merry christmas & happy holidays

just wanted to say merry christmas and happy holidays!

remember, that when you take away santa and religious stuff, christmas is basically a birthday party, so anyone celebrate if they want to.

i hope everyone gets what they asked for, i know i did, because i wrapped it myself. i'll tell you later, that way someone can be surprised for me.

stay safe, stay glossy, and if you are driving stay sober, remember "jesus take the wheel" is just a figure of speech, he can't actually drive for you.

xoxo

bonnquisha

dear movies, don't try to play bonnquisha

i don't like it when people try to play me. i don't like it when so-called friends do it, i don't like it when boys do it, and i especially don't like it when movie trailers do it. i'm sure i am not the only victim of the deceiving movie trailer. i am not referring to the ones that make really awful movies look good but rather the ones that trick you into seeing a movie when it's disguised as another genre. the trailer creates expectations and then you watch the movie and think: what was da hell was that?!

example 1: precious
 i confess, i still haven't seen it (i'm just never in that mood). but i have noticed the recent trailers started to feature mary j. blige's "i'm fine" and make the film seem a bit more fun then it really is. the ceo of the small business my mom works for was tricked into thinking the movie would be appropriate for his two kids under the age of ten. luckily, the inefficient detective stepped in before he went and told him that precious is not a movie for children and he'd be better off taking them to see the blindside or the chipmunk movie.

example 2: closer
when i saw the trailers for the movie i thought, "ooh romantic drama". i figured it'd be like: oh hey, i'm married to clive owen but really in love with jude law who's with natalie portman but really in love with me, julia roberts, but ya know it will all work out in the end because true love conquers all. ( i see now this doesn't make sense at all)  but no, that movie was just fucked up, no happy ending, no true love, just some fucked up shit. i distinctly remembering that sammi and i hated it right after seeing it then we talked to other people on our way out and they hated it too! eventually, after rewatching the movie, i liked it. mainly because my expectations were totally different and i could appreciate it for what it was, a lovely reminder that love is so blah blah blah. 

example 3: inglorious basterds
so, i know with tarantino to expect the unexpected. but after all i have heard and seen, you know what i wasn't expecting...spoiler alert...this is essentially a foreign film, even when they were speaking english i didn't understand half the things brad pitt said with that wonky-ass accent. i sat there and thought oh are you for real? don't get me wrong, i have no problem with foreign films, afterall,  amelie is my go to movie when i am feeling down with the world, but damn someone could have given me a heads up. i have adhd...i have to be in the right mood/medicated to do all that reading! i understand they probably left this fun fact out of the previews in order to not scare off viewers like my dad, who fell asleep before the one hour mark, but still, you didn't have to play me like that, i would have watched the movie regardless.
in the end, i really liked the movie and my brother loved it despite that there was "not enough scalping." i will have to watch it again with mother, i imagine she will like it despite there being "too much violence" and lack of lapdances.

sometimes i wish he'd literally take the wheel, im tired of driving

today was a long day. the inefficient detective had to have surgery on her hand to correct the carpel tunnel she's had since she was pregnant with me. (sorry mom) the roads are still a mess from the blizzard so it took longer than usual to get there. when we arrived they informed us that because of swine flu people under the age of 18 could not visit. this meant i had to drive my lil bro home. after driving him home then driving back to the hospital, i was a bit exhausted. JTTW...literally, i'm tired of driving.


so, everyone at the hospital knows my mom, unfortunately everyone is actually just middle aged women and not that hot doctor who wanted to give her a spinal tap. the surgery was a quick one. when i was called back to see her in recovery she was loopy. the first thing she asked me was "how is my face?", in regards to her new foundation color. she then said "i should have bought the purple pajamas," she has her priorities for sure. i have no clue what she was talking about. i drive her home, where three of my brother's friends are in the basement. 

it's now midnight, they are all still here. my brother was able to convince my loopy mother to let him have a sleep over. i decided to make some home made eggnog, whiskey and all. i talked to my friend sammi about life, how she is spending her christmas eve, and the jersey shore. i am tipsy, so i wrote this ode to the princess of poughkipsie(i'm to lazy to google the correct spelling):

ODE TO SNOOKI

your orange skin and jet black hair, 

you are the envy of girls everywhere.

with yo backflips and pussy poppin',

you keep the jersey shore arockin'. 

whether you're italian or jewtina, it's all the same. 

queen guidette for life, don't ever change.

 for those who don't know there was an internet rumor that snooki is jewtina and therefore the imaginary lovechild of myself and my bff sammi, since it's currently impossible for us to have a love child. oh well, just another thing to add to my bucket list.


i'd like to end this post by saying RIP brittany murphy. you were in some of my favorite movies: clueless, drop dead gorgeous, freeway. you were taken too soon. that was way harsh 2009. i hope you are rollin' with the homies in heaven.

the art of meeting men...i've been doing it wrong

this instructional video teaches us single women the art of meeting men. and guess what guys, i've been doing it wrong. i haven't been carrying around stuffed animals, or wearing shirts with slogans, or spilling my drinks on men (but remember not red wine you don't want to be remembered for the wrong reasons). i also learned that 40% of men suffer from shyness and 80% of men have been shy in their life. who knew?! i can't wait to tell the guy i pick up from my local TGIFridays that it turns me on when men talk about their feelings.

i was aroused, then i was furious...then i was aroused again

the jersey shore. i really thought i had seen a lot of trash tv in my lifetime. to quote the great sue sylvester, " i was aroused, then i was furious." i watched the premiere with my jaw temporarily stuck to my boobs. despite considering myself a writer, i have never been a huge grammar stickler, but even i struggled for a while with the persistent butchering of the english language and every other grammar rule in existence. i wasn't sure how to feel, was this the most disgusting two hours of television or the greatest show of my generation?

my reaction too. i know you are watching this silver fox. 

by the time the two hours had ended i made up my mind. the pros outweighed the cons. this show is a true gem. honestly, i never want this tomfuckery to end. everything from the immaculately groomed eyebrows and glossy lips, on the men of course, to the use of bumpits and zebra like hair colors is perfection. the duck phone and the nicknames, i am a sucker for nicknames. "the situation", "snooki", "sammi sweetheart", "jwwow", and the "kim kardashian of staten island" all earned spots in my heart like the liquor that coats their livers. i haven't been addicted to a show on mtv like this since i was in high school.

however, some people find this show terribly offensive to italian-americans, new jersey-ians, and humanity in general. to those people i say, STFD & STFU:

1. no one thinks these self-proclaimed "guidos & guidettes" are representative of italian-americans as a whole. every race/ethnic group has their unfavorable. latinos have chulos & chongas, white people have rednecks, black people have all those black people searching for love on vh1, the list goes on and on. and may i remind you that there are "asian guidos", "arab guidos", "greek guidos" and even "jewish guidos". i know that the term guido was an ethnic slur, but as with other derogatory terms, after a few generations, the youth, never having experienced the pain associated with the word, takes it on and gives it a whole new meaning.

the fact is, the people who fit these stereotypes do so by choice, no one forces them to be on the show, to put layers of spray tan on or blow-dry their hair to new unimaginable heights. so, to all the italian-americans who are grossly offended, as someone who is 1/8 italian (it was news to me too), i say, the only thing you can do at this point is just accept guidos/guidettes as your embarrassing cousin that you just can't take anywhere...kinda like kanye west.

2. people of new jersey, i realize only two of the cast members are actually from new jersey, thus making the ties to people of your state slightly unjust, but please shimmer down, it is a show on mtv, not exactly the source for heightened sophistication. i understand you must be still reeling from the aftermath of the real housewives of new jersey, but remember you still have the movie garden state to fairly represent you.

3. this is a reality television show!! the point is to find the most obnoxious, self-absorbed people who happen to fit a stereotype, usually by their own choice, and then put them in situations that push the limits of reality and/or absurdity. no one (in their right mind) looks to reality tv as a guide to life. yes, it is trashy, obnoxious, and at times anything but real, yet, from time to time that's exactly what viewers need. watching reality tv provides people with an easy way to escape their own lives while reminding them of how "normal" and stable they really are. reality tv is great because we can laugh at them instead of laughing at ourselves. remind us of how good we have it, except for the shows about rich people. personally, as viewer, it is effortless/mindless entertainment, after all there is only so much mad men i can watch.

in conclusion ( i feel like i've written an essay), i think people need to take the jersey shore, along with all shows in this nature, with a grain of salt. as ridiculous as their lives may seem to us it isn't as ridiculous to them. we all make lifestyle choices but not everyone's are as entertaining to watch. for most of these people/characters, they wouldn't be fun to watch by themselves or living their day life off the shore, it is the ensemble effect that creates the drama and the humor. except for snooki, i will watch her in anything. team snooki FTW!

ps. do you think the guidos realize scarface was cuban? and don't be a smart ass and tell me the original was italian b/c that is tony montana in the poster. maybe it's just a thug thing, idk.

 

coming soon

over the last few weeks many of you (the people i know who read my blog) have commented to me via gchat, comments, etc about a phrase i use: jesus take the wheel.

 this sentence was originally in a carrie underwood song. i've never listened to it but what this phrase means to me is literally jesus take the wheel. for one reason or another a situation calls for jesus to take over because it is a mess. sometimes i realize jesus took the wheel, like on thanksgiving, i had a cold so i couldn't eat like a regular fat ass. sometimes,  jesus needed to take the wheel but decided not to, like everytime my family goes to costco or the jersey shore.

so, my friend sammi, like jesus is also a jew, suggested i do a jesus take the wheel wednesdays where i write about ridiculous things where i think "jttw".  so if you have any suggestions for topics please leave them in the comments or gchat me or text...yall know how to find me.

disturbing things

the internet is a weird and scary place sometimes. one wrong letter in a web address and you will see things that will haunt you for the rest of your life. i don't even need to give examples of the freaky shit i've seen, because you have probably seen them too. then sit and watch youtube clips of other people watching it. fucked up shit.

well, two friends of mine, sammi and agnes, pointed me into the direction of one of the most disturbing things i have seen in a while.

mylifeistwilight.com

some might wonder why i hate on twilight so much. a part of it has to do with me being against its propoganda nature disguised as a teenage fantasy novel. another part has to do with my firm belief that it encourages unhealthy desires and relationships. finally, another part has to do with the fact that if i read those books between the ages of 11-14, i would have even more complexities about men then i already do ( if you aren't aware of my complexities, please go back to september's blog posts and read about my love/hate for carrie bradshaw)

but seriously this is some scary shit:

Today I ate at burger king I sat next to a life size Edward sticker poster and then tried peeling it off the window but it was to hard. When I left there was another one on the door and I said aloud "Bye Edward!" when I turned to my left there was a girl starring at me! Lol it was worth it. MLIT

Today I had twin boys and named one Edward and the other Jacob. MLIT

Today I asked my boyfriend if he would hold ice to his lips for a minute before he kissed me, so I could pretend I was kissing Edward. He did. MLIT

do i even need to do commentary on these absurd statements? i mean, i don't even know what to say.  i am truly amazed at the world today...it's a cray cray place.

santa will always be on my naughtly list

when browsing the mall with my aunt, we came across one of my sworn enemies. mall santa. she joked, "hey do you want to get your picture with santa?" i replied, hell no, i hate santa. loud enough for this creeper to hear. obnoxious and immature, i know, but then again i have my reasons.

for those of you who don't know, my brother is nine years younger than me. when he was born i had to go with him to take pictures with the easter bunny, write letters to santa, and stand in those dreaded lines to sit with him and pretend he was the real santa. when i was thirteen, my friend and i accompanied my brother to talk and pose with santa. this santa, was a darksided santa. HE PINCHED MY BUTT! that's right friends, i was sexually assaulted by fucking santa. in hindsight, i regret not reporting him to the police, or even the mall police, but i was honestly in such shock over it. he is supposed to be jolly and friendly but not that friendly. i told my mom the story but until this week, no one else.

when i see clowns, i get petrified, but when i see mall santas i am filled with rage. as in i want to legit go bonnquisha on their ass but i restrain myself because i know this could end up scarring other innocent children for life and also probably have a few years of probation. maybe sharing this story will help me to get rid of some of this pent up anger.

i still love christmas just not those tall, fat, white men, who lurk in the mall disguised as lovable old men.

the inefficient detective wants to be a youtube star

ever since i was little, i knew my mom wasn't like the other moms. the other mothers looked...dumpy? frumpy? they looked like they had kids and just completely let go of themselves. on the other hand my mom always looked young and stylish, well she still looks young and stylish thanks to great dna (black don't crack yall) and forbidding her from shopping in stores like coldwater creek and talbots ( no offense if that's where you shop...) she's kinda the cool mom from mean girls, if the cool mom cared more about her kids going to ivy league schools than their social standing.

a few weeks ago i had a movie marathon with the inefficient detective while the men of the house were at a tournament in new jersey. we alternated between my choices and her choices. she picked depressing ass movies like the pursuit of happyness and a romcom, definately,maybe. i chose generation kill and death proof.  always a realistic and logical viewer, the inefficient detective had qualms with the ending of definately, maybe but also told me she didn't want me driving because the ghost of "stunt man mike" might chase me down in my suv. she did however love the song that played during the lapdance.



last nite i made mom a mixed cd with some lady gaga and the song mentioned above. as i was making some dinner, "that mexico song" came on. that's when this awkward interaction went down:

mother: that was the best scene in the movie. we should learn that dance.
me: huh?
mother: we should film it and put it on youtube.
me: whaaaaaaaaa?!
(mother starts to re-inact the dance beat for beat)
me: oh jesus take the wheel.  (yes, i actually said that)
mother: we could send it to amin.
me: ohmygahhhh
mother: you don't think he'd like it. who else could we send it to.
me: i am not doing that
mother: or a pole dance.
me: ohhh noooo.
mother: what? i'll be famous.

i was able to laugh this off as another one of the inefficient detective's diva moments or something like that. if she ends up doing this, i promise to post it. but what i forgot to mention was that my brother was also present for the whole thing. he didn't find it funny. his reaction was something like this:

thanks a lot tarantino. 

what i've learned from twilight (and true blood)

NEVER DATE A VAMPIRE

last nite, i was one of the millions of women who went and saw the midnight showing of new moon. i've never read the books or even seen the first movie sober, but i was fascinated by the whole possibility of the wild experience, so i went with the inefficient detective, her friend, and her friend's daughter (who is a twilight expert). we arrived a little before 11 and there was already a huge line. of course the second we walk in i immediately spot an old friend from highschool of mine (thank god i didn't wear sweats) we stood there with heaps of diehard fans wearing team edward and team jacob shirts, men and women, and one awkward guy who was alone and talking about how he had already seen it. someone asked me, "what team are you on?" i responded, that dude in the wheelchair. to be honest, i have never read the books and while i don't get the fuss over edward, i refuse to be a pedophile and fawn over that poor underage boy. when the doors opened, there was a stampede bigger than black friday, i was pushed and shoved as hoards of fans tried to get a seat. it was a big theatre and that was very unnecessary.

there was a crazed excitement in the air as we sat for another 30 minutes before the previews would even start. i tried to read a book but i was distracted by the wide array of fans that continued to trickle in. there were the frantic teenage girls and guys, the boyfriends and fathers who looked scared or constipated, the young women, the emo men, and the 35+ female crowd. i tried to keep an open mind but many of the young women i watched walk by either severely lacked social skills or were over 250lbs. i honestly think i could have written a thesis or ethnographic study about the experience. then movie starts. there are squeals and sighs. the movie wasn't dreadful or anything, just very, eh okay.

so to my main point, what i learned watching the movie (and some true blood) was, never date a vampire. why? because they are controlling, emo, and abusive. what they do is they find themselves a very bland dumb girl (bella swan/sookie stackhouse) who for some reason, everyone loves and fawns over,despite her lack of redeeming qualities. the vampire puts said girl in danger, usually just by showing up with their emo pale face. they then create a dramatic situation to save the girl, they usually end up killing one of their kind. this forever binds the two as the vampire feels that they must protect her forevah. in return, the girl loves the vampire and sees the beautiful soul that no one else does (bc it doesn't exist, you dumb bitch). over time, the vampire tells the girl what she can and can not do.she wants him to make her a vampire but he refuses to do so. this causes the girl to be even more insecure then she already is. then for one reason or another, the vampire leaves his damsel, even though she is in danger. she becomes depressed, almost suicidal, dilusional, and self-absorbed. but don't worry, a shapeshifter or werewolf will protect her. she will want to love him but she can't bc she still loves that dead  mother fucker. after she bonds with the doglike creature, the vampire returns. he is always thankful to the dude for protecting her but gets all mad and shit because the girl may have considered moving on with her life. asshole. sensing he is losing his power over his female, the vampire will try to legally bind the woman to her by proposing marriage. romantic right?

so let me reiterate my point. DON'T DATE VAMPIRES. unless you're a masochist or something.

sixteen forever

after a grueling krav maga workout, i needed a stretch. as i tried to see if i could still touch my toes, a girl from class came up to me and asked: "what grade are you in?" my immediate response was grade?huh?. i replied oh, i'm not in any grade. she then tells me, "i'm going to be 14 a month from today." i say, i'm 22. Disappointed, she responds, "really?! oh. you look so young."

at first i felt really offended. how dare she think i was young enough to be her cool teenager friend. i complain to my mother and her friends who all tell me how great that is and how flattered that i should be. they said i am a little too young to appreciate the mistake.

but the thing is, i've looked sixteen for the past ten years! thanks to early onset puberty, i was 5'5 by the time i graduated elementary school, with birthing hips and a C-cup bra. people used to think my brother, who was 3 at the time, was my son.

i don't want to look old or anything, everyone knows i worry about premature aging. but i don't think it would be so bad to look maybe 18?

inefficient detective thinks:

me:jajajaja
inefficient detective: what are you laughing about?
me: oh someone made a fake robert pattinson cover as people's sexiest man alive.
inefficient detective: i don't think he's all that. there could have been better edwards. i can see you as bella and eric (true blood) as edward...

yeah...okay?

another tale of the immigrant family

after a long family adventure at costco (did yall know the one in ny sells louis vuitton purses?), my aunt called my father and had a longish conversation in greek. the only words i really understand are hello, goodbye, yes, thank you, and some various curse words. yet, usually i am able to pick up the nature of the conversation based on change in tones and the use of the word, "neh". today's convo was confusing though, it started out sounding very serious but then my dad was laughing occasionally. i figured it had to be about yiaya, my grandmother. i was wrong. sort of.

the story starts off a few weeks ago, nah, it starts forever ago. basically, my yiaya has had problems with her neighbors since the turks invaded the greeks in cyprus. when she came to america, she always had some sort of bizarre issue. the most notable being when she started feeding the neighbors 3 cats, the cats eventually moved over. there was a fight between the neighbors and my aunt & yiaya because yiaya basically stole their cats, even though she doesn't see it that way. sadly, last year, the obese cat killed itself...it fell walked off the balcony. RIP fat cat. 

so, a few weeks ago, my grandmother was hit by the neighbor's car as she reversed or something. however, we didn't find out till a week later when my dad told me i had to babysit my cousin while they took her to the er. what the family failed to tell me was that my cousin was recently getting over swine flu and i spent the next few days paranoid that i contracted it. (my immune system is less than stellar, i need to up my vitamin-C). edit: yiaya is okay, there wasn't any damage from the accident

you are basically all caught up now. which brings us to the phone call. 

last night, the same woman that apparently hit my grandmother with her car, saw that the light in my aunt's car was left on. i guess it was late and she didn't want to wake anyone, so she went in the car (because it was open) and turned it off herself. today, she informed my aunt of this. my aunt's response? to call the police of course. why? to have them make sure this woman didn't do anything to the car. because if this neighbor was really out to get them, she would knock on their door and give them a heads up. my dad tried to talk my aunt (who is a judge) out of this nonsense but it's too late.

you're right martin: shit just got real

the beauty within aka precious part 2

at the suggestion of my friend jenny, i read this review of the movie precious. i'm not claiming to be an expert on anything but i am merely responding based on my point of view and basic knowledge of the film industry.

When Push Comes to Shove

david edelstein, amongst other things, found her appearance to be "shocking" and compared its use to a john waters film (he did the original hairspray.) commentators attacked edelstein's critique prompting him to engage in a defensive tit for tat with some of his attackers. some responses called him insensitive or ignorant, other responses touched on issues of race and class, and responders began responding to each other in what turned into a debate about the film and ultimately blacks in hollywood. the only thing that is clear to me at this point is that this film provokes a lot in people.

some people commented that the character looks exactly how she is described in the book and therefore that is why the particular actress was chosen. as if this was supposed to mute arguments about the weight and skin tone of the actress/character. not true. since when is the film industry known for accurately  adapting anything? they could have easily gone with brandy, who supposedly was considered for this role years ago. but the filmmakers made a deliberate choice.

what exactly the film makers are trying to evoke with the appearance of the main character, i can't truly determine (for myself) until i see the movie. everyone will react differently based on their personal background, experiences, point of view, etc. but all people who think we are just supposed to ignore what she looks like and to focus on the "beauty within" are just fooling themselves.

putting race aside, hollywood loves to use "fat"/"ugly" people to show the beauty within. why? because these are motion pictures, they have to show us these people are the underdogs. and what better way to illustrate the idea by making them "ugly" or "fat". then these "underdogs" are supposed to push us to think that it doesn't matter what you look like, it's all about who you are.

the ultimate underdog

lately, i haven't really felt the urge to blog. but while i was watching tv tonight ( ANTM & Glee) i had this sudden realization that the thematic element of the "underdog" was being thrown in my face. maybe it's the recession. ANTM's season was devoted to short models. Glee's episode was all about the underdog: the gay, the handicapped, the mentally challenged, the dumb jock, etc. but what really got me were the commercials for two upcoming movies.

precious & the blindside

warning: i am about to write something that may be viewed as completely absurd.

after watching multiple commercials for these two movies, in between the hour long avatar commercial (james cameron: are your metaphors supposed to be that obvious?), i realized that there seems to be an ultimate underdog in american cinema and maybe pop culture.


the poor youngish black person, wait, correct that, the poor youngish black overweight person.

can someone explain this to me? honestly. because i really can't pin point why exactly poor fat black people produce more tearjerkers than poor people of any race. seriously. and it feels like the more obese they are, the more tragic their story has to be. do you know how much i've cried just watching these previews.  slumdog millionare can't compete with this shit.

maybe this is an extension or combination of the: "mystical negro" and "whatever you would call the opposite of the sassy black friend" trope in films (google it). it's ironic that this comes from the same society that constantly tells us that we need to be thin.

and for those who think this idea is absurd here are some examples:
-effie in dreamgirls
-michael oher in the blindside
-precious in precious
-oprah (when she was coming up)
edit: bubba-forest gump; that dude in the green mile

also note that 3/4 of these examples are (based on) true stories. i am not sure if that is a factor or not.

i'm going to go research this now to see if anyone has actually looked into this idea.

i am no longer amused

oh jon gosselin. at first it was kinda funny to watch him parade around in his too tight ed hardy shirt with his pierced ears and act important. it was amusing to read about his bizarre obsession with jews. it was hilarious to watch niecy nash tell him like it is. but now this jon gosselin thing has reached heights of melodrama that i can no longer handle.



i didn't even watch this shit. honestly. just the whole premise of him storming out of an interview bc his lady hoe told him to think about his kids or something makes me want to pull a tanisha (aka 1/2 of my inspiration)

like sand through the hourglass

my life is pretty redundant these days

i wake up between 9:30-11:00
make breakfast.
read the news: variety, ew, ontd
read the real news: cnn, washington post
watch something: really depends on the day
read something: a novel, a guide, industry blogs
make lunch
send out some cover letters/resume
make food for the bro
read more
socialize. eat dinner. etc.

gchat through out the day.

exciting stuff i know.

another one-liner

" i don't know what happened to all my jewish jewelry"

- the catholic inefficient detective

the inefficient detective does baseball

so cliff lee is not asian? matsui is asian?

this is the response of someone who doesn't actually pay attention to the game.

babies on the brain

i've always been one of those women who knew i wanted to be a mom. the sight of babies and little kids always warmed my heart, even as a kid myself. when i was younger i was obsessed with those anne geddes pictures of babies dressed up as flowers, animals and stuff like that. when my brother was born i was so excited to take care of him, mind you i changed his diaper only once.

my brother and i were always well dressed children. when i was baby my parents were still young and poor but they spent what little money they had to make sure i always looked good. this may seem ridiculous to many but that probably means you've never met my mother. naturally, i get frustrated when i see people dressing their babies like fools. i understand not everyone can afford to get their kids expensive clothes but i've browsed the baby aisles of walmart and target for baby showers and i know that there is affordable cute stuff. AND if you are grocery shopping at trader joes then there is no reason your son should be wearing little girl leopard print pants. (this child was not old enough to make this decision on his own). my point is, i am all for dressing your kids well, it's a reflection of you afterall.

however. i draw the line somewhere. that would be celebrity babies/children, well actually the people who comment on the style of celebrity babies. i went to instyle.com today and on the home page was:

"Little Star Style: Sophisticated Suri and Maverick Matilda!"

"Suri Cruise and Matilda Ledger are already making their own waves in the fashion world—and they are not even 5 years old!"

the blurb discusses their personal style and even polls readers who's style they like more.
it's sophisticated suri v. maverick matilda.

all i could think was: 

 really people? it's one thing to think aww that's cute but it's another to analyze the clothing "choices" of the spawn of celebrity children and then having grown women and gays decide which child has better fashion sense. i am all for developing a personal sense of style but you know why these kids have great "style"? it's because their mothers' can afford to get them expensive clothing. sure they may pick out their clothing themselves but they are picking from the best of the best.

 i mean if you really let a child go all out and dress themselves without any adult supervision then they will most likely turn out dressing more like this.

i'm just saying. 

it feels like fall- saturday

this past weekend was the epitome of autumn.
saturday

my mom sits on the board of a non-profit in dc which helps children and families in need. she came up with the idea for their fall event, a pumpkin patch. to most people this may seem very redundant. a pumpkin patch in the fall big deal, but this event was for kids and teens who have never had the opportunity to go to a pumpkin patch. since it was her event we had to be there hours before hand. the plan was to wake up at 8, leave the house by 9, stop at the convention center to pick up my dads marathon crap, and get to the site by 10 am. of course it did not work out this way. we left the house on time as it drizzled. we get to DC by 9:25, good timing since there was no traffic. as we are driving into the city my little brother calls.

brother: dad said that you need an authorization letter to get his packet
me: umm, excuse me, he didn't give me any letter
brother to dad: she said she doesn't have a letter
brother: dad says just write one
me: we are about to get onto constitution avenue!!
brother: just write it on paper
me: we are in the car. (i then see that constitution ave was closed) ugh bye!

so typical of my dad, having the bro call because he knows i'ma be pissed. it turns out half the roads are closed so we waste 15 minutes circling around trying to get into the city. it is then that we realize we are running low on gas. as we drive through "the ghetto" we find it nearly impossible to find a gas station, correction, a working gas station that will take a debit/credit card. we finally find a bp with a dunkin donuts, we think, that must be legit right? my mom, frustrated can't get her card to work. she has to get an attendant who informs her she can't use her debit card, she swipes her credit card and has to type in her zip code because a lot of stolen credit cards are used at this gas station. lovely. we zoom out of there and quickly arrive at the site.

"there are NO balloons"-inefficient detective....

"and most importantly have fun"

absurd find of the day: the g-thrust. an instructional video for a sex toy for better thrusting. if you look carefully, you will realize this is just a plastic board with some straps. i pray that i never meet a pathetic asshole who owns one of these. i know he wants to give me a g-rush but ill think he's g-limpdicked and get the g-fuck out of there. but in all seriousness, i haven't laughed at "sex" this much since i was flashed in the locker room when i was seven.

 

clarification among other things

i've been bed ridden for 3 days because i am teething (wisdom teeth). seriously the most pain i can remember, the only thing that helped was old school techniques, rubbing whisky on my gums and drinking hot toddies. it's feeling a lot better but i am yet to touch solid food.

there is something that i have to clarify. my mom read my last post and was very emotional. i'm not confused or ashamed of my racial/ethnic background, i was just expressing the hurt and confusion i experienced as a child that impacted the way i view myself. i wasn't trying to be like all, "woe is me" and shit but that is sorta how it came out. at the end of the day i love being bi-racial, multi-ethnic, however you want to look at it, i grew up with a hilarious mixed family, lots of culture, and a nice tan. i don't sit and ponder my race all day, it is something that is usually provoked by certain circumstances.

speaking of circumstances, my friend sent me an article about an inter-racial couple being denied a marriage license in louisiana. besides being extremely racist, this is completely ILLEGAL. a lot of people are shocked and it has sparked discussions and debates, it makes me sad, but at least it forces people to realize that racism still exists in this country.

in other news, i am so close to living the dream of watching mariano rivera pitch against carlos ruiz in the world series (viva panama)!

part 2 of my multi-racial thoughts: stuff white people like

i was reminiscing about my old college days when i had a higher b.a.c and a social life. those were the days of early 2009. i came across the pictures from my birthday party, my best birthday of college and maybe even ever (excluding my quince) it was a themed party of course, a theme i decided on to honor a part of me i ignore, my white side. it was a "stuff white people like" party. i told my guests they could come dressed as any white stereotype they wanted or personal ethnic stereotype, but white people could not come dressed as another ethnic stereotype. i was not about to support racism. everyone got really into it, myself included. i chose to wear all sequins, tacky new money white girl (think kim from real housewives). my blacktina mother did not understand at all, she said "bonnquisha, aren't all of your friends white? aren't they going to be offended?" oh the inefficient detective. i showed her the blog and explained to her how a) it was a white person who came up with the list b) being offended was one of the things on the list and c) being half white allows me to do so. i know it sounds juvenile but  it was a way of embracing my "whiteness". i'm currently 30/129 on the list.

ever since i became conscious of the implications of my mixed race, i have had complications with my white side. this is deeply rooted for two key reasons which i will lay out in no particular order.

1. my greek dad
in stringent racial terms, my father is a white man. however, he is also a greek man and an immigrant. he came to america at the age of 20 to go to college with the intention of going back to cyprus after finishing. growing up in cyprus, a newly independent former british colony, his english had/has an unusual accent (one i've never seemed to notice). as i grew up, he slowly became more american. for example, my brother never had to go through the painful embarrassment of having a father wear a red speedo while all the other dads wore trunks. now my dad runs marathons, wears new balance shoes, listens to conservative talk radio, and embellished his house key with an american flag. but even though my dad looks white, i didn't feel that i grew up with the american sense of whiteness i was surrounded by.

2. where i grew up
this is a big one. i grew up in the dc suburbs, in virginia, a state that fought till the end to keep interracial marriage illegal in the 1960s. while a lot had changed by the 1990s, i still witnessed a lot of unspoken prejudice, the glares and the stares, the whispers of older white women. i went to a predominately white elementary school with a small handful of asians, a couple black kids, two other latinos, and me, the soon to be tragic little mulatto. it wasn't until i was about seven that i experienced a form of racism for myself. it's one of those days you never forget. i wrote my college essay retelling that page from my life. i was in after school care, day dreaming about jonathan taylor thomas when this girl i had know for years, i still remember her name and her smirk, came into the makeshift teepee to inform me, "your step-dad is here to pick you up." those words still resonate in my chest, for a little girl, it was hurtful and heartbreaking. "he's my real dad" played over in over in my head but i didn't retaliate. i didn't tell anyone, not the teachers, not my parents. i kept it to myself for ten years. this was the beginning of the end, the end of my naivety, the end of believing that i was just like everyone else. in hindsight, i wish it didn't have a profound effect on my identity, but it did. over the years, there were  ups and downs, some kids called me a "spic", some said i wasn't white, others would literally poke my shirt and say "what are you?" while i still had white friends who were accepting, the damage had been done. i slowly but surely distanced myself from identifying as white. it was like a defense mechanism, we can be friends but i am no longer one of you.

even though i am older, it is still a difficult connection to make. while it's not fair to classify an entire race based on the actions of a dozen or so children, i consciously and unconsciously damaged ties from personally identifying as "white". i say damaged and not severed because when i am being asked to describe my racial background (after my ethnic background) i still check the white box because i feel not doing so would be denying my father. but even that is still new to me because it wasn't until very recently that i had the option of doing so.
eventually, i will write about being half-blacktina.

till next time...

...um what?

after waking up at 7 am and not hitting snooze ( to try and accomplish the painful task of online-reservations) i read that President Obama has won the Noble Peace Prize to everyone's surprise, including him. now, everyone who knows me well knows i do not like to talk about politics. if anything, i like to class myself as a fierce independent who has a decent ability to look at all sides of an issue. HOWEVER. this is something i do not understand. Obama has been president for 8 months. he is apparently being praised for inspiring hope and a vision of a world free of nuclear arms. hmmm.  it seems to some commentators that this is some sort of sign of encouragement and hope that he will continue thinking and stuff.

EDIT: supposably, according to the assoicated press; "More often, the prize is awarded to encourage those who receive it to see the effort through, sometimes at critical moments."and the nomination deadline was february 1st?! he'd been president for a week.

GTFO!

umm excuse me, but i haven't received anything for my "efforts" since the 4th grade when we started getting real grades.

when i read  that this is about him wanting world peace, i immediately thought of this clip. forward to 4:07. they wanted world peace too and they didn't get a crown let alone one of the most important awards or what not.


i don't even know.

if you think i'm tired today, wait till you see me tomorrow

i think it's about time i write about one of my all time favorite obsessions, the ROOM. this film is a true gem of cinema. it is both one of the worst movies ever made and the greatest movie watching experience. everything in this movie is wrong. everything. but, if loving the room is wrong, then i don't want to be right.


i discovered the film through the other half of the tap dancing duo (mino). back in january, we watched the youtube clips repeatedly, quoting them incessantly. what i understood was that, in the director's eyes, the film had the "passion of tennessee williams" it just went horribly wrong in the most fabulous way. so in march when i was in need of some retail therapy i decided to splurge on amazon and pay a whopping $7 on amazon for the so called "worst movie ever made." i rallied up a group of friends grabbed a few bottles of liquor and hoped for the best (or the worst). within the first five minutes i was literally rolling on the floor with laughter. the dialogue, the make-up, the editing, the sex scenes (oh i mean love scenes), the cinematography, the music, they were all perfectly terrible. no matter how many videos you see or articles you read, absolutely nothing can prepare you for your first viewing. i was lucky enough to have friends who enjoyed it as much as i did. when the movie was over we were deciding when we would watch it again. the room took over our lives, subconsciously . it was almost like a drug and we needed our next fix. but like drugs, the room is not for everyone. i have friends who say they want to see it but i just know it's not for them. it's an acquired taste if you will. the movie has garnered a cult following and over the summer it seemed to have peaked, people sent me links and messages to a video abc news did on it and i thought, yeah, i know bitch, the star of the film sent it to me months ago. (yeah i friended two of the actors b/c i'm a groupie).

as a budding writer, i have found that the ROOM has slipped it's way into my writing. mainly with my over use of the phrase, "oh hi..." and "don't worry about it". while it hasn't inspired my creative process immensely apart from an accidentally failed short film this summer, it has given me the hope that i too can make it some day.

i decided to write about my love for the room is because i miss it. i haven't seen it since july. the reason is, this is not a movie you can watch alone and watching it sober is also at your own risk. i tried watching it alone once and it was depressing, without the group atmosphere you just focus on what a crazy mess you are watching instead of enjoying the ridiculousness of it all. when you watch it with friends, every time is a different experience, you notice different bizarre facial expressions or bones popping out, you hear different things or laugh at different parts. my favorite scene always changes as does my favorite line.

my recommendation: if you like campy films and if you understand that this movie was supposed to be a drama ala tennessee williams that went horribly wrong, you will enjoy this. 

still cleaning

i'm still cleaning my room. when i say cleaning, i mean, going through everything i own, including baby clothes and reorganizing, throwing things out, or donating them. I'm up to my high school/ college stuff. I found a journal from junior year of high school and frosh year of college. it's funny to read my thoughts and aspirations but it was also annoying because all of the entries were extremely self-loathing but whatever. i'll blame it on S&TC. some funny quotes:

nov 2003: "did you know that "another one bites the dust" has subliminal messages? of course you didn't you're a fucking journal."

june 2004: " I got a 3.8 average this year, which really fucking sucks."
 

oh goodnes. i also found a script i started writing about some girl working in a record store. must have been during my pretty in pink phase.
anywhoo, must clean.

fall by locitabonita featuring Balenciaga

the good, the bad, the fugly

it's been almost a whole month since i started blogging. this really is quite the accomplishment for me. i also finished the first rough draft of my second pilot. since i don't have a deadline, i will revise at my leisure. i had a fabulous dinner and shopping with agnes where we ate delicious red velvet cheesecake and i purchased way too much lace. she's the only person in c'ville that i can share the cinematic masterpiece, that is the room. it's been months since i've seen it. i'm going through major withdrawl.

anyways, so this week i'm going to post: the good, the bad, the fugly.

the good


is it sad that i enjoyed this more than i enjoy mad men sometimes? i love sesame street parodies. i'm not sure which one is my fav, probably "law & order" but monsterpiece theatre was amazing!!

shout out to my girl rachel!! btw- where is slimey?! he's my all time fav!

the bad
an almost perfect episode of glee was ruined by one thing. that preview for next week's glee. the wife and her fake pregnancy needs to GTFO! i can't even enjoy her funny one-liners because i am consumed with hate. if it doesn't stop, i will have to watch it on dvr and watch modern family at 9pm instead. also, just a tad annoying, can we get the songs to sync a little bit better, we know they are pre-recorded but they could make a little effort to make it look like it's not. lazy mofos

the fugly
this is a toss up between: people poorly mixing black with brown (just stop), kim's boobs last nite in real housewives (put them away), and jon gosselin (how dare you make an appearance in my dream last night).

happy weekend!

tragical misspellings, emo poetry, and my forgotten career as a writer

i'm in the process of completely overhauling my room. i've donated about 5 bags of shoes and clothing from the age of 12-21. it's taking forever because i somehow found a way to cram stuff into every empty space in my room. last night in a fit of insomnia i started cleaning off my shelves. i discovered my forgotten life as a "prolific writer".

the first thing i read was my marbled notebooks (pink & black) from first grade. i literally laughed out loud at some of the things i wrote. some were for school and some were in my own journals. i also noticed that my drawing skills have not improved much since the age of seven. except i now draw regular star instead of a bunch of the star of david.

the next thing was my "private adventures" the first one dated may 28, 1995. my handwriting and spelling improved a lot. unfortunately, there were only six entries. i have never been able to keep a journal or diary for long. seriously, writing in a blog for a whole month is a true accomplishment on my part.

i then discovered two softcover homemade books. one was entitled "Poems for everyone". I can't figure out when i wrote these but I'd guess between 5th and 6th grade. The handwriting was better, the drawings were still shit. The poems were slightly emo and contradicting. talking about dreams where i'm never lonely and dreaming of "hours of privacy." the other was a dalmatian fabric with an untitled story copyright: 1997. it was a story about kids in florida getting a puppy. I was impressed with my story telling skills. There was a nice about the author in the back with a picture of me probably days before i went into puberty. (i was an early early bloomer). it said:

Bonnquisha Bruchetta (it doesn't actually say that) was born in Washington, D.C. She likes to write about exciting events. She plans on writing about a group of friends and the things they do. ( i totes did that three weeks ago!)

I briefly looked over papers written in 10th and 11th grade, including my attempts at poetry. I only got one C (oh high school), the paper was "well written" but i missed the metaphor completely, whatthe fuckever hester prynne! I think my issues with poetry was i was always trying to rhyme ( apparently at one point i wanted to be a songwriter). but it was funny reading classmates comments. the one thing that i don't understand is, who the hell these depressing love poems were about. then i found stuff about richard rodriguez and i thought NEXTTT!

finally i read my diary, sporadically written in between June 2000 and August 2004. Only 32 pages were written. It ranged from the shallow thoughts of a 13 year old to the critical thoughts of a 17 year old. I wrote hysterical things like, " thanx diary", "no hotties", and "how mature i am now".

i don't know why i completely dropped creative writing when i went to college. i was probably drained from being forced to write terrible poetry and in my stage of wanting to be carrie bradshaw. i found notes on a script i started writing during senior year, unfortunately i can't find the actual script. i think i may start a series of posts of retyping word for word, misspelt or not, some of my amazing finds and my response at age 22.

missed connection: mom's hot doctor

people say a change of scenery helps with writers' block. i didn't think it would be the waiting room of a doctors office. thankfully, i always have a notebook and pen in my purse (or should i say, snazy vintage leather backpack). by the time mom got called in to see the doctor it was time for me to go to my doctors appointment, a whole 1 building away. my doctor was this nice but dowdy woman who asked questions like, do you have a job? no. do your friends have jobs? not really. what do you want to do? write. she doesn't know what to say after that so she gives me that look that people with legit jobs give. judgmental much! i soon discovered that i can not get automatic refills of my meds, this whole time i thought it was just my doctor being weird and trying to just make me come more often then necessary. but noo apparently it's a controlled substance b/c people abuse it (effin slackers).

so i leave my doctor to find my mom in the waiting room. she says don't panic (of course i panic) but i need to go to an er for a catscan. i try to keep my cool by writing my script in my moleskin notebook (i'm so white). my mom doesn't have to wait long because she was going in for headaches. we get to her room and she immediately throws a fit over the dressing gown.

mom: i'm not wearing that, that's ugly.
me: mom, you have to.
mom: why can't they make nicer prettier ones?
me: because they spend money on medicine and stuff.
mom: i'm not wearing that, that's for sick people.
me: you are a patient in a hospital.
mom: you wouldn't want to wear this.

i then try to help her put on the gown, neither of us could figure out what was wrong with it. the nurse comes in awkwardly and helps. apparently a lot of the snaps were undone so there was only one sleeve, it was backwards, yadda yadda, we were inefficient. then mom was like i need a lipstick, so i hand her one. and she's like nooooo, not this color, give me another one. then, her doctor walks in. sighhhhhhhhh. he was a breath of fresh air in his green scrubs. he was tall and blonde and he had bulging biceps. ( i don't usually like blondes). as he examined my mom and what not, i just starred at his arms and tried to see if i could spot a wedding ring. my mom was like, pay attention, you may have to make decisions for me. he basically said he was going to do a cat scan with a possibility of a spinal tap. he leaves. and i tell my mom he was buff.

mom: did he have a ring?
me: nope.
mom: well, when you leave to get your brother, tell him you just graduated from an ivy league school and you can make decisions for me.
me: uhhh, wha...really? you have to say i can make decisions. that makes no sense.

anyways, i leave to get the bro, notice that all the other doctors are old hags. my mom really has bizarre guardian angel. i come back an hour later. mom had the cat scan. it was clean. the doctor was pushing for the spinal tap. my mom was all emotional and says let me think about it for a few minutes. my dad takes my brother who is passed out on the chair home.

mom: he's really pushing the spinal tap.
me: i think he wants you to stay longer (hint, hint)
mom: you are my daughter.

mom didn't get the spinal tap.rude. (j/k...) we went home about 10 minutes later. before my mom went to sleep she asks: are you going to google him? i replied no, he has an uber generic name, i won't even waste the .9 seconds typing it into google. i guess it just wasn't meant to be.

#2: will find sensible boyfriend to go out with and not continue to form romantic attachments to any of the following...

alcoholics, workaholics, commitment phobics, peeping toms, megalomaniacs, emotional fuckwits or perverts.

bridget jones's diary

i spent the weekend feeling very my big fat greek wedding/ bridget jones-esque...sans hugh grant & colin firth btu with the same amount of culinary mishaps, awkwardness, & booze.

my brother admitted to wanting to set me up with some guy he knows from open mat at gymnastics but didnt after finding out he is only 20. my brother also basically told me that he needs to approve of the guy i marry and it really doesn't matter if the guy loves me as long as my bro thinks he's cool. my brother for some reason is like an old greek man who reminds me of how old i am. he loves to quote my big fat greek wedding:

"You better get married soon. You're starting to look... old!"

btw: i'm 22.

my mother also told me i need to meet someone. she was a bit more specific. over 6'2, not ugly, approved by her and my brother, nice family, good education, supports himself ("i can't support you and your boyfriend"), and not a terrorist ( i don't know why my mother thinks i'm going to marry a terrorist...she reads too many novels or something).

my dad hasn't said anything recently but i remember him telling me i didn't have to marry a greek. oh how sweet. though he said it would kill my yiayia (grandmother) if i brought home a turk.

so this sudden pressure to go and get married had me thinking, what kind of guy do i want to marry?

i guess i'm looking for someone who: is mentally stable, decently educated, doesn't want to live in virginia forever, straight, good sense of humor, no history of addiction or stalking, not intimidated by my education, no felonies, not ugly ( i can't dare to mess up the gene pool), chews with his mouth closed, good hygiene. i know some of those requirements may sound odd but that probably means i've dealt with someone like that or i know one too many people who are clearly dating a gay man. but really...i don't know. am i reaching for the stars here?

nice star wars sheets

ahh glee. i am almost a fangirl for this show. almost. i can totally forgive its overuse of high school stereotypes. ( i mean some of them are true i guess) and i can see that they are going to develop other characters (at a glacial pace). but the thing that is keeping me from being completely obsessed is this fake pregnancy fuckery. i see what they are trying to do here, the love to hate her character. but i dont even hate her, i just hate this lame plotline. it's not entertaining, it's annoying. i literally tune out when i hear the word baby. i really didn't like the idea in passions, didn't like it in the 45 sec of labor pains i watched, i kinda liked it in the room but i highly doubt that is the path glee wants to go down. with that said i'm pleased with the show and i just hope they will show merecdes as more than just a sassy black girl/fag hag aka ultimate big girl stereotype.

on a completely different note.

if there is one thing a lot of people don't guess about me, it's that i'm a comic-book/scifi nerd. not a huge one, i don't collect anything, but i dressed up as batman at age 2 1/2, i dream of going to comic-con, and last may i saw x-men then 15 minutes later i saw an advance screening of star trek, then i saw star trek the next night again. i bring this up because i inherited from my parents, mainly my dad. while my brother was watching star trek iv (the one about the whales) i began to think that my dad kinda looks like patrick stewart with hair. a few hours later my brother said dad looks like a young lenard nimoy. so i'm asking yall to settle a family debate. and if you have another suggestion, please let me know.BTW the inefficient detective said he looks like richard gere. this was after i made the collage but she might not be as far off as she usually is.( i mean she's known the man since she was 19) who do you think?

im on the line, one open mind

i have been on a pretty intense tears for over a month now. hence the title of my blog (everybody wants to rule the world), my ringtone (head over heels), as well as the titles of some of my posts. tears for fears has been heavily played on my itunes and its a permanent fixture on my "writing" playlist. i'm pretty sure my mother listened to a lot of tears for fears when she was pregnant with me ( and probably a lot of wham!) so i've always had a natural affinity towards the band. but, my reason obsession was triggered by something much more profound- the literal music video.



the video currently ranked number five on the huffington post's list of best literal music videos.  i only disagree with two of their rankings, mainly bc i can't stand creed, even fake creed. but i love under the bridge and total eclipse of the heart. there isn't much to literal videos: take an "artsy"/absurd music video and change the lyrics to match what is actually happening in the video. if my dad can understand it than so can you. (i'm not saying my dad is dumb. he is just been kind of a fob lately)

anyways, i also discovered this today. a true gem. i'm a sucker for this song and there is always a small tiny place in my heart kanye's ridiculousness. i can only hope that if aha every reunites and performs this song, that he will rush the stage and dance. 

...or whores in my head

while reading my daily reads i stumbled across a few articles about designer Mark Fast using "real size" models in his show during London Fashion week. while the act in itself causes a stir in the fashion world a lot of the attention was also focused on a stylist's resignation over the Fast's decision to use these "plus sized" models.

The Fast and the furious: Stylist at London Fashion Week resigns over designer Mark Fast's decision to use size 14 models

what i like about what Fast did was that he didn't make a big deal of it, he didn't announce to the world he was putting in 3 models (UK size 12-14 which i think is US 10-12) in his show, he just put them there, in with the other models, as if it was no big deal. Fast's designs were ready to wear knit-wear so it was the type of collection/show that could do that, and i applaud that.  maybe it's because i'm guess what you call, "in-between", i'm not thin or small but i'm not what is considered "plus-sized".

i've always been a person who has admired fashion, no matter how lazy i get with how i dress. but i've always understood why fashion uses extremely thin models. model's size it's not something i really complain about as long as they are naturally thin and not anorexic (and yes, you can tell the difference).  originally, models were just supposed to be living/walking hangers, the attention was supposed to be on the clothes.  but over the past few decades, the attention has shift to the models and their sizes (among other things). now it's an endless debate over models versus "real women". i actually really dislike the terminology real women, as if models aren't; yeah they were blessed with amazon height and unfeasibly fast metabolisms but they are still real women as well. i mean why don't we debate how ridiculously tall all these models are thin or "plus-sized". wait nevermind, tyra tried that and it's silly.

my point is, i'm all for the inclusion of women of any size to strut down the runway. but more importantly,  i am for returning the focus to the clothes themselves.

concept attempts

i'm currently working my way through what some call writers block. it's beginning to make me antsy and cranky. last night i took some nyquil and went to sleep in hopes of being ready today. instead i made tea and watched last night's rachel zoe project.  i am the type of writer who can work independently but i really thrive with a deadline. i think i need a volunteer to be my pretend deadline holder and force me to send them my work on a weekly basis or something.
however, watching rachel zoe styling cartoon characters inspired me to style some of my characters. since i'm sorta hateful toward my dragging piece i went to the episode i wrote two weeks ago. some of my friends have read it. so they might appreciate/understand these a bit more.

Eva by locitabonita featuring Forever21

dani by locitabonita featuring Forever21

Becky by locitabonita featuring Forever21

cage becky by locitabonita featuring Stella McCartney boots

another tale of the inefficient detective

i really can't make these stories up. my mom really isn't a pretentious person, she doesn't care about famous people and doesn't know who half of them are. she retold this story on our way to the redskins game, still not caring about her inability to recognize people (or as we know symbols).

back in 2005, my mom was doing some work in the white house. she was in the roosevelt room trying to finish something for an upcoming trip when some man wanders in.
this is the basic gist of the conversation. 
mom (busy and not in the mood): exqueeze me but who are you?
tom: oh, i'm tom.
mom: nice to meet you tom, can i help you?
tom: ah i just have a headache so i wanted to sit down for a second.
mom: umm okay, well i'm working....what are you doing her today, tom?
tom: i'm here with my team. (apparently he was trying to hint to her who he was)
mom: oh that's nice. (still doesn't care or know what he's talking about)

tom sorta lingered around and then some girl comes in all giggly. he signs something. mom still doesn't know or care. eventually tom has to rejoin his team. after he left, my mother goes back to the office. when she walks by she notices "some statue with a football on top" (seriously mother!) she starts telling some coworkers about this bizarre occurrence and the crazy girl who was all giggly. one coworker goes, that was me. everyone else was like, ummm are you serious? they google a picture of him and ask her if that's the guy. she goes yes that's tom! everyone else goes "that's tom brady." mom is like, whatever he was bothering me.

stay tuned for the inefficient detective's second run-in with that tom guy. ( i need her to retell it again)

oh i'm just sitting up here thinking

it's monday and there is lots to blog about.

first of all i'd like to shout out to duckie for winning an emmy. love him. hate that show. it almost makes me tear up when i think that charlie sheen is the highest paid person on television for two & a half men.

anyways....

toddlers and tiaras
omgahh. wtf is this show! my mom called me up to watch an episode with her which i ignored for about 30 minutes before eventually trekking up. it was horrifying. these little girls look like miniature women. they wear more make up and use more hairspray then i use in a season. and then they change into their choice outfits, which happen to be miniature versions of skanky halloween costumes. a rockstar, a sailor, a firefighter who "hosed down" the judges, and a little cop who twirled her handcuffs. it made me realize that the striptease in little miss sunshine really wasnt so far fetched. these stage moms try to make it look cute but it is absolutely skanky. the only valediction i felt while watching the show with one hand over my eyes was that the ultimate winner was an effing fat 1 year old kid.

mad men
my friend eva and i (shout out to fresh juiced) have discussed mad men a lot. not so much the show but the idea of it. i haven't been able to figure out my problem out until now. i am going to say something a lot of people won't say because they are afraid to appear ignorant or clueless. i think mad men is  boring. there you go. now let me clarify, i like mad men; the writing, acting, costumes, and directing are all amazing.  i watched season 1 on dvd and loved it. i watched season 2 on on demand and loved it. but when season 3 came on, i lost interest. it is not a show i have to watch when it airs. i actually sorta forgot it was back on. i made the decision to wait till season 3 is over then watch it over the span of a few days.

kim kardashian's workout videos
i have been very wary of celebrity workout videos after my drunken purchase of carmen electra's strip aerobics series, which i didn't even break a sweat with. but i was excited to discover exercise on tv on demand. i can get really bored with exercise videos so i went to the dance section. i discovered a lot of hilarious "sexy" videos. apparently carmen electra came out with more boring strip aerobic dvds. and there is another one called flirty girl fitness which i also marked as fail and moved on. then there was kim kardashian. i couldn't find a step to do the step cardio bc it is 2009 not 1987 so i tried her buns one. it was not a mess. it was actually her trainer doing most of the talking and her whining every once and a while but it was a legit mini workout to my surprise. i probs won't buy it though because i don't like to financially support people who are famous for no legitimate reason. (sex tapes don't count)

footballers girlfriends
i'll keep this brief....he hasn't put a ring on it so you better check yourself boo!

update on the inefficient detective

so i told my mom she could read my blog, i have nothing to hide.

she says...."noo i thought she was doing the hooking she was being a hooker for a little extra money....you make me sound dumb."
no mom, you are just a really inefficient detective.

dear "katherine"

dear "Katherine" if that is even your real name,
john and a couple of people were looking for you last nite. unfortunately, for some reason they got my number and "your number" mixed up. i don't know if this was an honest mistake or if you are just triflin  but you have left some people really distressed. you are lucky my phone was lost when this all went down last nite between 11pm-3am or else i would have been upset too. if you are going to give men a fake number then give them the rejection hotline, not mine, you dumb bitch!
that's all
xoxo
bonnquisha

mom the inefficient detective strikes again

the story you are about to read is 100% true. none of it has been fabricated.
the inefficient detective strikes again! 
my mother waited for my dad and my brother to leave before she asked me to go look at her coworkers facebook status. "she has lost her mind...i'm going to have to have a talk with her on monday," she said. i was thinking, oh my gawd, what has she gone and done. before i read the status my mom says, she went and saw a hooker! i'm thinking WTF!? then i read her status, it says:

"first hookah experience...mango."

me: momm, that's a hookah not a hooker!
mom: what's a hookah?
i decide its better to show her a picture of her sisters and cousins at one of our cousins birthday.
mom: i thought that was for opium!
me: it is like flavored tobacco. they have hookah bars, they are perfectly legal.
mom: well i didn't know, it's a good thing i asked you because i was going to have to give her another lecture.
me: and it says mango...what did you think it was a mango flavored prostitute?
mom: i thought she went to that club mangoes and got one. now you are going to tell all your friends how i didn't know what a hookah was.

yup, i couldn't resist!
till next time.

like a one hit wonder....

i am not ashamed to admit i love some reality tv. some not all. there are plenty of shows i can't stand or just refuse to watch on principle, such as jon & kate plus 8. i despise that fat, hair-trasplant, ed hardy wearing jackass and his faux-lesbian, methhead looking girlfriend. BUT apparently we are all wrong and all us haters will see, we are all hellen kellers the gf said in some tweet. (sorry i cant be bothered enough to look up where i heard that or the entire quote) oh i see or wait i don't see? (b/c helen keller was blind yall) whatever. pop off skanks.

now to  reality people i kinda sorta like. let's start with my ultimate fav, the real housewives of atlanta. last night's episode marked the kim & her wig's return to the studio. first of all, why was kim dressed like scarlette ohara...i guess all of her skin tight dolces were at the cleaners? anyways kim the singer gets to the recording studio and says she isn't going to sing because she's scared and had bad experiences. hmmm, i think i know what might help, some singing lessons hun. go to a vocal coach without a camera crew if you really want to be a singer. but then kim says something like, "i just want to have one good song...like those one hit wonders." WHAT!? someone actually aspires to be a one hit wonder? is she really that lazy?! so"i wrote no scrubs" kandi finally convinces her to get in the studio and she sings "don't be tardy for the party" not the song, just that one line. and everyone goes apeshit over it. and when she plays it for everyone in her car after bustin her ass on some stairs, everyone else goes apeshit. i mean it wasn't terrriblee but people do realize she poorly sang one line and kandi and her sound engineer fixed that mess right? no? ok, well shit is gonna go down because kim and her wig is so proud of herself and the song that she is gonna cut nene out.

finally, the biggest loser. i don't have much to say except it makes me cry. when that girl found out she weighed 474lbs my mom and i were crying and i officially scratched my stupid idea to gain 150lbs to get on the show (im unemployed). and then their first weigh in they are like omgah i lost 20lbs in a week. well, you better all you do is work out all day and have a chef make your meals. id be at my goal weight in like a week in a half if i had gillian and bob cussing me the fuck out as i walked on the treadmill at 2 miles per hour. but this got me thinking, maybe i should do a mini biggest loser experiment, as in lets see how much i can lose in a week if i spend half my day working out. who knows how long im going to last, because i wont have anyone yelling at me when i decide to just catch up on the rachel zoe project

multi-racial/ multi-cultural= multi-confused

i think i've started writing this post about a dozen times. it's about my experiences with race and ethnicity. i've been fortunate enough to study and learn about being multi-cultural and/or multi-racial in america. i find comfort in knowing that the population of bi-racial/multi-racial people in america is growing. race and culture can heavily influence people's lives and it definitely influenced mine. i've decided to break this topic up. first, i will write about the why.

the reason i originally started writing this post was because of a form. a couple weeks ago i was trying to help my parents out by filling out some of my little brother's school forms, as much as i possible could. the forms really haven't changed since i was in middle school, health information, emergency contact info, etc. there was however an additional form. it asked two questions: first, whether or not you ( my brother) was of hispanic origin? second, what race are you (check all that apply). most people probably didn't think much of this, but to me, this was a surprise. it was the first time that we were asked both. for the 13 years i spent going to public school, our forms, standardized tests, etc  were always bubbled in, mine was always bubbled in hispanic/latino.  now, they were going beyond that. so i checked the form off: hispanic-yes, race- black & white. my brother was surprised by this, which i fully understand. you see, he never thought of himself as black & white, he has always viewed himself from a cultural aspect, panamanian and greek.

second, i was about to board a megabus to new york ( a topic in itself), i told the man my ticket was for two and that my mother was coming behind me, and i pointed to her ( her bag was heavy as hell). he replied, "oh the black woman?" i looked back and said, "yeah, that's her." it startled me a bit, because like my brother, i don't really look at her as a "black woman". i've always seen her as a latina woman who happens to be dark-skinned. the thing is my mother herself is bi-racial: her mother (my abuela) is five feet tall and "white" she's lighter than i am but not very fair, her father is over six feet tall and very dark. even in panama, my abuela was frowned upon and hit by her brothers for marrying a black man.


the point is, my brother and i are bi-racial. we have a black mother and a white father. however, being hispanic, race has come second to us. after all, it was the only box we had.  my brother and i have faced haters in terms of our race & ethnicity,  but even as a child, i was always a smidgen more aware of it. my brother went to a school filled with diversity. whereas i can count the number of non-white kids i graduated the 6th grade with on both hands.

i think what i'm going to end up doing is breaking this down into posts about whiteness & not being white, but who knows. i don't really have a goal for this other than to just write my thoughts down.

my mother...the international super spy

everyone who knows me has heard me talk about my mom before. we are really close. she is an intelligent, strong, hard-working latina. i'm like the greek version of her, or so they tell me. i have always felt really lucky to have a great mother figure, a mami who balanced work and family, she does charity work, and she's interviewed/worked with: reagan, bush 41, clinton, & W.  i have a mother who has traveled the world and cussed castro the eff out. my mom is awesome.

so, it was overwhelmingly suprising when she told me the ridiculous ass story i am about to lay out. this is the story of how my mother and her friend thought they had outsmarted homeland security and al queda.

my mom drives to work in dc everyday with her 60 year old friend. i'll call her friend K.  over a year ago, they saw this "bizarre" car decal. then slowly over time, they'd see the decal pop up more frequently. they would try to peak at who was driving these cars but couldn't get a good look. mom and K, who read way too many crime/spy/investigating novels, determined that these decals were markers of "one of them"...terrorists. they even told my little brother of this, that there a special sect of al queda was, signaling to each other via car decals with their "conspicuous symbol". i look at this symbol. then i look at my mother. and all i can think is what?!

first, the fact the idea of a terrorist group using a fairly "conspicuous" symbol to signal each other on their cars was ridiculous to me. second, the idea that only my mother and her friend were able to figure this theory out was ridiculous to me. you see, i knew EXACTLY what this symbol was. my mom then goes to tell me how K discovered what the symbol actually was on vacation. my mother seemed disappointed when she told me this part. i don't know if she was slightly embarrassed or sad that she wasn't some amazing detective. she still tries to convince me of her rational and that i will owe her an apology if they ever find out that terrorist organizations had been secretly using this symbol to communicate.

so what exactly is the symbol we were debating....