You know something is not right when I’m checking my own Blog to see if I have posted something, because I have done it at least three times a day the last couple of weeks. I then think to myself, "Uh, I didn't write anything." I wonder if this is the start of split personalities.
I don't know you tell me.
No, you tell me.
Have you ever had too much on your plate that you didn't know what to eat first, so you kind pick at all of the food until you really haven't eaten much of it and it has become cold? That's what my life has been like the last two weeks. I've had a lot to do, and I've only touched a little bit of everything.
Even with the writing, as you can tell, has been a struggle. I have had problems writing emails. I read them, I know what the person has written but I forget to write back. I then get upset cause the person doesn't write me back and I give them shit about it, only to find out that I was the one who didn't do it.
I still have a lot on my plate, in fact, I'm going for seconds right now and stacking that food up. No matter how much I eat, if there is food, I will always be hungry.
Monday, May 29, 2006
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Thursday, May 11, 2006
May 15th
I've been meaning to write but I've been driving from L.A. to Las Vegas trying to enjoy time off from looking for work. I know that sounds weird but the pressure and stress one puts on themselves, or I put on myself can get to you or me. It wasn't a crazy time, it was just a time to say hi to new friends moving to Las Vegas and goodbye to an old friend, moving from Las Vegas to Arizona.
I wanted to remind you, if I haven't told you to watch The Price Is Right on May 15th. It's the monday after Mother's Day. My friend Nic and I went down to the show and he gets called down. I will tell the story after it airs so I don't tell you what happens before it happens. Don't want to tell you the end of the story before you see it.
Have a good weekend. I'm busy trying to figure out the website program Dreamweaver. I have no idea what anything is, but I do know how to make buttons on the site and make links...that's all I really need isn't it? The power of word will make it powerful.
I wanted to remind you, if I haven't told you to watch The Price Is Right on May 15th. It's the monday after Mother's Day. My friend Nic and I went down to the show and he gets called down. I will tell the story after it airs so I don't tell you what happens before it happens. Don't want to tell you the end of the story before you see it.
Have a good weekend. I'm busy trying to figure out the website program Dreamweaver. I have no idea what anything is, but I do know how to make buttons on the site and make links...that's all I really need isn't it? The power of word will make it powerful.
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
MySpace Down There Needs Attention!
Being unemployed, in an unfamiliar city, you can only look for new jobs for so long before you need to take a break. I can only read various entertainment news and sport updates so many times before I need to be distracted by something else. My newest obsession has become MySpace. There’s an 89% chance that you or someone you know has an account but just in case you have been in a coma for the last three years and are one of the 11% that do not know, it’s a community that has been created online where people post pictures of themselves, write blogs and stalk, I meant look for other friends or high school classmates. It’s a simple idea that has caught on with no signs of slowing down. It is official that this has become part of Pop Culture and is here for now but just because it’s here, doesn’t mean I have to like it. I hope that with time it fades away such as Crystal Clear Pepsi and the Atkins Diet trend. You want to know what it so annoying about MySpace? I thought you’d never ask.
Just Call Me, Not MySpace Me—I’ve noticed that people are relying way too much on MySpace as a means of communication. You used to go to a bar and ask for a girl’s number but these days it seems that they give you their account name instead I don’t think it’s a way of proving how interested you are by logging in to their account, I think it’s because it’s what’s “in” right now.
Friends who I have known for years won’t return my phone calls or emails but if I post a message on their site, they respond in mere minutes.
“I got your call but thought it would be easier if I sent you a message on this.”
It’s not easier, that’s why I called you. It is as if MySpace is sending out subliminal messages that is brain washing who ever logs on it because I don’t see how it is mathematically faster to get in touch with someone online than it would be to call their cell phone.
It’s Your Own Fault—Women, what is the real purpose of posting ten pictures of yourself in various sexy positions? Yes, I know this sounds like a stupid question to ask because lord knows I love checking out hot women, but I only ask this because the number one thing I hear my women friends say is, “I always get messages from creepy guys. It grosses me out.” This is something that should gross you out but there is a simple solution to this problem…stop posting pictures of yourself bent over looking behind you and you will stop getting messages from guys asking you if you “Want to hook up?” or “I wouldn’t mind being that chair right about now.”
This Song Does Not Sum Up Your Life—MySpace provides extra features that can keep people entertained (or distracted) for hours. Hours that could have been spent reading a book, taking a walk outside or looking for jobs but when I’m looking through these accounts I don’t want that. I’m here to check out the pictures of the women I mentioned above. I really don’t care about your cool background or the stupid “My Bulletin Space” which is the equivalent to mass forwards I get on my email accounts. What I hate most about these other features that MySpace provides is that you can put a song on your site. A song that usually slows down the loading time of the page and scares the crap out of me because I forget the speakers are on and “Baby Got Back” starts blasting. If Sir Mix-A-Lot is the artist that defines who you are then why am I even on your site? How can you justify your life if this is the song that defines you life?
In fact, why do I go to MySpace? At first, I thought it was “kinda cool” but the more I think about it, the more I write about it, the more it makes me sick to the stomach. I do realize that I don’t have to go there. That I should practice what I’m preaching but it’s tough for me to stop. It’s become an addiction, a car crash that I can’t look away from. I am afraid that if it keeps at the rate that it’s going that we will all eventually download ourselves into cyberspace and not the cool Tron version where you can ride on light cycles but the crappy version of Lawnmower Man 2: Beyond Cyberspace.
So maybe this is more of a public service announcement or an after school special rather than a clever article that I have written up in the last hour. This is my story, my tale to warn you about the evil ways of what MySpace can do to your life. Even if you think that you can only do it once and not go back, you will be wrong. Don’t say I didn’t warn you and if you do, you are no more a fool than I once was.
Just Call Me, Not MySpace Me—I’ve noticed that people are relying way too much on MySpace as a means of communication. You used to go to a bar and ask for a girl’s number but these days it seems that they give you their account name instead I don’t think it’s a way of proving how interested you are by logging in to their account, I think it’s because it’s what’s “in” right now.
Friends who I have known for years won’t return my phone calls or emails but if I post a message on their site, they respond in mere minutes.
“I got your call but thought it would be easier if I sent you a message on this.”
It’s not easier, that’s why I called you. It is as if MySpace is sending out subliminal messages that is brain washing who ever logs on it because I don’t see how it is mathematically faster to get in touch with someone online than it would be to call their cell phone.
It’s Your Own Fault—Women, what is the real purpose of posting ten pictures of yourself in various sexy positions? Yes, I know this sounds like a stupid question to ask because lord knows I love checking out hot women, but I only ask this because the number one thing I hear my women friends say is, “I always get messages from creepy guys. It grosses me out.” This is something that should gross you out but there is a simple solution to this problem…stop posting pictures of yourself bent over looking behind you and you will stop getting messages from guys asking you if you “Want to hook up?” or “I wouldn’t mind being that chair right about now.”
This Song Does Not Sum Up Your Life—MySpace provides extra features that can keep people entertained (or distracted) for hours. Hours that could have been spent reading a book, taking a walk outside or looking for jobs but when I’m looking through these accounts I don’t want that. I’m here to check out the pictures of the women I mentioned above. I really don’t care about your cool background or the stupid “My Bulletin Space” which is the equivalent to mass forwards I get on my email accounts. What I hate most about these other features that MySpace provides is that you can put a song on your site. A song that usually slows down the loading time of the page and scares the crap out of me because I forget the speakers are on and “Baby Got Back” starts blasting. If Sir Mix-A-Lot is the artist that defines who you are then why am I even on your site? How can you justify your life if this is the song that defines you life?
In fact, why do I go to MySpace? At first, I thought it was “kinda cool” but the more I think about it, the more I write about it, the more it makes me sick to the stomach. I do realize that I don’t have to go there. That I should practice what I’m preaching but it’s tough for me to stop. It’s become an addiction, a car crash that I can’t look away from. I am afraid that if it keeps at the rate that it’s going that we will all eventually download ourselves into cyberspace and not the cool Tron version where you can ride on light cycles but the crappy version of Lawnmower Man 2: Beyond Cyberspace.
So maybe this is more of a public service announcement or an after school special rather than a clever article that I have written up in the last hour. This is my story, my tale to warn you about the evil ways of what MySpace can do to your life. Even if you think that you can only do it once and not go back, you will be wrong. Don’t say I didn’t warn you and if you do, you are no more a fool than I once was.
Monday, May 01, 2006
May 1st, 2006
No matter how I write this, it will probably come off as bad but then again...do I ever care? Today, May 1st, the day that is called...well I don't know. The media has been labeling it so many names that I will call it, "The Celebration of Illegal Immigrant Day." I mean, from what I understood, today is the day where both legal and illegal immigrants took the day off of work and school to show that they have rights. The illegal immigrants have lived and worked in America for a long time and this means that they deserve to become citizens...right? I'd have to say no.
As open-minded as I am about most things, I even surprised myself that this is how I feel. Maybe it's because of the over exposure to it all and I tend to go the opposite way when someone is spoon feeding me or maybe it's the fact that as much as I feel that the law can be manipulated and bent to one's liking, I still feel that there are rules that need to be followed. Do I find tales of traveling in a raft in shark infested water for days, leaving their family behind to find something better in America to be a motivational story? Yes I do because it's got to be so fucked up back in their country that death is a better option then living in their country. But I have to say that when they get shipped back, I don't feel sad for them.
The reason I don't like watching the news or reading the paper is because they pick and choose what sounds good or what will get them ratings. Even though it is researched and the facts are accurate, the writer still has a way of pushing you into the direction that he or she wants to. Shit, I do it every time I write. An example I found was from Yahoo News
"Illegal immigrant Ray Martinez pays taxes, shops at local stores and works 12-hour days in this rich farming region known as America's Salad Bowl, where about 75 percent of the nation's lettuce grows." The thing I find funny about this quote is that it says he is both illegal and pays taxes. What the author does not mention is what kind of taxes he pays considering he shops and when you buy something there is a sales tax. Sales tax is a type of tax so that would make this right, Ray does pay taxes. That has to be the only tax he pays unless I am way fucking wrong, which I'll admit if I am because I don't see how the paperwork for him to pay taxes could be legal if he is an illegal immigrant.
In all honesty, I have to say that I didn't mind that today happened considering that they are building condo's right outside of my window and it wakes me up at 7 a.m every day and today you could hear a pin drop and as cool and patriotic the yelling immigrants were on TV and the protesters to the protesting chanting "Go back to Mexico!" made my day go by a little bit faster, I have to say that when it's all said and done I feel that just because you put the time in, doesn't mean that you deserve the prize. I'm a struggling writer, who knows that I have potential to write great things but just because I write all the time, doesn't give mean I deserve a book deal. Ok, wait, I do deserve one. Forget what I just said in the last couple of sentences. The point I was trying to make is that if you walk around, strutting your shit, demanding you deserve to be here, just make it legal. Comprende?
As open-minded as I am about most things, I even surprised myself that this is how I feel. Maybe it's because of the over exposure to it all and I tend to go the opposite way when someone is spoon feeding me or maybe it's the fact that as much as I feel that the law can be manipulated and bent to one's liking, I still feel that there are rules that need to be followed. Do I find tales of traveling in a raft in shark infested water for days, leaving their family behind to find something better in America to be a motivational story? Yes I do because it's got to be so fucked up back in their country that death is a better option then living in their country. But I have to say that when they get shipped back, I don't feel sad for them.
The reason I don't like watching the news or reading the paper is because they pick and choose what sounds good or what will get them ratings. Even though it is researched and the facts are accurate, the writer still has a way of pushing you into the direction that he or she wants to. Shit, I do it every time I write. An example I found was from Yahoo News
"Illegal immigrant Ray Martinez pays taxes, shops at local stores and works 12-hour days in this rich farming region known as America's Salad Bowl, where about 75 percent of the nation's lettuce grows." The thing I find funny about this quote is that it says he is both illegal and pays taxes. What the author does not mention is what kind of taxes he pays considering he shops and when you buy something there is a sales tax. Sales tax is a type of tax so that would make this right, Ray does pay taxes. That has to be the only tax he pays unless I am way fucking wrong, which I'll admit if I am because I don't see how the paperwork for him to pay taxes could be legal if he is an illegal immigrant.
In all honesty, I have to say that I didn't mind that today happened considering that they are building condo's right outside of my window and it wakes me up at 7 a.m every day and today you could hear a pin drop and as cool and patriotic the yelling immigrants were on TV and the protesters to the protesting chanting "Go back to Mexico!" made my day go by a little bit faster, I have to say that when it's all said and done I feel that just because you put the time in, doesn't mean that you deserve the prize. I'm a struggling writer, who knows that I have potential to write great things but just because I write all the time, doesn't give mean I deserve a book deal. Ok, wait, I do deserve one. Forget what I just said in the last couple of sentences. The point I was trying to make is that if you walk around, strutting your shit, demanding you deserve to be here, just make it legal. Comprende?
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