I think I'm going to be sick
Roxy loves her junk food, but I might have to reconsider her diet.
miércoles, enero 28, 2004
Hump Day Dedication
Waiting on you... by =w=
Why haven't you called me?
Did you forget me?
I need to know
When were you intending
to break the silence and let me know?
Mine is the loneliest of numbers
and now is the loneliest of times
You're nineteen days late
But still I sit and wait...
Waiting and waiting,
Waiting on you
Who have you been seeing
that made you forget me?
I bet you call him
Where, oh where does he come from
I bet he lives close by
I bet he's just a friend
Dedicada pa mi compa el Gallo, que se queja que ya no le hablo...
Waiting on you... by =w=
Why haven't you called me?
Did you forget me?
I need to know
When were you intending
to break the silence and let me know?
Mine is the loneliest of numbers
and now is the loneliest of times
You're nineteen days late
But still I sit and wait...
Waiting and waiting,
Waiting on you
Who have you been seeing
that made you forget me?
I bet you call him
Where, oh where does he come from
I bet he lives close by
I bet he's just a friend
Dedicada pa mi compa el Gallo, que se queja que ya no le hablo...
martes, enero 27, 2004
Missy Elliot, philosopher extraordinaire
As I was washing dishes last night... replaying my latest obsession in my head (*I'm Hot* by Miss E herself), I was thinking about something that an old friend told me this weekend.
“Aislinn, a ti te pasan esas cosas porque eres una mamona.”
Referring to the naked guy incident. Me lo dijo, no para hacerme sentir mal (not that I would anyway), sino como un cumplido.
I have to say, there is some truth to that. And it’s not so much that I’m a bitch, because if you know me, you understand the nature of this behavior. Being a bitch is my shtick, Aislinn la mamona, es mi personaje, mi caricatura.
Si alguna vez has recibido un *vete a la verga* de mi parte... well that only means that I like you; si nunca te he dirigido una grosería, that just means that I’m too lazy to even care, or give a shit about you... What I’m getting at, is that I can cuss someone out and not alienate them because I fucking own it. That’s right, you gotta own everything single thing you do. You can walk out of your house lookin’ like a hooch, boobs and ass hanging out, if you own it, but if you don’t people will see right through you.
It’ sounds retarded, I know, but there is some truth behind the fluff... It’s all about confidence... confidence is the key to owning something... I can be a bitch, because I own it. I can fill my blog with useless crap because I own it. And I obviously don’t mean *own* in a material sense... what I mean is, be what-ever-the-fuck-you-wanna-be, just work it baby, don’t let shit get you down. At least not the stupid shit. I’m not asking you to be completely insensitive, I just want you to be a little more self-loving. A little narcissism never hurt anyone. Just don’t over do it.
As I was washing dishes last night... replaying my latest obsession in my head (*I'm Hot* by Miss E herself), I was thinking about something that an old friend told me this weekend.
“Aislinn, a ti te pasan esas cosas porque eres una mamona.”
Referring to the naked guy incident. Me lo dijo, no para hacerme sentir mal (not that I would anyway), sino como un cumplido.
I have to say, there is some truth to that. And it’s not so much that I’m a bitch, because if you know me, you understand the nature of this behavior. Being a bitch is my shtick, Aislinn la mamona, es mi personaje, mi caricatura.
Si alguna vez has recibido un *vete a la verga* de mi parte... well that only means that I like you; si nunca te he dirigido una grosería, that just means that I’m too lazy to even care, or give a shit about you... What I’m getting at, is that I can cuss someone out and not alienate them because I fucking own it. That’s right, you gotta own everything single thing you do. You can walk out of your house lookin’ like a hooch, boobs and ass hanging out, if you own it, but if you don’t people will see right through you.
It’ sounds retarded, I know, but there is some truth behind the fluff... It’s all about confidence... confidence is the key to owning something... I can be a bitch, because I own it. I can fill my blog with useless crap because I own it. And I obviously don’t mean *own* in a material sense... what I mean is, be what-ever-the-fuck-you-wanna-be, just work it baby, don’t let shit get you down. At least not the stupid shit. I’m not asking you to be completely insensitive, I just want you to be a little more self-loving. A little narcissism never hurt anyone. Just don’t over do it.
lunes, enero 26, 2004
Monday I hate you
Fin de semana exhaustivo. Quisiera que los weekends fueran de 3 días. At least weekends like these. Viernes fui a San Diego con la Wera, a ver tocar a mi amigo Tim Foley. Su grupo se llama Skelpin, es una mezcla de música Celta y Flamenco. La propuesta era de seguirle a The Field por unas Guinness, pero no se pudo. Sorry Sr. Tim, te la debo.
Next morning, tempranito a Rosarito a el desayuno de los 60 años de mi madre. I can't believe my gorda is 60. She is fantastic; I aspire to be at least half as cool as she is.
Allí mismo, en el desayuno me encontré con una gringa loca que fue mi jefa en mi primer trabajo. I worked for Cindy at the Fish Tacos *Just for The Halibut* for about 5 years. Summers and weekends from the time I was 13 till I was 18. She is the source to go to for all good gossip in Rosarito, and she always has something interesting to talk about. El caso es que la morra me platicó de un club secreto que existe dentro de Disney. La invitaron allí en su cumpleaños anterior. I wasn't aware of this, but apparently it's Walt Disney's old house, and they made it into this super fancy members only restaurant. It's called Club 33. La membresía de un año cuesta $25,000 dlls o algo así y aparte el resta es carísimo, but I guess that if you can afford the membership, the price of the actual meal doesn't really matter. Cindy told me it was an experience of a lifetime, well... I bet it is.
A pesar de que pase la mañana rodeada de doñitas, me la pase muy bien. Uno pensaría que se la pasarían hablando de sartenes, batidoras y los mejor métodos para planchar; pero estoy realmente sorprendida... son re léperas las cabronas. Voy a hacer un exposé: *The secret life of the average Doñita*.
Sabadito in the afternoon y no tenía ningún plan, so I decided to clean up the mess that I call bedroom, como premio... a decent dinner for once: salad with a lovely balsamic vinegar dressing, lasagna and a nice glass or two of merlot. All prepared by yours truly (it was frozen lasagna by the way).
Después de comer sin prisas, me puse mis P.J.'s, y con mi copita de vino, me planté frente a la tele. Then there was a nock at the door. It was Sexy Ugly #2.
Decidimos pasar la noche en casa, ya que estaba haciendo mucho frío; pero como se acabo el vino, tuvimos que salir por más, así que de una vez fuimos por una película también. Debo admitir que Scarface no fue la mejor opción para una noche romántica en casa, but nevertheless it's a good movie.
Next morning, sunday woke up late, too late. I opened my eyes at 1 pm, and I was supposed to be at my parents house at 1.30 dressed and ready to go to my mother's birthday dinner. I panicked, woke up Sexy Ugly, got in the shower and drove like a crazy person. I made it there in less than 30 minutes, but needless to say, I was very late, but fortunately so was everybody else.
Dinner was at a place called Raul's, justo antes de Puerto Nuevo. I was incredibly hungry when I got there, so I drank a draft beer in about 3 gulps. After that, everything seemed so much better. The food, the wine and the company was lovely. My two brothers were there, and that's always fun.
Cuando la comida terminó, el chef mandó Lemonchello para todos, preparado por él mismo. El lemonchello es una aguardiente dulce de limón, casi como un licor, but not quite. Ever eat lemonheads as a kid? That's kinda what it tasted like:
Lemonchello
8 limones
1 litro de alcohol etílico (se consigue en Farmacias)
1 litro de agua mineral
600 gramos de azúcar
Dejar las cáscaras en alcohol durante 1 semana (en un bolsa con tapa) . Disolver el azúcar en agua mineral tibia y agregar el alcohol sin las cáscaras, dejar enfriar y guardar en la heladera.
Esperar una semana antes de tomar.
Con la panza llena y la sangre ligera (de tanto alcohol) regresé a mi casita. Trate de esperar a mi roomie para platicarle los eventos del día; pero a las 7.30 ya estaba en los brazos de Morpheus... damn you lemonchello.
Fin de semana exhaustivo. Quisiera que los weekends fueran de 3 días. At least weekends like these. Viernes fui a San Diego con la Wera, a ver tocar a mi amigo Tim Foley. Su grupo se llama Skelpin, es una mezcla de música Celta y Flamenco. La propuesta era de seguirle a The Field por unas Guinness, pero no se pudo. Sorry Sr. Tim, te la debo.
Next morning, tempranito a Rosarito a el desayuno de los 60 años de mi madre. I can't believe my gorda is 60. She is fantastic; I aspire to be at least half as cool as she is.
Allí mismo, en el desayuno me encontré con una gringa loca que fue mi jefa en mi primer trabajo. I worked for Cindy at the Fish Tacos *Just for The Halibut* for about 5 years. Summers and weekends from the time I was 13 till I was 18. She is the source to go to for all good gossip in Rosarito, and she always has something interesting to talk about. El caso es que la morra me platicó de un club secreto que existe dentro de Disney. La invitaron allí en su cumpleaños anterior. I wasn't aware of this, but apparently it's Walt Disney's old house, and they made it into this super fancy members only restaurant. It's called Club 33. La membresía de un año cuesta $25,000 dlls o algo así y aparte el resta es carísimo, but I guess that if you can afford the membership, the price of the actual meal doesn't really matter. Cindy told me it was an experience of a lifetime, well... I bet it is.
A pesar de que pase la mañana rodeada de doñitas, me la pase muy bien. Uno pensaría que se la pasarían hablando de sartenes, batidoras y los mejor métodos para planchar; pero estoy realmente sorprendida... son re léperas las cabronas. Voy a hacer un exposé: *The secret life of the average Doñita*.
Sabadito in the afternoon y no tenía ningún plan, so I decided to clean up the mess that I call bedroom, como premio... a decent dinner for once: salad with a lovely balsamic vinegar dressing, lasagna and a nice glass or two of merlot. All prepared by yours truly (it was frozen lasagna by the way).
Después de comer sin prisas, me puse mis P.J.'s, y con mi copita de vino, me planté frente a la tele. Then there was a nock at the door. It was Sexy Ugly #2.
Decidimos pasar la noche en casa, ya que estaba haciendo mucho frío; pero como se acabo el vino, tuvimos que salir por más, así que de una vez fuimos por una película también. Debo admitir que Scarface no fue la mejor opción para una noche romántica en casa, but nevertheless it's a good movie.
Next morning, sunday woke up late, too late. I opened my eyes at 1 pm, and I was supposed to be at my parents house at 1.30 dressed and ready to go to my mother's birthday dinner. I panicked, woke up Sexy Ugly, got in the shower and drove like a crazy person. I made it there in less than 30 minutes, but needless to say, I was very late, but fortunately so was everybody else.
Dinner was at a place called Raul's, justo antes de Puerto Nuevo. I was incredibly hungry when I got there, so I drank a draft beer in about 3 gulps. After that, everything seemed so much better. The food, the wine and the company was lovely. My two brothers were there, and that's always fun.
Cuando la comida terminó, el chef mandó Lemonchello para todos, preparado por él mismo. El lemonchello es una aguardiente dulce de limón, casi como un licor, but not quite. Ever eat lemonheads as a kid? That's kinda what it tasted like:
Lemonchello
8 limones
1 litro de alcohol etílico (se consigue en Farmacias)
1 litro de agua mineral
600 gramos de azúcar
Dejar las cáscaras en alcohol durante 1 semana (en un bolsa con tapa) . Disolver el azúcar en agua mineral tibia y agregar el alcohol sin las cáscaras, dejar enfriar y guardar en la heladera.
Esperar una semana antes de tomar.
Con la panza llena y la sangre ligera (de tanto alcohol) regresé a mi casita. Trate de esperar a mi roomie para platicarle los eventos del día; pero a las 7.30 ya estaba en los brazos de Morpheus... damn you lemonchello.
jueves, enero 22, 2004
I'm the only kid on my block with a copy of Pisces Iscariot
Ayer, rondando por la vía rápida en mi zapatito azul pitufo, ame de nuevo la mayonesa... no, no la que odia Anny Manny, si no la versión de los Pumpkins. I hadn’t heard this song in ages and they played it on the radio. I used to be such a fan, but I lost my faith when they released Adore, but still... La voz de Billy Crogan me transportó a 1994, donde en años de bachinerdato internacional, adquirí valiosas amistades y el nickname “Big Red”, entre otras cosas. Aquel tiempo cuando el teenage angst estaba in full efect, y me encerraba por horas y horas en mi cuarto escuchando Siamese Dream. Playing Soma, over and over again, laying on the floor of my room...
So now I'm all by myself
As I've always felt
I'll betray my tears
To anyone caught in our ruse of fools
Billy Corgan... lanky legs, crooked teeth, creepy look and all, was my teenage fantasy. He was and always will be the epitome of Sexy Ugly.
Ayer, rondando por la vía rápida en mi zapatito azul pitufo, ame de nuevo la mayonesa... no, no la que odia Anny Manny, si no la versión de los Pumpkins. I hadn’t heard this song in ages and they played it on the radio. I used to be such a fan, but I lost my faith when they released Adore, but still... La voz de Billy Crogan me transportó a 1994, donde en años de bachinerdato internacional, adquirí valiosas amistades y el nickname “Big Red”, entre otras cosas. Aquel tiempo cuando el teenage angst estaba in full efect, y me encerraba por horas y horas en mi cuarto escuchando Siamese Dream. Playing Soma, over and over again, laying on the floor of my room...
So now I'm all by myself
As I've always felt
I'll betray my tears
To anyone caught in our ruse of fools
Billy Corgan... lanky legs, crooked teeth, creepy look and all, was my teenage fantasy. He was and always will be the epitome of Sexy Ugly.
I don't wanna grow up, I'm a toys r us kid
This morning, I woke up to two bits of news:
1) Yet another shoot out in the TJ Corral.
2) My old room at my parent’s house has been occupied.
Now which of these two, do you think caused the most distress?
Como soy Aislinn “it’s all about me” Puig, pues claro que me encabroné al saber que mi hermanito, el Booger pasea su trasero apestoso y peludo, en lo que antes era Albino Bean Sanctuary. That four wall haven of pink and purple is no longer my own. De ahora en adelante me quedare en la habitación de huéspedes.... I was expecting it, pero de todos modos se siente gacho
This morning, I woke up to two bits of news:
1) Yet another shoot out in the TJ Corral.
2) My old room at my parent’s house has been occupied.
Now which of these two, do you think caused the most distress?
Como soy Aislinn “it’s all about me” Puig, pues claro que me encabroné al saber que mi hermanito, el Booger pasea su trasero apestoso y peludo, en lo que antes era Albino Bean Sanctuary. That four wall haven of pink and purple is no longer my own. De ahora en adelante me quedare en la habitación de huéspedes.... I was expecting it, pero de todos modos se siente gacho
lunes, enero 19, 2004
No andes calentando el agua, si no te vas a bañar.
My weekend got off to a slow start. No fui a trabajar el viernes, pero no entraré en los detalles de eso. El caso es que después de enemil planes potenciales, (cine con Sofia, chelas con Piwi y el Gallo, o la cervecería) me quede acompañada del único hombre que no me falla los viernes por la noche... David Letterman... sad but true. Se siente raro despertar un sábado temprano, y sin cruda. Aproveche esta rara ocurrencia para hacer cositas pendientes, hasta fui al gimnasio (no, really). Más tarde, ya bañadita y todo, me largué al cine con Sofía. Después nos fuimos de nuevo a la casita. Platicamos un buen y nos tomamos unos alcoholitos. Mientras Sofía hablaba yo hacía mi ritual de sábado por la noche de ponerme Ghetto Fabulous; porque iba al cumple de la Lore en Rosatlan. Me dio pena bailar en calzones (como es el ritual) frente a Sofía, así que me contuve. Despedí a la Sophy y subí todo el tilichero al carro, of to Rosarito we go (we as in Roxy and me).
Deje a Roxy con sus abuelos, Y le llame al Sexy Ugly version 2.0. Pasé por el y sobre unas High Life (the champagne of beers) tuvimos una buena platicadita frente al mar Rosaritense. Después de una fuerte labor de convencimiento por mi parte, por fin lo convencí de acompañarme a la fiesta de Lore. La cosa con el Sexy Ugly 2.0 es que le platico todo, y soy de la idea, que solo me cree un 25% de lo que le digo. He just seems to smile and nod (a la Homer). So, I really wanted to prove to him that these crazy people that I consider my friends, really do exist outside of my head. I proved it to him... boy did I ever.
La fiesta fue como cualquier otro party de la Lore. Lots of people, lots of booze. Como llegué con el pimp coat bien puesto, una high life en una mano y mi boy toy en la otra, la carrilla no faltó. El Louie me dijo: That’s Uruk-hai beer.
Lo siento, you can take the girl out of the hood but... well, you know. Como es Rosaro, conocía a everyone, except for one guy que se la paso chingando toda la noche... que si de donde me conocía, que si yo era de Chicali, que si yo le compre una de sus *obras de arte* alguna vez, and on and on... jeez, I mean, hay que darle puntos por merito. Que exactamente quería el vato? Quien sabe. Because I was obviously not alone at this party, so I suppose he wasn’t hitting on me. Luego me sale con que yo tengo cara de que tengo mucho dinero. Nunca me había reído tanto en mi vida. Se corrigió: “poder, quiero decir, pareces ser una mujer con mucho... poder”.
Shit, la cosa se empezaba a poner seria. Para esto ya Claudia, Lore y demás estaban involucrados; pero yo ya me había enfadado de sus suposiciones, así que me perdí un rato con #2. The party goes on, more ghetto jokes, more asking who the hell that guy was and who invited him, cuando de repente el vatillo este empieza a decirme que soy la mujer más dificil que ha conocido en todo Rosarito, y que debido a esto, me merecía una de sus obras de arte. Me la había ganado, acording to him. So I thought to my self: “bring on the free loot”.
Me sale con unos flyers variados, to which I promptly responded with a “vete a la verga”. Hazme el favor, unos flyers?, le dije que no mamara. At this point, there was a croud observing the whole thing. Se dio cuenta de que con un simple volante no me convencería, asi que se fue a buscar otra cosa para captar mi atención. Regresa y me dice que voy a tener de donde escoger. Me dara tres opciones. Me pasa una impresión y me dice que esa es la número 1. Una sirena/nature woman, media rara, medio sucky. Número 2: un Pavarotti flaco, en la Laguna Salada sobre una carreta. Muy saico, pero también bastante blah... entonces, allí sentada con sexy ugly a mi ladito, observando las “obras de arte”, I wasn’t really impressed, y creo que Sr. Saico se dio cuenta, porque cuando me dijo número 3 no me dio nada, so I look over, and the shirt was coming off. Por un momento pense que me mostraría algún tatuaje or some narcissistic thing like that, pero no!... este vato, procedió a quitarse todo... and I do mean everything.
So he was standing there next to Sexy Ugly, looking over at me, con ojos expectativos. Dije lo único que pude: escojo la #1.
Chaos ensued. En eso, sale Louie de quien sabe donde y lo saco a empujones, in his nakedness, a la calle. Que yo sepa, si le aventaron su ropa, shortly there after.
Los chistes sobre su “pequeña” escenita abundaron. Me regañaron por andar prendiendo fuegos que luego no podía apagar, pero en fin, la fiesta siguió. Llegue a casa de mis padres con el sol, muy borracha y con una sonrisota de oreja a oreja.
I fucking love Rosarito.
My weekend got off to a slow start. No fui a trabajar el viernes, pero no entraré en los detalles de eso. El caso es que después de enemil planes potenciales, (cine con Sofia, chelas con Piwi y el Gallo, o la cervecería) me quede acompañada del único hombre que no me falla los viernes por la noche... David Letterman... sad but true. Se siente raro despertar un sábado temprano, y sin cruda. Aproveche esta rara ocurrencia para hacer cositas pendientes, hasta fui al gimnasio (no, really). Más tarde, ya bañadita y todo, me largué al cine con Sofía. Después nos fuimos de nuevo a la casita. Platicamos un buen y nos tomamos unos alcoholitos. Mientras Sofía hablaba yo hacía mi ritual de sábado por la noche de ponerme Ghetto Fabulous; porque iba al cumple de la Lore en Rosatlan. Me dio pena bailar en calzones (como es el ritual) frente a Sofía, así que me contuve. Despedí a la Sophy y subí todo el tilichero al carro, of to Rosarito we go (we as in Roxy and me).
Deje a Roxy con sus abuelos, Y le llame al Sexy Ugly version 2.0. Pasé por el y sobre unas High Life (the champagne of beers) tuvimos una buena platicadita frente al mar Rosaritense. Después de una fuerte labor de convencimiento por mi parte, por fin lo convencí de acompañarme a la fiesta de Lore. La cosa con el Sexy Ugly 2.0 es que le platico todo, y soy de la idea, que solo me cree un 25% de lo que le digo. He just seems to smile and nod (a la Homer). So, I really wanted to prove to him that these crazy people that I consider my friends, really do exist outside of my head. I proved it to him... boy did I ever.
La fiesta fue como cualquier otro party de la Lore. Lots of people, lots of booze. Como llegué con el pimp coat bien puesto, una high life en una mano y mi boy toy en la otra, la carrilla no faltó. El Louie me dijo: That’s Uruk-hai beer.
Lo siento, you can take the girl out of the hood but... well, you know. Como es Rosaro, conocía a everyone, except for one guy que se la paso chingando toda la noche... que si de donde me conocía, que si yo era de Chicali, que si yo le compre una de sus *obras de arte* alguna vez, and on and on... jeez, I mean, hay que darle puntos por merito. Que exactamente quería el vato? Quien sabe. Because I was obviously not alone at this party, so I suppose he wasn’t hitting on me. Luego me sale con que yo tengo cara de que tengo mucho dinero. Nunca me había reído tanto en mi vida. Se corrigió: “poder, quiero decir, pareces ser una mujer con mucho... poder”.
Shit, la cosa se empezaba a poner seria. Para esto ya Claudia, Lore y demás estaban involucrados; pero yo ya me había enfadado de sus suposiciones, así que me perdí un rato con #2. The party goes on, more ghetto jokes, more asking who the hell that guy was and who invited him, cuando de repente el vatillo este empieza a decirme que soy la mujer más dificil que ha conocido en todo Rosarito, y que debido a esto, me merecía una de sus obras de arte. Me la había ganado, acording to him. So I thought to my self: “bring on the free loot”.
Me sale con unos flyers variados, to which I promptly responded with a “vete a la verga”. Hazme el favor, unos flyers?, le dije que no mamara. At this point, there was a croud observing the whole thing. Se dio cuenta de que con un simple volante no me convencería, asi que se fue a buscar otra cosa para captar mi atención. Regresa y me dice que voy a tener de donde escoger. Me dara tres opciones. Me pasa una impresión y me dice que esa es la número 1. Una sirena/nature woman, media rara, medio sucky. Número 2: un Pavarotti flaco, en la Laguna Salada sobre una carreta. Muy saico, pero también bastante blah... entonces, allí sentada con sexy ugly a mi ladito, observando las “obras de arte”, I wasn’t really impressed, y creo que Sr. Saico se dio cuenta, porque cuando me dijo número 3 no me dio nada, so I look over, and the shirt was coming off. Por un momento pense que me mostraría algún tatuaje or some narcissistic thing like that, pero no!... este vato, procedió a quitarse todo... and I do mean everything.
So he was standing there next to Sexy Ugly, looking over at me, con ojos expectativos. Dije lo único que pude: escojo la #1.
Chaos ensued. En eso, sale Louie de quien sabe donde y lo saco a empujones, in his nakedness, a la calle. Que yo sepa, si le aventaron su ropa, shortly there after.
Los chistes sobre su “pequeña” escenita abundaron. Me regañaron por andar prendiendo fuegos que luego no podía apagar, pero en fin, la fiesta siguió. Llegue a casa de mis padres con el sol, muy borracha y con una sonrisota de oreja a oreja.
I fucking love Rosarito.
lunes, enero 12, 2004
Just another manic monday...
I hate mondays. Eso de ser un miserable asalariado... well, it sucks ass. El calor que proporcionan mis cobijas me estaba convenciendo de quedarme en casa este día, pero NO! Trataré de ser un 10 % más responsable este año, o un 20% menos huevona, como le gusten poner.
Me he dado cuenta que la única manera de realmente hacer dinerito, y disfrutar de él, es teniendo tu propio negocio. Pensaba en esto ayer mientras caminaba en la playa con Lore, Ninis, y la Roxy. Lorena puede ir a la playa con su nena, cuando guste, tal vez no lo haga, pero tiene la opción, porque ella tiene una tiendita de puros, es su propia jefa. Mientras una da su valioso tiempo, para hacer dinero para otros. Y que recibo a cambio? Not much, that’s for fucking sure.
La verdad, del dinero, no me puedo quejar, no gano tan mal, me defiendo; pero este jale no produce ningún tipo de satisfacción. Puedo vender spa covers o huaraches, me da igual. It’s just work. Es muy fácil decir que aceptaría menos dinero, a cambio de hacer algo que realmente me gusta... pero la neta, recibir X cantidad cada viernes es muy cómodo, y me he vuelto esclava de esa comodidad, de la cierta estabilidad económica de la que gozo. Aunque debo admitir que cualquier gasto extra que se presente me hace pasar por la calle de la amargura. Es decir, si me enfermo, o la Roxy necesita ir al veterinario, o hay que llamar al plomero, ya me chingue comiendo atún por dos semanas; pero es parte de la vida y no hay pedo. Como cantan los Cadillacs:“Gano Poco, Gano Mal, Hay poco que comer, pero tengo para bailar y eso si está bien”
El poder llevar la vida en paz, y decir que realmente no me hace falta nada es lo que hace que se me olvide, que todas esas horas que me mato trabajando, a cambio de un sueldito, son en vano, cuando los verdaderos frutos de mi sangre y sudor, los recibe alguien más.
Me he hecho la propuesta de crear mi propio negocio, y me he puesto un limite de tiempo: My 30th birthday.
Así que todavía tengo un ratillo para hacer desmadre, mientras junto lana.
Por otro lado... ando medio preocupada porque no puedo llevar a la Roxy a Orlando, así que estoy aceptando solicitudes para dogsitters potenciales. Favor de mandarlos a aislinnp@hotmail.com; pero tomar en cuenta que Roxy, huele mal, es pedorra, ronca, y tiene fetish de dedos de los pies y pantunflas.
I hate mondays. Eso de ser un miserable asalariado... well, it sucks ass. El calor que proporcionan mis cobijas me estaba convenciendo de quedarme en casa este día, pero NO! Trataré de ser un 10 % más responsable este año, o un 20% menos huevona, como le gusten poner.
Me he dado cuenta que la única manera de realmente hacer dinerito, y disfrutar de él, es teniendo tu propio negocio. Pensaba en esto ayer mientras caminaba en la playa con Lore, Ninis, y la Roxy. Lorena puede ir a la playa con su nena, cuando guste, tal vez no lo haga, pero tiene la opción, porque ella tiene una tiendita de puros, es su propia jefa. Mientras una da su valioso tiempo, para hacer dinero para otros. Y que recibo a cambio? Not much, that’s for fucking sure.
La verdad, del dinero, no me puedo quejar, no gano tan mal, me defiendo; pero este jale no produce ningún tipo de satisfacción. Puedo vender spa covers o huaraches, me da igual. It’s just work. Es muy fácil decir que aceptaría menos dinero, a cambio de hacer algo que realmente me gusta... pero la neta, recibir X cantidad cada viernes es muy cómodo, y me he vuelto esclava de esa comodidad, de la cierta estabilidad económica de la que gozo. Aunque debo admitir que cualquier gasto extra que se presente me hace pasar por la calle de la amargura. Es decir, si me enfermo, o la Roxy necesita ir al veterinario, o hay que llamar al plomero, ya me chingue comiendo atún por dos semanas; pero es parte de la vida y no hay pedo. Como cantan los Cadillacs:“Gano Poco, Gano Mal, Hay poco que comer, pero tengo para bailar y eso si está bien”
El poder llevar la vida en paz, y decir que realmente no me hace falta nada es lo que hace que se me olvide, que todas esas horas que me mato trabajando, a cambio de un sueldito, son en vano, cuando los verdaderos frutos de mi sangre y sudor, los recibe alguien más.
Me he hecho la propuesta de crear mi propio negocio, y me he puesto un limite de tiempo: My 30th birthday.
Así que todavía tengo un ratillo para hacer desmadre, mientras junto lana.
Por otro lado... ando medio preocupada porque no puedo llevar a la Roxy a Orlando, así que estoy aceptando solicitudes para dogsitters potenciales. Favor de mandarlos a aislinnp@hotmail.com; pero tomar en cuenta que Roxy, huele mal, es pedorra, ronca, y tiene fetish de dedos de los pies y pantunflas.
viernes, enero 09, 2004
Las Cinco del Viernes
1)En este mismo instante me encantaría tener...
Un aumento de sueldo.
2) De pequeño/a mi madre siempre me decía...
“ooog dear.. you will always be my pigeon pie”
3) Cada vez que me miro en el espejo pienso...
“damn, make up rocks my world”
4) Quién habría imaginado que...
Que la Martini y yo, le enseñaríamos a un Hobbit a tomar tequila.
5) La gente suele decirme que me parezco mucho a...
Alicia Villareal
1)En este mismo instante me encantaría tener...
Un aumento de sueldo.
2) De pequeño/a mi madre siempre me decía...
“ooog dear.. you will always be my pigeon pie”
3) Cada vez que me miro en el espejo pienso...
“damn, make up rocks my world”
4) Quién habría imaginado que...
Que la Martini y yo, le enseñaríamos a un Hobbit a tomar tequila.
5) La gente suele decirme que me parezco mucho a...
Alicia Villareal
Wet dream indeed
I had the loveliest dream the other night.... I was in Miami getting ready to go on a Cruise, but as I approached the vessel, (which strangely resembled the one from "The Love Boat") I realized this wasn't just any old cruise, this was the "Rock and Roll Cruise".
It was a 7 day cruise to the Caribbean where you would be able to party in the company of rock stars and every night indulge in a different show.
There were all sorts of people there. There was an Irish guy that kept asking me if I had seen Antony. I spotted Weezer, The Get up Kids, Al Green, T-Rex, Mr. G. Love himself, among others.... All though, Al Green was wearing a sailor outfit and kept trying to give me daiquiris... hmmm, very weird; and it seemed that James Brown was the captain of said boat, which in my opinion, was very expected.
Maybe I should pitch this idea to one of the Cruise Lines...
I had the loveliest dream the other night.... I was in Miami getting ready to go on a Cruise, but as I approached the vessel, (which strangely resembled the one from "The Love Boat") I realized this wasn't just any old cruise, this was the "Rock and Roll Cruise".
It was a 7 day cruise to the Caribbean where you would be able to party in the company of rock stars and every night indulge in a different show.
There were all sorts of people there. There was an Irish guy that kept asking me if I had seen Antony. I spotted Weezer, The Get up Kids, Al Green, T-Rex, Mr. G. Love himself, among others.... All though, Al Green was wearing a sailor outfit and kept trying to give me daiquiris... hmmm, very weird; and it seemed that James Brown was the captain of said boat, which in my opinion, was very expected.
Maybe I should pitch this idea to one of the Cruise Lines...
I'm going tot he land where ducks don't wear pants
Miss Aislinn has a little news to share... remember the whole Disney debacle that was spoken about in previous postings? Well... they called, and they said:.... I'm in!!!!
I will be spreading the Albino Bean cheer in Orlando some time in late 2004. I'm excited and a litle nervous to tell you the truth. The whole thing is still 9 months away, but I just can't wait. I've been trying to stay very positive in some aspects of my life lately (work not being one of them) but things seem to be turning around in this new year.
Miss Aislinn has a little news to share... remember the whole Disney debacle that was spoken about in previous postings? Well... they called, and they said:.... I'm in!!!!
I will be spreading the Albino Bean cheer in Orlando some time in late 2004. I'm excited and a litle nervous to tell you the truth. The whole thing is still 9 months away, but I just can't wait. I've been trying to stay very positive in some aspects of my life lately (work not being one of them) but things seem to be turning around in this new year.
lunes, enero 05, 2004
Me canse de esperarte...
So... el vatillo de L5 no me contestaba asi que el 31 de diciembre le mande esto:
Mr. Cohn:
I appreciate your response, and I know that your staff is very polite, because I absolutely love going to the Corvette Diner, I've been there a bunch of times, and I am always treated very well, that's why I was so surprised when I found out that Cohn Restaurant Group owned L5... but still, I have been waiting for more than a week now for you to get back to me. I know it's the holidays and that you are probably busy with friends and family, but I just wanted to let you know that I will not let go of this issue till it is resolved. My friends and I think that we were treated unfairly and we ask you to please look into it.
Thank you and have a happy new year
Aislinn Puig
Later that same day, he responded with this:
Dear Aislinn,
I apologize for the delay in this response, however, I am still waiting for more information. This is what I have found out through my meetings with our General Manager and Security Staff. Our Security Staff held a routine ID training class with the San Diego Police Department (SDPD) on December 12th. During that training, Detective Larry Darwant (619.***.****) of the San Diego Police Vice Department was specifically asked about the Federal Border Crossing Card. His response was although he understood that it was a "valid" form of identification, he did not recommend it as a "bona-fide" form of identification for purposes of alcoholic beverage service as the Border Crossing Card does not contain a physical description. We have asked for this statement in writing, however Detective Darwant is on vacation through the first week in January. To verify this information I spoke with Investigator Jennifer Hill (619.***.****) at the California Department of Alcoholic Beverage Control(ABC). Investigator Hill confirmed this information and referred me to Section 25660 of the California Alcoholic Beverage Control Act which states that "to be a suitable documentary evidence of age and identity an identification card must be issued by a governmental agency and have a current description and a picture of the person presenting it which reasonably describes the person as to date of birth, weight, height, sex and color of eyes and hair". As you can see, this is our dilemma, your Federally issued Border Crossing Card allows you to legally enter the USA, however, it does not contain the information required by the State of California for purposes of alcoholic beverage service. As our L5 Nightclub is frequently inspected by the San Diego Police Vice Squad, we are very strict about protecting our ABC License and therefore our staff has been following the guidance given by SDPD and ABC. I understand that my friends at The Field or Cafe Sevilla or The Belly Up may be willing to take the risk of accepting this ID, however, they are doing it against the recommendation of the governmental agencies that regulate them.
Again, I apologize for any inconvenience we caused you and your guests, however, I assure you that this issue has nothing to do with your Nationality or any other factor.
I look forward to your response and wish you a very Happy New Year,
David Cohn
President
Cohn Restaurant Group
Estoy escribiendo la respuesta....
So... el vatillo de L5 no me contestaba asi que el 31 de diciembre le mande esto:
Mr. Cohn:
I appreciate your response, and I know that your staff is very polite, because I absolutely love going to the Corvette Diner, I've been there a bunch of times, and I am always treated very well, that's why I was so surprised when I found out that Cohn Restaurant Group owned L5... but still, I have been waiting for more than a week now for you to get back to me. I know it's the holidays and that you are probably busy with friends and family, but I just wanted to let you know that I will not let go of this issue till it is resolved. My friends and I think that we were treated unfairly and we ask you to please look into it.
Thank you and have a happy new year
Aislinn Puig
Later that same day, he responded with this:
Dear Aislinn,
I apologize for the delay in this response, however, I am still waiting for more information. This is what I have found out through my meetings with our General Manager and Security Staff. Our Security Staff held a routine ID training class with the San Diego Police Department (SDPD) on December 12th. During that training, Detective Larry Darwant (619.***.****) of the San Diego Police Vice Department was specifically asked about the Federal Border Crossing Card. His response was although he understood that it was a "valid" form of identification, he did not recommend it as a "bona-fide" form of identification for purposes of alcoholic beverage service as the Border Crossing Card does not contain a physical description. We have asked for this statement in writing, however Detective Darwant is on vacation through the first week in January. To verify this information I spoke with Investigator Jennifer Hill (619.***.****) at the California Department of Alcoholic Beverage Control(ABC). Investigator Hill confirmed this information and referred me to Section 25660 of the California Alcoholic Beverage Control Act which states that "to be a suitable documentary evidence of age and identity an identification card must be issued by a governmental agency and have a current description and a picture of the person presenting it which reasonably describes the person as to date of birth, weight, height, sex and color of eyes and hair". As you can see, this is our dilemma, your Federally issued Border Crossing Card allows you to legally enter the USA, however, it does not contain the information required by the State of California for purposes of alcoholic beverage service. As our L5 Nightclub is frequently inspected by the San Diego Police Vice Squad, we are very strict about protecting our ABC License and therefore our staff has been following the guidance given by SDPD and ABC. I understand that my friends at The Field or Cafe Sevilla or The Belly Up may be willing to take the risk of accepting this ID, however, they are doing it against the recommendation of the governmental agencies that regulate them.
Again, I apologize for any inconvenience we caused you and your guests, however, I assure you that this issue has nothing to do with your Nationality or any other factor.
I look forward to your response and wish you a very Happy New Year,
David Cohn
President
Cohn Restaurant Group
Estoy escribiendo la respuesta....
viernes, enero 02, 2004
No shit sherlock
No hace mucho, le comentaba a un amigo, que entre más grande te haces, menos son los regalos de navidad, “ey si es cierto” me contestó. Este año solo recibí 5 cositas, pero adoro cada una, cause lets face it, when your a kid, you might get more stuff, but there is a lot of crap mixed in. So, maybe it is true that you receive less as you get older, but quality increases.
Here is the loot:
1) CD de Café Tacuba. 4 Caminos. (del intercambio de la oficina)
2) Una bata para el baño con mi incial. (en el intercambio de mi casa)
3) Una cobija rosa con estampado de leopardo. (mi madrina, porque sabe que realmente soy una naca)
4) Una vale para ticketbastard. (Yoyo you rock!)
5) Una cajita, con cremas, aceite para masaje y calzones comestibles. (mi roomie, tratando de despertar mi inner freak).
6) Un libro... Cacas: The Encyclopedia of Poo.
This last one was the best, no question.
Lorena, mi comadre, me dio este libro a raíz de la presentación del fanzine del Verdette y de Claudia. It obviously involved a mention of my fascination with shit.
Now, if I only had a coffee table to display it on.....
No hace mucho, le comentaba a un amigo, que entre más grande te haces, menos son los regalos de navidad, “ey si es cierto” me contestó. Este año solo recibí 5 cositas, pero adoro cada una, cause lets face it, when your a kid, you might get more stuff, but there is a lot of crap mixed in. So, maybe it is true that you receive less as you get older, but quality increases.
Here is the loot:
1) CD de Café Tacuba. 4 Caminos. (del intercambio de la oficina)
2) Una bata para el baño con mi incial. (en el intercambio de mi casa)
3) Una cobija rosa con estampado de leopardo. (mi madrina, porque sabe que realmente soy una naca)
4) Una vale para ticketbastard. (Yoyo you rock!)
5) Una cajita, con cremas, aceite para masaje y calzones comestibles. (mi roomie, tratando de despertar mi inner freak).
6) Un libro... Cacas: The Encyclopedia of Poo.
This last one was the best, no question.
Lorena, mi comadre, me dio este libro a raíz de la presentación del fanzine del Verdette y de Claudia. It obviously involved a mention of my fascination with shit.
Now, if I only had a coffee table to display it on.....
miércoles, diciembre 31, 2003
No dormí nada anoche. Sin embargo me siento muy bien esta mañana, no tengo la espalda adolorida ni las piernas tiesas porque no pase frío. Why you might ask? I had company last night. Me encanta sentir el calor de otro cuerpo cerca de mi, be it man, woman or beast. Fortunately, for your sake and mine the species next to me was man... very hairy, but still man.
El calor que proporciona otro cuerpo es inigualable por ninguna cobija; pero soy malísima para dormir con alguien más. Es como si me diera miedo que esa persona me conociera en mi estado más vulnerable. No me refiero a cuando compartes algo intimo con alguien, si no a cuando duermes. Cuando duermes, eres, estas... nadie escucha tus ideas, ni sabe que eres malhablada, o que tienes una extraña relación con tu perra. Es mucho más intimo que cualquier relación física. Toda clase de cosas pasan por mi cabeza: y si hablo dormida? Y si me tiro un pedo? Y si se me sale la baba?.... y si ronco?...
Pues no creo que mis ronquidos hubieran sobrepasado los de Roxy, que duerme en mi cuarto desde que hace frío (Pugs snore like people) y menos, los ronquidos del propio hombre.
So, lying there, listening to them snore simultaneously, I was able to let my guard down and relax, but I still didn’t sleep a wink... pero tengo el placer de decir que en este clima frío, anoche sufrí de un poco de calor, and that’s always nice.
lunes, diciembre 29, 2003
Vete a la verga con el frío que esta haciendo. Paso la noches tensa del frío, y maldiciendo a la Wera, que en estos momentos debe estar tirada en alguna playa de los Cabos, con la panza hinchada de cerveza... damn you!!!!
El único remedio para este clima es una bebida que mi madre me enseño a preparar:
1 tsp. Sugar, Boiling Water, 1 1/4 oz. Brandy, Bourbon or Choice of Liquor
In a mug, add 1 teaspoon of sugar and your liquor choice. Fill with hot water, garnish with an orange or lemon twist.
Mum always makes it with whiskey though... a bit of the irish mist never hurt anyone. Lo malo es que el único licor que tengo en casa es una asquerosa botella de Jimador que tiene 6 meses en el congelador. Así que ni modo, a abrigarse y como dice mi roomie: a morderse una chichi.
Con frío y todo el sabadito, salí a rentar una movie y a pasar un ratillo con mis bitches. Rentamos Donnie Darko, muy recomendable para quien no la haya visto. Luego a la plaza, al Doberman, que es como un CBGB tercermundista, lo digo solo porque esta justo al lado del basurero de la plaza, asi que apesta peor que la Roxy. Fui a ver un compa que tocaría por ultima vez con su grupo, kind of bitter sweet. Said my hellos and off to another bar. Lo mejor de la noche fue una Murphy’s en el Sótano. Como me encantaría que en algún lugar de esta ciudad vendieran stout de barril, por lo pronto me conformo con la versión en lata que encuentro aquí.
Tenía mucho que no iba a la plaza, it felt weird. All night long I kept hearing Rivers Cuomo in my head:
I don't wanna be a old man anymore
It's been a year or two since I was out on the floor
Shakin' booty, makin' sweet love all the night
It's time I got back to the Good Life
It's time I got back, it's time I got back
'n I don't even know how I got off the track
I wanna go back, yeah!
Ah... if only everything in life could be explained with a Weezer song.
martes, diciembre 23, 2003
Ya cayó el primero.
Dear Aislinn,
First, let me apologize for the recent incident at our L5 Nightclub. I just
returned to the office and received your e-mail. I have not had a chance to
discuss the situation with our L5 General Manager, Jamie Familo, or our
Security Staff. I will discuss the situation with them as soon as possible
and get back to you with more information. In the meantime, I want to
assure you that we welcome Guests of all nationalities, creeds, colors and
sexual orientation. Our STAFF and GUESTS are truly as culturally diverse as
you mentioned and it is our goal to make everyone feel at home.
Happy Holidays,
David Cohn
President
Cohn Restaurant Group
www.cohnrestaurants.com
lunes, diciembre 22, 2003
El viernes por la noche pase por una situación muy desagradable. Estoy harta de contarla, así que le dare un *copy-paste* a la carta que escribí en respuesta a lo que me paso:
To Whom It May Concern:
I write this letter not in anger, but in shock because of the way I was treated on Friday, December 19th at the nightclub L5 in the Gaslamp Quarter.
I, along with three friends, traveled up from México, because we had tickets to see Blackalicius at that nightclub, later that night. We went for a couple of drinks at other bars, before we headed to L5.
I love the Gaslamp, I frequent bars like the Field, Cafe Sevilla. I go to concerts all around San Diego, from 4th and B to the Belly Up Tavern. I dine often at places like The Corvette Diner and Bucca di Beppo, just to name a few. The service is fantastic and that’s what keeps me coming back. Nothing could have prepared me for what I experienced on that night.
We had purchased tickets for the show two weeks in advanced, so we walked right up to the entrance. When asked for our ID we all pulled out our Border Crossing Card, which we had used all night to get into other bars. The Border Crossing Card is actually a US Federal Government issued B-1/B-2 visa, commonly known as a Laser-visa.
The bouncer took one glance at our identification and asked to please stand aside, which we did. The head of security came out and again, looked at our identification and proceeded to tell us that we could not get in because our ID was not valid. He said we needed a California ID and when we said that we were all Mexican nationals and could not obtain identification issued by the state of California, he then told us that we needed a passport. I went on to explain to this individual that the Laser-visa might not be and actual passport, but it’s what we use to get across the border. My friend Armando explained to “Matt” (he wouldn’t give me his last name) that the Laser-visa is one of the most secure ID’s in the world, made by the US government specifically to help avoid the trafficking of fake documentation, because this ID is almost impossible to duplicate. What Matt said next was appalling:
-“I can go down to Tijuana right now and pick up one of these ID’s for 50
Dollars”
-“These ID’s are a dime a dozen”
Now it seemed that this person wasn’t letting us in, not because our ID was not valid, but because there was a possibility that it was fraudulent. If this is true, was he telling me that a regular California ID couldn’t be counterfeit?
To us it seemed that he wasn’t letting is because we were Mexican; because how is it possible that I have been carded at The Corvette Diner, another establishment of the same owner (Cohn Restaurant Group) and they didn’t seem to have any problems with my identification?
I don’t think the US government would make us pay about 100 dollars and make us wait for three months if this ID could be easily duplicated and picked up off the street for 50 dollars.
Also, if this person knows where to pick up fake border crossing papers in Tijuana, I would ask him to cooperate with US immigration and Homeland Security officials to help this problem stop.
It seems ridiculous to me, that in a community as culturally diverse as San Diego I was treated this way, but I won’t let one persons ignorance faze me, in fact I attended the Kinky show at 4th and B on Sunday night, and I had no problem using my Laser-visa to get in; so I will continue to go out in San Diego but one thing is for sure, I will never return to L5, or to any other Cohn Restaurant Group owned establishment for that matter. I will go spend my hard earned devaluated pesos at a place were I am respected and not treated like a second-class customer because of my nationality.
Sincerely
Aislinn Puig
Rosarito, B.C. MEXICO
No mames... lo bueno es que pudimos vender los boletos afuera del lugar antes de que empezara el concierto; y lo más chingón es que a fin de cuentas Blackalicius ni toco por pedos con el promotor.
Esta mañana ya mande la carta a L5, a Blackalicius, a Cohn Restaurant Group y a la Prensa, un periódico latino de San Diego.
En cuanto reciba respuesta, lo posteo.
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