. Other cultures celebrate their new year's on other dates. Every day is a new year, a new month, a new beginning...you get my drift.

Nevertheless, some changes have occured in this year that warrant mention. I was still at Chapman, still thinking about going to Harvard or Yale, not thinking at all about journalism as a career, and still without someone to spend special moments with. Currently, I'm at UCLA, with a pseudo-career in journalism, and ! to share special moments with. Next year? In all aspects, I have no friggin' idea.

Here's to Ud., 2002. May it be a good year or at the very least, like every other year I have ever lived--without a dull moment.

domingo, dezembro 30, 2001

My computer has been ordered, a computer that should last me and guide me through my introduction into the real world of writing. Long live technology and its role in developing me as a human being. Cursed be the shrinking world--well, not really. But I should curse something when I bless something, no? OK, here's something better: Cursed be the bad. Now that's something ambiguous that everyone can agree upon.

sábado, dezembro 29, 2001

Am I the last of a dying breed: the person who stays by choice in the vicinity of where they were born for the rest of their life ?

I can/could conceivably move, let my graduate experience take me to new places. I could have gone to New York straight out of high school. I could even move back to the motherland, marry a 17-year-old girl, and live the rest of my life relatively worry-free.

But no. Orange County is my home. My parents' home is Mexico. The home of other people is the US or whatever country or region they pledge allegiance to. My homeland is Orange County. I'm not sure where my life will take me, but Orange County is home and always will be.

I have somehow managed to live a pre-transportation experience in the age of the automobile. Everyone I know, everyone, has traveled to places far and wide or relocated somewhere. Save for one trip to Mexico this past summer and a weekend excursion to Vegas this past winter, here are my ordinal destinations:

NORTH: I once had to make a delivery in the city of Ventura.
SOUTH: Tijuana, Mexico. Frequent visitor--for the medical business.
EAST: Corona. My ex-girlfriend's sister lives there. We'd go visit.
WEST: Can't get further than the ocean, but I'd guess as far west as I've ever traveled is San Pedro Harbor.

Am I sad I haven't traveled? Absolutely not (those in the know, don't snicker). I like where I am, I guess I'm just one of the very few.
The brutal truth is necessary to survive in this modern world. Delusion in this context is the worst possible sin someone can commit.

I am a sinner. But I am forgiven by the ever-blessed Mother.

I'm not doom-and-gloom, mind you. I just need a sock in the face once in a while to get me back to reality since I still can't believe three-quarters of the things that have happened in my life. Grad school? Alternative newspaper reporter? A Jewish newspaper reporter?! People might say everyone has an interesting life and that my story is no different than everyone else's.

Que piensen lo que piensen. My life kicks ass--or kicks mine.

sexta-feira, dezembro 28, 2001

I've liked playing arcade games since I was a little child and with the advent of places that cost a nickel a game, this love affair has and probably will continue. I took my younger brother, his best cousin, and their two friends (both brothers) to one such location in Garden Grove. I spent the two hours there killing Communists and Arabs in '80's era shoot-em ups. I also played the pinball machines. Never have seen or heard the Who's "Tommy" but from what I remember, it's about some jacked-up kid who finds his outlet in playing pinball. Pinball's not my outlet, but I'm good at it.

Been reading a book recommended by ! called "She's Come Undone." Nothing special at all; meanwhile, I can't put it down. Halfway done in less than two days; only about 250 pages to go. Meanwhile, I'm still hungry.
I'll write later; I'm hungry. But I will say this: I never knew dancing to tropical music could be so much fun.

quarta-feira, dezembro 26, 2001

I've been unable to publish my thoughts today since Blogger suffered a security breach. It is advising all its users to change passwords, both those to our websites and for Blogger. Damn! First a virus, now this. I am running out of creative passwords.

I am reworking some stories as I write and received pretty good grades from UCLA (at least the ones I received). Going dancing with ! the next two days. I never thought I would dance on consecutive days in my entire life. I'm glad I shall.

terça-feira, dezembro 25, 2001

I am fuller than a South Countian's head. Eating tamales (4 different types), pozole, brownies, and some really good sweet bread tends to do that to you. Thank God I engage in some sort of physical exertion to stave off any weight gain--namely yapping my mouth and fingers off.
Best Christmas gift: "Simpsons" cereal. I don't eat cereal but it's cool.

Worst Christmas gift: One of those huge, infernally warm Mexican blankets--with the American flag and a bald eagle as a design. Finally, I can say I wrap myself in the American flag every night!

segunda-feira, dezembro 24, 2001

Incredibly enough, I have little to say. Maybe it's the alcohol that is still influencing my thought process, imbibed during a a 5-hour card-playing marathon w/VM, JAM, and DM. I lost $1.50. I'm not good in poker.

sábado, dezembro 22, 2001

Technology bugs me. Do I post a similar message every friggin' week? Well, it's true. I was under the assumption that my last message had not been posted so I was prepared to re-write it. Now I see that it was posted and I have nothing to post. So I'll leave everyone with this thought:

If the rumor is true that the Chuck Taylor Converse line is being discontinued, I will rush out and buy at least 10 pairs to keep me placated for the rest of my life.

sexta-feira, dezembro 21, 2001

Those darn French and their whimsical movies! Saw "Happenstance" with ! today. Good, just like "Amelie". I'm not sure what is it about the French character that makes them produce such great films. Maybe it's all the wine. Us Mexicans drink lots of alcohol and we're also great in our ow way. I'm stretching here.

Had lunch with ER, AAS, PSS, and BE today at Santa Ana's Gypsy Den. Let's just say I hope that today in general was the start of a whole lot of good. I sure feel it.
Mosh pits are pretty fun but I still prefer to see them and wax academic crap about their origin. The Tijuana No! show was great last night. Went with my sister E, her boyfriend BC, and !. Wow, I finally had company at a concert. Pretty strange.

3 stories done, one more to go. Which means I need to think of new stories to write. Actually, there'll be another story soon, but I need to find out my grades. UCLA, get down here right now!

quinta-feira, dezembro 20, 2001

I do not like technology one bit. So why do I use it? It is my life.

quarta-feira, dezembro 19, 2001

Argentina is in a state of riot right now, all because friggin' banks demand payment from a bankrupt nation. Isn't there something intrinsically wrong with this picture?

Went to the block today with VM and EV. They went to do some Christmas shopping but since I'm broke as a joke, I was unable to join them. Did have a good time, though. After that, came home and typed up two articles. Two down, three more to go. Or maybe an entire career. But this must wait until my UCLA grades are posted. When will this happen? Better be before the three weeks that URSA says so. Dorks.

terça-feira, dezembro 18, 2001

Went to see "Amelie" with !, JAM, and MM. Good movie, good time, although ! is starting to feel a bit sick. I hope she feels better.

I, meanwhile, sound raspier than ever. My interview on KPFK went pretty good, although I'm sure I made few friends with some of the comments I made. But my throat is as raw as hell. I am officially qualified to sing "Oh, Darling!" with this voice.

segunda-feira, dezembro 17, 2001

I have to do a radio interview tomorrow and my voice is shot. ! says that I sound just fine. I'll believe her since she wouldn't lie to me. I've been doing the research for my article (which is on the Gaddi Vasquez article that I did for the Weekly this week--read it!) so I think I'll do good. Besides, I always have a lot to talk about so all I have to do is make sure I make sense.

Spent the day with ! today. Needless to say, ! is !!

domingo, dezembro 16, 2001

Bah! I wrote a long blog beforehand but the wonders of technology rendered it kaput. Therefore, here is a extremely brief summary:

Voice going. Sister happy. !, I had fun. Good time had by all.

There.

quinta-feira, dezembro 13, 2001

I am sick and am combating it appropriately by taking my favorite candy, the antibiotic Teramicina (Spanish name, have no clue what its English equivalent is). I've been downing these little pills all my life. My mom tells me that back in the old country, there was only one kind of medicine, a really powerful pill that was cut up in the appropriate amounts for all diseases. It was even used on livestock. Teramicina is my cure-all drug, and it has cured all illnesses that have ever befallen me--that is, those that medicine could cure.

Sometimes, I feel as if I think I have control over my body. Existentialists (of which I still consider myself an adherent of) say we do, but I still feel parts of our life are predestined. Which ones I cannot say but there are things that happen in life that are too absurd to be explained by random occurrences. I shall not offer explanations because I have spent enough time debating the arcane and philosophical with VM (whom I introduced to Thai food today; yet another convert)

! comes back tomorrow and is supposed to attend my sister's quincia~era on Saturday. I say "supposed to" since one never knows what happens in this modern world. Like crashing planes. Or filmic turkeys. And other assorted madness that defines life.
Saw Pearl Harbor. Boring. Saw Behind Enemy Lines. Fun jingoism. I love war films.

I'm getting in touch with people that I haven't spoken in ages with. Recently talked to someone I hadn't seen in four years. Another lady, AV, I have only spoken with through AOL IM--and that hasn't happened in about 8 months. Such a strange world.

quarta-feira, dezembro 12, 2001

Bear with me because this is a long entry...

Came back from honoring La Virgen de Guadalupe at St. Boniface Catholic Church, my lifelong parish. Bishop Jaime Soto spoke out against the war in Afghanistan. Good. I saw a couple of Vietnamese families sprinkled amongst the Mexican masses. Even better. I just hope some of us Mexicans will be their when the Vietnamese members of our parish honor Our Lady of La Vang (their patron saint) on August 15. I know I will.

It was a bit different from other years. For one, there was no mariachi, instead replaced by a church choir that was too evangelical for my taste. There was also no Aztec dancers, replaced by other folk dancers from I believe Michoacan. Funny, I always thought people from Michoacan lived in Santa Ana, not Anaheim. But it was still packed. When I got there at 3:30 in the morning, it was packed. And still more came.

What kind of Christian am I that attends church only on the feast days of my patron saints and doesn't even go to church on Christmas or Easter? The truest Catholic alive, for better or worse. Call me a pagan! Come on, do it! But la Virgen is something else. I'm not going to give an in-depth analysis here, but one of the things I have always loved about her is the importance of her color. Of all the gods and goddesses I have read about in world religions, la Virgen is one of the few whose skin color is crucial to her story. I know Krishna and Vishnu had blue skin, but I forget the significance of the tone. But la Virgen was brown--a dark brown. I barely look like her. But I identify with her completely. She represents the defeated. The damned. She is our saving grace, the beautific Mother in contradistinction to the vengeful Father.

So I go every year, freezing, and I spend the entire Mass crying. And I spend the time before Mass crying. And I cry nearly the rest of the day (I'm crying right now). Not just tears welled up in my eyes. Streams of tears. Bawling, even. Why do I cry? The better question is, why don't I cry all the time?

I cry, first of all, for myself since I'm a selfish bastard--for everything that I have and don't have. I cry for my family, my friends, my life. I cry for the Mexican nation, for all the oppressed people and the oppressors. I cry for the evil in this world but also for the beauty. I cry for the masses that congregate every December 12 singing praises to an apparition that may very well never have happened. I cry for the miracles that She has granted the faithful and the prayers that have been left unanswered, leaving the faithful doubtful as to whether She does hear us. I cry because I'm human. Most importantly, I cry because I love--everything and everybody.

Now I know many of you consider me one of the more cynical people around but a professor of mine once put it best. He said a cynic is really a hopeless romantic. That's what I am. There. I admitted it. In the movie Altered States , WIlliam Hurt spends the length of the film trying to get to the meaning of life. He finally finds it out by the end: nothing. Life is nothing, utterly meaningless. Sarte was correct. Hurt despairs at finding this out and nearly becomes part of the great abyss, negating his existence. The only thing that saves him? His wife. They had spent the entire movie sleeping around with other people but at the end she saves him because she is the only one who can--because they have loved each other truly all along. After she pulls him out of the abyss, they are left cradling each other, naked. Primordial love--the only salvation for anyone. I like that message. I believe in it.

I asked for a couple of things from Her this time around--the usual suspects (health and family) and more bizarre things like good grades and a computer that won't mess with my mind anymore. I also made one special request and promised to do something in Her honor if She is to grant me that particular miracle. If it happens, I'll write about it for Pacific News Service, but let's just say I won't know until the next 12th of December.

A really beautiful thing happened when I was about to leave. As I was kneeling and bawling my eyes out, a stranger put his hand on my shoulder and gave it a good squeeze. Shocked, I turned around and saw his smile. I nodded. We both knew la Virgen would always be there for us, and more importantly, mankind.

terça-feira, dezembro 11, 2001

I'm at UCLA right now, praying that my finals came out OK. I'm supposed to meet one of my professors so that he can write me a letter of recommendation for a fellowship I am applying for.

This year has just been insane and it's getting even crazier as the days pass. Mind you, I use "insane" in the most literal meaning, as in I can't believe the things that have happened. About a year ago today, I was at Chapman courting a Mexican national who didn't like me because I talked about politics and myself too much. I was planning on applying to schools all over the US in an effort to get out of the hellhole that is OC. I was finishing up a story for the Weekly (which would be my first cover story) but constantly getting rejected for not writing good enough.

Fast-foward to now. I'm a grad student at UCLA who likes the atmosphere but absolutely loves the journalism life. I'm somewhat known in the community, both in good and bad terms, and am despised by the extremes of the left and right. I'm committed to staying in OC, but am also planning to leave for at least a year to try out my journalism chops. I'm courting a woman who's absolutely crazy for me but thinks I'm crazy and is crazy herself (sorry! :-). The world is insane.

But you know what? I like the world to be insane. I like being told that my stories suck by FAN then being called the only Latino alternative voice in Southern California by the last Latino alternative voice, Ruben Martinez. I like the fact that I communicate with my friends all over the country, and I have a bunch of them! In destroying my computer, I noticed that I have about 75 people in my address book, people that I communicate with in one way or another at least once a week. That is a lot of people.

I don't know what the future brings, where it will take me, or who I will be talking to, hating, loving, exposing, or trying to remember to forget. All I know is that I will be writing and I will be loving my life--whether I admit it or not.
Investigative journalism is so much fun. So is chess. And making a moron out of yourself. Eh...scratch that last one.

segunda-feira, dezembro 10, 2001

STOP THE WORLD, I WANT TO GET OFF!!!

This is not the title to my blog; it's my current feelings. Besides, that title has always fascinated me, although I forget if its the name of a play, a song, a movie, or all three. Interesting concept, but it ain't gonna happen. The only way I'm getting out of this world is through death, and that ain' happening for at least another 6 years.

Finals are gone. ! came, went, and is coming back Friday. I hope to see her then.

domingo, dezembro 09, 2001

Long day yesterday (Saturday, that is), long day ahead of me, so I'll try to be as succinct as possible.

The protest versus American Patrol wackos was great. I did not involve myself in the protest since I was taking pictures except to combat one man who was harrassing a girl, demanding to know if she had ever dated a Mexican. The guy called me a jap. I look Japanese?! And another guy thought I looked Pilipino. Geez, don't I look a little bit Mexican? I'm going to post bizarre facts about me in the huge empty space to the right of this blog. My various ethnicities will be the first facts.

I was taking pictures in general as I thought NS would be covering the event. Then the glamorous Commie Girl, Rebecca Schoenkopf herself, came to the scene (remember, I can refer to known people by their full names). She told me I was supposed to be covering the event. Great. I had no notepad and now I have to do a story. And the pictures that I took were not that good.

After the protest, Rebecca and I went to the Hub in Fullerton to get something to drink. We both got something called Blended Italian Ice which seemed like a cheap derivative of Slurpees but was pretty good. The fact that she invited me caught me by surprise. We don't talk that often but we had a good time. She was just asking questions about my life--kind of like a date but without the romantic tension.

After she dropped me off back at my car, I went home and tried to prepare for my one final on Monday. It should be easy. Then went to ER's birthday party. The whole gang was there: NGF, the married folks AA-S & MS, JA. The weird thing is that they are the gang, as they all went to Chapman together. I entered their last year, so I'm not as close to the group as they all are collectively. But we had a good time. I usually have good times at parties even if I don't talk to anyone.

! is coming today. So many things have happened in these past six weeks (which feel like they passed by so fast). I'm sure she has tons of stories to tell me. I can only pray that it's in the same context as before. I'm sure it will. And so I will sleep well right now.

sábado, dezembro 08, 2001

I saw the great Godard film "Breathless" in Spanish voiced by individuals with Cuban accents. A crappy jazz score was added to it. But the film was amazing; even more amazing now than when I saw it a couple of years back. The similarities between the film and my life right now are amazing. Even the dialogue between Patricia and Michel seems like the exact words of two people that I know very well. But I still say Truffaut beats Godard. Godard is too full of himself; Truffaut is a romantic at heart who knows love dies yet remains eternal.

GREAT QUOTE FROM FILM:
Patricia: What is your ultimate ambition in life?
Famous writer: To become immortal, then die.

quinta-feira, dezembro 06, 2001

There's some guy who sent a ridiculously long email to me about my Howard Stern column from last week. I respond to all messages sent in regards to my articles, but I deleted this one as soon as I saw it was a guy with nothing better to do.

As I opened my Yahoo! email account today, I got yet another message from him demanding that I read his letter. Now I was intrigued. I did not read his message but sent him a letter telling him to get a life. Now he has sent me yet another letter saying that I am afraid of him. So I sent him yet another response telling him to take a logic course (he called me a hypocrite yet nowhere in the article did I claim exemption from the Ugly American that I had described) I have the most adoring fans, no?
My thumb is killing me.

Of all the body parts that constitute me, why my thumb? I have no clue. I didn't smash it, cut it, or anything. Yet there's a sharp pain whenever it touches anything.

The weird thing is that I've had this pain before. And it lasts a day. Sometimes, I have the strangest pains.
GUSTAVO'S JOURNAL OF THE SUBCONSCIOUS, BOOK XV
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Bizarre. My family was going on vacation to Mexico. Not back to the rancho, though; an actual nice part next to the coast. Then I wandered off and went into a home in Pacific Palisades where American soldiers were bunkered down and Taliban troops were situated at the top. Meanwhile, the rich were at the side picnicking, similar to the first Battle of Bull Run. I remember thinking, "The rich will do anything for entertainment" and leaving in disgust.
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Computers annoy me to no end. But I am also grateful towards them. Without computers, I would have never started writing for papers, never would have kept in touch with countless friends, and a whole bunch of other things. But they do annoy me.

quarta-feira, dezembro 05, 2001

I've written too much today. And yet I have much more writing to do. But it's almost done...

Went to lunch with NGF today, who hates being called that since NGF feels I have not forgiven the stand-up that was this past Friday. Of course I forgive; NGF's excuse was legitimate. As I posted earlier, though, I forgive very easily but never forget. I kid because I love. Forevermore, said friend will be referred to in the domain of this blog as NGF. Besides, I need to put some code into this blog to attract repeat readers. How calling my friend NGF will do this, I don't know.

We had Thai food, which is the second greatest food on Earth (although Vietnamese is making a run for that position; just have to try more of it). I always end up ordering padd Thai with some sort of beef and bamboo shoot dish. I want to expand my palette, but the damn chantaboon noodles are so delicious I must order them every time. NGF and I had a lot to talk about and we promised to see each other again this Saturday, both at the Anaheim protest and at ER's birthday party.

In the meanwhile...if any of you ever discover that I have officially joined some sort of political organization, please give me a good kick in the head to wake me from my stupor.

terça-feira, dezembro 04, 2001

I usually don't talk at political gatherings, not because I am devoid of commentary but because I want to give others the opportunity. But sometimes, I cannot be shut up.

Tonight, for instance. A bunch of people from the San Fernando Valley invaded my beloved Anaheim to rail against Mexicans. I present now the speech I gave to the City Council that was composed in two minutes. Nothing amazing, just speech:

Gustavo Arellano, Anaheim resident, son of a former illegal immigrant. City Council Members: Today, we have yet another of what seems to be monthly circus gatherings where the same organizations bring up yet another hare-brained proposal or offer comments that would be hilarious if they weren't so ludicrous. The City Council largely ignores their recommendations and I commend the Council for that. However, I also feel that it is the moral obligation of the City Council to put an end to this charade and publicly out this group for what they are--racists.

At this point, the racists--who vastly outnumbered individuals like me--started booing vociferously. Order had to be implemented and I stayed quiet. When everything calmed down, I resumed:

They claim to be about principle, about fighting illegal immigration and saving our nation. But in hearing their remarks and reading their literature, it is apparent that they are demonizing Mexicans and Mexicans only. I urge the City Council to publicly condemn these individuals, the vast majority who are not from Anaheim and don't give a damn about the real concerns of our city. Thank you.

As I left the podium, I heard cries of "Go back to Mexico!" and other epithets. I don't care. Their comments only prove my thesis. And if Uds. don't believe me, visit Glenn's page, which is to your right.

Few good people showed up, amongst them FH, AC, DR. A stupid incident happened with SS. I was being interviewed by a Spanish television station (I eventually was interviewed by 3 local stations and came out in all of them--just my luck). I don't particularly like to be interviewed, so I suggested that they interview SS, who speaks fluent Spanish (hell, better than me). But they didn't want him because he wasn't Mexican. Stupid corporate media. They are as guilty as Spencer of racializing illegal immigration. I'm glad I'm not part of that.

segunda-feira, dezembro 03, 2001

One more week before ! comes back, but what a week it will be. A summary is in order:
MONDAY/TODAY: Got my take home final. Is pretty hard but I already did it. Of course, it is a process and I will continue to work on it every day until Friday (I'll explain why down as I progress in my summary)
TUESDAY: Protest in Anaheim City Hall against wacko American Patrol, CCIR, Harald Martin, and a bunch of other anti-immigrants. Might talk, might cover the event. As always, will be amused at the moronicies of both sides.
WEDNESDAY: Am supposed to meet nameless, genderless friend (who, from now on, will always be known as such or NGF for short) for lunch yet again. NGF says that our lunch date will be met; we'll see. Rest of the day will be devoted to working on both of my 15-page papers and possible card session with JAM.
THURSDAY: Day before Taco Bell benefit show. Will submit opening monologue to group to approve. We shall all bask in glory of magnificent Saturday protest--for about a second. We're not like that.
FRIDAY: Actual show. But I will arrive late as I am exiled at UCLA as usual until 8PM. Damn. Also, this is my self-imposed deadline for both papers as the weekend will be slammed (as I will now explain).
SATURDAY: Huge protest at Anaheim City Hall. See TUESDAY for list of who will be there. Have a feeling it will get crazy. Will be there but must make sure not to get arrested. I have finals to finish! In evening, going to ER's birthday bash. Will gorge on free food and burn CD's. Fun.
SUNDAY: ! arrives. What time? No clue whatsoever. In meanwhile, must study for only in-class final.
MONDAY: Final in morning. Emancipation for about a month

And interwoven in all this are the usual random occurences that I alternately love and loathe. Bring on the week, bring on the protests and papers. But give me some chocolate while we're at it as I haven't tasted it in ages. Preferably See's but Reeses Pieces will do.
DANCE OF THE STUPID: THE SEQUEL
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Same fan as before, same moronic arguments, same pendejadas. The fan is commenting on my recent Taco Bell article...
FAN
"Good Mexican food must be prepared in a suitably unsanitary environment."
This is so stereotypical. Your articles are never balanced. Must they
always have some racists remarks or bullshit? You should be writing for some white-supremacists web-site! All of the best Mexican food that I have had, even in Mexico, comes from a suitably SANITARY environment.
ME
How'd you discover I'm a white supremacist? Are you able to see the
picture of me with "88" tattooed on my forehead? Hey, if you don't like my articles, stop reading them. And if you have a problem with the fact that I'm writing articles, start writing articles yourself. LatinoLA accepts submissions from everyone.
And by the way, the best chorizo y tortas I tasted WERE in unsanitary environments, environments where I could taste the dirt and grit in the horchata and taste the blood of the pig. This is not stereotyping, this is the truth--my personal truth. And if you have a problem with that, then you have nothing better to do than to belittle the lives of individuals.
FAN
YOUR STUPID HUMOR DOES NOT HUMOR THE MEXICAN POPULATION. NEXT YOU WILL BE CALLING BLACKS "NIGGERS" AND THINK ITS FUNNY. HA HA HA!!! YOU SUCK AS WRITER AND COMEDIAN. STOP PUTTING US DOWN. STOP STEREOTYPING, YOU FREAKIN IDIOT!!!!

Why do I even bother, you might ask? It's just amusing. I love it when people claim to speak for millions as this fan does. "STOP PUTTING US DOWN." Who the fuck is "us" (sorry for my cursing, but it pisses me off)?! Ain't I a part of the "us" that the fan claims to be protecting? Of course not, since I don't blurb "Zapata" and "Aztlan" every other sentence. Fan has written critical letters to me for every article I've written for latinola.com except one: when I pointed out that Latino movies like "Tortilla Soup" hate Mexicans. No comment from fan there. Why not? Because I'm talking good about "us.". Hypocrite.
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Got my first final today. Fun, fun, fun!

domingo, dezembro 02, 2001

And one final comment: The "American Grafitti" soundtrack is one of the greatest albums ever released. And after years of pining and longing and searching, I finally own it. Thank you, EV for the discount of a lifetime. If you ever need a whupping in ice hockey, I'm here for you.
SUNDAY SONG
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George Harrison died this past Friday. The most unappreciated Beatle of them all, he was also incredibly talented. May he rest in peace. In his honor, I will post "Don't Bother Me", his first song with the Beatles on, fittingly enough, "With the Beatles." He wrote it when he had a cold, so the title is fitting of his mood at the time. It also has a funky Arabic sound to it that merely confirms why the Beatles are the greatest musical group ever. CAVEAT: Do not think that this song applies to me or my feelings right now. It doesn't, even though it really seems like it. I just like the song, is all. I'll post a song addressing my feeling later this week. Or just keep reading my blog...

DON'T BOTHER ME
(George Harrison)
Since she's been gone
I want no one to talk to me
It's not the same,
But I am to blame,
It's plain to see
So go away - leave me alone
Don't bother me

I can't believe
That she would leave me on my own
It's just not right when ev'ry night I'm all alone
I've got no time for you right now
Don't bother me
I know I'll never be the same
If I don't get her back again
Because I know she'll always be
The only girl for me

But till she's here
Please don't come near, just stay away
I'll let you know when she's come home. Until that day
Don't come around, leave me alone
Don't bother me

I've got no time for you right now
Don't bother me
I know I'll never be the same
If I don't get her back again
Because I know she'll always be
The only girl for me

But till she's here
Please don't come near, just stay away
I'll let you know when she's come home. Until that day
Don't come around, leave me alone
Don't bother me
Don't bother me
---
Came back from watching the 49'rs whip the Bills in football with my cousins, the brothers V and PM. I'm not football-crazy like them (they've worshipped the Niner's for as long as I remember, even through the lean years) but I do like hanging out with the boys. Good food, good drinks, good times. I like college football better, especially the option attack that so few colleges use nowadays. But when it works, it's heaven on the gridiron

Now is the final week before finals. What do I have to do? Nothing at all. Just writing. Now THAT is heaven to me. That and some chocalate. And a little canela wouldn't hurt, either.
One of the cool things about my lifestyle is that, although I do not go out much, when I do I stay out ridiculously late. Take tonight, for instance. Came back from MS's party, which was great. Met AA and ER there. They had a friend, which I think got annoyed of me around the 3rd time I said "oppressed masses" when talking to other people. Oh well. If she was so annoyed with me, she should have mingled with other people. But I do talk about politics too much.

Getting back to my cool point...now I'm going to MS's house to play cards and get drunk. Mind you, I barely drink and I'll barely drink right now. Maybe a rum & Coke, maybe even 2. But I hate getting drunk for personal reasons which I will not divulge. I'll get back home around 3AM. Not like I have anything else to do. My parents get a bit upset, but they also know I'm responsible and won't do anything stupid. I'm a good boy.

sábado, dezembro 01, 2001

My old lover is back--social activism.

Went to the Taco Bell protest today at the corner of Bristol and Segerstrom in Santa Ana today. Over 100 people. Awesome. No one from the Latino OC political establishment, of course.

I always claim that I'm politically involved and I guess I am, but I always feel to be new to protests and the intricacies of making people aware of the world we live in. My method of spreading the word is through journalism, but I enjoyed today immensely.

I talked to people in cars, people on bikes, giving out flyers and the like. I even talked to some kids who lived down the street in dilapidated apartments and had them chanting "Taco Bell, go to hell!" It was awesome.

I also annoyed the police officer assigned to lord over us. When he sternly asked FH to talk to him, I took a picture of him. He then asked to don't dare take another picture of him. What did I do? I said "OK", then when he turned around, I took another picture. SS told me later that the man said I was "pushing it."

I don't give a damn--or rather, I do. The Taco Bell issue is a moral cause, much more moral than raining bombs in Kabul. Am I a member of the Taco Bell campaign? Nope. Just a supporter. A very enthusiastic supporter.