Sunday, December 31, 2006
Friday, December 22, 2006
- Swooning over guys with strong arms
- Bringing two kids each into this world to add to the Army we're forming
- L-O-V-I-N-G the movie Chasing Amy
- Holding a place near and dear to our hearts for classic Salsa music
- Loathing people who make IM spelling errors...YOUR is not the same as YOU'RE, dammit!!!
And I really don't have any more apologies left in me, so I felt it was just easier to post something tonight and get it over with.
A couple of weeks ago I read about some kid who got stabbed to death in broad daylight in Union Square while people where there in full swing doing some holiday shopping in the open market. Just this big-ass'd brawl of HS kids trying to kill each other. Sad but true. I've since found out that it might be gang related. One of the gangs involved? DDP, or as they are really called, but I'm embarrassed to admit, Dominicans Don't Play. I mean is that just the stupidest name on gods green earth that a gang could possibly have? This city if full of Decepticons, Bloods, Crypts, Latin Kings...and Dominicans who don't play...
And what, pray tell, do they not play? Jump rope? Backgammon? Red Light, Green Light? I mean, I'm not doubting that they are as ruthless and bad ass as any other knife/gun wielding gang in this city. But that name...it's really just poor marketing. They need a PR rep really bad! I'm just a tad embarrassed because, well, they're Dominican. And I for one do not see what's so bad about playing. I mean, do you feel me?
If It Wasn't for Step 3...
I've really been toying with the idea of sitting in on a couple of the Sexaholics Anonymous meetings to see if it's the missing "piece" in my quest for "peace" but dammit if they didn't throw that god clause in there. Can't I fix this without bringing anymore Judeo-Christian oppressiveness into my life? That's the main cause behind all this in the first place, all that repression I was taught in the church; the shame that it preaches and embeds in your mind- that shit really fucks with a kid's head...no pun intended. Can't I just go to a meeting and accept responsibility for my actions without putting it in some supposed celestial being's hands? That's such a passive way to go through life: it's in god's hands. No it's not- it's in my hands. I can do this; I have to do this; it's my responsibility to bring about change in my life.
Hmmm...maybe I don't need those meetings after all...
MEMO TO SELF: Rent The Brown Bunny RIGHT THIS MINUTE!!
So, um, Vincent Gallo, wannabe musician, D-list indie actor and all around weirdo, who amused me in Palookaville and wowed me in Buffalo '66 and In The House of the Spirits, is upset with PayPal.com because they refuse to do business with him anymore for his website, http://www.vincentgallo.com/. Vincent, sweetie, I'm mad at you for selling a night of sex with you as well as YOUR SPERM on your website. And I'm mad that VG can sell his body online no problem, but if I do it it's prostitution. Is it because he's a man or an actor? To me, soliciting is soliciting. Why isn't LAPD doing their job? Get this nutcase off the streets before he (re)produces again!
No, It's Not Okay to Talk About This with Me
It's bad enough that I've allowed myself to embark on this faux-friendship, in which I pretend that this torch I carry for you is just the latest fashion accessory, and you pretend that the reasons you gave for our demise weren't ambiguous at best, but do I really have to sit on the other end of the phone at two in the morning while you seek my advice on your girl troubles? I still haven't seen a doctor about this knife in my heart, so let's lay off the dating details until my wound heals, k? Say it with me, now: T...M...I...
Some Stereotypes are Just True
Did you know, that in the Christian Bible, the inhabitants of Sodom and Gomorrah were considered sinners by god because of their perverse sexual acts (fellatio, anal sex, man on man action), but in the Jewish accounts of this biblical event, Sodomites were guilty of economic crimes and monetary greediness. People, I cannot make this stuff up. Draw your own conclusions...
*smooches...with new-found respect for racist jokes*
We fall down
But we get up...
For a saint is just
a sinner who fell down...
and got up
Saturday, December 16, 2006
I really hope there aren't any surveillance cameras in my office because they totally have me on tape rolling my eyes at the computer and laughing out loud at the ridiculousness that the NY papers deem "fit to print."
In Other News, Bush and Osama Say to the World: Smile! You're on Candid Camera!!
Why would anyone be so crazy as to believe that any real strife would befall Belgium? Besides of course their stash of waffles and chocolate falling low. Now there's your story!
But I hear he used his legs to shove Timmy down a well...
Hey, you, tall Doofus, come over hear and yank some plastic shit out of these here dolphins we're holding in some tanks against their will. And while you're at it reach up, grab the sun and tilt it about 2 degrees for me, will ya? I mean geez- it's bad enough he's a doofus, you gotta exploit him, too?
Oh my god...I'm go-go, too!
Dude, you shake your ass so other dudes can jack off to it. I hate to be the bearer of bad news...but that IS porno! Let's call a spade a spade, okay?
Has anybody questioned Elmer Fudd?
That damned rabbit must be putting up "duck Season" signs again...when will those two just call a truce?
Because worrying about his health would probably not be politically correct...
Another reason why I try to stay as uninvolved in politics as possible: I don't want any slime to get on on my leather jacket...
And this is why I got rid of my machete.
I mean really, if you're going to treat your kids like shit, don't make it easy for them to kill you. It's covered in chapter 2 in the new millenium parenting guide...didn't he get the 2006 edition?
He's probably at Osama's house.
Don't even waste my tax dollars looking for this fool. I don't want to hear another word about it.
Sometimes you just need to beat the hell out of a kid...
Oh. Did I just say that out loud? I certainly do not condone child abuse, nor do I promote threatening to put your 6-year-old in the oven and serving her for dinner with a spicy mango chutney...
That's all I got. If I read anymore news the weight of the world will crush my spine.
*smooches...with a side of spicy mango chutney*
Well, if you told me you were drowning
I would not lend a hand
I've seen your face before my friend
But I don't know if you know who I am
Well, I was there and I saw what you did
I saw it with my own two eyes
So you can wipe off the grin, I know where you've been
Its all been a pack of lies
Friday, December 15, 2006
Now this is where I usually insert something callous and witty like: “get over it” or “hmmm…where’s my violin?” and that will usually incite rumbling laughter from you, my loyal readers. But apparently that is just the type of “wit” that has brought me to this post.
Yes, I, Raquel, she of the scathing tongue, want to apologize to all injured parties of previous posts that at the time seemed really funny but was actually really hurtful. And I’m not using my sarcastic voice either. I’m actually taking off my armor, putting down my shield and admitting that I use this mean-spirited humor in a desperate attempt to protect myself from myself, the typical bully mentality. It’s the one thing I remembered from Psych 101…you know, from the one day I actually attended class?
I want to reiterate to that injured party that what I wrote was just words on a screen. That despite what those words connotated and despite how they were interpreted, my feelings for this injured party remain as they always were. And if said party is not sure of those feelings because my armor and shield have gotten in the way, let me tell them here: there is not a day that goes by that I don’t miss you deeply and wholeheartedly. And not a moment passes without a memory of our time together popping in my head and making me smile. Please know this to be the truth.
And while I’m at it, let me address other wrongs. Might as well get it all out before I suit up again.
JS: I don’t know why I never called you back. We had an awesome time that night and I thought you were a cool person. Sometimes when the weekend approaches I contemplate calling you but figure you have already written me off as a flake and deleted my number from your phone. I’m really not this dismissive of people, really. I got caught up in my own stuff and I apologize. It’d be nice to hang out again if you still want to.
Jack: I’m really happy you’ve found something to be happy about. I really am. Please don’t think that my self-imposed seclusion has anything to do with you. It has everything to do with me. But you have an IQ of 144, right, so I suppose you already knew that.
C, Hoover and Toothless: If you ever come across this blog, I want to say that what I wrote I meant, but I didn’t have to put it out there for the whole world (actually only 17 people) to laugh at. I’m sorry.
L: If you ever come across this blog and come to find that there are things I kept from you, I’m sorry, too. Just know that were are really good friends, and if I didn’t divulge something it was only because I was ashamed to admit it to you, because I really admire you and your morals and your friendship, and I wanted to keep your image of me pristine.
And finally, in a last-ditch attempt to keep bad Karma from re-visiting me, I want to apologize to Mrs. McDonald and her baby. I knew it was wrong when I did it the first time. And I knew it was wrong the second time, too. I promise you- there won’t be a third.
*smooches…with so much love for you all that my cup runneth over…*
Siempre me quedara
la voz suave del mar,
volver a respirar la lluvia que caera
sobre este cuerpo y mojara
la flor que crece en mi,
y volver a reir
y cada dia un instante volver a pensar en ti.
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
I have not been able to write in weeks. None of my stories for my thesis have an ending and it's just not coming to me. The 25-pg "craft" paper is holding steady at 12-pgs with not a single, new original thought popping into my head. That damn blinking cursor on my computer screen is mocking the hell out of me, and I swear, yesterday it said, "You're a fraud. You're not a writer. All of your stories are the same. All you've done is changed the protagonist's name."
Fucking, stupid, bitch-ass voices!
It's made me a bit self-destructive and careless and I really thought I'd left all that behavior behind, but no, it's been there the whole time just waiting to be reactivated. My insomnia is getting worse. I'm getting sloppy at work. I've gained five pounds. I'm so mentally exhausted that it's causing a disconnect inside of me. I just need to shut down and re-boot, so to speak.
So that's what I'm going to do.
This is driving me nuts because I've never really had writer's block before and I'm scared that I won't get my flow back. I feel like a singer who has lost her voice and I'm freaking out. Is there some sort of lemon tea thing I can take to revitalize me?
And I swear to god if someone says "therapist" or any variation thereof I will snap you in two! Literally. There will be two bloody pieces of you lying about. Don't test me.
Now some of you will think this is a cry for help, but the rest of ya'll know me better than that. I say what I mean, and I mean what I say. I'm not looking for sympathy or an outpouring of love. I really truely just need a couple of days to regroup and get back on track. I just didn't want anyone to think I was ignoring them.
But I'll give you this, a present, a relic from my childhood that sort of calms my soul. Hushes the voices, if you will. No matter how low or crappy. This is my self-esteem secret weapon. You should feel honored to know it:
*smooches...from me for me for once*
I've took it farther on the outside
I've took it nearly to the brink
And if you've seen me on the outside
You would have barely seen me breathe
Saturday, December 09, 2006
MY DIVORCE IS FINAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I'm officially legally unbound to that man! It took exactly one year, one month and 28 days from the moment his sorry ass left my momma's house to this moment, and I have to say I'm a little overwhelmed.
First I'd like to thank L in Cali for all of her support, perspective, advice and comic relief throughout this whole ordeal, even though she doesn't read this blog (I'll be thanking her in person later on this month!).
I'd also like to thank my family who didn't choose sides or say, "I told you so," but instead were there as a constant source of support.
And to C's and my mutual friends (is that gramatically correct?) and fellow AU alumni who may have been a little thrown by the split- you guys are amazing and I ♥ U!
Finally, I'd like to thank the Academy...you like me, you really, really like me...no seriously, though I want to thank the Queens County court system, Michael Ciarlo and Kenny the Paralegal at Nadel & Associates who really helped me out a lot with all the gory details of this divorce. You guys ROCK!
Now that it's over, I suppose I can reflect on the 13 years he and I spent together- both the good and the bad and the ultra- mega- funky- awfulness that brought us here. I've made our time together seem like a ride through hell on an oil soaked rickshaw, but of course there are two sides to every story.
I'm sure he would say I was difficult, bratty, moody and unpredictable, and that I had this standard of perfection that no one on earth could possibly live up to...but you all knew that about me already. And I'm sure you're all tired of hearing me say how boring, financially irresponsible, and unhealthy he was, and how irritating he became in those last few months. There were other, more serious underlying problems, too, that I won't go into out of respect for his privacy (look at me, all grow'd up!), but if you ask me I'll tell you one on one.
There were many times I tried to leave, he tried to leave, I tried to kill him (lucky for him he had really good reflexes and caught my wrist in time or that knife would have seriously still be stuck in his throat!)...the usual ups and downs, but it was magnified by the 10th power in my mind and I've known for a while that it had to end.
So here's to love, marriage, babies and divorce- not necessarily in that order. And here's to my new life: May the road rise up to meet me...May the wind always be at my back...May the sun shine warm upon my face, and rains fall soft upon my fields...
*smooches...on my way to pawn my wedding ring*
i thought we'd be simple together
i thought we'd be happy together
thought we'd be limitless together
i thought we'd be precious together
but i was sadly mistaken
Thursday, December 07, 2006
Yeah, that's what I said, too.
There is so much information crammed into my poor, beer-soaked brain right now that I think it might implode. Some dude gets shot outside a strip joint by the cops; a boy gets jumped in Union Square; Lindsay Lohan sends some crazy email to her lawyer that is leaked to Page Six...I just can't keep up! The only way to get these stories out of my head is to do the same thing I do when a song just won't leave me alone: write it down.
Here's the recent news, according to me, the Jaded NYer...
1. 50 Bullets
I agree that was excessive, but here's my problem with this story: a) why were they taking the stripper home? b) why did Bell ram his car into the cops? c) why do cops carry around THAT MUCH ammo d) why do black people keep inviting Al Sharpton into their lives? I can't STAND him!
Listen, plain and simple, if dude hadn't been so preoccupied with getting some skanky stripper ass the night before his wedding to his baby momma, his ass would still be alive today.
2. Pelosi and Murtha
I don't usually follow politics, but a couple of weeks ago the NY Times had this cover story on Nancy Pelosi endorsing John P. Murtha as the next House majority leader, and how no one else backed it and they chose some other dude instead. With the article was this pic:
That's Murtha, in the back, to the right, with the STANKEST look on his face, while Pelosi and the REAL House majority leader ham it up for the press. That made me laugh so hard I almost peed my pants!
3. You Mean I Gotta Be Sober on My Commute?
Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha!!!
Commuters on the LIRR are complaining because the bar-car may be abolished. Listen you alcoholics, stop being whiny-assed babies and just have a beer at Charlie O's at Penn Station before you get on the train instead, okay? Geez- it's not the end of the freakin' world. Give your liver a BREAK!
4. News from the Dominican Republic:
A) No More Haitians?
Foreign Relations Minister Carlos Morales Troncoso, a former sugar cane industry executive, highlighted the fact that the trend is for increased investments in farming mechanization that will eliminate the need for Haitian labor in sugar cane fields. Dominicans reject the hard work of sugar cane cutting, which has led to thousands of Haitians being allowed to migrate to the country to take their place. These Haitians live in settlements called bateyes, many languishing today as the number of jobs declines because farms are being mechanized.
But, who will be our scapegoats if the Haitians stop crossing the border to do the work uppidy Dominicans don't want to do? Who?? WHO???
In a press release, the Cerveceria Nacional Dominicana (that produces Presidente beer) says that beer drinkers will be most affected by the fiscal reform, estimating that they will pay more than 36% of RD$ 17.5 billion the government is trying to collect. Currently there is a tax on beer depending on the percentage of alcohol, but the fiscal reform looks to impose a selective tax on beer. Teodoro Hidalgo, Director of Corporate Affairs for Grupo Leon Jimenes, says that this tax increase means that beer in the DR will become one of the most expensive in the hemisphere.
First they take our Haitians, now they want to make it harder to buy beer...why even bother living?
5. Hey, This OrthoTriCyclen Tastes Like Hubba Bubba...
Are they kidding me with this one? Chewable Contraceptive? I can see it now: "Jenny can you please spit out your gum? You know it's not allowed in class" "But Mrs. Funkenmeyer, it's my birth control gum!" Now I guess you can be a whore and chew gum like one, too! Whatever happened to the Rhythm Method, huh? Actually, maybe you shouldn't take birth control advice from me...
Okay, that's enough with the news. My head hurts and I need a shower to take the stench of society off of me.
*smooches...with icky newspaper ink all over the place...*
No creo en Venus ni Marte
No creo en Carlos Marx
No creo en Jean Paul Sartre
No creo en Brian Weiss
Solo creo en tu sonrisa azul
En tu mirada de cristal
En los besos que me das
Monday, December 04, 2006
Saturday, December 02, 2006
These are the days that I've been missing