Five VS. Five and Twenty

Five: she resides with her mother and younger brother in dirty commercial neighborhood where most of the children in school speak spanish on the playground. she does not speak spanish. during recess, she keeps herself busy by either collecting bees in a jar or spinning on the monkey bars. mrs. fuentes keeps her after school by asking her if she'd like to help her with some tasks. only she doesn't know that mrs. fuentes knows her mom sometimes forgets to pick her up. well, she only lives around the block, and one block away from mrs. F, so they walk home together most days after school. she remembers learning how to spell her name, she remembers only knowing capital letters, she remembers alot for a child that age.

Five and Twenty:she resides with her mother and a newer family. she works in an environment where her coworkers communicate amongst themselves in spanish. she knows only some spanish now. during lunch, she keeps herself busy by smoking near the back of the building and making calls on her cellular. she lives too far from work to walk home, but she does take walks after arriving home. she remembers unlearning her work ethic, she remembers meeting "the man", she remembers alot for a child her age.

Five: her best friend lives 5 blocks away. his mother babysits for her mother alot, but she never minds because she loves her best friend. she's still too young to know what it really means to love a friend, but it doesn't matter. he is very finicky, sometimes he'll want to play and sometimes he'll lock her out of his room and ignore her. one time he almost drowned her in his doughboy pool thus making her cry and fear him. she hated when he wouldn't let her play with his g.i. joes or he-man castle. he didn't like when she'd make his heroes do girly things. he grew jealous when his next-door neighbors used to come over his house to play with her, so he'd call her names and shun her. she was oftentimes hurt by his actions. but when he came into her kindergarten class with tears in his eyes, holding mrs. f's hand, she gave him her crayons and gave him a hug. she thought, boys are strange.

Twenty Five: her best friend lives far away. his mother lives closer to her than he does, but it doesn't bother her because she still loves her best friend. she's still too naive to know what it really means to love somebody, but it doesn't matter. he is very finicky, sometimes he'll talk about things that he feels and sometimes he'll ignore anything ever said. one time he did absolutely nothing to her yet he made her cry and fear him. she hated when he would pretend not to hear something, though he'd never call her names or shun her to her face. she was only once hurt by his actions, but now knows it was her own fault. but when he is sad and lonely, she shares her toys and hugs him. she still thinks, boys are strange.

Five: she's a quiet one. she likes to play outside. she likes to go where she's not supposed to and get very dirty. she will roll around on the grass despite knowing it will make her itch later. she gets in trouble alot, but for things like cutting all the roses off their bushes or putting insects into jars. She never can foresee what is going to harm her, and she injures herself alot. she loses things because she has a hard time paying attention and remembering items. she prefers to remember people and events.

Twenty Five: she's not so quiet. she likes outside, but not exercise. she likes to do what she's not suppose to, but stays clean. she's learned to give flowers their chance to grow, but still yearns to cut every pretty smelling thing she sees. she has better foresight and tries to make goals to help better her situation. she still has trouble sticking to them, though. she remains absent-minded and ditzy because still she prefers people over things.

Five: She was caught kissing boys for Chuck E. Cheese coupons.

Twenty Five: She envies those days.

And on a side note.......

        Another interesting personality I ran into at the party was Gene. His situation in law seems pretty sweet at the moment. But there was something i found strangely familiar while speaking with the guy. I was talking about something (stupid, i'm sure), and i made some sort of sweeping generalization which I'm known to do. Of course, wouldn't it be him who clarifies the language and corrects the said statement? I commented on how that remark was very Mark Meyer-esque. And i was just wondering if it's just me, or is there something about lawyers and lawyers-to-be? I can't really place my finger on it.

The City of Angels and the River Bottom

These days that come at the end of the week are starting to get pretty good. I hope this doesn't change. I drove my little Camry down into the valley, and visited with people I haven't seen in a very long while. Firstly, i attended Lora's mini birthday celebration. Their apartment is located in the city where my sweet little Elliot resided, which definitely made getting off the freeway funner than usual. Anyway, I drank and chatted on their lovely little stoop, and met their friends who were quite charming. Another interesting addition to the night was hanging out with Bennett with whom I haven't spoken in about 4 years. I was definitely glad that I did something unlazy, and drove further than i usually do. Refreshing.
    Saturday and Sunday was spent with the Dormanens and Manders. J9 made me a yummy strawberry shortcake, and an awesome omelette. Babycakes was sweet as usual, and I love when he holds my fingers and walks like a little dinosaur. He is freakishly strong, and i think he should enter a standing contest against some other 4 month olds, he'd kick their baby asses right into the playpen!!!!! My favorite scene of the Sunday was watching their freakish roommate hover over a sleeping Kenny and wake him up to fix her internet connection. I wasn't sure if i was laughing at this girl's crazy demeanor, or Kenny's pissed-off reaction. Well, i guess it was all good. Just like the saying, IT"S ALL GOOD.

The Summoning

I'm so tempted to bring down my last drunken post, but whatever....that's what happens when you leave a girl to her vices. Anyway, i'm going to a party tonight. Wish me luck. Luck.

He Had it Coming.......He Only had himself to Blame

My new favorite thing is the musical we know as CHicago. I don't know why i love show tunes more than a gay man in nylon stockings. It's just so god damn good. I mean, I learned to love all that shit back in the 80's when i'd sing and dance to Annie in the kitchen. I'd slide around the floor and throw the mops around, while wishing my mom was drunk in a bathtub. Someone didn't have to wish all that hard, though. But regardless, I pretended to be Audrey from Little Shop of Horrors. I'd pretend my dentist boyfriend would beat the crap out of my face. I'd want terrible things to happen to me, if only i were the heroes that i'd emulate during my little games of pretend. I used to wish that I was a poor idiot from the wrong side of London who'd get some lingual asshole to teach them how to be civilized, who'd teach them how to charm everyone who'd think they were better. I wished I could wear dresses to the race track. And I'd dream about tricking an entire town into buying my invention of a self ass kicker. Everyone would try to hire me, and love me, and want to dance around the stage with me.
Roney is drunk.....she's so drunk right now.......and on beer....imagine that!!!! Ronell, drunk from beer? What could that be about? And she love show tunes......

I don't really know what I should write about. I'm just watching my fingers float around the keyboard like they're some sort of spider walkers.....I want to smoke a cigarrette, and talk to my friends....call my people, and try to contact the spirits. I was born in California. Who was born in California? Who's going to burn California when the patriots come to town?

I want to eat olives from my fingers, i want to knock on my grandma's door and have her invite me inside, i want to ask for a doll for christmas and get it, i want to sneak into my brother's room and have him ride his bike into the alley with me, i want to squeeze a lemon into the priest's eye, i want to sing my songs for my cousins at christmas, i want to be what everyone used to think she was.......

but my grandma is dead, and my brother is married......and now i'm expected to buy gifts for christmas. Because i'm a grown up now...i'm supposed to be the bigshot now. I went to college, and why aren't I the success i'm supposed to be? i just want to sleep, after drinking 6 beers. She's a loser now....she's a nothing......she's a baby doll gone sour. Death to Roni, death to roni............death to that god damn stupid bitch....burn baby burn......burn, motherfucker, burn.............

Cash Money Bling Bling

Oh what a joy it was to get paid. I missed the simple little pleasures of things such as sliding my ATM card through the gasoline pumps, and pumping my car full of gas. It's been running on fumes for almost 4 days. I am often amazed at how my car seems to never run out of gas, despite my insistance on driving while the empty light shines so brightly. It was also pleasant to finally have the money to go buy more of my body wash and uber lotion. It was almost torturous to use Zest and those crazy smelling Victoria Secrets lotions.  It was also so nice to finally get that Pond's face lotion that your skin just drinks up like dew. I guess what I'm trying to say is that, as surprising as it may sound to some people, it was fantastic to have a pampered shower with all the moisterizing and freshly fragranced essentials.
 
Recipe for the Perfect Show-Show
1) Matrix Shampoo and Conditioner
2) Dr. Bronners hippy shit
3) Brand new Loofah
4) Shower gloves
5) Apricot Facial Scrub
6) Raspberry shaving cream
7) Pink Venus Shaver
8) Nature's Gate Hemp Lotion
 
It was also nice to have the ability to buy a birthday present for my little sister. Her birthday is tomorrow, like Mark Meyer's. I also indulged in my sweet guilty pleasure of purchasing a Caramel Frappuccino from the evil conglomerate.  I made up for it by making my dad and sister come see Fahrenheit 911 with me. Anywho, i'm happier now that i'm less of a pigeon. It sickens me to feel like the dirty birdy rat with wings.
 
I had a good weekend, getting drunk with old high school peeps and visiting with the sweetest little baby ever.
I'm beginning to get a little more comfortable with the status quo. But not too comfortable.  

Who's that Girl?

Slutty bridesmaids, endangered felines, rich blood, harlem, retarded UPSmen, missing keys, love, scandal, leather jackets, fencing, motorcycle cops, and madonna.....how can you go wrong? Well I surely can't imagine how. My favorite running joke is how everyone in NY has had Wendy Worthington in the cab before. Anyway, I've been noticing that these stories of mismatched love, eighties and others send horrible messages to the poor, feeble minded such as myself. The timeless story of the freeminded child/whore who slowly wins her way into the cold, bankrupt heart of a tax attorney.These movies are always the same.
Okay Okay okay, so i have been known to watch shamefully cheesy romantic comedies, but i also watch normal movies too. And I sometimes begin to wonder why I tend to become obsessed with the impossible. For instance, if something is weird or crazy, or just downright idiotic, chances are I will fall in love with it. Well, it's just easier to blame movies and shut the fuck up.



"You'll take care of me, won't you?"-Wendy
"Of course i will, i'm very muscular"-upsman



On A faraway side note, .... I have nothing to do with this

HOwever, i do have ties with this one....Too much time on my hands

Wine then beer, fine and queer....

Who gives a shit about what I've spent my week looking forward to? A night with Pacificos on the pull out couch? Maybe a Friday out to the movies? Perhaps a swirly drive down the mountain where my head won't hurt and my lungs won't feel like a freezer bag? Or perhaps its a chainsmoking evening on the porch kicking my dog's head. I don't know why Friday seems like such a big deal, like something oh so fun to look forward to. Only for some psycho reason, it seems like a little jewel at the end of the race. It seems like the little baby's pacifier.

All I wanted to do after work was as follows: call my friend in portugal, have a couple of glasses of wine, go see Anchorman, and then vegetate while reading my other friend's book. Well, I saw Anchorman, and now i'm drinking beer (aka. the killer of self esteem and motivation, or maybe it's the mother of the two....i always forget) REgardless...I'm losing in all my games of scrabble.....people use all their fucking letters, Anchorman wasn't as good as i wanted it to be, my calling card being a fucking cheap ass thing, and my dog growling at my feet.....

The only thing that keeps everything so fresh and fun is my willingness to revel in such pathetic existence. Ya sure, I may even think that i'm exaggerating, except for I have the memory of the two hours I just wasted watching the remake of Freaky Friday with the fucking hermaphodite. Wait a second, is it Jamie Lee Curtis or Jodie Foster who harbors a penis? Well, i guess that is one of life's greatest questions that will never be answered. The saddest part of this story is that the made for 13 y.o. retards of a movie was actually making me laugh. Well, like when Curtis' character pretends like she's going to hit her son. And when she calls him an idiot and he looks like he's about to cry. I don't know why but both child and animal abuse really really entertain me. For instance, i don't think i was able to breathe during Anchorman when Jack black kicks the dog off the bridge. It reminded me of that halarious story back in 2000 when some guy threw this old lady's bichon frise onto freeway traffic. My god, the halarity.

Anyway, i know there's alot of people out there who "love" animals, but come on, it's like that time my very very funny friend started singing that song "if yr happy and you know it, abuse a child".....ALRIGHT, i'll stop with the abuse jokes. Sure, some people don't "get" things.

What the hell am i even talking about? Who are these people? Are you one of them? Well, goddamn it, answer me....ARE YOU?

Day Seven

Wake:720
breakfast:yogurt
lunch:bagel with salami
dinner:salad, ritz with cream cheese, 2 slices plastic wrap cheese
water:4 glasses
exercise:not much...i skipped my afternoon walk to enjoy the empty house to myself
sentiments:i feel shitty about skipping my walk
wine:i've had 3 glasses of apricot wine.....oh so good.....it's good to feel a bit spinny....it works even better after having salad for dinner.
Bed:Very soon, i'm exhausted......

Underwriting at an insurance broker

When my boss first explained wedding insurance to me, I was like, "dude, don't those rich son of a bitches have anything better to spend their money on?" It doesn't even insure against change of heart.
Nonetheless, the point is this- most people buy it because the luxurious halls, museums, hotels, restaurants, etc. where the reception is held, will most likely require the host of the wedding to purchase 500,000-2,000,000 liability insurance. The presence of alcohol is the root of the evils, but i digress.
So if you know me at all, then you won't be surprised by the endless stream of ridiculous questions I asked. The answers usually baffled or angered me. For instance, I asked why the insurance doesn't end until 2 days after the event. If the event is over, why does the insurance continue? Well, apparently guests of the event can sue the host or the establishment for these idiotic things. 1) Getting wasted, driving drunk, injuring another person or car. The other person suing the establishment which furnished the alcohol to the said person. Let's forget about the thing called personal responsibility. That's what's wrong with everything i hate. 2) Getting poisoned by the food, but not realizing it until the next day. If sued, the insurance will still be around.
OKAY, so what underwriting entails is as follows: 1) Checking over the applications to make sure the layman has filled it out correctly 2) Issuing insurance policies based on the approval of the application 3) A bunch of correspondence and Mumbo Jumbo, like faxing confirmations, issuing Certificates of Liability, etc. 4) Making copies and folders galore for these files 5)Mailing 6) Filing 7) Answering questions and calls.

Alright. So now that you know how the job works, step two requires the natural progressions of Roni's inner thoughts. IF, and only IF, one would want to do illegal activities....my god, how easy it would be....credit card numbers flying around like confetti, verification codes as tempting as frosting on a cake, and the guts to make all my dreams come true? Well, nowhere...i am as innocent as a billy goat chewing on a can. In a field. by some hillybilly's skeleton of a car.

Day Six

Wake Up:7am
Breakfast: Coconut yogurt
Lunch: Leftover chicken from last night (My mommy made me a Lunchy)
Dinner: uh, the rest of my lunch chicken
Water:8 glasses
Exercise:45 min walk
Sentiments: I'm alright i guess.
Bed: Who can say?

Day Five

Wake Up:7am
Breakfast: Some generic version of Grapenuts with milk and sugar
Lunch: Tofu, apple, tortilla
Dinner:chicken, broccoli, rice + 2 glasses of wine
Water:6 glasses
Exercise:30 min walk
Sentiments: I'm fucking tired
Bed: Before 9pm

Day Four

Wake Up:7am
Breakfast:Water
Lunch: Yogurt, tofu, tortilla,
Dinner:Chile Verde con frijoles
Water: 8 glasses...yea!
Exercise:45 min of fast walk
Productivity: 1st day of work
Sentiments: I had an overal okay day. And i'm so tired. I think i might like my job. If first days mean anything.

A History of Firework Loving........

1979--Still in the Ole Tummy. I did enjoy the Fireworks at Rosewood Park, though I was pissed that I didn't have much of a view. Still though, the Corona was a nice touch. Thanks Mom.

1982--I'm getting used to having a little brother. He may get more attention than I do, but i get to hold a sparkler.

1983-86--Dad brings us to Abuela's house where it is legal to set off yr own. After getting bored with wimpy sparklers, I learned that i liked to kick those fire-flowers that spin on the floor. I still wasn't allowed to light them. (That doesn't mean that I didn't.)

1989--My first trip to Mexico, and introduction to sky-rockets. My brother and I would shoot them out of a Corona bottle at each other on the beach. (Thanks again, Mom)

1991--My Bart Simpson T-shirt suffered a massive hole in the back due to an airborne fire-flower. Thanks, Ricky.

1993--After moving from East LA, they no longer let you light yr own fireworks. So this time we had to see watch those lousy air fireworks in the park. This is the year I began to get disillusioned about the 4th.

1995--I learned the historical significance of my precious day of fire.

1997--Another Mexico 4th, this time filled with my own consumption of Corona. The phrase "fire in the hole" became popular with Kenny, my brother and I as we threw firecrackers into people's tents.

1998--I began getting distracted from my love of fireworks when came my love of alcohol. This was the year Kenny flew us off a cliff, and we were stuck in weeds. We had to walk back to the rest of the folks, unaware of what really happened, or why.

2000--I began to discover that Kenny may just love fire as much as me. This was the year we set a couch on fire in the middle of the apartment building. I also remember Mark Meyer throwing firecrackers at cars on Dwight.

2003--I don't think I did a thing with fireworks this year. I just remember getting very very drunk at Eiji's house.

2004--Calm, friendly BBQ at Janine's House. No drunkenness, no fire. I've been thinking alot about fire.

Day Three

Wake Up: 10am
Breakfast: Ring Pop
Lunch: Chips and Dip
Dinner:Corn on Cob, 1/2 Sausage, mac salad
Beers:4
Productivity: Hanging out, talking, and chain smoking on the porch.
Sentiments: That's a successful BBQ if i've ever seen one.

Day Two

Wake Up: 11am
Breakfast: water
Lunch: Tunafish and cherries (gross combination, i know)
Dinner: Tofu, apple, carrots, celery, dip
Water:6 glasses
Exercise:30 minute walk/jog
Sentiments: Alright, though i felt bad about the 4 Coors Lights I drank.
Productivity: I hung out.
Bedtime: Late
Goal: Have fun

Dear MrkMyr and Tre-C

How dumb is it to get excited when you see a comment on the blog? Like i said in my very first blog, I wasn't very sure about this blogging business....but now i see how it sorta makes things interesting. Good job guys....(in my mind, you invented blogs) Both of you, simultaneously, on opposite ends of the earth.

Day One

Wake up:12pm
Breakfast:Too late...
Lunch: Grapes
Dinner: Corn on cob, asparagus, steak
Water: 4 glasses
Exercise: 30 minute jog/walk around the 'hood
Sentiments: Not quite as good as I'd like it, but as long as it's an improvement from yesterday, then i'm okay.
Productivity: Not very much
Bedtime: Attempting before 12am
Goal for tomorrow: Go to Janine's or maybe Sherin's house if she is down here like she said last weekend. Pay my credit card bill.

Day Zero

Wake up: 10am
Breakfast: Bowl of Peanut Butter Captain Crunch with milk
Lunch: Turkey Sandwich w/ mozzarella, about 30 pistachios and 2 cookies
Dinner: 2 Slices of Hawaiaan, 1 slice Sausage (Dominoes)
Water: 1 and 1/2 glass
Exercise: None
Sentiments: Come the fuck on, this is just not okay anymore. Maybe this embarrassing recounting of your poor habits will encourage some improvement.
Productivity: Job interview, and I got it.
Bedtime: Unsure
Goal for tomorrow: Drive to LA and buy some fireworks. Take guitar and play with new friend. Visit Rebecca if she writes me back. Enjoy last weekday of freedom.
Goal for July: Lose 8-10 pounds, place $900 in savings account, record the 4 new songs I've recently written, fix mom's sewing machine.

The "Man" has lured me to a hazy quiet place where he beats with a stick

In other words, I got the job. I have officially licked and closed the little envelope that is my life. Only, I'm the cheap, poisonous envelope that George Castanza purchases one fateful New York summer day. I am told that I will be an underwriter for an insurance company. I wonder how many people knew there was a such thing as wedding insurance? Ah, maybe it's one of those things that everyone knows, but never speaks about when y'r chatting on a terrace with a beer in yr hand. "It's not something you learn in school, it's just something you've got to experience." Who knows the source of that beautiful quote? Anywho, I think this mountain life is going to be permanent. So i'm documenting this day. By the way, last weekend during my Oaktown excursion, I did some new daily snooping. I'm working on the updates. I wonder if there's a such thing as fool insurance?

Highlight of the Day: During a screening of The Banger Sisters, I called my mom and asked her to guess how many cookies were in my mouth. She hung up on me. She should watch more TV, like a good American.