Vaya Con Perezident

Don't Get Me Started (Farted)

2010-09-29T15:06:00.002-05:00

Making it my duty/job to write a little bit everyday so I don't strangle a stranger on my way to the dark palace on wacker.

I am working from home these last few days...and let me tell you...I am A REAL GOOD AT HOME WORKER. I am on time, on task, and I even skip lunch.

I am gonna be goal oriented this year.

I am gonna do the following:

Make My House Pretty
GO To The Gym and Be Less Fat
Write
Read More Non-US Weekly
Learn How To Cook

I wish to god I had a PM DAWN RECORD RIGHT NOW. Because I am craving some Set Adrift on memory bliss girl.

TOODLES

Real Talk

2010-09-24T16:24:00.001-05:00

Im gonna blog on this bitch more often

blog

2010-03-23T23:35:00.002-05:00

well hey visitors.

so I've done a bad job at this.

Just read through all posts.

Well, you can never quarantine the past.

I feel old.

Not as optimistic. It the best way possible.

Single again without all the rage the use to be a given with break ups.

Mcving to Logan Square.

I am gonna delete this thing I think

being a blogger is hard

2009-04-27T15:42:00.002-05:00

and thats why I can't call myself one.

Updates:

Moved into new apartment with boy.

Love New Apartment.

Love Boy.

Directed a reading of nilkmilklemonade for PG's Mise En Place.

Directing fracture/mechanics for pg in june.

Directing punkplay in november for pg.

BUSY.

Long Time, No Blog

2009-01-29T16:55:00.002-06:00

Yeah...like three months.

Developments:

Things are great.

Today I start the hunt for my first home. EXCITING. I might be a Landlord.

Currently in the longest relationship I have even been in. Love the man like whoa.

Work is rewarding, and challenging.

PG is going swimmingly. We are still around...even in this economy. Wow.

I have no complaints. Accept that some bitch with a fake tan cut in front of me inline at the train today. Bitch. She looked like a Simpson with her fake tan.

Toodles

See our play

2008-11-13T16:48:00.000-06:00

ok

2008-10-06T11:46:00.000-05:00

busy. busy. busy.

how are we in production again? things move fast at the pg compound.

I am tired like the moon.

strange lights

2008-09-17T13:36:00.002-05:00

I like this video.

Going to LA this weekend. For my brothers 30th birthday. Man, if HIS 30th birthday is making me feel all old and paranoid, Imagine how mine is gonna feel.

Megan leaves tomorrow for Grad School. Tears in Heaven. Final margarita night tonight with her. Would you know my name, If I saw you in heaven?

Sorry Eric Clapton for lampooning your sweet ballad for your son. I feel so bad, I went and shut a window.

I am going to hell.

balance beam

2008-09-15T11:29:00.002-05:00

It's a hard endeavor...to balance the properties of your life.

Work. Friends. Boyfriend. Home. Cats. Theatre Company. There are a lot of balls in the air.

I am a bit overwhelmed.

flores dolres

2008-09-08T13:17:00.002-05:00

la was the bomb.

well a partial bomb. like a smoke bomb.

the wedding was good...filled with some chad's though. the best man quoted Ronald Reagan in his speech. BAFOONERY. He called him a great man. I guess great men ignore public health EPIDEMICS (see AIDS crisis,) put our country into fiscal ruin (see Reagonmics), and let a generation of mentally ill folks out into the wonderful world of homelessness to save some green. Thanks faggot.

when i got to midway last night, my boyfriend picked me up and brought me flowers. Hearts all over the world tonight girls.

I have eaten exactly one apple today, and I am feeling GRUMPS. Gunna get a salad.

Now who's the faggot.

flew

2008-09-05T16:02:00.002-05:00

dont like flying

but im going to la tonight for Devan's wedding. Some much needed family time...

lots of time spent with the man friend this week. ahem, excuse me, my BOYFRIEND. yup. things in the ether are good.

cross your fingers...I may have booked a PAYING directing job.

ps: should I apply to Grad School next year?

weekend

2008-09-02T11:10:00.002-05:00

weekend in a hot flash -

wednesday night drinks with craig - then slumber party with the dood.
thursday long romantical day with dood. ahi tuna steaks, margies candies, down town at night, deep rapture, some weird shift...inside me...like the rumbling of earthquakes...sisemic shifts. the sound of bikes flying against the concrete...

friday, saturday, Sunday, Monday are all blurs. kick ball, messenger event at av-arie, innertown, rainbo, pizza, kickball, four moons, the dood, the dood, the dood.

sometimes I feel like I won the lottery.

grand pianos crash together

2008-08-25T12:47:00.003-05:00

ok lets make this simple:

I met a dude.

Have spent a lot of time as of late with said dude.

Not to sound like a gushy unicorn, but I know these things to be true:

He is stoopid smart.

He is hysterical.

He has the prettiest eyes.

Something is moving in my chest.

Being an hour late for work was worth getting to drink coffee and get to know this remarkable man.

shame response

2008-08-19T14:11:00.002-05:00

letter to kemi adeyemi

dear madame

why did i let you convince me to go out last night?

why did we get pizza?

did you see my dignity lying around anywhere?

oh yeah, i left it at chances.

Well Hello

2008-08-18T11:44:00.002-05:00

Riddle me this: How much money do you think you would have if you didn't spend a cajillion bucks at the bar?

this weekend was bonks. fun, but bonkers. all accidental fun. I was gonna take it easy. yeah, like that ever happens.

Real Talk Express: I am going on a date this week. N.E.R.V.O.U.S. and totally excited...and...REAL TALK EXPRESS/EXPRESS: He is ridiculously cute. Like so cute, I am wondering if this is an elaborate prank devised by my enemies.

Real Talk Limited: I am tired like the wolf. I had a dream last night I was eating a huge marshmallow, and when I woke up my pillow was gone. HAHAHAHAHA

I need someone to shake me by the shoulders like a baby.

I am obsessed with this picture:

I love that movie more then most people.

Dotty

2008-08-17T14:20:00.002-05:00

My cat is a hussy. Daddy didn't raise no trollop.

for nan

2008-08-04T01:38:00.001-05:00

Mies En Plas
for Nan

Pork belly
on a large plate
large enough
that the table seems abundant
with two forks - in tandem - never competing
maybe for the check
or who gets to leave the last bite
for the other

never once did I make sure, that you knew
that this food, was only good with you

small pieces of meat
conversation
morsels of confession
fennel against ferocious loss
mies en plas
a roux of sorts
of a need to palate the present
and ensure the future will be on course
And of course, we will still be able
to meet at any table
despite the wine
never mind the price
or the zip code
or time
or tenor

the only thing
same ingredient
is the conversation
and the time left to marinate.

I have eaten most meals alone
but food tastes better with you.

departures

2008-07-29T22:07:00.003-05:00

Today Jeremy and Nini moved to New Orleans.

A week from Friday Nan and Annie will be gone to. I started thinking about my dinners with Nan...and how those will be too far apart. And I was - devastated.

Megan leaves in September.

Mike Ray leaves in September too.

Heidi and Ben most likely in December.

And then thinking about the ones who have already left...

Stop moving, its making me sad.

such a color

2008-07-29T00:04:00.000-05:00

A friend just turned me on to Shugo Tokumaru.

I am now in love.

OBESESSED

2008-07-23T15:55:00.000-05:00

I cant stop watching this. Does this mean I'm straight. Or maybe I just like their dresses.

real talk

2008-06-23T11:22:00.000-05:00

don't take the present for granted, because the future my not be there.

stop mourning the person you aren't, and get down with the person you are.

don't try to ensure the future will be loaded with pain, because its a sensation you can recognize and predict.

stop complaining.

other peoples success doesn't equal your failure.

looking for self worth in other peoples eyes is a fruitless endeavor. that's why its called SELF worth.

you can't make anyone into the fiction you've created for them. living in fiction robs you of learning from harsh reality.

the expense of anger, is a waste of energy. this one is important.

the small particle of time/energy it takes to actually connect with people is an investment in everything.

this isn't to anyone in particular. it's mostly just for me. man I'm gay. its like I took meds....but I only had Claritin.

Also...listen to your favorite song over and over again...the tenor of it...if it evokes good things...should be repeated.

so summmerrrr

2008-06-19T14:09:00.000-05:00

2008-06-17T13:39:00.000-05:00

There is so much summmer.

Lots of things swirling around the air like tiny particles of awesome.

Bikes, bars, bbg's, dudes (DUDES! like I need to be obsessed with that) and really just enjoying the company of the people I am lucky enough to call friends.

Next weekend I go to Seattle for Kate's wedding. SO STOKED.

You know, sorry to be a sap, but I feel real good. It was a long stretch for a second of work, stress, being bummed, but now...I feel like a bucket of cocks.

Oh, and it's official. I am cleaning up the neighborhood. Watch out d-bags, the mayor is gonna knock that fucking backwards baseball cap off your skull. And tell your skanks to stop talking so loud @ the bar. I will end you.

Oh. This is the tenor of this summer:

S.I.C.K.E.R.S.

2008-06-09T11:22:00.000-05:00

I am home sick from work.

I went to the MD today, and he says I can go to the gym finally. Project don't be fat go!

Yesterday we put the show to bed. All boxed back up and gone. Sad sorta, great mostly. I am dog tired.

For some reason I can't get enough of this video:

happy birthday

2008-05-30T21:53:00.000-05:00

Happy Birthday Tim.

we miss you alot.

summer

2008-05-26T22:28:00.001-05:00

SUMMATIME.

It's started and its tarhearted and awesome.

Pressure Drop

2008-05-24T13:27:00.001-05:00

I am officially dying.

Ok, not actually. But my doctor put me on Blood Pressure meds.

"You have REALLY high blood pressure...have you been under any stress?"

HAHAHAHHA.

So now I have to take a pill for a few weeks. Its suppose to make me tired. Oh well, atlaest now I can sleep without the aid of whiskey.

In better news, I have 6 small vacations planned for the next six months. Seattle, New York Twice, LA Three times, oh wait, four if you count November wedding...JESUS.

Last night was another night of accidental fun. I am remarkably not a complete mess of a person today...well at least not outwardly, just spiritually.

TOODLES

husttle and flow

2008-04-28T17:05:00.000-05:00

this week marks the beganning of the hard two weeks. Load In for the show is on Thursday! Hang on Friday. Build Sat. Tech Sunday...and then a long week of shaping the show, fixing the glitches, getting nested in the space, pr, marketing, trying to sleep....and you know what....I am STOKED. I need the distraction...

Oh and:

sometimes I just need to

2008-04-25T10:35:00.001-05:00

back in the high life again

2008-04-21T09:04:00.000-05:00

Where is Steve Winwood to underscore my triumphant return to adulthood? This weekend was C.R.A.Z.Y. with a capital K. I'm putting braces on someones teeth over at the whiskey corporation.

Jenny G. was in town from NYC which was great. Ted's birthday party at Elegant Mr. Gallery was an exploration of moral negotiability. Paul and Soco's birthday a the clipper was also an adventure in babysitting my belligerence.

Then yesterday I was in a lot of pain. And got stupid emo mascara tear sad about stupid shit. BUT. Every time I start to feel weepy, the play, is right there, waiting. Cold comfort. A million filaments. Brief relief.

I also ordered an enormous Pizza from Santullo's and watched Law and Order with Kemi. I still have some slices left, which, like Richard Marks, will be right there waiting for me when I get home.

beautiful city

2008-04-18T20:16:00.000-05:00

Don't Miss....

2008-04-13T23:55:00.001-05:00

like this

2008-04-08T23:59:00.000-05:00

First/Last

2008-04-07T00:53:00.000-05:00

Dead Man's Cell Phone opened today. A mixture of relief and sadness. We also had first rehearsal for Lipstick Traces. Which was awesome.

Sitting at opening night, at Vinci for the party, drinking free wine, eating free food I couldn't hake the feeling that, somehow, when I wasn't looking, I became an adult.

Maybe this is because I am starting back at Leo Burnett tomorrow in my for real big kid job in HR. Whoa.

Went on a "date" last night. And lets just say, bad idea. The whole time I couldn't stop thinking in my head "I wish you were someone else."

And I know how these next months are going to go. I am now officially IN rehearsals for LST, and am up to my ears in producing stuff, and my new job, and the time I have left is for friends....and the summer will be here, and were gonna eat falafel outside, and drink iced coffee, and hang out in the backyard, and try our hardest to imagine a world where we have one extended summer and circumstance was always in our favor.

Did I mention I had some wine?

Fine Lines

2008-04-01T00:16:00.000-05:00

The ULTRA short story below of mine is being published in a friends Zine, Fine Lines real soon. It is a one sitting, small editing, response to this picture:

The story:

We went to see the band.

A small pond of tears formed on the upholstered seat of the street car. Mom's face stuck to the seat like two pieces of cold cuts in a bag. Lolly sat silent. His head hanging like a dull pendulum. I stared at the Jewelry District as it collided with afternoon sun. Mom coughed into the cushion. I stroked her hair, and waited for the car to run up on our doorstep.

Dad dropped us in the Taxi before his route started. The pier had a carousel, and on weekends a Polka band would play on the sand. Mom liked to listen. She would buy a hot pretzel and drift back to Gdansk, lesser Poland, before blood, before my father brushed an eyelash from her cheek in the bar in Szczecin, before her hands and face became topographical evidence of hard years, before the tiny shared tenement on Fairfax and Wilshire, before the brass of the band made her ache.

We usually sat silent, sharing a Cotton Candy, watching the bearded men squeeze music out of rusted instruments with tangy brass and brittle strings. They spoke her language, but she refused to make friends from Poland. "I wont speak that gobbling language" she pronounced at my constant inquiry. She had put a bow tie on each of us, and wool trousers two hot for even January. California was not Poland, it wasn't even New York. Lolly coughed and feigned suffucation, which phased Mom little.

I would collect a handful of rocks, while Lolly would read a discarded newspaper. That day, the last day we heard the band, I had collected fourteen rounded stones, and a small spattering of gravel. I clenched it my hand, and showed it to Mom, who said "Don't pick up any glass."

The leader of the band spoke frank and crudely. I figured this from the expression on my mothers face when he'd sputter a sentence to pick the tempo up. Today, his spirits seemed high, and they laughed. Lolly laughed at their broken smiles, and I would pretend to be in on the joke being told. Mom sat silent, her fist clenching. Maybe it was the tenor of their voices, or the recollection of simpler times, but that day, the last day we saw the band, was the first and final tear I have seen my mother shed:

"IT'S OVER! Don't you know you old fools? It's gone. Every inch. Every mile. GONE." Stunned and silent, the band leader took his cap off. "But the song...", he said in his broken English, "..is still on the paper. And we wish to play."

Mom sat stunned, and in what seemed like an instant deliberate motion, grabbed the collection of gravel and rocks from my palm, and chucked it at the band.

To this day, I don't remember how we got to the street car, or if the men yelled. In the world of compassion I have learned to occupy, I hope they tipped their hats in silent recognition - in kinship - in mourning for a woman. A woman who longed for home, a woman without a continent. A woman in pursuit of a new narrative.

The last day we saw the band, Mom went to bed early. Lolly and I ate toast on the steps. Maybe we didn't say it, but on that day we made a silent agreement to keep that music out of our life.

Lo Siento Tiempo

2008-03-31T00:19:00.000-05:00

I haven't blogged here in a while!

And think I need to start up here again. I am inspired by Sarah and Robin....so here is me being a copy cat.

Welcome back readers. I promise to say ordinary things daily.

This week has been a long one. Parts of it sad, most of it good.

Dead Man's Cell Phone @ Steppenwolf is going good. Saw two previews today, and in between I went for dinner with 30 undergrads from Knox College and talked about the play, Steppenwolf. and navigating a career as a young theatre professional.

It reminded me of something. When I was 17, I was really fat, and sad, and in high school, and didn't have friends, so I would spend lunch time in the Library, in the theatre section, reading plays. My senior year, I skipped 5th period to read Marisol By Jose Rivera in its entirety. I remember, my back against Beckett, Orton, Ibsen, Vogel, Wilson(s) and dreaming of what seemed to be an impossible life - where I was participating in professional theatre. 10 years later, I was sitting in a rehearsal room at the Goodman, assisting Chuck Smith, on a reading of a new Jose Rivera play.
I couldn't shake the feeling - we are the architects of our own destiny - and time does, if you work hard, point you towards what's right. And taking that for granted is unforgivable.

I am a lucky, lucky man to be assisting on a new Sarah Ruhl Play at Steppenwolf. I am to have a theatre company that can pull a show like Lipstick Traces off, and some great collaborators to enable that.

The time we spend on what's not right - is flummoxing. We have to participate in the present, or it might not be there when we look up.

Vengo

2007-03-01T07:42:00.000-06:00

It´s really early, and I am have one last Spanish class. I am going to get coffee, breakers, and study before my final test, then immediatley go back to the house, get my stuff, and cab to the airport.

I have never been more ready to return from a vacation. A month will make you miss work, apparantley.

Since I´ve been here I have filled three and a half journals, write two short plays for submission to Sketchbook, wrote a rough first act of a new play, read 8 books, been drunk a mere 3 times, called someone a little shit eater in Spanish, witnessed public mastrubation, public defication, public abuse of a spouse (a woman pucnhed her husnand in the mouth,) seen paintings of Orozco, Rivera, Kahlo, an many others, got the worst sunburn and subsequently the best tan I ever had, ate a bulls testicle, told my aunt to keep her trap shut, told an springbreaker in acapulco that he was the reason the rest of the world hates americans, rekindled my relationship with Tequila, had a few epiphanies, felt a bit lost, felt alot motivated, FEEL reenergized, feel that I needed this bad, and know that one day I will speak Spanish fluently.

Phew.

I hope to see some of you tonight at Goldstar. Man, I need to like talk in a language that I can manipulate.

Bessos,

Dave

Last Days

2007-02-27T21:43:00.000-06:00

Acapulco!

2007-02-23T08:47:00.000-06:00

For my final weekend here...My aunt, my cousin, and I are going to Acapulco for two days!

This is where we're staying:

And...this may be premature...so I will e vague. It looks like Pavement Group just got the rights to a very freaking exciting show. I haven't been this excited about a project since like last November.

Word.

small words, big heart

2007-02-21T22:51:00.000-06:00

Lots of things right.

Lots of ideas in my head.

I got really excited today. Had a small epiphany. I´ll share it with you if you want.

Were really lucky, you know that. People want to be around us...we get to do what we want still...we haven´t rotted from complaceny yet...we haven´t decided what we want is intagible. We still find weird simpactico and sentiment in sloppy music, small passages, and silly moments made under young circumstances.

I am going to spend the next week writing a manifesto and two lists. One of people to say thank you to - one of people to say sorry to.

I´m sorry that I am inconsistent. I´m sorry I make you get to the point of hating me before you know you matter. I´m sorry I punish you for no apparent reason. I just kind of loathe things...and its not your fault. You know who you are.

I´m sorry I´m hard to work with. I´m getting better. I just want more, of course.

I´m sorry you have to hear me complain...when really...everythings alright -
"In sense, we´re all winning, we´re alive."
-from "Steps" By Frank O´Hara

The parts of me that seem angry are really just a shy kinda sad. Not a sad that needs help, a sad that is just starting to stop mourning the past. I promise not to mourn the future.

Theres this part of all of us that wants to remain dissatisfied. Fuck that part. I´m sorry your not enough sometimes. I don´t mean it.

Most importantly, thank you for making the recent history bearable. Thanks for your proximity. Sorry I am victim to these bouts of sentimentality...it seems the only right things sometimes.

Next time I see you I will be happy.

Sometimes abandoning your whole entire life gives it some major substance.

Whoa

2007-02-20T18:04:00.000-06:00

At about 2am here in Tamale, Tostada, I was awoken to the sound of GUNFIRE. And then twenty minutes of screaming, crying, moaning, and what may very well have been someone dying. Then I heard...say...about 10 ambulances and police cars arrive.

I never felt more at home.

Occupado

2007-02-18T19:07:00.000-06:00

Wowee Zowee

2007-02-14T22:01:00.000-06:00

I am a fucking party animal! Thats why I am sitting in bed at 10 on Valentines Day in Mexico watching re-runs of csi miami. Don´t forget.

I started spanish ths week. I have ONE classmate. He is a 42 year old Korean man who look a bit like the guy that teleports in heroes. I made the awfull mistake of going out for Coffee with him. He screamed at the top of his longs in broken english (in mexico) WAITER COFFEE. I blushed commie red. He also came late to class, I cant believe I´m saying this, and was like "could we start over. I am SO hungover." And I said, "that´s no excuse. You are late." I don´t like him much.

So if you live in Chicago don´t read this..because I´m gonna gloat. The last two days...after class...I have spent half naked on the roof of my aunts apartment, reading my book about my current idol, Tennessee Williams, and writing a new play. Yeah...real excited. I started writing this play about an agoraphopic.

Here´s the sweetest thing I saw Today:

Even my cold heart melted a bit for this.

Wowee Zowee. The notes said: Te Amo. Ahhh.

Oh I went to the Zocalo and saw zome Orozco:

Some Rivera:

And some Perez:

Ok folks...happy v-day!

Love Variation

2007-02-12T21:41:00.000-06:00

I was thinking about love while on the bus back from San Miguel De Allende, and wrote, what now seems to be a very pessimistic essay:

Love is a deceptively unselfish act. When really, it’s more selfish then most thing. Except slavery, and maybe being a slumlord.

When you fall in love with someone, it’s not the person, per say, that you are in love with. That comes with time, when you actually get to know that person. But initially, its falling in love with parts of yourself that person introduces you to. Those small portions of you that are top secret flourish – suddenly you want more, you need less, and the idea of disappearing into someone else’s embrace trumps the parts of you that need motion.

When you fall out of love, the same thing. Those newly discovered parts of you retreat. You thin they might never return. The angry, ugly, vehement particles of your being come slithering out of your self respect, and guide you towards bad decisions. I am the worst at breaking up. I drink more bourbon, I have major malice in me. I’ll make my friends hate you. Shit, I’ll make your friends hate you.

Why? Because, maybe, and this may be a sentimental schooner sized piece of horseshit, we all want someone to sleep next to. Because, when I break up, it’s not sex that I miss, it’s that reliable embrace, the place between their chin and knees that I occupy. Hot breath, a gaggle of limbs, non verbal conversation – small passage between two people.

And loves impossible. IMPOSSIBLE. Because we are fucking tainted by these cinematic ideas of what romance is. Running through the rain, running after a bus, running through the airport – basically running. Chance encounters, weird simpatico, serendipity – all these fallacies corrupt our ability to actually connect, because we have all these expectations of magic on something that is so random...and so regular, and for some reason, completely fucking evasive.

Being a gay guy, I hang out with a lot of girls. Because of silly shows like Sex in the City, and, I don’t know, Melrose Place, women are force fed these expectations that a guy should do this, and the rules, and this weird fucking psychic game everyone’s suppose to play, instead of just taking things at face value, and saying what you want. Look, I’m not taking a side in the gender warfare in heterosexual relationships. Neither side has it good. Guys are dense. But damn ladies, you all want mind readers.

Now the easy part: It’s not our fault. It’s good to believe in a world where happenstance and cosmic inertia will land you in the lap of everything you ever wanted. I like to believe I’m on optimist – and that love is constant – love’s imbedded in everything we do, and when we finally deserve it, it’ll accidentally, unemotionally, reveal itself to us.

One of my favorite books, ¨Mysteries of Pittsburgh¨ has a great scene regarding these matters. While in the throes of heartache, the protagonist is pontificating to his friend ¨Love is like....¨ and his friend responds:
¨Love isn’t like anything. Don’t compare it to stuff¨

So, from one cynical neurotic and single gay man to the populace, here’s a good reminder for Valentine’s Day: Go outside, say Yo to your friends, look people in the eye, drink one more then you feels responsible, eat some fucking cake, and remember that everyone deserves love, and its inevitable. Even if it’s not in the form of some stuffed bear holding a chocolate dildo.

Happy Valentines Day

Claro

2007-02-09T21:47:00.000-06:00

Call the bomb squad because Mexico´s a blast.

Sorry for that joke.

So I went to San Miguel De Allende. As many of you who received the text message assault knew my objectives were to meet a european and have ¨consensual¨relations.
Well, I met a european.

But are ¨relations¨were platonic, as he ended up being this real cool straight German guy who I spent all my time with.

So on my second day we went swimming at Taboada, a Mineral Pool...whoa! Mathias, being a giant in Mexico hit his head, hence the Gorbachav on his dome.

San Miguel is a pretty city see:

And we took a really awesome tour of the bars, and the power of Tequila, and of course, in American in Mexico style, food poisoning. The last two days have been an adventure in digestion. Since I´m king of the over share, Montezuema got his revenge.

Despite my liquid nature, I went to register for school today, and was promptly placed in beginners Spanish, which was a bit of an ego slap to my Mexican Heritage. Oh well, at least I have this lily white skin.

Anywho...back to the Sony Channell, and episodes of Seinfeld. Subtitles of T.V. and movies are going to pound that fluency into me. Oh, by the way, I saw Dreamgirls. I´m just going to say it - It´s great. Oh, I´m gay incase the lisp and STD´s didn´t give it away.

Till next time.

Toodles

San Miguel De Allende

2007-02-06T18:15:00.000-06:00

I took a bus today for three hours to San Miguel De Allende...and small little town outside of Mexico City.

Ok...here's why it blows:

It's so fucking ful of American Ex-Pats and there pedal pushers, loud cell phone talking, and total fucking romanticizing of the culture, "Look Marv at the 'Pueblo,' can you say Pueblo? Neither can I!"

Shut up.

Other than that it's gorgeous.

I'm staying at a Hostel that costs $10 a night. Actually its twenty...but I decided to get the private room because I'd have to share with three 18 year old girls from Argentina who, according to the owner, stay up until 5. That's about an hour after my bedtime.

It's actually really cheap. The bus was $40 roundtrip, and they showed a dubbed movie with David Caruso and Katherine Erbe (Steppenwolf!) The landscape is gorgeous...but kind of bums me out.

This is why.

80% of Mexico lives below the poverty line. 10% is lower middle class. The other 10% is filthy rich. I wont even try to pontificate about their recently burgled election (a people's president won, but was nulified by the incumbent party) because I just don't know enough.

This weekend. after I'm back in D.F. for a day, we are going to go to Cuernavaca, and sit on the beach. To rent a hotel there is like 40 a night for three people.

Anywho...I' m going to try to find coffee.

Oh...one last thing.

I am totally sentimental...but I didn't realize how much I'd miss all my friends. I mean, I knew I would, but there's this weird thing I got today, where I realized that I am surrounded by alot of really awesome people. Period. You guys are the best. And what do you want from Mexico?

Anyways...hope everyone is splendid.

A Good Day For Tourism

2007-02-04T22:35:00.000-06:00

Digame, Por Favor

2007-02-02T16:22:00.000-06:00

I have landed in D.F. (Districto Federal.) I guess nobody actually calls it Mexico City. Smoggy, dangerous if you are a pedestrian, crooked streets, visible poverty gap, deep history - tradition and modernity in weird symbiosis - palpable culture that breaths, breaths, breaths.

So I saw a really hot guy on the train to O’Hare. I have major crushes on hot strangers all the time right? Something very different about this time, O.K. Sharing the same car, seated facing each other, we shared a weird smile. He wore red framed glasses, and his hair was either a really well actualized conservative Mohawk, or a ponytail, which is inexcusable. I have a cataract, so it may have been a ferret coiled around his scalp, but nevertheless my heart started to race, and I stuffed myself back into my Tennessee Williams Memoirs and cowardice, not wanting to return what might be the most flirting I have participated in the last year.

When the doors opened, we shared another strange glance, which, again, I returned with a shy ducking into a fake text message on my cell phone. Because of my sprained ankle (thanks whiskey and black ice) I was unable to catch up to him to, as history dictates, chicken out and not talk to him. I quickly abandoned the idea when he ascended the escalators before I could even get twenty feet.

Whilst collecting my self respect, I decided to return to my favorite skill and past time, judging things:

I decided - The Airport is a Topiary of Stupid. Like really stupid. Like 350lbs of Florida Hawaiian shirt, oversized sombrero, butchered Spanish attempt at "Buenos Dias Amigos" whilst greeting four other diabetic looking blobs of tourism terror. I was trapped by the abyss of this, trying to find my line to check my luggage, when a curt United Airlines represenative says, "You must need help." Yeah airport Moses, part this sea of sandals for me. That’s what I wanted to say. "I just want to go to Mexico." We shared a laugh.

I found my line. It was for International Coach Passengers, Domestic Coach Passengers, and Ted.

Ted?

Who the fuck is Ted. I actually said this out loud. Is there like this really popular guy who gets like his own line....but that doesn't make sense, because that means they put him with the cheap seat people like me. I turned to the person behind me to help quantify my confusion.

And like some Cameron Crowe movie where someone like runs in the rain, or cries in the snow, or farts on a beach, Red Glasses, Mohawk not pony tail, stubble across angles of dimples, eyelashes, embarrassment -

"What do you think Ted means?" I say, trying to re-assemble my cool posturing.

"I think the lights burnt out. It's united with out the Uni."

"Oh."

He Laughs At Me. Eyes dancing nervously behind what usually would be a weird choice of maroon for spectacles.

"Well, I'm going to pretend there’s this really special guy Ted, if you don't mind." I smile, tucking my chin to my chest.

"Totally. I'm with you." He smiles again, and like 2 million marbles start rattling down my ribcage, doves, and a band.

I half turn, to make way for the awkward silence that usually follows.

"Where you headed?" He asks.

"Mexico City!" I pause," Apparently I am really excited."

"Yeah...good! Why are you..."

"I'm a drug mule. I have like twelve balloons of heroin inside me right now."

He laughs.

"I took the month off. I'm gonna do Spanish School and write. Fuck winter."

"Totally"

"What about you?"

"I'm going to....South Korea."

"Whoa."

"I know."

"To do What?

"I actually don't know yet. I have friends there."

"Awesome..."

And so on and so forth...to avoid boring you with the sad gay details of yet another moment I turn into cinematic pulchritude...I'll stop overusing the quote marks. He lives in the neighbs. He's very nice. He works for an AV company that does hotel stuff...I think...he probably has a name though I didn't get it...and when we were rudely interrupted by the lady wanting to help me check my bags into the flight I had paid for...we had a quick goodbye.

I know I'm sentimental - I know I'm filled with enough sap to fill every maple syrup bottle in the united states - but I couldn't shake the notion - I will cross paths with you again.

A year, and some stuff

2007-01-05T21:32:00.000-06:00

I'm in LA right now, right?

And as many of you may know its patly to observe/commemorate the death of my step dad last year.

There's this pressure to create a sentimental - angst ridden entry about the nature of loss - the arichtecture of disaster - and how family re-assembles itself. And I am not sending these things up. I think they are important.

I think what I am finding is the need for clarity in the present: Looking at people - listening to people - not arranging yourself around your past - not projecting the future - but absorbing the present - feeling that wierd electricity that possibility creates.

This year has been, (and language can begin to articulate the essence of it), an obstacle. I started to feel like luck was not on my side - that me and god had beef. But when I take a look back, things aren't realy that bad - I mean, they could better - but I'm a lucky guy.

So..enough of that.

Things I've done since in LA:

1 Metal Show - Mexican Death Metal - At The Whiskey

Beverages at The Rainbow Room with a bartender who hated us, then loved us, took pictures with us, and then bought us pizza.

One Trip to Canter's Deli. Ouch.

Beverages with JJ and Marisol at, Cobra's and Matadors, The Dresden, The Goodbar, and The Powerhouse. This is one night!

"Party" at my moms. A good time. Saw people I grew up with felt old. Drank Tequila. Ouch.

Bought "Memoirs" By Tennessee Williams (because I am that gay) A Guide to Mexico, A 20 dollar pair of levis at the Levi Store Sale, two hungarian kalache's (damn gina) and a book about Bruch Springstein for my mom.

And I saw "Pursuit of Hapyness", "Volver", and "Stranger Then Fiction" All three were good. Stranger was the best, OK. Will Farrell deserves a reach around.

Phew.

Vaya Con Douchebaggery

2006-12-07T19:02:00.000-06:00

So....Hi.

This is David Perez.

Writing from America.

Soon to be writing from Condesa, Mexico City.

Stay tuned...