Last night after the Super Bowl, Paul and I went to a “shoe show” (Scandals). At first I was psyched but this voice in my head kept telling me to act responsibly and save money. Perhaps it was the booze or the high from watching the Giants win that made me ignore all reason and spend like an idiot.
Now this post isn’t about me spending money and later regretting it, which I do. It’s really about Paul’s lucid observation on strippers and witty remark.
Strippers panhandle with their tits.
You either read that and were slightly amused, laughing uncontrollably or totally offended. To those offended few, please leave and never visit my blog again. For the rest of you that posses a sense of humor, allow me to now direct your attention to the following video.
So are strippers just panhandling with their tits? I think so. Thank you Paul for enlightening me.
Memory Lane
I got invited to watch the Super Bowl at Billy’s apartment. It happened to be in my old neighborhood, Astoria. Sandy and I only lived there for a year but as soon as I got off the train I felt awkward. These feelings of sadness, failure and loneliness washed over me. Like a storm they snuck up on me sending wave upon wave of emotion crashing down on me. My head and heart began to spin out of control and in the blink of an eye I regained my senses.
It always makes me think about the electric impulses that run through our brain triggering feelings and unlocking memories. One part of the brain fires causing another then another till you have this massive chain reaction that overloads the system causing use to cry or in my case, reboot.
How many times have I cried due to emotion?
While watching Ghost (Yes, the Patrick Swayze, Whoopi Goldberg and Demi Moore movie).
When my younger brother died.
When I left my first love, Anna.
When I couldn’t find a full time job for over a year during the Dot Com bubble burst.
When I realized my marriage was over
Looking at that list I really am disappointed in myself. Ghost, really?
The Super Bowl
I always root for the underdog and this instance was no different. I know many people wanted to see the patriots make history. The way I see it, they still did. It just wasn’t the version they wanted. But isn’t that the case with all history? It never really turns out the way you planned.
Watching the game made me think of Miracle with Kurt Douglass. A movie about the head coach of the 1980 American hockey team that won gold at the winter Olympics. I kept visualizing the scene in the locker room before the big game
Great moments are born from great opportunity. And that’s what you have here tonight, boys. That’s what you’ve earned here tonight. One game.
If we played them ten times, they might win nine. But not this game. Not tonight.
I was still bummed about last night. I wasn’t sure if I was tired, sick or just going thru my man period.
I had to go to work but just couldn’t get motivated.
So instead of going to work I decided to hang out with Amy. I was a bit worried I wouldn’t have the energy to deal with her since she has a tendency to be feisty.
Oddly enough she was really nice to me and cheered me up. She really got me out my funk. All night I got to see this softer side of her personality. I’ve seen it before but only in short spurts.
I’m still stunned someone complimented me on my blog yesterday. Maybe I’m not such a bad writer after all. I know I still have a ways to go but this is a sign of improvement and a great motivator.
It actually motivated me to write a little funny invite for happy hour that some people got a kick out of.
Top 5 Reasons You Should Go
5) It’s cold outside and booze will keep you nice and warm on the walk home
4) You can make new friends
3) Know everyone already? Strengthen those bonds of friendship.
2) You hate people in general but especially those you work with? Come drown your sorrows.
1) You need your alcohol fix.
Not the funniest thing in the world but cute.
Went to Gallery Bar with T and Al and had a strange time. I love their company and the photo booth in the back is worth the trip. But where it took a turn for the worse was when I attempted to pick up this hot girl.
She was with two other friends, which would immediately discourage most men. Luckily I’m confident and no stranger to picking up a 3 set.
Thirty minutes later and a shit load of small talk got me a cute girl with lots of style but I wanted the hot one. I cut my losses and went back to T and Al.
Sadly all the confidence and experience in the world isn’t going to help you once a group of girls divie you up. I wonder how many missed opportunities at love have occurred when girls and even guys do this stupid shit. I think it should all be organic not like some fucked up election.
I can’t shake this bummed out feeling. She was really hot.
PS For the record they were all single and the hot one did like me.
Today I went to a creative offsite at Carolines Comedy Club, saw Vanessa Carlton play live, attended a happy hour/industry party, went on a first date and dropped by a friend’s birthday party. Not to shabby for a Thursday.
Highlights
The look on Robbie’s face when Pegi replied to my “I’m bored entertain me” txt.
The “band leader” feeling I got when I gather a group of co-workers to attend this industry party
Getting a compliment on my blog.
I’m embracing the fact I’m a social butterfly. I’ve always been this way but somehow I forgot that when I was with my ex-wife. And now I’m starting to get it back. I think I might have mentioned it in a previous post but if I didn’t I’m sure I spoke with a friend about it.
I got invited to another Sony BMG Latin record release party and these events are always a mixed bag for me. Free booze, good music and tons of eye candy always make me happy. But at the same time I’m reminded of how “non-Hispanic” I am.
Not getting into too much detail the same thing happens every party. I hit the bar, get a drink and start up conversation with the closest woman. Normal right? Wrong! Here’s where it falls apart. Most, if not all the women at these parties are Hispanic and as soon as I open my mouth they get confused.
I don’t look like your typical Hispanic. Yes of course they’re those that realize I am Ecuadorian. But those are few and far between.
Not to sound fucked up but I don’t sound Hispanic. I don’t have an accent; I have a vocabulary larger than most of them and my speech patterns are different.
I don’t dress like most Salsa, Bachata, Merengue and Reggaeton fans. I have my own style that ranges from skate boarder dude to Banana Republic preppie.
For a while I’ve joked that Hispanic girls hate me but I’ve realized that it isn’t that they hate me. It has more to do with social dynamics on a small scale.
Society loves to romanticize the idea that opposites attract but for the most part that’s bullshit. We tend to seek out people of similar tastes, interests, appearance and mannerisms.
To these Hispanic girls I am a total question mark. A riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma. I don’t look, speak or dress like anyone they know. And within seconds all attraction they might have had goes out the window. This isn’t to say I can’t hold a conversation but it’s clear it has no future other than friendship.
So where am I going with all this? Nowhere! It’s just a rant and a realization that they don’t hate me they just don’t understand “me.” The only reason it irks me is cause I am Hispanic.
I got home after work and was really looking forward to watching Paprika but my 360 died. I’ve had this happen to me three times and each time it has been for different reasons. The first was a disc drive issue. The second is still a mystery and now I’ve finally have gotten the dreaded red ring of death.
Normally I would be going ape shit but I have my shiny new PS3. I would also like to add that I got my 360 for free.
Many of my friends always ask me which is the best system and my answer is the 360. That being said the PS3 is starting to win me over. In no way am I saying its better (it isn’t) but it does have its strengths and one of those is Blu-ray. I never believed the hype but I popped in Bladerunner Final Cut on Blu-ray and then the DVD version to compare them. I was floored.
It was like the first time you saw a DVD and compared it to VHS, mind blowing. The clarity was nuts. On top of that this is a re-mastered old movie. I can’t wait to see a modern movie or a Pixar movie that is all digital.
So I didn’t have any work today and I am starting to get a bit worried about my job. On top of that I spoke to my ex-wife and she informed me she got a full time gig at Microsoft making mad bank. I’m really happy for her and deep down I know she deserves to be making even more.
That being said I’m pissed. I had to listen to her bitch and moan when we were married about her “lack of talent.” I had to hear how envious she was of my job (it was her dream). I swear, had she had the fucking courage to do something about it when we were married instead of complain, we would still be married. The cherry on top of this nightmare sundae is her recent decision to wait till she is 35 to have kids.
UNFUCKING REAL.
Now I’m not upset that she is happy or making bank I am pissed that I had to deal with that shit and how amazingly easy her life has been. I’ve come to realize that I’m really unlucky. I think I have the best parents in the world but aside from that I’ve been getting fucked in the ass by fate from day one.
I know I sound bitter and filled with rage and I am. But the difference is I won’t allow it to consume me and make me bitter. I just need to keep moving.
I am not sure if she will read this entry but if she is, CONGRATUALTIONS
Breaking News: My ex-wife wrote, “I loved you so much I didn’t concentrate on myself. I will never love anyone as much as you”. That’s sweet but I wish she would have loved me less.
I met Amy at the Whitney and we took in two exhibits:
Kara Walker: My Complement, My Enemy, My Oppressor, My Love
The work was provactive but the subject matter, a commentary on race, felt a bit stale.
&
Lawrence Weiner: AS FAR AS THE EYE CAN SEE
I enjoyed this exhibit but only after thinking long and hard. It hurt my head but I feel I exercised my mind and came away enriched. I think most people wouldn’t even consider his work “art” but it challenged me and isn’t that what art is suppose to do?
I’ve always wanted to try a party bus and thanks to Robbie I got my chance. It wasn’t what I expected but it still turned out great. I got banged up on beer and listened to these two guys on the bus belt out original tunes. My fav was beers and boobs, boobs and beers.
