Sunday, September 26, 2010


I'll be 45 soon. V and I have been dreaming of ways to celebrate my 16,000+ days in this planet. Seattle in October would be a lovely gift in orange and gold. Boston is far but we can't stop dreaming of maple trees. Regardless, my birthday is near and I can't help having birthday flashbacks.

Here's one:

When I was 14 years old I was aware that I was not a pretty girl. I knew my parents would not throw a quinceañera for me 'cause I was not  princess material, I was more of a Josefina girl ( by the way, my personal definition of a quinceañera is a fucked-up party for young Mexican girls who are willing to learn the fine art social conformity and who are willing to full fill some sick psycho sexual  fantasy of their fathers. Okay, perhaps I'm exaggerating a little, but I think I'm damn close).

My parents still asked me if I wanted a quinceañera, but I think they were just being courteous. I told them I didn't want one which was a great relief for them since quinceañera fiestas do cost a lot of money. Of course, I didn't let my parents off the hook that easily, I told them I wanted a big stereo instead.  What can I say? Rock and roll and big ass speakers excited me more than parties for 15 year old girls.

When my birthday arrived, my father took me to the Mexican side of town where they had cheap mueblerias for poor immigrants. I took a Blondie record with me to test the loudness of the speakers. I played Dreaming over and over until I found the stereo I wanted. I received strange looks from the sales clerk for wanting  loud rock for my 15th birthday.

My brother helped set up the stereo in my bedroom. He was impressed with the size of the speakers, but not the my taste in music. He kept shaking his head as if those brand new speakers  and my new stereo would be wasted on rock and roll. My four sisters came to my bedroom to see my birthday gift and to give me a sorry looks. They didn't understand why I had chosen a stereo instead of the quinceañera. They told me that if I had gotten  a better haircut and with a little make-up perhaps I would have been a decent 15 year old. But there was no turning back,  I knew the stereo was worth it. When you're a Josefina girl you learn quickly you don't have much in life.  That day, on my 15th birthday,  I had music in stereo. 

To the punkish Josefina girl I was in 1980 who danced this mess around and shouted Why don't you dance with me?!

And because dreaming is free---and because I didn't give a flying fucking fuck if my speakers were wasted on Blondie.

Sunday, September 19, 2010

day in the city of angels

We spent the day in Los Angeles. 'Went to a Dodgers game, Chinatown...and walked the streets of L.A.
I don't ever wanna feel like I felt that day....take me to the place i love ..take me all the way
-red hot chilli peppers

I'm turning tricks, I'm getting fixed, I'm back on Boogie Street. You lose your grip, and then you slip into the masterpiece. And maybe I had miles to drive, and promises to keep: You ditch it all to stay alive, a thousand kisses deep.
-leonard cohen

 her hands turn red cause the days change at night.. change in an instant... the days change at night...change in an instant...she had to leave los angeles
(an "old" punk band from L.A.)

 Mr. Mojo Risin...Got to keep on risin...Mojo Risin..gotta Mojo Risin...Well I just got into town about an hour ago...took a look around.. see which way the wind blew..where the little girls in their Hollywood bungalows...Are you a lucky little lady in the city of light..or just another lost angel...
-The Doors
and she gave away the secrets of her past and  said 'I've lost control again'
                                                                      -joy division

(this photo is for c.v.)

oh, god, I must be dreaming...time to get up again...time to start up again...pulling up my socks now...where did the night go?
-gil scott- heron

strike, dear mistress, and cure his heart...Severin, Severin, speak so slightly...Severin, down on you bended knee..taste the whip, in love not given lightly..taste the whip, now plead for me
-Velvet Underground
(the architect of this building is Frank O. Gehry)

Monday, September 6, 2010

Sunday drive

We took a Sunday drive yesterday afternoon. On the left was the Pacific ocean and on the right, hills.  Our old Honda moved on the highway of concrete without saying a word. Summer had abandoned us earlier that morning. There was no use going after it. We still have the ocean.

Sunday, September 5, 2010

sigo guardando música

y hago una cuerda con esta canción  porque era 1985 y el final no llegó.