This is a test to see wheter you can tell the difference between Chinese, Japenese, and Koreans. I tell you this test lies. We all know I know my Asians. Is my pass going to be revoked? Do I have to stop showing my yearbook picture of me being in the Chinese-Vietnamese Club? Are they not going to buy dinner for me anymore to show me their love? Am I to be pelted with chopsticks next time I refer to them as "you effin' immigrant motherbitches"? Does this mean no more free Baskin Robbins? Have I lost my priviliges for all time? This test is obviously biased because they don't have Filipino's or Vietnamese. See I smell something fishy. Now give a food, audio, and writing test and i'll bet you i will pass! (Actually the real issue is not being able to tell two people apart not categorizing.But this blog is free from racial rants thank you very much.)
Sunday, March 24, 2002 :::
Welcome to Atlanta II ( i never got around to posting this a month ago and i didn't really proof it)
After a night of movies and salsa dancing. Mr. G receives a telephone call from a friend. The friend explains that he has been taken to a police station because his license is suspended and the police will not let him drive his car home. G mentions to us the situation and asks if we are down for the road trip to Savannah. There is only one glitch; someone has to drive his friend's car back. Let's see can the graffiti artist do it? Nope he lost his glasses at Mardi gras. Can the dreaded one do it? No he does not have a license. So all eyes turn to me. Now I have been drinking and I am on vacation. I ponder this all in my mind but I thought, "Sure why not? I would like to see more of Georgia." So I agree and the other boys agree to go along for the ride. So G gets the directions and the police officer on the phone and then he asks how long do you think it will take use to get there. Answer: 3-4 hours. For some reason we are all extra hyped for the ride and we still agree to go.
After about 45 minutes of driving G decides that he can’t drive that far. He has driven all day and has been up for almost 16 hours at this point. We all say fuck it and decide that dude will just have to wait. We planned to go back to Atlanta to sleep some and then we could make the trip in the morning. So we get off the highway to turn around and I try my best to continue to talk to him to keep him awake. I’m so delirious I almost resort to flirting as a way to have something to talk about. After about another 30 minutes G figures out that we never turned around we are actually still going south towards Savannah. So after a while G decides that he just can’t drive anymore because it’s too quiet in the car and he is falling asleep. We pull on the side of the road for a nap. Immediately the jokes start to come. We are all cracking serious jokes and G really wants to sleep but we can’t seem to keep quiet. So we get back on the road again since everyone is alive and awake. As soon as we start driving everyone gets really quiet so G decides to pull over again. Then we all start cracking jokes again. G is so pissed because he either wants us to shut up so he can take a nap or to make a lot of noise while he is driving. So finally we stop to take the nap and everyone is quiet. They sleep for a while but I never really go to sleep. It’s hella cold and I can’t seem to get comfortable. To top it all off I have to use the restroom again. I’ve been been drinking water the entire time. So after about another hour I decided that I just have to wake the boys up. So we get back on the road. I’m so ready to just piss all over myself. There doesn’t seem to be restroom around. Finally I decided that I’ll just have to pull over. Luckily we see the sign for the rest stop. He pulls up and I bolt out of the car. When I get back to the car the boys are cracking up. They claim that I was holding my ass as I was running. I don’t think so.
Finally we reach our destination to pick up Kwanzaa. Yes his name is Kwanzaa well actually Wakwanzaa. Now doesn’t look like he should. Well he goes by the name of a made up holiday so my mind automatically envisions a dashiki. Well he has one of sorts or what black males tend to wear these days. Jeans, sweatshirt, and Bantu knots. Typical looking black male but I can’t get over the fact that his name is Kwanzaa. He gets into the car and we drive him back to his car. His car is still at the gas station. We drive up and we see a burgundy car. Now looking at it from the outside you could swear the car has been through many adventures in it’s day. The hood is not tightly secured and the windshield is very cracked. At this point I was so tired I wasn’t really paying attention to Kwanzaa or his car. So we get in the car for the ride and Kwanzaa begins his brief. “There are few tricks to this car. The gas gauge doesn’t works so I just filled it up so we should be straight. Also the speedometer doesn’t work either but the rpm gauge works so we will go by that. So if we stayed between 25 and 30 RPM’s then we should be doing between 70 and 80.” This brief wasn’t very pleasing to me but I really didn’t care I just wanted to go home. I had know idea what we were thinking we decided that we would make this trip. So as we are in the car I am peeping his accent. I’m thinking to myself how strong his accent is. It’s really tripping me out. Eventually G tells me that Kwanzaa is from Venice, CA. What the eff? This dude is from Cali? I couldn’t believe it. I found out that he grew up around the corner from me. This was too uncanny.
Kwanzaa was more than grateful, He was so appreciative for this journey. He even offered to take me around the ATL. I passed up the offer because I was just ready to go to sleep. This really wasn’t what I expected on my vacation but it was interesting to say the least.
Wednesday, March 20, 2002 :::
it's been a while. well i am no longer moonlighting as puerto rican. it's just not happening anymore. why you ask? because i cut my hair off. i don't have pictures yet but i have the nubian princess look. so i must get to my thank you.
1) to my sister's you shaped my head perfectly
2) to my mother for giving thick gorgeous hair that will grow back
3) to my father for giving me the courage to do this
4) and to both my parent's for making me cute as a button.
Now the only problem is i can never go to cali looking like this. I think I am very beautiful but i know that they will never be able to see the beauty in me with out hair. it's just one of the flaws of the city of los angeles and my family. it is the weave capital of the world.
I just finished taking a personality disorder test. The first time I took I was so freaked out about the results that I had to take it again to change a few answers that weren't quite accurate. Who knew that a interne quiz could get me so shook? The funny thing is that parts of these are true but it seems odd when I read it as "results of a personality disorder test". I'm cool really I am.....
On the first one High on the Histrionic
People with histrionic personality disorder are constant attention seekers. They need to be the center of attention all the time, often interrupting others in order to dominate the conversation. They use grandiose language to discribe everyday events and seek constant praise. They may dress provacatively or exaggerate illnesses in order to gain attention. They also tend to exaggerate friendships and relationships, believing that everyone loves them. They are often manipulative.
One the second one Moderate Schizotypal
Many believe that schizotypal personality disorder represents mild schizophrenia. The disorder is characterized by odd forms of thinking and perceiving, and individuals with this disorder often seek isolation from others. They sometimes believe to have extra sensory ability or that unrelated events relate to them in some important way. They generally engage in eccentric behavior and have difficulty concentrating for long periods of time. Their speech is often over elaborate and difficult to follow.
Does not begin to describe the food I just ate. I hopped over to the local Indian joint because I hadn't been there in a while and I think I'm down because I can count from 1 to 10 and know enough to get a date in Hindi. So I order Chicken Vindaloo, I know I should not order this because I think I might be allergic to all on the spices in the sauce. Now I am very aware that this dish really spicy and that is what lures me to. After I pay I walk out and notice that the guy gave me 5 dollars too much change. I don't go back because I feel like it doesn't really matter because they over charge for everything anyway. I set up shop in the living room and get ready to grub. Little do I know that this is the spiciest Vindaloo I have yet to encounter. I couldn't eat it. It was too hot. I ate some of it but even with rice and an aloo paratha it just wasn't going to happen. So it's all a wash. He gave me too much change but I didn't eat about $5 worth of the food.
Monday, March 04, 2002 :::
Boston Adventures goes to New York
I went to NYC this weekend and I had a great time. I met up with one of my bestest friends in the whole wide world. She was in NY just to have fun also. I also was able to squeeze in sometime with a native New Yorker aquaintance of mine. Saturday night it rained and this aquaintance of mine decided that we should trek in the rain umbrella-les all over the effin' city. At the time I thought it was a good idea. In fact, I might have even enjoyed the freedom of not worrying about my hair. I only realized it was a bad idea the next morning when I was hung over, my clothes were about to mildew, and somehow I twisted my ankle.
I was able to to confirm a suspicision that I have had for a while. When I start getting tipsy I want to be kissed and I also want to do a kind of stripper type dancing(of course with my clothes on). The problem with this scenario is that the last two times this has happened the Mr. is not around. So then I want to go home so badly or I start thinking about who ever is arouond me. Each time I decide that kissing random people is a bad idea that would not only ruin my life it could give me herpes. If I was in my right mind I would never think about kissing these people. In fact the thought of kissing certain male friends makes me want to puke. Yuck!
The most important part of the trip was that I purchased a Triple 5 Soul backpack. Probabaly the smartest thing I have done in a long time. Goodbye shoulder pain! I'm really looking forward to the next trip to NYC who knows maybe I should move there.
