Tuesday, August 31, 2004

One good deed, deserves another. This is what truly makes my day. :)

As I took my short lived break at 3 o'clock, I noticed a father of 2 children (boy & girl) a few tables down from where I was having my lunch. I took note of the happy kids (no older than 6 years of age), father in a wheelchair, and the pleasant interaction among them. Delightful sounds of laughter created a lighthearted atmosphere for not only their family, but those lucky enough to be around them. This caught my attention at first, but it was the switch of roles a few minutes later that aroused my curiosity. The kids gathered up their belongings, (without being told) while cleaning up after themselves. Like two little soldiers of love, the two little tots then pushed their father towards their vehicle out front. It became apparent that this was all routine for the three of them. The little girl's job was to open all the doors of the van; giving her father the ability to climb into the driver's side first. Her brother, a cute little bugger with a shaggy cut, was dad's wheelchair spotter. With dad secure in the driver's side, the little boy pushed the empty wheelchair around, waiting for sis to help secure it in the backseat. It was quite a heartbreaker watching the two of them desperately push the wheelchair up into the van. Getting ready to head outside to help them, I noticed another man, in his late 50's running to their aid. I came to the conclusion that the gentlemen was also touched by the efforts of the young siblings. After securing the wheelchair inside the van, the little girl looked up at the samaritan and smiled. Thanking him with a big hug.

It was a wonderful way to end my lunch.

--If you didn't know, Activist bike creator Joshua Kinberg was arrested 8/28/2004. Doesn't it sound familiar to be arrested without a charge while performing freedom of speech?!? American pseudo-democracy... best try into deceiving population ala "Big brother"? It's chalk, people. It's just friggin chalk.--

Anyone else tallying up all the idiotic arrests during the protests? We got a few more days left, let's get those bets in people.

**Liezelism stories will be back wih a vengeance sometime this week. Also, EvenFall movie premiere pictures will also be posted. Sorry for the delay**

Leezuhhl's blog really takes the biscuit. ;)

Two back to back posts? Don't get used to it. This kind of thing is as rare as a MC Hammer video playing on MTV... and MTV stopped playing videos YEARS ago.

Not the usual Monday morning, but an interesting one nonetheless. The bank, where I work now, was being audited yesterday. Lucky me. No one knew about this surprise visit. In turn, causing the team to work like a flock of chickens with their heads cut off. It wasn't until I reached the vault that I came to a realization that I was in the middle of our yearly bank audit. While retrieving my banking keys, of course. (the heavy breathing over my left shoulder was a tiny hint.) The lady resembled a cracked out version of Diana Ross--only younger. Too bad she sounded more like B.B. King. Oh, speaking of B.B. King... He played WolfTrap Sunday night. If I knew this ahead of time, I would have seen him singing the blues. What's the point of signing up for newsletters, messageboards, and Ticketmaster if they don't let you in on this kind of stuff?!

(I buy the Washington Post on my way to work. If I don't have time, I'll go online and print out the internet version. Thank God for coffee and news, huh? Oh, and StarBucks, too!)


B.B. King at Wolf Trap: The Thrill Isn't Gone

Just in case anyone still wants to know why B.B. King sings the blues, the 78-year-old legend complained at Wolf Trap Sunday night that Viagra is of little use to a diabetic. Fortunately, King still has Lucille, his famous Gibson guitar, to keep him company, along with three generations of fans.


Another "kooky" article in the paper yesterday was on a local tourney in D.C. on the ever so challenging, "Rock, Paper, Scissors" or "Roshambo". Apparently, it's not just for kids anymore! Drunks can get down and jiggy with this childhood game of mine! Rock smashes scissors. Scissors cut paper. Paper covers rock. That's the rules. Like'em or not.

Monday was just full of surprises for me. Not too long before I took my lunch break yesterday, I received a text message from a life long friend back home in the NJ/NY area (The REAL tri-state area) She's been trying to track me down, while stalking my other childhood friends in the meantime. To make a long story short: she's a "free sprirted" female who thinks on her feet, terribly opinionated, and was one of the protestors holding onto the "Pink Slip" posters for Mr. Bush in the protest on Sunday. If it wasn't for her e-mail and pic attachment, I would have never believed her. (She's quite the hypocrite hippie; therefore, I had to doubt her) She's one to burn her bra, use animal friendly products, and work as a manager at StarBucks in Willowbrook Mall. Way to go, you tree hugging lumberjack....


"Too often, we lose sight of life's simple pleasures. Remember, when someone annoys you it takes only 42 muscles in your face to frown, BUT it only takes 4 muscles to extend your arm and bitch slap the mofu upside the head...."


Yet, after years of being out of touch, she also had the nerve to invite me back north to NJ/NY for the upcoming Labor Day weekend. The last time I schelped out north, I drove my Altima along the NJ Turnpike for an audition in NYC. (Wanna Be A VJ 2) :) I hauled my ass for 3 1/2 hours, getting there in record time. I may just have to rally up my personal days with the bank so I can see some friends both in North Jersey and in the City. It's been years since I've returned back "HOME". I do miss real "pizza". (Trying to find decent pizza here in these parts is like finding meaning in a Pauly Shore movie. YOU CAN'T!) Too many of my friends in this area have traveled up north, while making me green with jealousy. I feel my time is coming soon. The motherland is calling me. Come to think of it, I haven't even gone to the beaches here in Maryland once this summer. Think I have no love for the Jersey Shores? Oh, I do! One of the best places to find of control mullets, leather outfits, teased hair, and people wearing at least 5 gold chains around their necks out in the sun. You gotta love Jersey, baby!

Monday's Night Cap: Nothing beats drinking at your local bar, and closing the place down with your mom (Steph), your favorite bartender (Vesma) and your favorite manager (Jason). These are my friends who I've worked with, and miss terribly. Kinda cool having the whole place to our selves. Oh, and the tab? I never get one :)

*Is it Friday yet? I can't wait for my 4 day Labor Day weekend. There's nothing planned for my long weekend or anything. I just look forward to doing anything but WORK the last weekend of the summer*

Daily Mantra (revised for Tuesday)

Will not give in to my Baskin Robbin's Chocolate & Peanut Butter ice cream cravings. Learn to turn away the chocolate goodness.

Will not give in to my Baskin Robbin's Chocolate & Peanut Butter ice cream cravings. Learn to turn away the chocolate goodness.

Will not give in to my Baskin Robbin's Chocolate & Peanut Butter ice cream cravings. Learn to turn away the chocolate goodness.

-On tv now: Clips of random protesting in the streets of Manhattan.

Protesters are a funny bunch of people. Who else can rally in the streets, assault the pigs, get maced in the process, and continue protesting with a sign that reads "Fuk Amerikas Prez"? If you're going to do this, please learn how to spell. 3 words: Hooked On Phonics.

Eh. Woke up early this morning. I'll go have breakfast over coffee and news before work.
T minus 3 days till my holiday weekend...






Monday, August 30, 2004

Honestly, your 15 minutes of fame is over...

*I know. I haven't updated. Blah Blah Blah.*

Ugh. I'm disgusted. (And it's not even noon yet) So in the midst of getting ready for work, while checking the news for the daily haps and listening to mindless chatter of our local news anchormen, I discovered some god awful news...

Paris Hilton is writing a book. Oh, Christ!




It's bad enough she thinks she has awesome fashion sense. Now this. She's screwed someone on camera and is on heavy download rotation via internet. (who hasn't in Hollywood?) And please stop "guest" starring in everything from reality tv shows to must "never see" tv. (If Gary Coleman did it, you know you're career is heading down the drain.)

One of the few things in life that I hold most sacred is the ability to write a novel. I may never write a book myself, but I admire those who can and do. However Paris found the time to pen "Confessions of an Heiress"; who the fuck knows? How does one find time between the catwalk and the cow tipping on a reality tv show? Lucky for her, with the help of former W magazine entertainment editor Merle Ginsberg, she wrote a "book".

Ugh. So I can chat about tons of happenings: USA kicking ass in the Olympics, convention in NYC, NASA charting a new course in outer space, the fun premiere I had attended the past Saturday night, or even as far as mentioning that college hoops is in the air, baby! But I can't...Hilton's book is just too much for me. It's Monday. I didn't need this kind of crap this early on in the week... You know you want it now, because that's the kind of literary enthusiast you are -- but you'll have to wait until September 7th for the Hilton book. *grumble* God. I envy she has a book, but I most definitely do not envy the fact she's Paris Hilton.

(End rant)

Side Note: Much to update about an upcoming 4 day holiday,(Labor Day weekend will be enjoyed), Dave Chappelle 'For What It's Worth' on Showtime this Saturday, rekindling old friendships, and my eager anticipation for the fall/winter seasons. (My favorite time of year)

--If the Chelsea Hotel is the rest stop for rare individuals, then Ms. Hilton's underpants is the rest stop for her book's publishers... :)

Sunday, August 22, 2004

Munch's famous painting "The Scream" stolen from Norway museum -again

It was the second time in 10 years that "The Scream" has been stolen.

Maybe it's time to update security at the museum, eh? Not quite sure why certain unscrupulous art collectors would buy the stolen painting or just flat out hire someone to steal it. Especially since it'd be both cheaper and legal to own a replica. No need to showcase the "real deal" off to friends at the next "tea and crumpets" gathering. What's going to happen to the painting now? Will it be held captive for ransom? Or better yet, sold back to another museum? Good luck with that.

*Thought: A museum curator has a primary function of being a good communicator in order to involve, inspire and educate the public about art collections. Now couldn't the curator at the Oslo Munch educate himself about securing the more priceless pieces of art on the walls without the use of "wire and cords"? Might as well given the painting to the thieves at the door as a prize for being the 355,046th person to come in to the museum. *Throws confetti, toots whistle*



*Thanks to SparkStalker from AS for his version of "The Scream".

Saturday, August 21, 2004

Washington Post Essay Rebutal

Two articles in a week. That's pretty good for not trying.
Wolf Trap's Double Bill: O.A.R. and the Police

Read the article by Paul Farhi, Washington Post Staff Writer
Saturday, August 21, 2004; Page C01. (Style section in today's paper)

"Whoever loves discipline loves knowledge, but he who hates correction is stupid."

New way to experience alchohol??

It is already becoming popular in Europe, but can liquidless booze make a frenzy here?? New Yorkers already have enough shit to inhale. (Homeless people, sewages that are backed up, foreign tourists, and musty taxi cabs...)

What other addictive inhalents can we endure?? <----- The link to the article I read can be found here.

I've been to oxygen bars before, and it's tough enough trying to look "cool" doing that. For $10 minutes I inhaled "flavored" oxygen. I was in Atlantic City, N.J. when I discovered this idiotic fad about a year and half ago.

It just looks like a water bong to me. Hmmmmm... Would I ask the bartender for a "hit" as opposed to the usual shot? Discuss.

Potius sero quam numquam. (Better late than never)

Such a lovely afternoon so far. It's been such a long work week for me. My first week at my new job and I could not wait any longer for the weekend to arrive. Whew.

Here's to my homie Allison. Holla at a sista, dayum...

At noon, I met up with Allison, a good friend of mine, for lunch at O'Donnell's in Gaithersburg. We've caught up with each other's lives over club sandwiches, fries, and drinks. :) Afterwards, we walked over to Cosi for conversation and coffee. We eventually moved ourselves out to the patio, sitting under the umbrella tables. The drizzling rain, lines of parked Benz's, and snobby teens crying over their boyfriends on cell phones were our backdrop.

I've been meaning to catch up with her for a while now. She's been wanting to meet for dinner & drinks in DC and in Old Town. Yet, with our conflicting schedules, there hasn't been much time to see each other. It was nice to see her again. She's one of the few female friends that I never want to have a falling out with. Allison, though quite a few years older, has so much more in common with me than any of my other friends who are around my age. And no, it's not because we're asian. (Earlier we established that we were each other's ONLY ASIAN FEMALE FRIEND) We've got similar issues/walks of life and it's been fun relating that both to ourselves and our friendship.

Right now, she's going through a divorce. I know that can't be an easy thing for her to go through. She pulls off a silent confidence about herself that I admire. I'm glad to have her in my life again. (Apologies for being a terrible friend) Just let me know when you want to get some drinks after work. You seem to frequent DC/VA. You call the shots. I'll just drink them. :)

Ending shout out to Allison.

Allison, Serendipity 3 is on 225 E 60th Street in NY. The frozen hot chocolate is to die for! *DROOLS* Desserts aren't too shabby either. (Make a reservation. The wait can get ridicously long, but well worth it.)

Anyone read this month's WIRED, yet? I just got it in the mail the other day, and "Ahh Nold" looks bad ass on the cover. Interesting reads in this month's issue. Also, SPIN has a funny article about the "Cartridge family". Videogame bands that take on 80's nostalgia to the next level... Fun stuff.




Thursday, August 19, 2004

One good thing about music, when it hits you, you feel no pain

Some Rock Fans Caught at Wolf Trap
Rockville Band's Homecoming Concert Marred by Dozens of Arrests
By Tom Jackman
Washington Post Staff Writer
Thursday, August 19, 2004; Page B01

Tsk Tsk Tsk. (Now, what's a concert without the luxuries of good drink and smoke?)
Disappointing? HELL NO.
Best. Damn. Concert. Ever. Yes.

I had a great time, (aside from all the mindless teenie bops & flipped collars) and I wouldn't change a thing about the show. Wolftrap is a great venue for performances. O.A.R. aka "Local boys done good" should expect an invite back. Or else I'm going to have to bust a cap in someone's ass. Download their LIVE performances. It'll do wonders for your soul.

Let's see if I've got this straight (*snicker*): Rick Perry (R)

Reported that Governor Perry's wife has left the Governor's Mansion in Austin. The alleged reason was that she found the governor in bed with another man. Rumored to have a gay affair, and... nothing.

Ahh-nuld Schwarzenegger (R), believed to have groped everything in California except a few renegade sea lions, and... nothing.

And now Jim McGreevey comes out and... all hell breaks loose, and he resigns. What's going on?

Oh, right: McGreevey is a (D). That's what.

:) I received this e-mail forward this morning. Enjoy:


What’s the New Jersey State bird? The swallow.
The New Jersey Turnpike has been renamed The Hershey Highway.
New Jersey has raised its terror alert level to lavender.
We know he doesn't like Bush, but this is ridiculous!
McGreevy’s not out of office yet but he’s already looking for another opening.

Now we know why McGreevey enjoyed "polling" so much.
What does McGreevey and the Isreali navy have in common? Jewish seamen.
The New Jersey DMV to now going to call a rear end accident a McGreevey
This gives a whole new meaning to stuffing the ballot box.
Star Ledger headline: “McGreevey Goes Down!”
It shouldn't take McGreevey long to vacate the governor’s mansion because his shit is already packed.



So, apparently my last blog didn't go too well with some of you. Hence, my posting of an e-mail forward this morning to lighten things up. I literally had 6 people bring up 6 different points of view in response to my post. Some replied with opinions, some with questions, and one sent an e-mail in regards to spirituality. The quotes, the environmental adaption, and the "acting" through life has thrown a few friends of mine up in a whirlwind. Fine. Let's revert back to tossing midgets and Breakfast Bitches 2, shall we? A lot of that blog was taken out of context. Like many times before, my ramblings will tend to be a bit off. (Like my mental stability) ;)

Side Note: (Oh, found out that a fellow comedy improver has the "stalking" skills and capabilities of a CIA agent.) I won't name names but I'll give you a clue. Name rhymes with "SMART". Great improv show by the DCICSC's last night!

And I'm off to work.






Monday, August 16, 2004

Faking It All Along...Quintessentially the muse of life

I hate to do it, but I must. And yes, there is valid reasoning behind the song lyric post. The song is Fortunate Fool by Jack Johnson. Let's never underestimate the true power of thought, my friends.

She's got it all figured out
She knows what everything about
And when anybody doubts her,
Or sings songs without her
She's just so mmm

She knows the world is just her stage
And so she'll never misbehave
She gives thanks for what they gave her
Man, they practically made her
Into a mmm

She's the one that stumbles when she talks about
The seven foreign films that she's checked out
Such a fortunate fool
She's just too good to be true
She's such a fortunate fool
She's just so mmm

At random, Media Player made this song selection while I browsed through my usual rounds of sites and tiresome e-mail spam deletion. As part of my daily computer ritual, of course. Listening to randomly played music is nothing out of the ordinary. Streams of consciousness were brought forth from this song, while placing a rude pause on my daily routine. (You have to pardon the loosely connected associations. "I think" is my personal motto.)

This all started from a conversation I had in a cab in route to the Prince concert at the MCI Center on Saturday night. (Fan-FUCKIN-tastic show.) (Which brought on a waterfall of ideas for me.) The conversation that evening began with the topic of family, while ending up somewhere between the discovery through connections and personal choices. Are we who we are today because of genetic coding or are we just a product of our many environments? My thought process is steering me towards the latter. Quite similar to a bet the characters Randolph & Duke Mortimer made in the movie Trading Places. (1983 flick starring Dan Aykroyd & Eddie Murphy) In the movie, a bet was placed to turn a homeless person into someone filthy rich while stripping away the riches of a wealthy man. The winner was determined by who would outlast the other in their new state of life. Randolph argued that men are born into a certain way of life while his brother Duke believed in environmental adjustment. The movie revolved around this argument and the $1 bet the rich old men brought on. (Ah, where we would be without the great 80's comedy movies?) Just because you were born into a silver spoon life doesn't necessarily mean you'll remain in luxury forever. Or vice versa.

Since many variables are considered in this case, such questions come to mind: Does upbringing dictate a specific future? Is religion a factor? Does single, divorced, or gay parents make a difference in a person's life? Is there a prime choice among the home, public, or private schooling systems? Republican or Democrat? Does goodnight kisses, hello hugs, and bedtime stories have an impact on parent/child relationships? Do all these things factor into who we become?

"We are shaped and fashioned by what we love." -- Goethe


I don't know if we can find who we truly are in the span of a lifetime. The simple fact that we put on different hats everyday, or personas, can confuse the genuine nature of our beings. In daily conversation, do you find yourself taking on a bigger version of you? Do compliments and gestures take on a life on their own? Is there a subconscious display of security, or lack of one? In a relationship (of any sort), do you let your guard down? Are you afraid there just might not be a connection? Or perhaps you quiver in the knees of the potential of making such a connection with someone? There's nothing to fear when you're being yourself. To remain reserved in this situation can only hurt it. There's a slight hesitance that changes action to reaction when attempting to share the many different levels of intimacy. (Often scares or turns people off.) You tend to question when someone is being "real". In turn, it creates awkward moments, lost conversations, and a quiet, lingering sadness. Don't fear failure when attempting to make a connection. You won't be able to associate with everyone in your life. (I know, quite the frown inducer in my opinion.) Never let your guard down. Always put your best foot forward. Never frown, because you never know who is falling in love with your smile.

Who we are is completely different from what we are as human beings. Current situations in life can dictate who we are at this moment in time, while future situations (yet to be discovered) can also help in this process. 14 years of Catholic schooling doesn't necessarily mean I'm begging to join the Franciscan Nunnery. It's about the choices we make. A freedom taken for granted. Your parents made choices, their parents made choices, your kids will make choices, and you will continue to make choices. You have the right to do just about anything you want to do. Nothing else matters. Live life the way you see fit. Some cultures believe in polygamy, while other societies deem monogamy their way of living. Some communities allow multiple relationships with the consent of everyone involved. The real facade is that I see things differently, and I stick to what feels right for me. Who needs the drama? If you give yourself to someone genuinely (and is kindly returned to you), the reward is far greater than let's say, any amount of etched numbers on the bed posts. Now does that define who I am? Or do my ponderings give you a different perspective of who I am? That's the thing, you never quite know when someone is being genuine with you or not. It's no wonder people have a hard time accepting and appreciating compliments. (myself included)

I can promise to be sincere, but not to be impartial.
-Johann Wolfgang von Goethe


When do we stop pretending along? Getting by, simply for getting by? I've learned that you can only pretend along as far as the relationships with other people take you. If that means you live your life your way; then let it be that I'll live my life without following the rest of the fold. To truly connect with people, you have to stop pretending to be that "uber, super contrived version" of yourself. You're fooling no one. Connections are sometimes made vicariously through unforeseen circumstances. If something or someone makes you happy, keep strong hold of it. The opportunity for enjoyment may not be there for long. A lesson I've learned, and a lesson I'll continue learning. Life is about finding those grand connections, so keep those hopes high. You may never know what you can learn about others, and eventually about yourself, if you don't make the effort to do so.

Life is a strange and bumpy trip onto self discovery. Though the paths vary in length and scenic routes; often enough, we find ourselves with epiphanies (or shortcuts) when least expected. The magic of life is that it's full of the unknown and the unexpected. Embrace it. Accept it. If you're lucky, you'll reach this destination, and maybe towards an answer to life's question, "Who am I?"

I'm quite the fortunate fool. Fortunate enough to be alive. I'm fortunate to understand there's more to life than materialistic and selfish needs. The art of living has given me the ability to be loved, and ability to love those I truly care about. Realizing I'm fortunate enough for being able to find a connection in the first place. Foolishly, I'll continue to question it all to death with my inquisitive nature. My insatiable appetite for spontaneity, laughter, lasting friendships, and new adventures may not always work when forming new relationships. No need to worry myself with the daily miscommunications of life. Someone will eventually figure me out. There's little room for people who don't understand the concept of honesty when dealing with me. You can't fake the art of living & loving. It's the fate of the gods to decide if the connection is right. You can't make someone love you. All you can do is continue to love and hope for the love to be returned. (Love from your mother, your uncle, your sister, your friend, your lover.) It's not so much as trying to make others happy. It's about accepting who are you, rather who you'll become, before accepting someone else in. Love, in every sense of the word, can be felt by fortunate fools like myself; however, it requires living life without the "pretending" state of mind.

It's a lonely mixed up tragedy
that rips apart my life long dream
and a lonely mixed up memory
that keeps me down when I just want to be free -Not what I wanted by Evan Olson


You're never the "real" you without taking part in a character of your self created environment. The innumerable facets of love will find a way into the many facades of life's masquerade. We pretend along in life, but do we transfer that over when it comes to love? Does love in turn create character?

I have wasted a few kisses on you-kisses I thought were special because of your smile and all your color and life. I used to think that was the real you when you smiled. But now I know you never meant any of it.... Shame on me for kissing you with my eyes closed so tight.
-That Thing You Do movie quote


The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of Hell, a Hell of heaven.

It was beautiful and simple as all truly great swindles are.

Lesson #1: Musicology

Saturday Night. Prince. MCI CENTER. FanFUCKINtastic show.

Shout out to Mr. Shawn Westfall. (Insert kick ass gang sign while holding a 40 oz. of 'St Ides) Don't Be a Menace to D.C. While Drinking Your 40 in the Hood. It ain't gangsta if it ain't St Ides. Fun times, fun times. The man never ceases to amaze me. Honestly, just ask his friends. He calls them Herbie and Ernie. We call Shawn insane. :)

(More on the awesome show later. For now, my morning crisis will have to suffice) Closet full of clothes; yet, nothing to wear. Somedbody's got a case of the Monday's...

This dress excacerbates the genetic betrayal that is my legacy.


Ugh, it's tough being a woman sometimes...

It's the first day of my new job. Wish me luck. I'll be at the Neelsville branch on the hill making minor duckets of a newfound job.

*Gosh darn my luck, I won't be able to get down to the Washington Convention Center to audition for American Idol 4. Um. No. *

Saturday, August 14, 2004

Never argue with an idiot. They'll drag you down to their level then beat you with experience.

Build a better Bush. How do you like your "Bush"?

Virtual bubblewrap. *slaps face into palm* Enough said.


(Le sigh. Blithering idiocy.)

Thursday, August 12, 2004

Au fait with much dismay

DC 101 was my radio station of choice when I heard Elliot (and the class) rambling on about current events. My morning Bethesda commute to work was bitch-slapped with disconcertion; however, it did make for an interesting ride to work.

600 lb Woman Grows to Couch, Dies

Filipino wedding guests eat victim

Honestly, I can't think of any other recent events more worthy of "made for tv" movies. Apart from my sick sense of humor lays an underlying saddening grace upon the human race. People will never cease to amaze the rest of the world with unusual, and often ill-mannered behavior. Richard Bey, Ricki Lake, and Donahue could have used these stories for higher ratings on their respected and cancelled talk shows.

As the Brits may say:

Oh well, it's horses for courses I suppose...


*Leezuhhl's Disavowal*: Fellow filipinos, couch potatoes, & talk show hosts.

Of a Revolution, indeed.

I went to see O.A.R. at Wolftrap on Tuesday 8/10/04.
O.A.R. are folk-rockers with an infectious reggae groove and reign supreme as America's top indie band. Best. Damn. Band. Ever.

(Mama Guru, thanks for coming out with me for a night of music. You're a cool chick. You're my dancing fool of a partner!)


What a beautiful evening, we have on our hands...


*Notes: Crazy Game of Poker was awesome, great jams all around (high energy from start to finish) Marc forgetting a line was hillarious, lots of freestyles Tuesday night (very cool), 8,000=Largest crowd they've ever played, the go-go drum session during Delicate Few was off the hook, there were parts in Crazy Game of Poker where they had the house lights come on and you could see every person jumping in their seats - SO awesome!, One of my favorite parts about this concert was the setting, think the temperature was stellar, (great feeling, not too hot, not too cold), Kickass venue, and the light show was absolutely sick..... Great show!!!!!

Opening Acts:
Howie Day
Graham Colton Band


Set List:
Hey Girl
Risen
Lay Down
Dareh Meyod
Wodnerful Day
Destination
Something Coming Over
Black Rock
Patiently
Right On Time
Delicate Few (with Andy and JP from Virginia Coalition)
Sunday Bloody Sunday
Encore:
I Feel Home (just Marc and Richard)
Crazy Game of Poker (with Ari from Ordinary Peoples)

The pics/clicky things are from the show. (None taken by me. All thanks go to Corinna from OARFANS.COM) We had orchestra seats, not too shabby.

I can't wait to purchase their newest album 34th & 8th (recorded live at the Hammerstein Ballroom) It's a double-cd set (18 tracks) includes bonus dvd with 7 live songs and bonus footage. WORD.

Non sequitur: Adams Morgan is the place where Kenny G. & James Taylor cross paths for a couple of drinks. (An idea beaten senseless, like a red headed step child) It's also a great scheming location for homeless people finding you street parking for a mere $1. Much thanks! ;)



Monday, August 09, 2004

proximo sed nolo fumigare

Unraveling the mystery in the communication between the sexes is as tiresome as searching for meaning in a Pauly Shore movie. Delving into such a mystery is similar to understanding the mystique of "classical music"; Both topics have numerous people devoting their lives to excogitating the facets of their studies with a desire to explore even further. The unfathomable potential for both discoveries makes the journey well worth the effort. Whether you are currently dating someone or a long-time aficionado, an understanding of interpretations will vary.

Women feel that men don't listen; men feel women talk too much.
Men say women are too emotional; women say men don't feel enough.


Some argue that Johann Sebastian Bach helped in labeling the Baroque Period (1600-1750), while others may feel that George Frideric Handel's Concerto for Organ "Cuckoo and Nightingale" was the masterpiece of early 16th century. (I'm inclined to mention Johann Pachelbel's Canon in D Major. By far, my favorite piece; It's melodic and animated tempo changes have been my weakness and long time love.) I'd be quite gobsmacked if I found any of my old music sheets. It's been quite a while since I've tickled the ivories...

Nowadays, having an interpersonal conversation is as irrational as great music. It is mad with its own loveliness.

Communication between the sexes has changed drastically over the past 40 years. Long gone are the days of "getting pinned" with your sweetie's senior pin. The days for the art of letter writing have been getting fewer and further in between. Various types of communication emerge and expand each day: Instant messaging, e-mail, fax, texting, on-line message boards, chat rooms, camera phones, etc. It's no wonder why men and women have difficulty conversing; there's a universal disregard for face to face conversation.

Roles have changed, but communication between the sexes has not. William Shakespeare had such a real grasp on the relationships between men and women. It's through his timeless work that has shown us that the relationships between the sexes is not easily translated, at times comedic, and often misconstrued.

...no sooner met they looked; no sooner looked they loved; no sooner loved but they sighed; no sooner sighed but they asked one another the reason; no sooner knew the reason but they sought the remedy. As You Like It, Act 5, Scene 2


You probably knew that men live in a testerone world, while women live on an estrogen planet. (I'd suggest using John Gray's book Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus as a door mat to wipe your muddy feet on.) I remembering reading that book years ago, hoping to find solutions to relationship issues. All I found was a new friend for the big dust ball underneath the coffee table. I never really understood the analogy with waves and caves; Quite the mind scrambler in my opinion.

Through countless girlie movies, late night bar crawls, boxes of Kleenex (used for different purposes by men and women, mind you) and hours of "Let me ask you this" surveys; I have uncovered many "slight" differences on the following topics: (Could the miscommunication unravel itself here?)

Sex: Men need it. Women say they don't. (Right) Women prefer 20-30 minutes of foreplay. Men consider the ride back to the house as part of foreplay.

Relationships: Man goes out with woman, defining it as "I go out with woman from time to time". While woman goes out with the same man and says "He could be the one". Man breaks up with woman saying "She's a bitch, anyways" and proceeds to calling her incessantly for the next 6 months trying to get back together. Woman breaks up with same man and dates his best friend.

Comedy: Women laugh at the silly and slap stick sense of humor, while men laugh at the midgets getting bitched-slapped in pornnos.

Bathrooms: Men have 5-6 items on his countertop. (toothbrush, comb, razor, etc.) Women have over 200 items laying around and about. Men are lucky enough to identify even 5 of these tolietries.

Grocery shopping: Women will make a list of what she needs and purchases these items at once. Men will wait until he can't suck out any more toothpaste from the tube and there's nothing left but a half stick of "I can't believe it's not butter" in the fridge before going to the store.

Laundry: Women will do laundry every couple of days or so. Men only do laundry when the piles of clothing cannot be dictated what's clean and what's dirty. There's usually 3 piles of "dirty" for men: Un-Funky (still can be worn 3 or 4 more times), Semi-Funky ( pushing it, but can be worn 2 more times if aired out correctly), and Truly Funky ( worn only if the two other piles have crept into this one. Making it confusing to distinguish what is actually clean) Heavy cologne usage usually follows.

Nicknames: Women will nickname anything and everything. Always adding a "Y" to the end of names. She'll nickname friends, her favorite foods, and sometimes her shoes: Baggy, Snacky, Katy. Men have nicknames, too. He usually uses endearing nicknames in reference to his buddies or when angry at something: Jackass, Dumbass, Smartass, Asshole, Dickhead, Shithead, Dick for brains, Douchebag, Assmunch, Bitchass.

Admitting mistakes: Women will admit to a mistake from time to time. The last time a man admitted to making a mistake was General Custer.

Dressing up: Women will dress up for anything: Watering the plants, grocery shopping, getting the mail, walking the dog, and getting her hair done. Men will only dress up for their wedding and their funeral.

Yes, there are many differences between the sexes. There are verbal and non-verbal ways of conveying information to one another. Communication doesn't require either party to utter a single sound. In fact, you can sometimes communicate louder in silence than you ever could with words. (Think about that the next time you're in an argument.)

What will emerge for men and women in the future? Will men stop listening in testerone? Will women stop speaking in estrogen? Hell if I know. Maybe Mr. George Bernard Shaw, an Irish novelist, playright and critic, can elucidate us with this quote:

"The single biggest problem in communication is the illusion that it has taken place."


Books, books, books. Not just for after dinner coffee conversation anymore.

My latest book discovery:
The Mists of Avalon by Marion Bradley
Story of King arthur and his knights told through the eyes of the women.

*If you know where I can obtain a used/new copy to read, please e-mail me. It's six degrees of Kevin Bacon. I know someone knows someone who knows someone who once knew someone who often spoke to someone about books who was once second cousin's to someone twice removed upon which that someone read and have a copy of this book...*

Email me mofu's. :)

Somebody's got a case of the Mondays...

Friday, August 06, 2004

Liezel's aversion to her void of narcissism

I am sporadically boggled with an unrequited self callipygous love.

The word callipygian means: Having beautifully proportioned buttocks.

"Pyg" is the morphonemic unit which means ass. Platypygian refers to a wide, flat rear end, and a "pygist" is a buggery enthusiast.

Though I lollop through life with dreams of becoming the next supermodel under 5"10; I have realized that self-love has been that condition in our spirits that allow us to live life without the self's doubt. I never fancied myself as being a "looker". Fearing of my sounding too pompous, my charming and quick-witted personality is usually what catches one's attention. In all honesty, I'm quite comfortable with myself. I have certain body hangups, to be sure, but it's more of what is deemed beautiful that keeps me skeptical.

Society has stamped a barbie doll delusion for women of all ages. In turn, creating a world of absurdity and needless jealousy. Note certain fad diets will consist of such: Having side salads with any fat free dressing, diet soda, low fat pretzels, cigarettes & coffee, skinless chicken sandwiches without the works, omitting french fries with meals, exploring flavored rice cakes, and learning to enjoy soy. Personally, I'm content with a slice of pizza and a tall pint of beer. I go to meals without the calorie counting so that I may actually enjoy eating. None of this "I'm full. I had a few jelly beans, fruit cup, and half a M & M" nonsense. Women have gone to physical extremities to keep pace with these "My Size" barbies. There are certain groups of individuals who have paved the way to anorexic & eating disorder hell; we usually refer to them as self-centered bitches. The first group are the "digitally enchanced" models who grace numerous magazine covers;often mistaken for being natural beauties. Another group are models/actresses who have one-liners in big budget films; proving not only are they beautiful, but can actually read. Their use of big words such as "overrated" and "over dramatic" will further their careers, indeed. The dancers are a rare group who never miss a beat or the opportunity to showcase more than just a bare mid-riff and cut off shorts in music videos. They also possess the uncanny ability to do just about anything in stiletto heels. Finally, the women who go under the knife on a weekly basis to keeping up their "looks" and their self-esteem.

It may be different for men, but I know that they are just as conscious about their bodies as women. Justin Timberlake will be my poor example of what a man may think is considered sexy to women. Sexiness varies on the man himself in my opinion. Some men will spend most of their waking moments in the gym in hopes of pumping some iron and raising testerone levels to new heights. Why do men need the excessive muscle bulk? If you can't swing your arms in front of you due to the bulkness of your muscle mass, how can you give out hugs? That's not attractive at all, fellas. There are also other routes men undergo to sprucing up their looks: Spraying shoe polish on their bald spots, overdoing exercise routines (while breaking your back & neck in the process), "combing over" the surviving strands of hair left on your head, sucking in the buddha belly when chicks walk by, getting calve or bicep implants to display a new & improved bodybuilder physique, or waxing the nether regions of the body to achieve the smooth "swimmer" look. I can offer a bit of advice; otherwise, avoid all contact with women from this point on. Men are expected to be the tall, dark, and handsome types. Not everyone can be Justin Timberlake, and we wouldn't want you to be! All we ask is that you get out of your local gym for the "yet to be classified" smells from the locker room has clouded your better judgements. Women are attracted to confidence, adventurous personalities, intelligence, sense of humor, and spontaneity. Stop worrying about your ear hair; we really don't give a damn that the hairs in your earlobes have a life all on their own. We like you the way you are. Body hangups and all. If you want to change your look because you want to look and feel better, we're right behind you cheering you on. Do it for the girl you stalk who lives downstairs; however, the plan of asking her out can be ruined knowing damn well she has a boyfriend who can beat you up.

My void of narcissism can only lead me to believe that I will never be crowned Ms. America. It's not that I wouldn't be able to take part in the pageant and do well as a contestant. I'm beautiful in my own right and I can live without the beauty title draping over my fireplace to remind me. I probably won't grace the cover of People magazine. It's also safe to say I won't be shaking my rump shaker in a music video anytime soon. I probably won't get my own reality tv show on Fox. I can forget about traveling the world and doing calendar photo shoots. I'd have to cancel my plans for getting plastic surgery and becoming a human floating device and playtoy for men everywhere. There was a time I wanted to look like the "pretty girls". In the past, I would have done anything to achieve that self-centered goal. Now, I've accepted the fact that I'm not like those "too beautiful" for real life women. Nor do I want to be. Simply put, I rather have someone fall head over heels in love with my ability to charm the pants off of people than have any physical attributes mask my inner beauty. ( I mean, I do have a great ass, but that's beside the point) Confidence is by far the most attractive characteristic one can showcase to others. I may not don the "barbie doll" look, but I sure as hell can rock a "Liezel" look with great pride. Beauty comes in all forms. In my case, it's packaged nicely in a petite and sassy asian chick.

All this is derived from a conversation I had with women bitching about their appearances during our lunch break.

And All That Jazz

*jazz hands* Chicago is my kind of town, baby. *jazz hands*

Here's my photo album from my Chicago trip. Enjoy!



Tuesday, August 03, 2004

S-M-R-T... I am so smart.

Put those thinking caps BACK on ya damn Republicans
I read in the drudgereport that Republicans are pressing plans for eliminating the IRS. All this brainstorming, and without their thinking caps. Now this is a tax cut we can truly do without as a country. If this were to happen, (which I'm pretty sure it's not) I'd probably get to enjoy fatter paychecks. Yet, I'd have to pay hell of a lot more for items I purchase. No, thank you. Taxes are a vicious cycle of cock-tease money laundering. Business pays corporate tax which then pays their employees with the money left. Employees get income taxed which then gets sales taxed. In turn, that money goes back into businesses to start the cycle again. Money does make the world go round, eh?

Liezelism of the day: IRS= Acronym for Insurmountable Raping Skills

Monday, August 02, 2004

Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.

Vincit omnia veritas.


Due to my exhaustion, (lack of blog writing inspiration, really ) I won't be posting a funny LIEZELism story and whatnot. At least not until I get my super strength back to its full potential. At the moment, I'm going to have to sum up my extremely ace weekend in Chicago with this wonderful picture. They say a picture is worth a thousand words. Yet I can only think of one word when I view this digital masterpiece. DRUNKASS.



Scene of alleged drunkenness
Date: Friday July 30, 2004
Time: Half passed the monkeys ass, quarter to its balls
Location: Drunk Tank. Room 919, hotel in Rosemont, Illinois
Victim: Liezel aka DRUNKASS, sprawled in all her "glory".

I am such a liquor lush... :) Don't you dare judge me. I likey the drinky.

Liezel's drunk quotes of the evening:
"Make it stiff!"
"I like it stiff!"

The quotes are a result from my endless cry and insatiable thirst for neverending "stiff" drinks by Drunk Tank bartender Josh. I still can't believe you thought you could CUT ME OFF. *snicker* That's like telling an anorexic girl that she's going to win the pie eating contest. It's just not going to happen, man. Not going to happen.

I'll return to my blogging idiocy when I've exorcised the jetlag demons out of my body. My apologies if you wanted an update or a Liezelism chuckle. I do have tons to share with everyone. Just keep your damn pants on! I'll return with more drunken pictures and tons of stories. Promise.

I'm off to catch up on some "light" reading material given to me by the orientation bitches of Chevy Chase Bank. Send some love. Call, e-mail, instant message, or smoke signal my ass. It's good to be home. Until next time, blog on, bitches.