RIP MJ

Unfortunately, time contraints are preventing me from posting what I would really like to write about the greatest Pop Icon and one of the most influential music artists of our time.

RIP MJ

...and yes, the Man in the Mirror because I've been feeling this song lately, especially in it's relation to my crazy life.

And the kid makes a comeback...

I haven't blogged about anything in a minute... I've either been (1) slacking or (2) busy - it's honestly been a combination of both.

For all of the 3 people that follow this blog or have been anyway, I am happy to report that I am now living in Los Angeles part-time, Marina del Rey actually. I honestly like it there. It's strange going back and forth from city to city, but when I'm in LA, I feel like I have a somewhat normal life. I wake up and go get coffee and breakfast (or make it at home), head to get some work done, meet semi-normal people etc, etc. In bed sober by a decent hour.... Now, one might be thinking how in the world I can call the superficial City of Angels, "normal". Let's just say that in comparison to the party capital of the world - Vegas, it is most definitely normal. Especially when you work in the nightlife scene.

Partial anonimity is so awesome - allows me the opportunity to vent about the crazy sh*t in my life.

I've begun to accept the fact that either:

(1) all men are dirtbag idiots

or

(2) due to the fact that I work in the nightlife, all men think they can act like dirtbag jerk-offs

It is indeed most definitely a combination of both. Part of my job is to be a "fun" person. As one coworker so poignantly put it, we're not librarians. We wouldn't be doing what we're doing if we didn't have a grasp of the "party life." Now a lot of baggage comes with this, for both males and females. We meet A LOT of people all the time. It really is part of the job description to be able to be very social. And sometimes I think that the lines get blurred about what people begin to feel is an acceptable way to treat us, almost as if anything goes (well, more than what most people would be accustomed to in any situation).

No wonder I'm still single. It's so annoying when people ask me if I'm involved in a relationship and then upon hearing that I'm not, immediately default to, "Why?" Up until now, I had no way to answer that and now - I do. It's because:

(1) I haven't met the right person yet

(2) People I do meet are jerks, the ones who are decent have other issues and complexes or are just plain weird.

(3) The ones who aren't jerks are either:

(a) married
(b) engaged
(c) already involved in a serious relationship

(4) The ones who are single are way to overprotective, jealous, controlling and try to run my life, or tell me what I can and cannot do.

Believe me, some people get lonely and frustrated over being single... I, on the other hand, get frustrated not because I'm single, but because of all the baggage that has most recently come with it.




Even with the anonymity, I can't go into specific details, so you're going to have to get creative and think up your own story with the words found below.


Overnight bag Work Accidentally Clothes Left Athlete
Home Son Girlfriend Unwittingly No Clue Behind Jerk Father
Visit In-town Cheated Homerun


So yeah - I vented. Whoop Whoop for me. I' ve begun to think that I make really bad decisions when slightly inebriated, that I'm too naive for my own good and that I need to learn how to be more of an assertive b*tch instead of being such a nice person. I also need to learn to ask new people I meet if they are either involved with anyone, have any children with whom they are still seeing their baby's mama or are engaged or married. If I would have learned to do that awhile ago, I wouldn't be having any of these problems (which FYI, are much greater than the words listed above).

Ay Dios Mio! I'm probably going to go to hell and be the nicest person there. The worst part about all this is that I'm way to hard on myself. Regrettably I can't just laugh it off because in all honesty even though I was the one who got done wrong and the innocent party, I still feel bad.


FML.

The sad thing is that I'm beginning to think that these a*ses are making my physically abusive ex-boyfriend look good. Yes, it's that bad.

At least I'm not this guy - LOL.

Face Down

Craziness... I heard about this earlier this week and was a bit taken aback. I guess you can't be too famous to be ghetto [LOL]. In all honesty, though take it from someone who actually understands what it's like. Wow.

Down Time

Just got home from class and wow was it amazingly hard to get up at 8am this morning. I didn't do a darned thing last night except for relax after what turned out to be a long day. I actually fell asleep while watching Slumdog Millionaire, immediately after getting off of the phone with the "dreaded ex," who is not so much the dreaded ex as he is a friend. Did I just admit to owning a bootleg? Eh. Oh well. LOL.

Apparently the Ex's new GF with whom the situation is "complicated," (and that's based off of what he tells me - personally I don't really care), is insecure and jealous that we remain friends. I stay the f*ck out of it and told him that he needs to handle his business, because I don't need her g*ddamn drama. He says it's her last ditch effort to keep him around as he's moving out (they live together) next week. As I said earlier, I don't really care. We were together for 7 years and basically went through a lot of growing pains together. It's really tough to not remain friends as we know each other like the backs of our own hands. Relationship wise, it's done AND done. I wouldn't dream of even being in any kind of romantic relationship with the dude. *shrugs* In fact, I tell him EVERYTHING that goes on in my life now.

I spent the larger part of 6 hours at a photo shoot yesterday. Just not my thing. Hopefully I get some kind of shots that I'm happy with out of this one. I think the last time I shot anything on that grand of a scale was in 2004 in Hawaii. That photographer (Russell Tanoue) was absolutely amazing and a pleasure to work with. It's just too much of a fuss and too much work! Yes, taking pictures is hard work and surprisingly exhausting.

On a random note, I've begin to call myself the girl version of Chuck (as in Good Luck Chuck). Seems like everyone that I seem to find myself "associated" with either has a girlfriend or fiancee, with whom they conveniently "forget" to mention. Dear L*rd living in Las Vegas is making me a bonafide homewrecker. It's like, "Get with her and you'll find the person you're going to be with for the rest of your life immediately after!" I'm kidding BTW. I'm just not that kind of girl. It just gets tough when Mr. X still wants to "keep in touch" after leaving town and after I am aware of the relationship. And believe me, I'm no homewrecker. I still can't figure out what it is about me that makes me seem to be "that girl." One of my coworkers thinks that it's because I'm completely easy-going and extremely easy to get along with. I guess I'm really good at getting others to feel comfortable around me. *shrugs* I should write a book. It's amazing the situations I find myself in. Absolutely amazing. I mean I'm always down to be anyone's friend, but not at my expense nor theirs. *shrugs*

G*d damn maybe I should be a hermit - then life would be more simple. LOL - I seriously need to write a book. Trust me, this blog might be "anonymous," but I'm still cautious about the facts and details that I disclose. Believe me, if you knew of it, it would blow your mind at how amazingly "unlucky" I am. For some odd reason, things that usually wouldn't happen, or have a slim to none chance of happening, tend to happen to me. I'm waiting for those odds to work in my favor so I can either win the lottery or the Megabucks. HA!

This town is absolute madness. I just have to keep telling myself everyday that I'm in it to win it. In it for me and my future. That I need to sacrifice a little in order to gain a lot.

:PinKSoX:

The Vitruvian Man

[Pondering] ...the meaning of life is absolutely pointless.

I really should be studying for my Sociology, Latin and Astrology classes, but instead I'm taking the time to blog about absolute randomness.

Once upon a time I used to get philosophical with myself and try to determine the rhyme and reason for everything that happens. In essence, question my life and my reason for being. Now I'm old enough to know better. I mean at it's very basic (in my opinion), life is all about making choices and dealing with the consequences. In talking to a really good childhood friend today, I came to the realization that dealing with life means becoming mentally fit to handle the situations you are given, whether they be decisions that need to be made, have made or will make, or the simple acceptance of reality.

I've become a great deal jaded since moving to Sin City and I'm beginning to wonder if I am so because of the separation that exists between myself and my environment. Everyone eventually evolves to becomes the product of their environment (basic anthropology) and I am trying desperately to cling to the small portion of me that is that small-town girl. My jadedness is either a direct result of that, or possibly because I've become so bored with myself and my life that it takes a great deal to excite me these days. Crazy as it sounds, I'm hoping it's the former versus the latter. Seems like these days the most successful people are like robots. Thinking, computing, calculating and doing, without any emotion whatsoever.


Logic is greater than emotion 99% of the time.

So as part of me still ponders where it is that I belong in this big, bad world, the other 80% of me functions without stopping to even ask the simple question of, "why?" Which, of course leads me to the obvious - Am I simply choosing to exist or am I actually living my life? And if I'm simply choosing to exist, then does it really matter for me to continue to chase the elusive proverbial, "happily ever after?" (And by this I mean the proverbial happy ending, not etitrely specific to the whole Prince Charming, white picket fence deal)

Beware young'ns out there - the mid-mid-life crisis bites. I guess that's what life is all about - living, loving, laughing and self-discovery.

The child in me wants to stay a romantic at heart, remain naive, see the world through rose-colored lenses and believe that there is some good in the world. The woman in me knows better, in that there is no such thing as actual "good," morals are extremely relative and majority of the world is out there to get their own.

At the end of the day, all I can hope for is a smile on my face and the feeling of some sort of contentment without completely losing myself and conforming to the mold.

Perhaps the only formula for success is the unconditional acceptance of life and what it brings... I have found that if you love life, life will love you back. Most people ask for happiness on condition. Happiness can only be felt if you set no condition. ~ Arthur Rubinstein

Veni.Vidi.Vici.

**as a side note, I noticed I never finished my post on last weekend. Eh, it's a lost cause at this point. This past weekend was longer than the previous, didn't think that would be possible. *shrugs*

Monday *ugh* My Weekend Part 1

**I just read this after I posted and I want to apologize for the terrible writing. I have an amazingly huge headache and honestly just feel like sh*t.**

I had a rough weekend. Probably one of the rougher ones that I've had in a while. Friday started with me wearing business attire to work (which never happens, I'm a jeans and t-shirt kinda girl). That should have gave me a clue that the weekend would be "outside the box". I ended up opting for a pencil skirt and blouse rather than the usual jeans and tee since I had a fresh and brand new tattoo on my left foot. The day went by quickly, I left the office, ate dinner on property* and headed to the club to work. Got off of work at 1230am and decided to head over to another local club. One of my homeboy's from the Bay (he's a marketing and talent freelance agent), had booked Tila Tequila and wanted me to come say hello. As tired as I was, I decided to get over there cause everytime Nate's in town I never get to hang out. I get to said nightclub and am amazingly tired and sober - a bad combination. I also was a little anxious as I hadn't been to this particular property since I was drugged (yes, I was drugged with GHB but not assaulted). Once I'm inside the club I head straight back to the VIP section where Nate is and the bouncer gives me a little bit of a hard time. I quickly learned that the reason the dude gave me a hard time was because Nate was actually at Tila's table. She's pretty cool, def down to earth in person and really tiny. I somehow thought she was a bit taller *shrugs* I hung out for a little while until a girl that was outside of the VIP section had tried to throw her drink at Tila, but ended up hitting me instead (I was standing directly in front of Tila). Fan-freaking-tastic. So, my wet back (and no, I'm not Mexican) caused my early departure.

Great indication of things to come...

To be continued...

something new, something borrowed...

Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue. Or more like black and blue...

No, I'm not getting married (pfftttt - that'll be the day). Accomplished one thing on my resolution list this week. I did the "something new" thing. Went snowboarding and loved it. I know I look like a total girly girl, but I did the unconventional sport thing when I was younger (well, sort of). I ice skated for years, even took figure skating lessons - but I prefer to skate on hockey skates any day of the week over the frills, leotard and tutu. I did the cheerleading, dancing (I even had a 3 month stint where I desperately tried to breakdance) and gymnastics.

Now here's the crazy thing - I'm so tenacious that I will literally stop at nothing if I have my mind set on learning to do something. This creates problems because I tend to end up hurting myself.

Case in point : Cheerleading. When I was 13, because I had my heart set on making the NCA (National Cheerleading Association) All-American team, I practiced and practiced and practiced for try-outs. I ended up making the team, but I overworked myself so hard that I pulled my groin and hamstring.

Case in point: Gymnastics. When I was 14, I was completely bent on learning to do a side aerial. I ended up learning how to do it, but it cost me a torn tendon in my left knee (which still bothers me from time to time).

Case in point: Breakdancing. I'll make it short - I was learning how to flare and ended up hitting the side of my foot on cement (it was swollen for a week).

I believe you get the point. I try something, I get hell bent on doing it and I end up hurting myself. I'm sure the fact that I'm very accident prone doesn't help.


After only two hours on a snowboard (as in ever in my life), my instructor tells me I'm ready to head up the hill and graduate from the bunny slope. In his defense, I did pick it up pretty easily despite the horrible icy conditions that Mt. Charleston is known for. I had no idea what to expect so I head up the lift with him. I get to the top of the hill, where I'm deathly afraid as some of the slopes looked steep and alot of freestyle turning and maneuvering was required. My instructor ensured me that I was ready for it. Halfway down the hill, I took a spill and fell on my rear. Anyone who's snowboarded before will tell you that one of the hardest things to do when you're a beginner is to get back up on the board after you've fallen. To make it worse, I was on a slope, so everytime I tried to get up, I ended up sliding down the hill a few feet. My instructor Felipe decides to give me a hand up which I gladly take. It's at this point that he...

shakes my hand ever so politely and says (in his Chilean accent),

"It was very nice meeting you... but I must go now to the bottom of the hill, I have another student waiting."

And off he goes down the mountain, just like that. I literally start laughing at my own hard luck as it reminded me of some crazy SNL skit. Even though I was laughing, I knew I was screwed. I figured I may as well as laugh it up...

Anyway, surprisingly enough I made it down 3/4 of the way in relatively good shape until... *big sigh* I was trying to carve on my toe edge on a slightly steeper slope and lost my balance. The board's edge got caught deep in the snow/ice and I was sent teetering forward. I raised my hands to protect my face (which was a huge mistake). This ended up exposing my ribs to the fall and since I was on a slope, I ended smacking my ribs square against the snow. Had the snow at Charleston been a little powdery, the impact wouldn't have been as hard, but the snow up there is packed and frozen. It was like hitting concrete. I couldn't move (literally) for about 5 minutes and then brought myself to my knees where I curled over holding back the tears. I had snow all over my face and glasses plus the blow knocked the wind out of me. I looked exactly like that picture over there, but instead of powder, imagine a frozen kind of packed icy snow. *ugh*

I collected myself enough to finish the run (and was quite proud that the snow patrol didn't have to come get me - LOL) and despite the pain, went right back up after a Jaeger/Red Bull. I'm sure the alcohol helped - ALOT.

And you know what? Even though I have a few bruised ribs (and I really do - no exaggeration there), I can't wait to get back on the hill. Am I crazy? Come on now - no surprise there. *duh* =p

<3

PinKSoX