So I’m in the middle of a hectic crunch right now. I haven’t had many breaks in between running around and running around some more. Just today my schedule overlap involved building a gay pride parade float with the boys from Charlies. Meeting up with the boys from my Restoration Comedy class to rehearse for a presentation that we couldn’t do because of a no show. And then me having to plead with my professor to let me leave early so I could make my door shift at work tonight.
When I finally got to check our of class I walked out into one of those typical, empty college hallways which seem to echo with memories of students past. From one of the rooms a few class’s down from mine came a drum beat that sent my hips into a frenzy. As I passed I could see that the room was full of ridiculously good looking young people kinda dancing to the beat. Chillin. I almost kept walking but my curiosity got the best of me and I basically waltzed in there and asked what was going on.
They told me that they were practicing modeling moves. And the first thing that came out of my mouth was “Oh yeah? I’m a model!” I don’t know why.
On one side of the room stood the guys. These dudes were handsome and fit and each one had a swagger all his own.On the other side were the girls, ever enchanting and beautiful and one of them in particular rocked some power heels that would loosen your knees. Without hesitation they asked me to join. And I said I didn’t have time. That I had to get to work. That I was already running late. But I joined anyway.
And like nothing I found myself at the front of a Soul Train line (man I loved that show when I was a kid) and this guy and this girl meet in the middle and strutted all the way down the line and man they looked spiffy. The guy’s eyes were like two bright cicadas on a caramel face. And then it’s my turn and they say show us what you got. So I did my little thing on the cat walk. And then I said I really had to go.
The girl in charge introduced herself as Tierra and with a coy smile said “What? We thought you were serious. Whay about being a model?”
At that moment I came clean and admitted that I just couldn’t walk by without at least knowing what was going on.
As it turns out the group is putting on a fashion show and they’d been practicing in that room for the last few weeks and would be for a few more. I thought cool. And I got to be a part of it for all of a few minutes.
And then I left. And now I’m on my way to work. And these are the moments that remind me that my life is some kind of fabulous.
A sensationally awkward experience.
Thanks in advance for refraining from telling me not to get it twisted until after you have finished at least attempting to formulate a complete and coherent statement.
I just turned in an assignment online. Within the two minute window I allotted myself to upload the paper, a woman sitting next to me enquired about how to print the paper she was working on and one of my customers from the bar spotted me and stopped to talk for a sec. I obliged both and still got the paper in with the appropriate time stamp. Now I didn’t have time to proof read it. It was a little shy of the page limit. I forgot to include the works cited and page numbers. And even though I read the text and formulated some coherent arguments, I could smell while I was writing it, the subtly familiar scent of bovine excrement.
Some alternate universe version of me would have forfeited any grade at all at the prospect of turning in such slop. But me… today… I’m just glad I mustered something up on time.
I think we’re making progress Dr. Wong.
Sometimes I think I make too many bulimia jokes.
November 15, 2005
You know, it is hard for me to sit at the computer and type. Last minute essays are one thing, but if I am to communicate emotion I have to bleed it black or blue on paper, in a journal or on a napkin. That might attest for why I have never posted a blog. But these days or nights, I am running out of things to entertain myself with in my little room besides eating, sleeping and masturbating. So I thought I might bleed a blog and see where it takes me: false sense of accomplishment? Regret? Indifference? Late night munchies? Well here goes. For everyone who doesn’t already know this or hasn’t somehow become an unfortunate byproduct of it, it’s time for me to come out with it. Lately I’ve been spending most of my time with someone I used to know a long time ago. When he first came back into my life I was excited at the prospect of getting to know him all over again, but the more time we spent together the more I started to question wether I ever liked him much in the first place. I mean he’s a nice guy, a little self-absorbed and neurotic, but he’s aware of it and usually checks himself before someone else has to. Its just that he’s changed since last I knew him. He used to be a little shy and secretly hungered for social interaction, these days it seems that he’s overly confident and doesn’t care much to get to know anyone new. It’s a wonder he even opens up to me. All we ever do is sit and talk, go for long walks around the city and talk, ride Muni and talk, talk, talk, talk, talk, talk. And well, sometimes when noone is around he lets me cry on his shoulder, just a little. Our reunion has been short and I still don’t know how I feel about him. He no longer excites me but I don’t hate him either. He, much like me, is just there. But what worries me about him is how I have seen him interact with others. He will befriend them, put them on a pedestal and than kick it out from under them and all the while claim innocence. He has a lot of love to give but can’t seem to give it with out throwing some hurt in there too. The worst I’ve heard anyone say of him is that he’s vindictive, manipulative and that he plays games. That’s pretty shitty but with his track record sometimes I wonder if its true. But as someone who has been both his friend and enemy I have to say he means well. His name is Dugaldo Estrada and I can only hope spending so much time alone with him will do us both some good and be worth the sacrifices I’ve made for him.
I have less than an hour on this fine Sunday to play on word press. The goal is to try to get my Blog virgin page up and running before I skedaddle off to work. Oh work. I love it I do. But do you ever feel like your most creative moments, the brainstorm bests, seem to go off right when you’re on the clock. Not that I can’t channel that energy into drinks and good customer convo. I just feel like my blog gets less of that action by the time I’m off.
Anyway I’m trying for a quickie here so let’s get this thing going. Blog virgin is exactly what it sounds like. A platform for first time bloggers to knock themselves out. It’s been a long time since I was a virgin but I decided that since this is my blog I should be the first to go. This involves delving into the past. To a late night in San Francisco. To a little blue room in a big pink house in the Sunset district. To the forlorn musings of a then 24 year old me. And to a social network phenomenon that lent it self to that creative release. That’s right. I’m talking about MySpace baby.
This feels a little bit like looking at chubby pictures of myself.