east beach

camera phone quality pictures taken this weekend. i don't know what to apologize for more, the clutter of this blog entry or isaiah's face. you decide!

if you're going to san francisco...

an entry in my uncle's rolodex. presumably the number for san francisco, california.

do you believe in magic?

in a young girl's heart?

the best time of day

she's terse. 'can you get it?'

'i've already, yeah... i've got, should i just come over there or, my housekeeper is here today is the thing and my step dad will be home soon.'

silence. then, 'the front door is unlocked. come into joe's room.'

joe is bunny's dad. he sort of looks like alex trebek, but mexican and with a cowboy hat. joe's room is the size of my parent's living room. all the walls are floor-to-ceiling mirrors and he has wall-to-wall white carpet which is mostly pristine except for one spot where bunny's dog "guero" once took a shit and the stain never came out. joe doesn't let guero in his room anymore.

i've known bunny since freshman year. she was the only girl to approach me on my first day at st. augustine and even though i personally would probably have never sought her out for a friend, she's somebody and somebody is better than nobody.

when i walk into bunny's house, i hear music coming from joe's room.

Is she fine? So well bred/The perfect girl, a social deb.

when i walk into joe's room, bunny is sitting indian style on the carpet in front of joe's glass coffee table, fiddling with her gold playboy bunny pendant necklace, chewing on the chain. she offers me a sip of soda from a faded jumbo Fiesta Texas cup.

'so, let's see it. how'd you get it this time? you found more jewelry?'

'no, i gave him my mom's video camera for collateral.'

i pull the plastic bag out of my bra. 'oh how cute! it's hearts this time,' bunny remarks.

bunny tells me about a party that night, but it's saturday and i have catechism classes tomorrow morning. anyway, last time i went to a party with bunny, she left me in the backseat of a car with this guy who kept feeding me curly fries and trying to touch my breasts while she disappeared for three hours.

when it's all gone, bunny gets up and says she's going to take a shower. i sit in joe's room alone for twenty or thirty minutes, maybe longer, i don't know. the clouds pass over and joe's room darkens for a brief moment. i start thinking about this poem i read once in english class. "but i do love these summer nights/even more, i think/than those other times/the work finished for the day/and no one who can reach us now/or ever."

i decide not to wait for bunny and walk home in the last five minutes of daylight before the whole neighborhood turns dark.

double feature

i watched a video of sixteen year old you. i immediately recognized your arms, your stubby fingers, your squint. you were obviously aware of the camera on you. you did that fake yawn/stretch you always did when you were uncomfortable or nervous in an attempt to feign boredom.


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i went with my coworker, ruthy, to an indian beauty salon. she got her eyebrows threaded, a strange technique where a piece of string is pressed against the brow with enough pressure to pop a hair out by the root. "it grows in slower, and less thick," she explained to me. "it's an ancient tradition," the lady who was performing the threading on my friend told me. i casually thumbed through Self magazine and watched the other technicians, for lack of a better word, discuss amongst themselves whether to get subway or burger king for lunch.

a quagmire

i've thought about driving my car into a lightpole or a frontage road column but my only fear is that i'll somehow fuck it up and instead of killing myself just end up ruining city property and owing them money, which i can't afford.

on our way to fall

sometimes when i'm alone driving and a particularly poignant song comes on, i'll profess at the top of my lungs my undying love for you, you undeserving bastard.

baptism

when my youngest brother diego turned 11, it was decided that he would be baptized. i had been baptized when i was 3, my other brother louie when he was 4, and it seemed that diego would be spared because he had lived through his single digit birthdays without incident. my mother had gone through a period of dubiety where she stopped believing in god; my guess is she didn't trust or understand a god who would allow her daughter to be a promiscuous pothead when she paid several thousand a year in tuition for a good catholic education. on the morning of his baptism, diego decided to shave for the first time. inexperienced as he was, he dragged the razor horizontally across his upper lip and nicked himself. he said when they sprinkled the holy water across his face, it burned.

vivetta autumn/winter 2009 collection

naturally, this designer isn't sold at any US retailer and is so ungodly pricey. LOVE the cat face pockets!

claudia cardinale

so pretty

isaiah-isms

"that's filth!"
"what? that's bullshit!"
"shhhteady..."
"could this be?"
"orale, bebe"
"i can't say no"
"how dare you!"
"I FUCCIN' NEED IT!"
"NOW WHAT?"
"THIS SUCKS!"
"YOU MEAN IT?"
"you stupid bitch!"
"puhhLEEEEASE!"
"I MEAN..."
"waitaminute..."

i'll add more as they come to me