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....

whats a cliche...a bad thing?

well it's fall, the end of summer shows and summer weather. we move on to fall tv and sweaters and boots and fighting off ragweed and seasonal depression.i was originially going to write about something else but i started watching episode 3 of glee and i couldn't resist.

back in the summer, i watched the premiere of glee and i loved it, couldn't wait for it to come back last week. after the disappointment of entourage and the last few episodes of true blood, i was really rooting for glee to restore my faith in campy television. while, it hasn't completely failed, i can feel it going down the slippery slope of another high school show, despite it's promise not to. they even mentioned their biggest problem themselves....cliches. i know it's a little too soon, but i'm not seeing many layers or much hope for them. all i see are stereotypes i've already seen before, just a conniving cheerleader, flamboyantly gay choir kid, fiesty big black girl, dumb jock, annoying choir girl. oh but that other football player is chasing cougars, original, wait i saw that in american pie. there is the pervy teacher (mean girls), the cunty wife pretending to pregnant(lindsay lohan's tv movie) and just too much unrequited love to handle. and the fact that the actor who plays finn is a mere four years younger then the teacher confirms the biggest cliche of grown ass men playing teenage boys. it feels like the writers are putting all their focus into the musical numbers and Mr. Schuester and leaving everyone else to sorta wallow in high school angst (blah).

variety warned that this would happen. BUT, i am not going to give up hope just yet. who knows, maybe the writers and producers are trying to weed out the bandwagon people, just like professors would try to scare people the first week into dropping out of class. i know that analogy doesn't make much sense for tv since its all about ads and dollars at the end of the day. but i really need to restore my faith in camp.  if not all i will be left with is mad men, something i will write about soon.

now, moving on to america's next top model. this is a show i stopped watching regularly a long time ago. however, my mom loves the show and so i watch it with her, we bond over tyra's ridiculousness. but this petite model cycle is all sorts of wrong. first of all, the majority of these girls are just short knockoffs of other people that have been on top model. second, i know with reality tv they look for crazy but these shorties are boring crazy (except for that girl who was "in love with jesus"). oh bianca is a bitch, oh the redhead is awkward. whatever. finally, tyra has gone off the wall with this "smize" shit or however you try to spell it. it's like when they shrunk the models they increased tyra's ego and absurdity. my only hope is that it will get so bad my mom will stop watching and i wont have to dvr glee anymore.and if both go down the shitter, then...i don't even know.

I LIKE THE LYRICS ABOUT BEING A CHEERLEADER AND SHE'S IN THE BLEACHERS

i'm glad mtv figured out the secret to having an entertaining VMAs...have no security whatsoever. i'm talking to you kanye and lil mama. seriously, wtf was up with those two hoodrats. and i don't even listen to taylor swift.
now, i'm not gonna sit here and write that i will never listen to kanye again or i will go buy some taylor swift records. both of them are receiving an inordinate amount of publicity right now, for better or for worse. the real "losers" in this situation, are everyone else who performed at the vmas or won an award. besides beyonce, i honestly cant remember who won one. and thanks to kanye, beyonce's award for video of the year was overshadowed by his tomfuckery. i never thought he'd be able to do it, but kanye west overshadowed michael fucking jackson. after all the hype and work that went into that tribute, no one is talking about it.

finally....single ladies is NOT one of the best videos ever made. i remember the first time i saw it, i was fucking furious. why? because i took me about 2 seconds to recognize that she was doing moves from this video: 






later my fury calmed down when beyonce said that this was her inspiration. but, putting on a leotard and some heels and inviting your favorite tranny back-up dancers does not make it one of the greatest videos of all time. a great video? yes. but nothing to get your panties bunched up over.

those are my two cents.

ps. russell brand, you are not funny and not responsible for obama being elected. STFD & STFU.

things that make me sad

so, i have decided that i am much to lazy to have a "professional" blog. eff that shit. this weekend i have discovered a few things that make me sad.

1. the fact that the black eyed peas "i've got a feeling" is the number one song in America. i truly feel disappointed in my country and in my family for loving this song and raising the volume when it comes on the air. i've never been so annoyed with a song in my whole life, it literally upsets me want to cry and destroy things.  my mom says "well they are making a lot of money of it." well not me. i will not buy it or any product/service that ever associates with it. the song is darksided.

2. depressing movies that disguise themselves as empowering or uplifting. case in point "the secret lives of bees" the commercial on demand has a kid singing and talking about love and stuff. in reality, it's a depressing film about death, racism, honey and abuse. as my mother cried, she explained to me that this has happened to her before (she bought the movie). like the one time she rented million dollar baby to inspire my little brother before a tournament.

3. people who are still trying to relive high school. i am not one of those people who had a tragic high school experience. i wasn't uber popular and i wasn't a loser either. i was active in different organizations and basically approached high school as my way to get into an ivy league school (great success). when i graduated high school....i fucking graduated from high school. i moved on with my life and kept in touch with my true friends. a lot of my classmates did not really move on, they went to a college with a large group of people from hs, socialized with them, didn't really do much, didn't explore, didn't grow. which is fine i guess. that's their choice. now what really makes me sad is the fact that an individual who spent their entire high school career trying to be popular, is still trying to be popular by hosting a grand mini hs reunion. i want to hug him and say, please, just let it go. i have plans (i think) the night  of this supposed party but i feel sad because this has potential fail written all over it.

tired & uninspired

fall uniform by locitabonita featuring GAP

i sent off my application yesterday. i spent some time on polyvore creating ideal interior designs and trying to recreate my fall uniform. im really tired. that's all.

i see you creepin.....

i finally finished my script! i swear, i've never proofread/revised/edited a piece of work more in my entire life. so of course it's pouring on the day i have to go get things notarized and what not. lame. but, i'm really proud of myself for commiting myself to my work and trying to do the best job i can do. i have a tendency to get really tired of things and turn in half-assed work because im too bored with it to care.

in more important news....

so, browsing my daily reads for the day, i stumbled upon another true blood post, which are beginning to annoy me because they are becoming the new twilight with dilusional fans and all. now, when i usually see a picture post, i read the description, glance at the small photos, and continue on with my life. but this time, was different. "ryan kwanten:harrah's hottie" not because jason is my favorite character but rather a cocktail waitress i once met from harrah's in new jersey. i enlarged the first one to find nothing but well...new jersey cocktail waitresses. then i opened the second. and there she was,

 

image:justjared.com +my fab picnik skills

PILAR- the now infamous, darksided, 28 year old, tranny, escort/"cocktail waitress" from Texas  who crashed our white party this summer aka the duchess of darkness. now some people will say, how can you determine that's her.you can barely see her. but once you have met the duchess of darkness, you will always be able to sense her presence. i just hope she did not spread on her darkness to that sweet confused man. oh btw, team jason ftw!

now that i have shared that with the world, i am going to go take a dayquil and go back to being the now quasi-legit writer that i am

never forget

September 11, 2001.

"i couldn't help but wonder..."

as i was looking at set pictures from the new sex and the city movie, i realized that it's been 10 years since i first saw an episode. and for 10 years i have had intense love/hate feelings for carrie bradshaw.

 

image: justjared.com

when i was younger i idolized sex and the city and carrie. my mom had a whole season  on vhs and i would secretly watch tapes after school, then try and rewind to whatever part the tape was originally so i wouldn't get caught. i had to wait years to see the final tape which still had the plastic wrap on. like every other girl, especially an aspiring journalist (at the time).  she had the apartment, the shoes, the friends, the guys, and the job. she was likeable and therefore i wanted to be just like her. 

by the time i was a slightly more appropriate age to actually watch the show, lets say 16-17,  i started to loathe carrie. i realized her lifestyle was completely unrealistic for someone who had a small column in a small newspaper (this was pre-book deal). it became a downword spiral of disappointment, i realized that a lot of her outfits weren't unique they were ugly, she made bad decisions, and she wasn't that cute. so, i abandonned carrie, just like i would later abandon meredith grey in grey's anatomy.* (note: i still hate meredith grey, that is just love turned into hate)

once i got to college, i loved carrie again. maybe it was because i finally could kinda-sorta relate that i got the full sense of it,  i was able to appreciate her outlandish outfits, her mistakes, and the fact that she isn't the most stunning person. she was slightly more relatable.

to keep it short, when the movie came out, i loved her, hated her, loved her, etc. 

i ultimately decided that i appreciated carrie for who she is, a quirky fictional character that could be an inspiration to some, but not to me. 

but then someone told me,

" we determined you are the carrie"

 what once would have been my dream words, turned out to be more of a unpleasant surprise. i don't want to be carrie. at the end of the day she had a ridiculous and convoluted love life, she read too much into some things and too little in others, and ultimately she was a true masochist.

i realized that they probably didn't discet her like i did. they probably determined i was "the carrie" because i wear my name on my necklace (it's a chonga thing not a carrie thing) and i'm a writer (kinda). but it stuck with me. and then today, i saw the pictures, i started thinking about everything, and i couldn't help but wonder....ohh fuck i am carrie- with the bizarre relationships with men and the tendency toward romantic masochism, but sans the amazing wardrobe, string of boyfriends, and a paying job. i've accepted that my ill feelings about carrie are really my ill feelings towards myself, and that i just have to continue to be my quirky little self and hope that when i find my mr. big that i just marry him and skip the 10+ years of fucked up relationships. oh and that my friends won't let me put a bird in my head (seriously wtf was that)

seeds of love

 

my work space aka the kitchen table

so, i'm not quite sure if it was the allergy meds or the two hours of sleep, but yesterday i was a creative high. i finished a script, started two new stories, read three scripts (vmars, sex & the city, & arrested development), started brainstorming self-portrait and portrait ideas, and did my hair (not really creative but slightly time consuming). i didn't actually accomplish much from my actual to do list, such as make appointments or unpack, but i felt really productive. i didn't even watch tv apart from the flight of the conchords disk 2 which had come in on netflix. i'm sure i will eventually hit a writers block and start to spend my days in bed watching repeats on bravo and wishing someone would give me a job already.  this unemployment thing is so 4 weeks ago.

dear allergies, rag weed, and ineffective night time meds

for those who may be confused

bonquiqui+tanisha+some half white girl=bonnquisha

foreign grandparents

so. my abuelita called to tell us (in Spanish) that my uncle Roy (my aunt's indian husband) surprised her with a trip to Brussels and Paris. but apparently she didn't believe him and just thought he was flying her up to new jersey. my mom and i thought it was silly for her to think he would joke around with something like that. but in all honesty, that'd kinda be funny. like:

oh hai, come up to new brunswick, then we'll take you to europe.

haha just kidding you stay in new jersey.

oh my little immigrant grandmother.

day 2 of being sick in bed

i'm not quite sure what the eff is wrong with me but by dinner time i feel ill.
so im lying in bed with a cup of spearmint tea and writing when i decide to take a break and go on facebook. i discover that my roommate from sophomore year, the one that kicked me out of the bathroom as i was puking my life out so she could shower (around 2-3am) is engaged. unfortunately, i don't know her well enough to tell her that her fiance has a serious case of gay face. bless her heart.

that is all.

ps. i hate capital letters

when i grow up

i want to be this kid.

his name is cruz. apparently he has famous parents. but he's way cooler than them.