New Puppy!

Meet Loki, our newest pack member!

What a cutie, eh?

Best Couple

Quick! When asked about best couples in films, who do you think of? Bogart & Bacall? Tracy & Hepburn? Rhett & Scarlett? (Am I showing my age damnit?) Okay more modern: the couples in Crazy Stupid Love?

I remember sitting in an Eagle Rock movie theatre with Alex, my writing partner. We were in L.A. and for some reason had time to kill before we came back up here. And we both wanted to see Fargo badly.

What struck me about the movie was the tenderness and gentleness between Frances McDormand and the actor who played her husband. The acceptance. At first, the husband seemed slow, plodding and irritating to me. Then by the end of the movie, I liked him. More than that, I liked them.

To me, that's what makes a lasting relationship - tenderness. If that's present in the relationship and is the foundation of it, then most troubles/rough spots get to have a gentle blanket over them so the jagged edges don't hurt as much. And there will always be jagged edges. That's the other thing to remember.

I'm not much of a tender person. But I am learning. It's far easier for me to give tenderness then to receive it. Bratworse has been trying to teach me to receive and it's a hard lesson for someone with as many jagged edges as I have. Part of it is fear that she'll dash herself onto the cliffrocks of my personality. Part of it is fear that tenderness will wash away the rocks of my armor and expose the tender spots below.

More and more, I see us turning into a tender couple, out to support and nurture each other. And that's a good thing.

Inundation

Is this even a word? I am so going to be blogging more now. Just to start off, here are a few photos for your enjoyment:



Bratworse showing off her new shamrock confectionery.





Bratworse being surprised by me when she was watering her real shamrocks that she's growing.

More to come!

Wheeeeeeeeee!

-- Posted From My iPhone

Entertaining Guests

A door has been opened, a house that has been there for a long time, but closed has offered to open its door. The neighborhood has awakened. First on the scene is excitement, she's young, naive, she sees pleasure in everything. Hardly thinking past what she can see. I'm overjoyed to be in her company, blinded by the same rose tint of her glasses. We picnic together in the beautiful paintings of excitement's reverie. She's adorable and cute, but young and I long for company, that doesn't blind me with their view. 

Second to arrive, motivation. She's as alluring as ever. The soft words that emit from the sensual line of her body, coax me to dance. Drawing myself from the picnic, I relish the feel of her hand in mine, as she brings me to my feet. She guides my hand around her waist and pulls me so close my breathing syncs with her's, having confused signals. I swoon internally, cherishing our closeness as we begin to dance. I'll succumb to her. I want her. She knows it. She has a tight grip on my hand and she's not planning on letting go easily.

With a party like ours we're bound to attract attention. Our greasy friend paranoia. I keep him around, because a masochistic part of me enjoys his perspective. He puts a spin on things in ways that put me on edge, and make me feel alive with 'what if'. He makes life tense and interesting. 

He cuts in, directing the graceful dance to a stumbling dark encumbered alleyway. He likes the dark. Prefers it. He says, it's where imagination lives when we get older. That's why it's so hard to find, we don't have time to go exploring dark alleyways littered with junk we can't see. 

He knows me well. Perhaps better then motivation, either that or he's always 'on.' Preparing myself for his strike, I focus on the feel of motivation's body pressing the cloth of my shirt against the skin of my back as her breasts and stomach mold the curve of my spine. I follow her arms that are around my waist, as she hugs me from behind, and am happy she hasn't run. He looks around nervously before striking deep, assuring he's got my attention,

"What if you're feelings are unrequited?"

-------------------------------------------------

The last few days, Oatmeal has been traversing the lands of my mind. With each passing time, a growing curiosity stimulates old memories, motivating me to act. 

When she leaves my mind, I find myself entertaining wonder. Whom entered by enticing my eye with a glimpse. Her body inaudibly raised questions. Is there something in my life going on that's attracting her? Is she thinking about me, so strongly it's palpable within my own head? Did something happen? What is she doing in my head? Imagination steps in and the subject morphs into possibilities of mind connections on that level. 

Can the electric impulses that are my thought of you, find the station you're tuned into mentally and project myself in your head?

I want to call Oatmeal and bring her out of my fantasy and into my reality. I don't have her number. The people that I thought might, don't have it. One of them, Card Shark, even tried to covertly talk me out of even trying to contact Oatmeal. It's become surreal. And yet, I still want to hear her voice. 

In trying to find Oatmeal's phone number, I stumbled across some of my old journals. Distraction growled hungrily as I read the scripts to memories I had forgotten. 

This was written May 05, 2008...

Let's Pretend we Don't Exist

I wrote this April 18, 2008:

I dreamt about Oatmeal last night or this morning rather. Once there was a time when she roamed my mind and in such, was always near by. At least once a day she'd tap on my consciousness' door. It was as if my consciousness brought her to me, this morning though, it was consciousness' kiss that disrupted sleep's gift.

In the dream, I was at a party in a house filled by an ocean of people. I was in a room with someone who at first seemed to me to be Quatro, but as our actions progressed she transformed unrecognizably and I'm not sure who she ended up being, maybe herself again. She was professing attraction without opening her mouth. She was pleading for something more, with her eyes. Something inside me, was screaming "no," but was quickly replaced with a sinking feeling brought on by the soft crushing weight of her body as her lips graced mine. I broke free of her grasp and fled the room.

Leaving the warm sun of solitude, I was plunged into the cold pool of the party, swallowed by the waves of people who were in attendance. None of them mattered and they soon disappeared when I found Oatmeal sitting at the table. It wasn't until I was sitting in her lap that I noticed how incredibly there, she was. Like the sun being turned on, if it was connected to a switch, I was aglow with happiness. I just wanted to be close to her and amuse her. Other people in the room where vying for my attention, but she was the only one there to me.

It was pleasant to have been visited by her and spent a few moments in a dream wrapped in her arms.



Yesterday morning Tuki and I got into an argument. It's affect was me arriving two minutes late to class. I smiled some secret wicked smile as I entered the room to find my name written on a board, along with other names, creating a list of 'late students.' If my mood wasn't already set, this certainly changed it. I was humored by the act.

The instructor, none other then Mr. Compositor himself, that failed to enlighten us, last term about a program's automatic compression, must have been grinning wildly inside when I entered the room. He went through a three or five minute lecture on something. Something....

He ended it with, "But it's not very useful, since the projects you all are working on, aren't in groups."

More people trickled in after his lecture. Humpty Dumpty arrived nearly thirty minutes late, and was the fourth person to comment on my absence from the first day, "You missed the first day!" After many people scrambled to get their homework assignment printed out, Mr. Compositor decided it was time to collect it. Alphabetically I'm not the first listed, but I was certainly going to be the first called. So it was... I went up presented the assignment and then turned and left, as he read the lines on the back of his eyelids, "Looking forward to seeing it." I made sure Jack Frost was watching at me, as I walked back to my seat, I provided her with some entertainment, that sent her laughing wildly and me out of the room.

Lunch was weird. I talked Dexter into joining, Doof, Humpty Dumpty, Vomit Bag, Stinky and I, for lunch. There was conversation, but I didn't retain any of it. Like the whole day, I was there, but I wasn't and being there was weird.

Then there was Geometry. I'm going to call the instructor Mini Skirt, that's what she was wearing. I took a little pick me up before the class, and couldn't stop myself from staring at the bottom of her short tight skirt. She had on an off the shoulder stripped shirt and a black ultra mini, mini skirt with black tights. If her ass was a little flatter the skirt may have been able to cover it.

My mind wasn't on her, though my eyes had trouble leaving, and I floated through the class in my own thoughts of other people in other situations, having other lives, probably not thinking of me.

Today, I wonder about Oatmeal.

It's now June 16, 2009.  This was the second entry in my livejournal.  I don't keep a livejournal any more, for a lot of reasons.  One of them is this post.  When I wrote the line about Oatmeal, regarding how "incredibly there" she was, my frame of mind was to be spooky.  I knew it was all just a dream...   

I thought it was all just a dream...  

 

Reason Why I Support Unions

I've never been in a union (worker's union that is) but my sister has been part of the L.A. Teacher's Union since the 80s. One day, my dad and I were at the dinner table when my sister walked up. I asked her if she was about to go on strike (this was YEARS ago, at least eight) and she nodded yes. On a sudden whim, I turned to my father and asked him what he thought about unions.

My father was very curt if he spoke in English. Part of it is that his English just wasn't good. Part of it was just his nature. He didn't waste words if he had to - a good explanation for why we didn't really communicate. I talked too much and I could never get enough out of him so why bother. I do wonder if he ever thought about how everything about him and I were about missed opportunities.

Anyway, this marked one of the rare times I asked my father his opinion. Since this more concerned Ka, my sis (Ka is my nickname for her) I had no qualms about asking him his opinion. Usually if my dad shared his thoughts, it seemed (to me) to signify disapproval.

This exchange certainly proved no different. He signified his disapproval by grunting. (Oh Jeeze! I'm grunting like him now!) Both my sister and I turned to him in surprise. Since this was my sister, we had both expected him to be proud of her. (My sister was always my dad's princess but I shared his love of gadgetry plus I felt so guilty over my mom's overt preference of me I never minded her place with him.)

Dad just shrugged at us and said, "I'm management."

By the way, I loved how succinct my dad always were. With those two words, he explained where his stance was, why his stance was his stance, and why he never spoke about her being in the union and about to go on strike. My sister was about to explain to him where her position when she too realized just how vast his gesture of silence was. She just nodded at him and the subject of unions was never again brought up in his presence.

All this doesn't explain why I support unions but just gives a bit of family background.

The reason I support unions boils down to this: one day, I may be in a position to need a union and you know something? I want them to fight for me.

Almost forgot: the relevancy of this post? FedEx has just threatened to NOT buy US planes because of the possible passage of laws that make organizing easier.

They basically like being the behemoth to the sole worker.

Watching the Prop 8 Debate

Reactions:

9:20 - Ut oh, is that the best we can do?
9:30 - Are the judges trying to get the specific answers they want?
9:40 - Will the judges let them finish a sentence?
11:30 - I have a sinking feeling about this.
11:45 - (time skewed cause I put it on pause) WTF? Ken Starr is saying we're not invalidating the marriages, we're just not recognizing them and by not recognizing them, they're now invalid. But we're not invalidating them. FUCK YOU Ken Starr.

She's Doing Okay

I've noticed someone coming on this site, who cares really deeply about Bratworse. I know she's incommunicado with a bunch of you, but that's just where her state of mind is right now. She's doing okay - keeping really busy with many art projects and other stuff.

If you're coming on here to read my writings or hers, great! But if you're coming on here cause you're concerned, I just wanted to ease your concerns. :)

Don't worry, I'll take good care of her - we know how to communicate even if sometimes that communications requires screaming. *grins*

Her biggest concern right now is that the State of California might null and void our marriage.

You CAN Teach an Old Dog New Tricks

My mother just called to apologize for last night's phone call saying she was upset at losing her glasses and she took it out on me.

I'm trying to pick my jaw off the ground. This old back just takes its time bending nowadays.

God Gave Me TWO Daughters

Called Mom today just cause. After her greeting, she told me it was okay that I wasn't coming to visit her for Christmas. "Oh?" I asked while thinking since when was I asking permission not to visit?

"Oh yes," she said almost triumphantly. "God gave me TWO daughters."

A soft snicker escaped me despite my best efforts. "I'm glad you're thinking that way, Mom."

"Yes, so you go and stay in Oakland. I've got two daughters."

"Yes Mom."

As I hung up the phone, I found myself counting the minutes until next week when I surprise her on Thanksgiving. Part of me is being pure Chinese and thinking, Oh, so you're going to look down on me, eh? Well, I'll show you.

Trust me, it sounds *much* better in Chinese.

Prop. 8

I've been looking at Idealist ever since this proposition was called, asking her why?

Numb with shock at what happened. It's been hard for me to understand.

Months into our marriage certificate and we're reminded just how much a dream it is. I had a really difficult day, cliched bittersweet. Proposition eight passed, they interrupted my dream. I cried on the phone to Idealist, to Verve, to Vito, as they expressed love, embarrassment and support. Then alone, rubbing my eyes to make sure I was really seeing what I was seeing. They were there, willing to hold my hand, to let me know that even though I have to check 'other' in a lot of cases, it's okay.

I'm still loved, and I don't know about everyone else, but all I want is to spread happiness in a way that makes me happy to. I am so thankful and in love with the people that love and support me. They remind me when I most need reminding that I'm not alone, they're right there with me. Accepting and inspiring the way I dream.

Doomed for Divorce

So, this past week, I went to see my mother. While there, after she had told me what I was doing wrong with my life one too many times, we had one of our fights.

The fights go like this.

Me: Hear me Mom, this is what I need.
Mom: Why should I hear you? You just hear what you want to hear anyway.
Me: Well, that's cause when it's all you hear, how can I hear any different?
Mom: You, you, you. You only talk about you.
Me: I only start talking about me when I feel like you're not hearing me.
Mom: Well that's all you talk about. That's what's wrong with you.
Me: Argh. Stop telling me what's wrong with me. I only talk about me when you can't hear me.

And on and on it goes, until my mother goes too far and draws blood. Only then, will she back off and start hearing.

What did she say this time that went too far?

She told me I should never marry, that if I marry anyone, it's doomed for divorce anyway, so why bother going through the motions?

Don't I just have a warm cuddly mother?

Can you see it?

Bratworse was in Florida, visiting her grandparents' property and taking a nice stroll around the premises. Along the walk, she spotted this next to her sister.



What? You can't see it? Here, let us highlight it for you.

There, is that any better?






No?

Okay, we'll go closer up. Any better?





Still no, eh?

Okay how's this? We've pulled closer up.






Yes! There it is.

Yes, that was a hidden snake next to her sister, and Bratworse managed to spot it from about fifteen feet away. She called it a "pygmy rattlesnake."

Okay, if you still can't see it, click on the picture. Click on any of the photos and you'll get a bigger photo.


Here, let me show you again how far away it was.

Stress Points

I'm visiting my family tonight for my sister's 50th birthday and well, I am totally stressed out over it. Bratworse came home last night (Yay!) but she's really pissed at me for some reason and I've no idea why. Plus on top of that, my asthma's been acting up again and that's been stressing me out a lot. I can feel bags under my eyes, I want nothing better than to crawl under my desk and curl up next to the heater and sleep. Work isn't that stressful but walking in today, I was met with immediate incompetence on the part of a carrier (any surprise?) which meant I had some explaining to do, with a client.

I'm so tired of having to be clenched all the time. I'm clenched most of the time now due to the asthma and not being able to breathe and clenched most of the night because I wake up with my lungs filled. When that happens, I want to stay in bed until the hacking is over but I think I'm going to have to brave the cold with a blanket so Bratworse can sleep in. It's just not fair that two have to suffer due to one. When I was a kid, I couldn't stop my mother from suffering along with me, but now that I'm an adult, I should be able to stop Bratworse.

Gods, watch. I'm going to go visit my mother, and she's going to be all nice and worried and then BAM! Suddenly out of the blue, she's going to get pissed for no reason and everyone will have to walk on eggshells around her for a while. I hate this.

The Note Fairy Came! The Note Fairy Came!!!!

When I was a wee li'l girl, my amah sat me on her knee and told me all about the Note Fairy. Ah Lan Tseh said, "Chue Mui, if you're very very lucky in this life, you will get visited by the Note Fairy. The Fairy only comes if you are missing a person in your life that loves you more than life and that person has left for parts unknown to you, in a strange and distant land. This person will offer the Note Fairy food, money, bribes and if the Note Fairy is in a good mood, the Note Fairy will then offer that person chances to take notes on their behalf."

Well, last night, after I had worked half a day without hearing from Bratworse, I reached into the refridgerator and lo and behold, the Note Fairy had brought me a note from her. The note read, "Happy Drinks for my love."

Later that night, when I was suffering with pains in my tummy (I have IBS. Do not get IBS unless you are prepared to spend about 1/20th of your life sitting on the toilet), I reached for the book I was reading and a note fluttered out. Again, words of love and missing me sought my eyes.

This morning, I reached for my underwear and another note graced my fingers!

Thank you Note Fairy! Thank you for bringing words from my wife to me.

"Burn..."

Yesterday, L.A. had an earthquake of 5.8. Somewhere in downtown L.A., Danceteach was stuck in a building which had to be inspected for damage before they'd let anyone out. During the time of imprisonment, Danceteach texted me his complaints and told me how the rollers in the building exacerbated feelings to the point where people screamed. I forgot to ask what floor he was on.

I blame Danceteach for the following.

At 6 this morning, my mind dreamt this. Oh, I do so love my mind sometimes.

Bratworse and I were in San Francisco, in a building somewhere. We split up and I went to go find the person whom I was supposed to be meeting. Along the way, my dream-self ran into some people I was hoping to avoid, but of course in dreams, we HAVE to run into them. As I said my goodbyes to them, an earthquake struck.

Flashforward (as dreams do). I'm in a hallway, surrounded by pushing people. I'm looking for Bratworse, my panic increases.

Flashforward again. I'm spilling out into the streets with throngs of people, screaming out her name when I look across the street and there she is, standing with two people and waving at me.

Flashforward again. I'm by her side. Turns out the two people by her side are my mom and her sister, my aunt. Funny how in dreams you don't question such obvious contradictions... Bratworse wouldn't be able to pick my mom out of a crowd I think. I'm looking around frantically for what to do next when I see a HUGE ASS LINE across the street and policemen are trying to get people to go to the back of the line.

"I think that line's for the Bay Bridge." I gesture to the three of them.

My aunt waves a hand, "You go ahead. I'm not going to make it."

My mother starts harumphing and saying, "If that's what she wants, let her."

"Come on," I urge, "We'll be with you the whole way. Just..." Right then, out of the corner of my eye, I see a caucasian duck into an alley, carrying a bundle of satiny clothes. That's strange, I thought to myself as I urge my aunt more.

Just as I get my aunt to her feet and I point out to her how far the line's dwindled (There was actually no line to speak of at this point), I notice the caucasian emerge from the other end of the alley, wearing priest vestments and holding a picket sign. He starts yelling out something about gays and lesbians....

And my dream-mind snaps.

There was just an earthquake. I have Bratworse with me. I have two crotchety, stubborn 70 something year old ladies (and I use the terms loosely) who have spent their entire lives one-upping each other and arguing, with me. We have to walk like 20 miles to try and get to safety. And this guy... this guy wants to get in my face and tell me my lifestyle caused this earthquake.

I pick up a stick and start chasing the guy, just as other fags and dykes and queers around me do. I run after this "priest" and as I hurl my stick at the fleeing figure, I scream out "BURN IN HELL!"....

only to find out I screamed out in real life "BURN...." and managed to suppress "in hell" in time to stop from really waking up Bratworse.

I sit up in bed, pissed and wheezing. Only then did I realize my brain concocted this whole thing to get me to wake up and adjust my body temperature to stave off an asthma attack.

Wedding Feast

So after the quick nuptials, Bratworse and I head back... stupidly (and yes, it was MY idea) ... to Apple and wandered in line again. This time, there was a really obnoxious parent behind me, who made sure to let his kid know how much of a sacrifice he was making to stand there in line. What a huge difference in parenting methods. Earlier that morning, we had experienced one cool parent. Now we were subjected to the braying of this asshole. I wanted to apologize to the kid and say, not all of us adults are asshats like his dad. But... it was none of my businesss.

After close to three hours and after both of my calves cramped up in the stiff wind, I told Bratworse, let's get out of here. I was exhausted and we still had a dinner to go to.

Bratworse was an angel throughout this whole ordeal of the iphones. Me, not so much.

E&B had gotten us this wonderful wonderful Japanese hotel room with japanese baths and so we checked in, and got ready for dinner. Gorgeous G was the first to show, then Ranger Robb and her girlfriend, Playwright. So after, Ditzy and her husband showed up, then Ol' Time Hippie showed up with her new (and hopefully permanent cause we all approve!) gf. Lastly, Writerboy showed up, sans wife. *sniff* Writerboy's wife was home sick unfortunately.

Writerboy kindly took a picture of the whole table but I wish he was in it as well.

Much fun was to be had by all, and it was a good night.

Oh... iPhones? Yeah, we did get two... on Sunday.

Wedding Photos

So, were you wondering how the big day went?

July 11, 2008 will go down in infamy, I believe for the Cholotto Family.

First off, we went hoofing it down to the Apple store at 7:00 for the 8:00 Apple Store opening for our new iphones. Well, we found out the people at the front of the line got there at 5:00 am. Thus we were about the 200th people in line. By the time the store opened, the line had doubled.

During the course of the next few hours, we met a VERY VERY cool lady and her 15 year old son. This lady took a day off work to help her son purchase an iphone. She's also part of a local Berkeley band AND a geologist working in environmental conservation. Too cool. Wish I got her name. We also noted that the Apple store was eerily like Hotel California that day. You saw people entering but few leaving. AND the few that left that morning, none of them looked remotely elated. Strange we thought. We also found out that having cool people in line with you, just makes the process that much happier.

At 11:00 with about 30 people still in line, we decided that there was no way we could get out of the store in time to get married at the pre-ordained time, so with heartfelt congratulations ringing in our ears as we left, we made our way to the Alameda Clerk's office to pick up a license.

My dear friend who has known me since I was 17 was the person officiating at our wedding. Doesn't he look handsome? And to think, this man was a scrawny scrawny boy in his teens.

Well, after we got the license, (timing was perfect!) our best people, E&B showed up with their two children. All of us walked in a general direction and before long, a lake appeared before our eyes. "Let's get married at the lake!" so we all tromped over there. Over the next half an hour, we laughed, cried, hugged, took pictures and signed papers.

Look at how happy we all look.
To be continued.

Welcome to the Grand Illusion

See this freaky funky thing? Cool, eh? Bratworse did that... with a teeny tiny tad of art direction from yours truly. It's a picture of a neuron. The purple moving flashes are supposed to be thoughts.

If you want to see more, come visit her new site, WestinaMation where she shows off her recently acquired skills. See, she's about to graduate so she's got a website and demo reel put together.

Come check it out. She's done some really neat stuff there.

Oh, and if you're in the medical field or science/scientific field, please do check this out. Bratworse is hoping to do animations for labs and presentors and documentaries.

Can you tell I'm just a wee bit proud of her?

Congrats

How easy is that to say?

Apparently, to a Chinese, even one that broke rules like being the first in our generation to get a divorce, one that got married to a *gasp* Mexican (My mother reluctantly attended her wedding), "Congrats" is a hard word to say.

I was telling my sister about the upcoming nuptials after about 20 minutes conversing with her about her life when she suddenly said, "I have to go." After hanging up, Bratworse turns to me and asked, "Did she even say 'Congrats?'" I scratched my head, thinking back. "No.... no, I don't think she did."

Ah, family. And people wonder why I love sappy movies so much. Watching them, I have some glimmer of hope that there really are people out there who care about their siblings or children to listen.

Listening is an outdated artform.