The Albino Bean does San Francisco.
Where to start... How about at the beginning... después de mil llamadas e emails, el viaje ya estaba listo, Miss Aislinn would leave for San Francisco on friday the 26th at 8.45 pm from San Diego. Or so she thought. Verán, no viajaba sola. El Sr. Robi también iría... el propósito? El cumpleaños de nuestra querida amiga Oliva.
Robi dijo que pasaría por mi a las 6.30, que asumiendo que no habría fila para cruzar, nos daría el tiempo suficiente para llegar y hacer el check in, y pasar por seguridad... eso es si cierta persona hubiera pasado por mi a tiempo y no 40 minutos después. En fin, salimos tarde y para acabarla de chingar había 180 carros para cruzar. Ni modo. Ni para que enojarse la neta. Obviamente, perdimos el vuelo, pero había uno más tarde, aun así, apenas llegamos. El muchacho que nos atendió, nos expresó con toda la hueva del mundo, mientras se tardaba horas para sacar los pases de abordaje, que en efecto, teníamos solo 5 minutos para llegar y aun no pasábamos por seguridad. Ni nos revisaron, las doñas estaban muy ocupadas platicando como para darse cuenta de que se me había olvidado sacar mi navaja suiza. Oh well. Beaners 1- Homeland Security 0.
We barely make it in time to board the plane. Once we had our seats and I has a beer in one hand and a good book in the other, I was fine.
Llegamos a San Jose y Oliva ya estaba esperando, un poco preocupada porque no habíamos llegado en nuestro vuelo original.
For once, I was happy to be going to bed early on a friday night, after all that commotion I was a little tired. Llegamos a casa de Oliva, y yo caí rendida.
Next day we were up early, picked up Dave, a friend of Oliva’s, got some coffee and we were on our way to The City (that’s what the locals call it).
When we got there Oliva gave us a little driving mini tour of downtown. The first spot we actually hit after we parked was the Museum of Modern Art. And I thought *Oh great* (picture me rolling my eyes), but it was fucking fantastic. I’m so glad we went there. I fell in love with a painting by Kees van Dongen, called La Chemise Noire... la googlie, pero no salió nada.
After the museum we were hungry, so we stopped at a local tapas bar/brewery. Me tomé una cerveza de vainilla muy buena. Tenía un saborcito como a madera dulce. Los demás pidieron una jarra de sangría. Let the drinking commence!
Llegamos al hotel a registrarnos. There was free wine in the Lobby. More Drinking.
Mientras nos arreglábamos para salir, misteriosamente aparecieron unas botellas de tinto en el cuarto. More drinking.
Cuando ya estábamos lo suficientemente Ghetto Fabulous, tomamos un taxi y fuimos a Foreign Cinema. This is a very rad restaurant. Es un tipo patiecito, con una pared blanca muy grande en donde proyectan películas viejas mientras comes. Unfortunately, there was no food involved, only more drinking.
De allí caminamos (como pudimos) al restaurante donde cenamos: Little Baobab. Como se pronuncia? Who the hell knows.
Teníamos reservaciones, pero aun así había un espera como de 20 minutos... what to do? I know!... more drinking!
The food is a mixture of French Creole, African, Asian and Carribean cooking. Las bebidas igual. Margaritas de tamarindo, jamaica y jengibre, aunque yo tome algo llamado Flamboyant, que era jamaica con vodka y no se que más.
No puedo ni intentar describir lo buena que estaba la comida... una combinación de sabores y texturas que no pensarías que combinarían, pero extrañamente parecen existir el uno para el otro.
Después de la cena caminamos al Beauty Bar, for yes! You guessed it! More drinking...
Este lugar, es un salón de belleza convertido en bar, so obviously the Albino Bean was in heaven, which is more than I can say for my dear friend Oliva, who was looking very green. We decided to call it a night, so we could get an early start the next day.... and we did, if by early start you mean mimosas and omelets in Sausalito. This time the drinking started at about 9 or 10 am.
El domingo lo dedicamos a hacer *all the touristy things*... Golden Gate, China Town, Little Italy, Haight-Ashbury, Union Sqaure, Pier 39, Cable Car rides, etc.
Dinner was at The Steps of Rome, where Oliva got to lick tiramissu of some Italian guy’s abs, as part of her birthday celebration. Talk about foreign hospitality.
Sunday was such a frikin’ great day, but by 11 pm I was beat. De regreso a casa de Oliva, me la pase cabeceando. Tengo vagos recuerdos de que veníamos escuchando Sir Mixalot, Run DMC, 2Live Crew, etc.
En cuanto llegamos a casa de Oliva puse cabecita en almohada porque el vuelo salía muy temprano. Había que levantarse a las 4 am para llegar a tiempo.
Ni llegar temprano nos salvo porque habían sobrevendido el vuelo. Solo había un lugar, y se lo cedí a Robi. Nimodo. Esperé un rato, me dieron mi voucher de compensación y salí en el siguiente vuelo.
Ahora el pedo era que no tenía aventon al Jale y ya venía con 2 horas de retraso... what’s a girl to do? Pues subirse al trolley, no hay de otra.
Llegue a Beanertown como a eso de las 11 am, busque un taxi libre (thank Jebus for Taxis Libres) y le dije “al *crapy maquila donde jalo* and make it snappy”.

She's baaaaack!
Ya ando por aca de nuevo, y hay mucho que decir... but, I'm too tired.... must..... sleep.

Me dijeron que me portara bien
Me voy a San Francisco a repartir nalgadas por alla; pero no me extrañen mucho, que regreso el lunes tempranito.

Mellow Man Ace... more profound than we thought.
Está pagina en blanco me acecha desde hace tres días. Post something! Anything! I haven’t even felt like flexing my pocha muscles that much either. Well, not till now that is.
I’ve been listening to 98.9 fm since they changed the format. It’s hip hop now, as opposed to the *rock en español* (read: crap) they played before; but the DJ’s speak in spanglish, and funny enough I found my self cringing at the sound of this. But rather than dismiss it completely, he decidido que el spanglish, no es para todos. Some people can pull it off, others can’t, and it also has to do with the person that you are convesating with.
When I speak with my mother, we flip back and forth between spanish and english, like it’s no big deal. My father has the same linguistic capabilities, but hates the mixing of both languages. It’s one or the other with him. Black and white, no gray areas. But he makes an exception for me, because I think he is too lazy to completely reprogram my speaking skills.
A la Run DMC... It’s like that, and that’s the way it is. So he’s basically learned to look past the spanglish and listen to what I have to say; and occasionally rolls his eyes when I say something like * hey pinchi gordo, pásame the tea pot no?*
What I’m getting at, es que al principio me molestaba escuchar el spanglish en el radio. Se me hacía extraño; pero entre más escucho, más lo absorbo sin pensar. I don’t really dissect the two different languages in my head when I receive the message. This is because I think in spanglish (like you hadn’t noticed). It's just part of the blessing/curse of being bilingual.
Now I don’t cringe when I hear the DJ say “...and that was The Digital Undergrown, con su Humpty Dance... yo! esa canción rifa... old school in the house”
Well.... maybe I cringe a little.

Roxy, the Pug from Outer Space.
La señorita Roxy está en casa de nuevo, con su cola pelona como baboon y su cono alrededor del cuello para que no se rasque. Se ve muy cómica.
Al principio entristeció porque no podía hacer sus usuales travesuras, ya que el cono la hacia chocar con todo y atorarse en lugares pequeños.
Trae el cono puesto desde el viernes, y ahora ya está aprendiendo a hacer de las suyas con todo y cono. Anoche que estaba en la cocina, me robo un trapo, corrí inmediatamente para quitárselo... pues la muy cabrona empezó a correr como loca, pegándose con todas las paredes en el proceso. Cuando la alcance, me echo una miradita de *come and get me bitch*.
Me acerque y la muy jija de su madre, bajo la cabeza de tal manera que las orillas del cono tocaran el piso, atrapando el trapo dentro. Me hice para atrás y levanto la cabeza con el trapo en el hocico y echo a correr de nuevo.
Está loquita igual que su madre.

If you see me coming, get out of the way
El vienes le pegue a un bote de basura con el espejo de lado del pasajero y ahora solo cuelga, inservible; pero me gusta como se ve, tal vez no lo arregle. Soy medio cafre, so I don’t even use it, prefiero voltear.
He descuidado mucho el zapatito lately. No lo he lavado. Por dentro esta sucio, cd’s por todos lados, ropa, maquillaje. En el asiento trasero hay tierra de unas plantas que compre. El olor del interior ni lo puedo empezar a describir... Ahora lo llevaré con el cholo de a la vuelta que lava mi auto de vez en cuando y me dice *gracias, holmes* cuando le pago.

Damn you James Cameron!
Tengo el humor gris.
Roxy está con la veterinaria. Nada serio, pero tuvo que dormir en el consultorio. Lloró un buen cuando la deje.
Debería estar feliz porque es viernes and I have some things to look forward to this weekend; but I’m just down. I miss Roxy.
Estaba sola en la casa anoche, porque mi roomie salió y me acosté con una ansiedad horrible.
Soñé que mientras caminaba, la tierra debajo de mis pies se abría, y que en realidad caminaba sobre hielo y no tierra; pero el hielo estaba sucio... de pronto el hielo se hizo suave como la nieve y me sumergí en agua heladísima... ya debajo del agua, todo era limpio y azul , y yo sonriendo...
Se que esté Brain Fart puede tener muchos significados, y que Martha de seguro me aportará algo... aquí lo chistoso es que siempre que empiezo a tener problemas, mis sueños involucran agua. Ya sean marejadas, pozos, tormentas, charcos, etc. El agua siempre está presente en mi subconsciente.
*I have problems*... but then again, it’s nothing a good talk with la Wera, or Martha or someone, over some beers natch, won’t fix.

Pionta Guinness, le do thoil.

Belfast, circa 1970
That's our cousin Michael (third from the left) displaying his lovely dancing skills.

Well children, it's St. Patrick's Day... St. Patrick, the patron saint of Ireland... he is said to have come to Ireland to convert the pagans to Christianity, but then again, it's also said that he drove all the snakes out of the Emerald Isle (maybe that's a metaphor, hmmmm...) but to you and me, it's just another excuse to be *three sheets to the wind* in the middle of the week, without having to explain yer'self.

I will share this little Irish toast with you, as I will later share it with friends and family...

Here's health and prosperity,
to you and all your posterity,
and them that doesn't drink with sincerity,
that they may be damned for all eternity!

Cheers... Sláinte.... Salud

Once again, free promotion for la Wera

The Albino Bean will be there... will you?

A face only a mother could love...

Ms. Roxy, as photographed by Mr. Ron Glaubitz.

Pick your Poison
El viernes me quede en mi casa. Salí muy cansada del trabajo. A parte quería practicar mi deporte favorito: beer watching.
What is beer watching you might ask? Well, it’s a team sport, but this friday I was flying solo, porque mis “amigos” me dejaron plantada. It consists of drinking beer, while watching TV... Not to toot my own horn or anything, but I’m one of the state’s top contenders.
My equipment of choice:

-A six pack of Pacifico’s.
-An ice-cold mug.
-Some chips
-Pajamas
-A copy of “Bend It Like Beckham”.

The evening started with Jeopardy!... I like to yell the answers at the TV. Mi hermano Yoyo, dice que esos programas apestan... they are made so the masses can feel smart, even though they watch TV... he’s just jealous because he can never remember to phrase the answer in the form of a question. After that it was “Roy Orbison & Friends -- A Black and White Night”. The first song was “Only the Lonely”... how appropriate, being that I was all by my lonesome this night.
After that I mastered the art of jumping from one show to another, without really watching any of them... I saw some chick try to distinguish who was gay, out of a group of very feminine looking men. Very sad. I saw a show about a girl that was told what to do by inanimate objects... also, some silly sitcom.
I though that was enough of a warm-up so I put the movie on. Ya me estaba acabando la tercera chelita para estas horas. The movie was fun, nothing spectacular though. I love the way English people talk... that just means that I can watch any old crap English movie, and still love it, because of the accent. I know... but I can’t help it if I’m easily amused........ ooooh! something shiny and sparkly... hold on.
*
*
*
*
Ok I’m back. Got a little distracted there.... bueno, ya sin cerveza en mi vaso y con la película a su fin, me fui a dormir.
Sábado... me levante temprano, a esperar al herrero que jamás llego. Hice chores around the house and what not. Luego a Rosaro.
Sake and beer on a saturday afternoon con mi apa; que ya me informó que si se muere, me puedo quedar con la cámara digital... so hands off Booger!
Ah que el gordito... se le nota que me extraña, pero namás me da un golpecito en la espalda y me dice “pinchi güera”.
Rosarito estaba lleno de pochos este weekend... and not pochos like *yours truly*. I’m talking about the shaven head, east L.A. mofos that show up every spring break to sleep in their car, and pee in the street. Fortunately, I hung out with Lore... so no pochos in sight. Same old, same old... cervezas y buena plática....neta que siento que cada lunes posteo lo mismo... but I always have a good time so if it ain’t broke, then don’t fix it.
Después del último vaso de cerveza, muy alcoholizada, camine entre homies y hoochies al bar donde trabaja el Sr. Pelos...

Espérame, que voy a salir temprano

Esperé un poco y se me empezó a bajar la peda. Couldn’t let that happen now could we?
Me tome una rica Pacífico (seems to be my venom of choice lately) y espere muy quietecita sentada en la barra, tal como me lo pidió. Solo platique con un negrito que me dijo:

Negrito: Aw no baby! You here alone?... ain’t that a shame
Ash: No, I’m waiting for someone.
Negrito: Well he better hurry up; I wouldn’t leave a sweet thang like you waitin’ for too long.

Me cerro el ojo y se fue. Después de lo que me pareció una eternidad salió el Pelos de quien sabe donde, and he said the magic word: Vamonos.

Pase el resto de la noche con el, hasta que vimos salir el sol.

Watching the sun come up is a beautiful thing, I wish I could share it with all of you.

Wow, that was touchy feely moment huh?
Moving on... sunday, and I was surprisingly *not* hung over. Pase todo el día con mi familia y con la Roxy, who was being uncommonly docile, muy raro en ella. Así que me la pase diciendole cositas como:

-who’s a good doggy?
-Roxy’s a good girl
-quien es mi gordita?

And yes, I did it in that annoying voice that people use when they talk to their pets... so?
After about 15 minutes of this torture... my mom, who was reading the paper, got up and said:

-Do you have to inflate that dog’s ego so much, you silly girl?

She stormed off, into the kitchen, rolling her eyes...
I love annoying my mom.

Cafiaspirinas y coca cola.
Estoy un poco nerviosa... problemitas leves en el trabajo. Nada que no se pueda resolver; pero si me hizo sudar un poco. Lo peor, es que no tenía necesariamente que ser mi problema; pero como estamos aquí todos uno encima del otro... parece haber una política de *share and share alike* cuando algo se atora... but *alone in the limelight* cuando algo sale bien, natch. Office politics... don’t ya love em’?
Claro, si nunca has trabajado en un ambiente de oficina no tienes ni *p* idea de lo que estoy diciendo... under my specific recommendation, go out and rent Office Space.
You can thank me later.

Approach with caution...
Me duele la cabeza. No sé si es por falta de cafeína, o si es porque la secretaria y la de recursos humanos ya me tienen hasta la madre. Tienen toda la mañana hablando de las lindas cosas que hacen sus hijos... cuando trato de participar comentando sobre Roxy, me miran como si estuviera mal de la cabeza. Crazy bitches!... like my dog isn’t just as cute as their damn kids... whatever.
Anyways... estoy planeando otra cenita como la de aquella vez, but I have no idea what to cook; I mean my cooking knowledge is very limited, but I’m not afraid to try new things... I will approach any recipe with the same blinding ignorance that I approach everything else.
Eso de andar haciendo cenitas para muchachitos peludos como que no es mi fuerte, pero en fin... eso pidió el nene, así que eso le daré... nunca me hubiera imaginado que estaría yo, con mandilito bien puesto *cooking for my man*, or any other man, for that matter... what the hell is happening to me?
I have become so damn domestic... next thing you know I’ll greet him at the door with a martini in one hand and his slippers in the other.... (Insert silent scream here).
Estoy exagerando un poco, pero me sorprende el comportamiento que he exhibido... could it be that The Albino Bean can experience actual *feelings*? I shudder at the thought, but it seems to be so; but I only think about saying anything to him and I revert back to my old insensitive and sarcastic self... what to do?
I hate this type of situation... digo, te la pasas bien, hay buena química... nada más no hables de lo que sientes porque ya lo hechas a perder.... If you are a chick, it’s almost impossible to have this type of relationship. Sooner or later you always start having feelings for the guy.
I’m confused. All I know, is that when I leave... I’m not going to be one of those chicks that’s miles away from home in a beautiful tropical place... pining over some jackass that’s back home. Nothing short of a marriage proposal by Johnny Depp is going to keep me here... and that ain’t happening anytime soon.
So I ask myself... why even bother with this guy, if that is the case... I’ll tell you why... because I’m crazy.
Always have been, and always will be; but I prefer the term *delightfully eccentric*...

Señor... señor!!! Le muevo el tag-board por 1 dollar!!!

"Aislinn, Aislinn!!! como pones fotos?"
"Como pones el mentado tracker?"

Así es... I know the answer to these and other questions, and for a nominal fee, I will share this knowledge with you...aunque también se aceptan Miller High Life's and little trinkets from my favourite store.
He ayudado a más de un amigo, con mi limitado conocimiento, a *acomodar* su blog y a ponerle pendejatidas... such as a tag-board, bloglinker y demás.
And today... I have helped... nay... guided another lost soul through the complicated yet subtle joy that is blogging... el Booger.
Yes, yes... now, even my little brother blogs... what is the world coming too?

Old people rock!
Estoy escuchando Rappers Delight... la Oldschoolera returns. Ya les advertí en la oficina, que si de por si soy grumpy, ahora que ya no tomo café, seré aun más grumpy y que si me quieren mantener contenta, me tienen que dejar escuchar Old School hits of the 70’s and 80’s todo el santo día. Nadie protestó... por lo que los quiero más que ayer y todo es felicidad.... you see, it takes very little to please the Albino Bean... and yes, the Albino Bean loves to talk about herself in the third person *a la Disco Stu*. So there!
Ok, on to the weekend recap...
Viernes al cumple del Rosadito, Nice times and good beer. Very good beer, actually; and lots of it too. Ms. Aislinn was a little tipsy on friday night. I mean... why mess with tradition?
Allí mismo, en el cumple del Rosadito me encontré a unos amigos de mi hermano más grande, el Yoyo, que no había visto en mucho tiempo. Me la pase a toda madre con estos morros. It’s interesting sometimes, to change the scenery around you, so to speak... anyways, de allí a otro cumple, ahora del Foglio. Nunca había puesto pie adentro del Blanco y Negro. Después de felicitar a Omar, tomamos una mesa junto a la pista de baile. No se como explicar lo experimente... Vi un hombre, que, si lo hubiera visto en la calle no se me hubiera hecho gran cosa; pero esa noche, en el Blanco y Negro, el hombre era un dios sobre la pista. Poco le faltaba para derrochar diamantina de las axilas en vez de sudor. Y yo? Pues con la bocota abierta viendo como traía a su pareja hipnotizada. Le dirigía los pasos con la mirada. Y si, se me cayeron los chones.
Es increíble como un poco de talento, de cualquier aspecto, en este caso, el baile, puede inspirar tantos sentimientos y arrancar tantos suspiros.
Llegue a mi casita, quien sabe a que horas, con más alcohol que sangre en las venas; pero el corazón muy alegre.
Como de costumbre, tenía mil cosas planeadas para el sábado en la mañana... que bañar a la Roxy, que ir al gimnasio con el entrenador, que tal vez pintarme el pelo... pero que hice? Nada... estaba crudísima. Sudando alcohol. Toda greñuda. Me veía realmente guapa y apetecible...
Me fui a desayunar a la 1 de la tarde con el Robi. Happiness is chilaquiles at Lupita’s, without having to worry if it’s still breakfast time. Más felicidad aun, cuando pude poner *Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough* en la rockola. Después de eso, al cine.
El Robi es una de esas pocas personas con las que me siento en total confianza, así que me desparrame a gusto en la butaca.
Más tardecito despedí al Robi y me puse a limpiar mi casita pa’ que no me regañara mi roomie... jeje, a parte ya me tocaba a mí, porque he estado de huevona; ni siquiera he cocinado. Cuando la sala dejó de oler a Roxy, decidí que ya era suficiente.
Al poco rato llego Edith y se puso a hacer milanesas, y yo hice la pasta acompañante, and a nice salad as well. Nos sentamos a comer como la gente decente y platicar de nuestros trabajos... I know... sucks huh?, pero no... disfruto el escuchar a mi roomie hablar de su trabajo; creo que es porque me gustaría tenerle tanto cariño a mi oficio, como ella.... wishful thinking.
Puse poquito Al Green, para darme ánimos de salir. And it worked too... los planes originales eran de ir a Ensenada, but I was too hungover, and going to Ensenada is always a guaranteed good time, so I wasn’t sure I could handle another night like that. Mejor fui a Rosaro a la celebración de cumpleaños de Claudia. Fue en la antigua Gondola. Muchos borrachos en esta fiesta. El Verde rapeo... porque es su “Biznes”... y por fin recogí mi camiseta que le comisione al Verdette... very nice, ya veremos cuando la estreno.
Vi a Lore y me platico de su viaje al Defectuose... le di unas nalgadas porque no me llevo. Vi al Ron... y me acorde que alguna vez en mi pecosa adolescencia le escribí una canción... suitably named: Da’ Ron Song. Si la encuentro, luego la posteo... en fin, digo, que les puedo contar, Rosarito siempre es lo mismo; pero con diferente envoltorio. It was a good party.
El domingo con mi familia, no hubo guilt trip... thank Jebus. Instead, there were shandys (pa la cruda), and good humor from my mother. I helped her prepare dinner, by making my favourite salad, which is a spinach, bacon and egg salad, with my homemade vinaigrette. While I was cutting up the bacon my mom asked me... very loudly I might add:

“Aislinn... te pico el huevo?”

I stopped what I was doing and I looked over at her, and she was just looking at me with a huge smirk on her face. We both broke out in laughter. La panza aun me duele de tanta risa. Ah que mi ama....

The Friday Five
What was...

1. ...your first grade teacher's name?
I can't even remember, but it was a nun... you see the Albino Bean went to a Catholic School

2. ...your favorite Saturday morning cartoon?
I liked *The Tick*, but I loved *The Smurfs*

3. ...the name of your very first best friend?
Melissa Jaramillo, all though, she is Cisneros now. We used to ride around my back yard in my tricycle. I would peddle and she would sit in the little back seat thingy. I was 4 and she was 3.

4. ...your favorite breakfast cereal?
Cherios all the way, specially Honey Nut Cherios

5. ...your favorite thing to do after school?
While I waited for my ride home, I would go and buy a Popsicle from *el Pale*... this grumpy old guy who sold ice cream outside our school.

Is there such a thing as coffee drinkers anonymous?
He dejado de tomar café.
Instead, I drink tea. Earl Gray, Chai, Mint-Papaya, Irish Breakfast, English Royal Blend. I also picked up an interesting coffee substitute called Teeccino... it’s herbal coffee.
I was starting to develop a strange dependency on coffee. It wasn’t just one cup anymore; it had to be 4 or 5, so I decided I would try to see how hard it would be for me to leave it. It was surprisingly hard, but I had successfully kicked it for about 4 weeks.
Last saturday I fell off the wagon. I had a cup of coffee and I went nuts. My heart started beating faster. I was talking hurriedly. Laughing hysterically. My hands shook. My eyes shifted from side to side frantically. Then I though... maybe I should drink an espresso too... hmmm.
I can’t help myself; I’m addicted to that brown opiate.
All day and all night I dream of the rich array of bold and complex flavors that I could be treating myself too. French Roast, Colombian, Mocha Java, Espresso Roast, Sumatra or Komodo Dragon, which would be my downfall last saturday.
But alas, I have left that world behind.
I now reside in the understated yet lovely place that is moderated caffeine teas. I sip from my cup with my pinky finger stinking straight out, and I dare not think about my dark, yet richly bold past.

Oh the humanity!!!
Yes, it’s true... the Albino Bean would feel shame if she could, but... ayer me subí al zapatito azul y me fui a San Diego con mi Roomie, rumbo al concierto de...... Britney Spears. There! I said it... so what?
Anyways the tickets were free, we only had to pay the $10 dollar parking. I’ve never felt like such a beaner in all my life:

Ash: How much is parking?
Parking Attendant: 10 dollars
Ash: (extreme mexican accent) 10 dollars!! A la verga!!

I thought to my self *my car isn’t even worth 10 dollars*, but nevertheless, we paid.
We entered the Sports Arena and Kelis (milkshake song) was already on stage. If you are curious about what The Milkshake actually stands for, hit up urban dictionary; they have some pretty interesting definitions....
Walking through the hallways of the arena, it was like we were in the Twilight Zone. I’m still a little freaked out. It was like we were swimming in a sea of bizaro Britney and Paris clones. Short ones, tall ones, fat ones, etc... I mean there were raccoon eyes, spider lashes, half exposed nipples, ass cleavage... and it was everywhere you turned... it was in your face... I swear I saw one girl wearing my belt as a skirt, I kid you not...
We were looking for our seat, that actually turned out to be behind the stage, so we got upgraded to floor seats... all the way in the back, but still floor seats. We got to hear the end of Kelis’ set, and then we waited for maybe half an hour before they turned out the lights.
I have to say, the crowd was not what I expected it to be. I was expecting a bunch of little girls with their parents, what I got was a bunch of crazy-too-much-makeup-wearing-hoochie sorority girls and their boyfriends, of course. There was also a bunch of sistah’s if ya know what I mean.
The show started and well... I can confidently say that there was no actual singing involved, but it was a very elaborate show with lots of costume changes, each more whory than the previous one. It was kind of like a sluty Cirque du Soleil, with lots of boy on boy gyrating. It was pretty fun. Granted, there where some moments where I kept saying to myself *what the hell am I doing here?!!*; but hey it was free!.... y sí... cuando canto la de Slave, si baile poquito, jejeje.
I’m kinda glad there wasn’t a bunch of little kids in the audience, because the show is in no way intended for children. It was kind of like an updated version of Madonna’s Blond Ambition Tour, complete with a *rolling around in a bed with a sweaty dancer* part, in the middle of the show. During that number the big screen in the back of the stage had like a bunch of shadows gettin’ it on. It was pretty hot. That Britney... she’s turning out to be quite the dirty little skank. But I still like Christina more.
Nos salimos antes de que terminara el show, para evitar el tráfico, como todas unas ruquitas. Más ruca me sentí, cuando yo, con chamarra, suetercito y gorrito mamuca, aun tenía frío y veía pasar a las britneys con sus taconcitos, trocito de tela posando por falda y blusita inexistente como si fuera una noche calurosa de agosto.... brrrr.
When I got home, I put on my Marvin Gaye CD, to wash away all the crappy music, and drifted off to sleep remembering monday night with a big grin on my face. Distant Lover indeed.

Should I even talk about the Oscar’s... I mean, like nobody watched it. I’m just mad because Master and Commander only got one, and it went to that dirty old man. But hey, on the bright side, I can now say that I was part of the crew of an Oscar Winning Film, so take that bitches!
I’d have to say that the best part was Billy Cristal and Robin Williams posing as the newlywed gay couple... that and that guy who thanked his beautiful boyfriend. Gay people are a force to be reckoned with and should have the same rights as everyone else.
Anyways... tuve un fin de semana medio frustrado. Dos intentos fallidos de ver “La Pasión”... it was sold out. No hubo aguas termales, because my mother ditched me... al cabo que ni quería. Mejor me largue a San Diego con la Martini y la Wera, pero no hubo shopping for me, because stupid Banamex swallowed half of my money; pero aun así quise acompañar a mis amigas. En una tienda de esas donde te encuentras a medio mundo, me encontré a Anny que andaba de compras con su mami. También vi una doñita que andaba de compras ella, muy mona, con pantuflas y una toalla en la cabeza.
Me fuí a Rosarito, broke y enojada.
Me tome unas chelillas por aquí y por allá, nada interesante. Vi al Pelos... thought about it, but moved on...
I should have just stayed home with Roxy and watched Saturday Night Live...
Stayed at my parents house and that always means getting up early on a sunday to get your good old dose of guilt, but hey, I’m used to it, so it just rolls right off.

“ So, you go to Orlando for a year... and then what are you going to do?”
“You are 25 Aislinn, time is passing and you aren’t DOING anything”
“How is your job coming along?”
“ You need to get organized”
“¿Ya fuiste a ver lo del infonavit?”

What?!... I mean, I don’t even try to answer anymore. It seems to me no matter what you do, parents are never pleased, so why even try. I’m just going to do what I have always done: whatever the hell I want to... hey, it works for me.
Toda la discusión de lo de Orlando fue porque ya me llegó mi primer paquete de Disney (yey!). Es hasta septiembre, pero el hecho de que me voy a ir ya está muy presente, and I know the idea of me being out of my parents immediate reach, scares the shit out of them. It scares me a little to, to be away from my family for so long... but I’m going to get over it. I have to.
This, what I’m experiencing now, while it’s very comfortable, well, it isn’t life... not that working for Disney will be very close to reality either, but it will be one more thing I can add to my experience box. Who knows... I might not ever come back... then you sukas’ are really gonna miss me... no one around to tell you that you suck big fat floppy donky dick... or to *affectionately* kick you in the ass... but hey, I’m going to miss you guys too, even Booger... yes, even you...
But you can come visit... así que empiecen a ahorrar sus centavitos.