back to school, part 2

i already wrote about tomorrow (below), but i want to write about today.

today i understood loneliness. it is my bottom line, my theme. today i became it when i was one of the children i work with. i was there to learn, i was needy and shy and i realized it is the sentiment i have battled with always.

i've been thinking about it since i got home, and i felt the weight of being lost, of having been lost. of feeling invisible, of feeling unrecognizable. of having no coach to watch out for my interests, to challenge my expectations of myself.
that's it. it's a-ha. it's everything.

then i remembered my last day in puerto rico, when someone thought of me enough to make a gift. a non-verbal "i'll miss you, you are important." not because of the gift itself, but because of what it meant (and what it said), i am changed tonight.
it's hopeful, and it's great. regardless of my daily silence in this little cave, i'm surrounded.

why yes, yes they are.

i begin school full-time tomorrow. 9-7 day. it's gonna be awesome.

someone is cooking fish on my floor. it smells so bad that i considered spending the evening sitting in the lobby of my building with my security blanket and pup.

i just ate an entire Toblerone bar. i usually hate chocolate.

i miss my friend who moved away.
i miss PR. i miss my people.

i am in love with Chloe Sevigny.

my boss called me brilliant today. that's probably even more amazing than the "you're hot" text i got from The Monster last month. well, maybe not.

incomunicado

dear slut(s) who read(s) my blog,

you got the mass email, i presume, but basically my phone is dead. if you need to send me a text about a celebrity sighting, or how much you need to come over, you cannot. i am living solely by the grace of my computer, which made me think.
in honor of the death of my phone, i decided to take a vow of silence until the day my new phone comes in the mail, excluding time spent in school and at the hospital.
i will shop online. i will do online banking, and "chatting" that doesn't break my vow. i shall even attempt to have sex on the internet. wish me luck.

live on, Nietzsche, live on.

love,
your main ho.

fishbowl wisdom, part 1

not long ago, on this very day, Martin Luther King delivered the "i have a dream" speech. decades later, Katrina was striking the US. today, have things really changed?

we have fought so many battles and yet discovered/created a slew of others to make things appear (actually be?) worse than ever.

when will be stop hatred?
when will we conquer disease and take care of our planet?
when are we going to wake up?

i guess i dream that we were not all so passive, so indifferent. it IS our problem.

forgive me father

i am obsessed with Beverly Hills, 90210.

let me state that i watched it religiously when it was first airing (yes, i was 11).
but now. now it's just more delicious.

no commercials.
no waiting till next week.

yes to the Noxema girl dying (i cried...again).
yes to kelly joining a cult, being burned in a fire, becoming a cokehead for a day, getting shot, doing Dylan.
yes to the Brenda years.
yes to Emily Valentine.
yes to Donna getting beat up.
YES to Donna FINALLY having sex!!!!

and HELL YES to valerie. rawr.

notes on arrival

my apartment smells like rotten dog ass. i understand that it has been closed off for about a month, but this stench is almost unbearable.
my fridge had all sorts of spoiled food, one of which had spurted what looked like a fungal replica of Stewie's head.

i mis Puerto Rico, i didn't really want to leave (riDONKulous), but routines and school were beconing me. off to work today i go, with final prep for the new school year waiting in the wings.

but first, this smell! this goddamn smell.

countdown to triumphant return home

i leave in less than a week. here's what i've learned:
1. my family thinks i'm a pothead alcoholic.
2. my hair is as adaptable to change as i am - not very.
3. oprah reigns free in my mind.
4. i CAN complete a sentence without a single English word in it. i actually started to type out this entry in Spanish, till i realized where i was writing it. this, my friends, is the biggest triumph of all.
5. there is a monkey that resides 16 stories below my bedroom window. as much as i was planning my move to the jungle, this asshole down there DOES NOT let me sleep.
6. coming here made me forget about that lovely reencounter i had with my past on the single night i spent in new york between TX and PR.
7. game matters.
8. so does love and friendship.
9. PR breeds cheeseballs. did you just read my last sentence? jesus.
10. back to New York, where my "ridiculous hostility and sarcasm" (thanks, bro) is perfectly acceptable, and away from PR, where my "incessant gesturing and yelling" (thanks, ex) are the status quo.

The Best Day Ever. By Cristina

wake up at 9. crawl out of bed, drag self to car, pick up friends, end up at the beach.

spend all day drunk in the water. eat empanadas people are selling in the sand. reminisce.

drive to Old San Juan. stuff face with plantains, rice, beans, bistec and flan. coffee.

drive friend home. see old hot friend. still hot.

drive home. get in pool. reminisce. shower.

supermarket for Culebra supplies. pick up Kool-Aid for jorgito and Finlandia for mom.

drive to a certain beautiful friend's house. reminisce.

movies. popcorn. diet coke.

get lost on the way home. saved by friends. almost end up at the airport.

home. restless, rummage. find old pictures. reminisce.

[edited for content]

paranoia break. cat power. some texting. some "can't move"-ing.
remember have not eaten since 3.
tiptoe to the kitchen
scavenger
dig
brie.

blog.
smile
laugh
blog.
call. bye.

mi super ex-novia

it's very confusing, this having two homes thing. i'm here, i'm at home, but i miss my home. so while i'm trying to enjoy my family here, i miss my family there. i miss walking a few miles every day without even noticing. i miss being in my own apartment, with privacy, and a dog on my lap, and DVR and the fishbowl. i miss my bed and i miss my friends. i miss not being the one in exile. i miss fish bar and my coffee maker and whole foods. fucking whole foods, i love you so.

but i'm here. and it's warm but not crippling. and it's breezy. and i get to drive and drive and see nothing but green. and i have Medalla. and meat everyday (twice a day) without anyone thinking that's weird. and PR politics and La Comay and subtitles at the movies. i have old friends who are fiercely loyal, the most loyal people i've ever known. i have the wonders of discovering how much Puerto Rico has changed in 7 years, while really just staying the same.

i hate being the one who has to be here, not for vacation, but for giving. i have to be here because i don't want to be here. it's been years and years since i've visited my family for this long. at the end of my trip, i will have been away from new york for over a month.

at least i'm not still in Texas.

medalla light: the drink of the gods

because I have been on the road for a couple of weeks, and may have a few more weeks to go, I have been living on three things:
1. Paul Auster
2. Medalla Light beer
3. rice

on #1: After reading a bunch of Paul Auster's novels, I decided to purchase an anthology that contains his prose. It includes 2 of his autobiografies, a few critical essays, thoughts on current events, and an analysis of why New York = USA, among a bunch of other things.
reading this entire collection in 3 days taught me one thing: I love Paul Auster because his life, while on the surface completely different from mine, contains every single theme i have ever grappled with in my own life. his pain permeates to his fiction, and once you read what his life has been like, suddenly you get it.
Auster has changed my mind about everything.

on #2: Medalla is a beer i have never encountered anywhere outside of Puerto Rico. it is light, watery, and kinda tastes like pee. however, on a beautiful warm day, perhaps after the beach (or in it, whatever), there is nothing better than sitting with your old friends and reminiscing over an ice-cold Medalla (comically known by locals as "Metralla," a word that is not a compliment). it reminds me of sneaking my first sip of beer (Schaeffer) when I was about 8. it reminds me of high school and beach days and better times. it reminds me of home. plus i bet no one has ever romanticized Medalla as much as my friends and i have this week.

on #3: my love affair with rice is very similar to how a person feels when they travel with their own pillow. rice is home. rice is family. rice is what makes me a stereotype and what reminds me of the days when my mother and father had their health and happiness. my house was always full of people waiting for my mom's world-famous rice and beans. i stood by waiting for the steak. bloody rice and rare beef, that's my thing.

different

between last night and today i have experienced my two worst petty nightmares. i shall speak of one.

i got caught in an elevator, by myself, today.
it was 90 degrees, the elevator freefell for about a second right before i got stuck, and i had to be lifted out by "john" because i was between floors.

i have always thought that getting stuck in an elevator would send me to new levels of panic.
i was wrong.

well, i mean, i panicked for a second, and felt the oppressive heat close around my throat.
however.
i was listening to Biggie at the time, and decided it would be best if i put on the Dalai Lama.
so i did and i made it out just fine.

last night, though. that's a whole other story.