I have no idea how this title connects to my next rant other than I was sitting here thinking, hey I wanna write something- but im not sure what. Then BOOM! an image of solid terrecotta underwear (imagine stone tighty whities) flashes before my eyes. so vwalla! a post title is born.
I'm in the middle of remodeling a home, just finished putting in hard wood flooring, and color design concepts. Last week I completed my work as a design consultant on a Masonic lodge in Los Angeles. Pictures will be posted shortly...I'm like Bob the builder only much taller with long hair and earnings. like a bohemian Bob the builder, or like a construction pirate of sorts.
Going home now to my little rustic sanctuary in West LA to drink a protein shake and spend the rest of this week in the gym working off my new pregnancy.
Monday, December 27, 2010
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Joaquin Pheonix
Watch "Im still here"
Joaquin is undeniably brilliant and arguably one of the most ballsy and inventive artists that we have the pleasure of taking for granted until he dies and we hail him as the genius we've always understood and loved...
Joaquin is undeniably brilliant and arguably one of the most ballsy and inventive artists that we have the pleasure of taking for granted until he dies and we hail him as the genius we've always understood and loved...
Too much pizza.
WOW, I dont think I've ever eaten more like a pig than I have over this weekend. (by the way, do pigs eat a lot? I never quite understood what I was saying when using the common adage "ate like a pig." I've seen pigs before , but didn't notice any eating habits you'd find on Celebrity Fat Camp.) Back to my orginial thought, I ate two boxes of pizza, rump roast, potatoes, peas, and many other carb heavy wonders. Although Ive eaten the equivilent of a small elephant, I must say, I still look good. ;)
Im going to the gym for six hours tomorrow. dont judge.
Last week I lost the master key to my new vespa. it sucked cuz I had to have a guy from the dealership drive over to my my house, charge me $85 dollars, and show me how easy a piece of thin wire can not only open the saddle (where my spare key was enjoying the irony similar to puting the code to your safe inside, locking it and smashing your head against the wall. Forgetting you ever new it to begin with.) but also how to start the damn thing with a screwdriver. Couldnt tell me that over the phone huh? guess not. merry christmas douche.
I really like comments on blogs...
Im going to the gym for six hours tomorrow. dont judge.
Last week I lost the master key to my new vespa. it sucked cuz I had to have a guy from the dealership drive over to my my house, charge me $85 dollars, and show me how easy a piece of thin wire can not only open the saddle (where my spare key was enjoying the irony similar to puting the code to your safe inside, locking it and smashing your head against the wall. Forgetting you ever new it to begin with.) but also how to start the damn thing with a screwdriver. Couldnt tell me that over the phone huh? guess not. merry christmas douche.
I really like comments on blogs...
Christmas/12:10 am (technially not xmas anymore)
About 7 1/2 minutes ago, I was sitting on the bathroom floor at my girlfriends parentals.
"What are we gonna do for New years/your birthday?"
I didn't realize how much I unconsciously avoid and hate this question. Reason 1) I tend to feel sad on my birthday because I feel like it takes the backseat to New Years. (I know this is a very ego filled perspective, but nonetheless effects me at times.) Reason 2) ----
fuck it, I don't feel like talking about this anymore...
Basically what just happened was, Eileen said I should get out of my head, and that it helps her when she puts things on paper. I figured since I haven't written anything on this blog since my proclamation of allegiance to bloggerdom, I figured I'd give it a whirl. Once I started reading the self depricating nonsense that spewed out of my finger tips, I decided to hop off that train for fear that my blog would sound like the sad rantings of a kid with low self esteem... so to salvage my pride and mask my insecurities, I'll crack open a can of refreshing ice cold self delusion and change the subject...
I'm growing a beard..Makes me feel more masculine, but also teeters on looking slightly terroristy, given my dark complexion and bushy brows. Gotta keep it clean and trimmed to counter the Osama effect. Its actually almost a full time job. If you don't believe me, ask my mom. I was born with a full Sadaam mustache and had a Fidel Castro by the time I turned three.. seriously. I'm like a facial landscape artist in need of an 87' Toyota pickup to house my face mower.
hmm, what else to say...It seems I really like the triple period thing, I do it a lot... I also say "I" a lot...(there they are again...) I guess I'm way more narcissistic than I I Imagined. So what, aren't we all? I say embrace It(...) CapItalIze your I's and and embrace your "I"ness.
I'm over this for now... feeling better though. Havent quite found my comfort with the whole blog thing, but it is only blog number two...(hehe, I really cant help doing the "..." thing ;)
til' the next rant!
"What are we gonna do for New years/your birthday?"
I didn't realize how much I unconsciously avoid and hate this question. Reason 1) I tend to feel sad on my birthday because I feel like it takes the backseat to New Years. (I know this is a very ego filled perspective, but nonetheless effects me at times.) Reason 2) ----
fuck it, I don't feel like talking about this anymore...
Basically what just happened was, Eileen said I should get out of my head, and that it helps her when she puts things on paper. I figured since I haven't written anything on this blog since my proclamation of allegiance to bloggerdom, I figured I'd give it a whirl. Once I started reading the self depricating nonsense that spewed out of my finger tips, I decided to hop off that train for fear that my blog would sound like the sad rantings of a kid with low self esteem... so to salvage my pride and mask my insecurities, I'll crack open a can of refreshing ice cold self delusion and change the subject...
I'm growing a beard..Makes me feel more masculine, but also teeters on looking slightly terroristy, given my dark complexion and bushy brows. Gotta keep it clean and trimmed to counter the Osama effect. Its actually almost a full time job. If you don't believe me, ask my mom. I was born with a full Sadaam mustache and had a Fidel Castro by the time I turned three.. seriously. I'm like a facial landscape artist in need of an 87' Toyota pickup to house my face mower.
hmm, what else to say...It seems I really like the triple period thing, I do it a lot... I also say "I" a lot...(there they are again...) I guess I'm way more narcissistic than I I Imagined. So what, aren't we all? I say embrace It(...) CapItalIze your I's and and embrace your "I"ness.
I'm over this for now... feeling better though. Havent quite found my comfort with the whole blog thing, but it is only blog number two...(hehe, I really cant help doing the "..." thing ;)
til' the next rant!
Friday, September 17, 2010
The Canvas is Ready
Its 10:01 am. I'm "supposed" to be at school now studying the makeup practices of the 1920's and 30's...I am on my couch with a brown fleece blanket on my head.
My girlfriend and queen of my imaginary kingdom has been trying to coax me into taking up a blog. This is my very first blog entry...(what the hell is a "blog"? it sounds like some kind of fat green space alien, probably related to jaba the hut.)
Eileen, (girlfriend/queen) and I have been having a rough time communicating lately, being totally honest can be really hard. I guess thats why we lie. Sometimes to our partners and friends but more often, to ourselves. I lie a lot. Not to be mean or vindictive, mostly because I'm scared. I'm afraid of looking foolish, scared of not actually being who I think I "should" be, sometimes I trick myself into believing if I lie to myself long enough, maybe it will come true. Lying sucks... I'm going to use this blog to help free me from these shadowy shackles.
This blog (fat green alien) is about my truth. This will be my digital sanctuary of inner peace and outer honesty. I will reveal my internal workings here on this page as an experiment. Hopefully, by engaging in candid monologue, I will find harmony and finally be able to accept myself for who I am. In turn, being able to make real friends.
TRUTH # 1
I'm lonely. I never really had to many friends in my life. I get along with people well, but because Im afraid to like myself for who I really am, I don't let people in.
TRUTH # 2
I have Tourettes Syndrome. (I've been embarrassed to share this openly because it makes me feel weird. As I get older, I realize everyones a little odd, so maybe it'll make me more relatable if people know I cant help but twitch my face when i get nervous. its actually kind of funny now that i think about it. Maybe I look like a bunny, bunnies are cute...
TRUTH # 3
I lied to my school today. I said I have an appointment and will be running late. I don't, ask the brown fleece on my head... They have a strict attendance policy and I didn't think that needing to express myself emotionally on a blog was excusable by school guidelines. so I lied, am I proud of it? I don't really give a shit. but it feels good to be honest about it here.
TRUTH # 4
Im insecure about writing because I have no formal training whatsoever, outside of a night school class I took. I was the youngest student there, the second youngest was 63, the oldest was almost 90. I hated that class. Eileen joined me for the last few weeks I attended, and the slightly sleazy yet kind of charming old man teacher constantly ogled my girlfriend, hinting that we (focused at her), should take his tango lessons. I wanted to poke his eyes.
My girlfriend and queen of my imaginary kingdom has been trying to coax me into taking up a blog. This is my very first blog entry...(what the hell is a "blog"? it sounds like some kind of fat green space alien, probably related to jaba the hut.)
Eileen, (girlfriend/queen) and I have been having a rough time communicating lately, being totally honest can be really hard. I guess thats why we lie. Sometimes to our partners and friends but more often, to ourselves. I lie a lot. Not to be mean or vindictive, mostly because I'm scared. I'm afraid of looking foolish, scared of not actually being who I think I "should" be, sometimes I trick myself into believing if I lie to myself long enough, maybe it will come true. Lying sucks... I'm going to use this blog to help free me from these shadowy shackles.
This blog (fat green alien) is about my truth. This will be my digital sanctuary of inner peace and outer honesty. I will reveal my internal workings here on this page as an experiment. Hopefully, by engaging in candid monologue, I will find harmony and finally be able to accept myself for who I am. In turn, being able to make real friends.
TRUTH # 1
I'm lonely. I never really had to many friends in my life. I get along with people well, but because Im afraid to like myself for who I really am, I don't let people in.
TRUTH # 2
I have Tourettes Syndrome. (I've been embarrassed to share this openly because it makes me feel weird. As I get older, I realize everyones a little odd, so maybe it'll make me more relatable if people know I cant help but twitch my face when i get nervous. its actually kind of funny now that i think about it. Maybe I look like a bunny, bunnies are cute...
TRUTH # 3
I lied to my school today. I said I have an appointment and will be running late. I don't, ask the brown fleece on my head... They have a strict attendance policy and I didn't think that needing to express myself emotionally on a blog was excusable by school guidelines. so I lied, am I proud of it? I don't really give a shit. but it feels good to be honest about it here.
TRUTH # 4
Im insecure about writing because I have no formal training whatsoever, outside of a night school class I took. I was the youngest student there, the second youngest was 63, the oldest was almost 90. I hated that class. Eileen joined me for the last few weeks I attended, and the slightly sleazy yet kind of charming old man teacher constantly ogled my girlfriend, hinting that we (focused at her), should take his tango lessons. I wanted to poke his eyes.
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