I Will Have My Revenge

Happy Halloween!

Crappy Poetry

I have no delusions about the quality of my poetry. It is really bad, but I have a lot of fun with it because I don't even try to make it good.

My Wandermonster has wandered away,
And bid of me that I should stay,
And partake of things that give me cheer,
So far away from he who's dear.

But bright Nintendo makes me glum,
And reading books is simply dumb,
So what remains can only be,
Writing Nick bad poetry.

This only goes to show what a poetical bad-ass Bava is.

Nerd, ho!

Guess who just got featured on the home page of a gaming community?

Stuck with your (Parking) Lot

'My car's not working.'

'Are you serious?'

'Yes.'

I was smiling. It really didn't do much for my credibility.

It was the like blind leading the blind. Here I was, picking Walker up from work because his car hasn't been starting, and my car won't start. I turned the key, and the car let out a smug 'RRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!'

We called Nick. We watched a half-dead wasp struggle against a swarm of ants. We talk in the car, and Walker tells me my ex is glad I'm happy. I like to think the reason he can't keep a girlfriend is because I'm incomparable. At this point, I only resent him for never saying 'sorry,' but I still resent him. It's sweet of him to wish me well, but at the same time It galls me that he shows neither jealousy nor regret. I am a petty creature.

Nick arrived and jump started my car. (Yay Nick!) I was so relieved that it was just my battery. Then, he suggested we all get food but didn't tell me I was supposed to pay for everyone, and I had to use the money I was saving to buy a new pair of boots. Wait.... What?!

A Life in Subtitles

I was reading this interview with Gael Garcia Bernal when he made this response to one of the questions:

"...Every time I see a film [that takes place] in Mexico, with people speaking English, I just think, "Why?" If they can speak in Spanish, why do you have to compromise the culture and language? The fact of doing it in English just makes it very lame and naive."

'Yes!' I thought. Why do they do that? I watched Frida a few days ago, and I found it disconcerting to hear all these people speaking in accented English while supposedly living in Mexico. At one point they go to New York, and they are still speaking English, but I wonder, 'Is she actually speaking Spanish while everyone around her is speaking English, and no one actually understands each other?' Regardless of that annoyance, it seemed to miss something because it was in English. It lost credibility, it lost sincerity, it lacked something vital to a culture: language.

'Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon,' 'Hero,' 'Amilie,' and 'Y Tu Mamá Tambien' have proven that enough of the American population is willing to 'brave' a subtitled movie for it to do well, so I really hope more directors will direct films in different languages. I think I'm also pretty excited at the possibility of more foreign films making it to US theaters. They come with their own flavor and style, and I really love that diversity.

No Candy

I do the shopping for my office, and one of the one of the guys, JFK, told me I wasn't allowed to buy candy anymore (because almost everyone is trying to eat healthier, and I ruin it my buying miniature wrapped snickers. He walks into the kitchen right after I've put away a bunch of candy, and I'm standing there with a giant fist full of empty candy bags, so I jedi mind-trick him a la 'these are not the droids you're looking for' and tell him I didn't buy any candy.

'Ok, good' he says, and begins to turn to leave when he spots the big tub of candy on the counter. 'Hey, what's that?! he asks, looking surprised. Then, he points it finger at me and say 'You're going to hell. You know that don't you?' I thought it was pretty funny, especially since he was oblivious to the bounty of candy bags overflowing from the cornucopia that was my hand.

I don't think he caught the Star Wars reference. So sad.

Don Juan de Libros

As much as I lament over the tremendous quantities of books and games I own but have yet to read or play, I find I spend more time browsing books and scanning game reviews than actually reading and playing. I guess I just love the chase.

Yesterday I sat myself down and played five hours worth of Mario & Luigi: Superstar Saga. I am a gaming force to be reckoned with.

Mass. Debater

The problem with watching all three presidential debates is that it becomes tiresome hearing the same points mentioned time and again as the candidates attempt to capture the votes of first time viewers by largely ignoring the actual questions. Regardless, I'm glad I watched them, particularly the first one, as it was especially amusing. Now I just have to hope that my registration card arrives, that I have been listed at my polling place, that nothing unforeseen happens to prevent me from getting there, that my vote isn't miscounted or thrown out... not that I think it'll will matter, as Bush is almost guaranteed to win Texas. Oh, to live in a swing state.

I made up that title just because I could. Oh, sweet power.

ps. Natural lighting is the best, even when you can see up my nose.

En recuerdo de Zoilo Ibañez

Someone posted in their blog about their grandfather dying this past week, and it made me sad. I always think wistfully about my abuelo Zoilo. He died when I was young, but I remember a few things about him.

I went to Colombia when I was about seven, and I remember sitting beside him in my pjs outside while he peeled coconuts with a machete. I remember how he would make me sing Yankee Doodle, and he'd sing along with me. He liked to speak to me in English, though his accent was strong and his vocabulary rough. I think it made him proud that I was an American, and that I was fluent in English.

He fled to the United States from Spain during the Franco Dictatorship, along with his brother and a friend. He settled in California, but his brother and friend decided to start a business that involved allot of travel to Colombia. The two grew sick there, and my grandfather followed them to bring them back, but he was too late. He grew sick instead, and suffered from a brief stint of amnesia. My grandmother, who was training to become a nun at the time, nursed him back to health. Needless to say, he never returned to America, though he always wanted to, but he sent all four of his children.

My mom tells me he was very stern, but also very sensitive, and easily touched. She says he wrote poetry, and that there are loose sheets of it about. A few years ago, I remembered this, and I thought it would be so nice if I could gather it all and get it bound in a book for my mom as a Christmas or birthday present. But, the more I think of it, the more I want it for myself. I just wish someone knew where it all was.

Cutest Kid, Ever

Me! That's right. That's me, and I'm just freakin' adorable here in my little flamenco dress. ¡Olé!

Campus Crawl

I drove down to San Antonio this weekend to visit my parents, and I stopped by Trinity University on a whim. I don't think I've ever felt so confused driving in such a familiar area. I guess it's because I didn't get my driver's license until after I graduated.

I forgot how ugly San Antonio is. Just about every part of town looks like the bad part of town. Of course there are exceptions. Trinity has the largest gardener to student ratio of an school in the nation.


I stopped by the campus Study Abroad office, where I used to work, too. They love love love me there. I think it's because I used to tease them.


Visiting my parents didn't turn out so bad. My dad only had a few beers, and he barely lost his temper. I helped him with a few projects around the house, which I think put him in a good mood. My mom and I had a pretty good talk. She kind of lectures allot, because she doesn't want me to make the same mistakes she has, and she hasn't really given my boyfriend a chance because she thinks I'm ignoring the lessons she's been trying to teach me.

I explained to her that the one most important thing that I think I've learnt from her relationship with my dad is to find someone who is a friend who shares common interests, and that you can talk to. My parents hardly do anything together, and have next to nothing in common. This was never something she talked to me about, but when I told her, I think she realized the importance, so hopefully she'll be more open to him, now. Plus, I told her how he's going back to school, and really trying his best, which is what she was most concerned about.

Nothing's Coming Up Roses

I finished my little project last night.

Bad Coffee

I had to get gas on my way to work, so I bought some coffee at the gas station. (It's a shame it wasn't actually in a mug, because that would have been funny. Come on...Mug shot?) I really don't know why I was suprised about it being so bad, because I've tried their hot chocolate. Congratulations, Gas Station, on beating even my lowest expectations!

I feel like I should put something else in here, but nothing's really been going on. I watched Elephant yesterday, and I thought they did a good job at conveying a surreal experience by not focusing on one event more than any other. I'd like to say more, but I'd hate to ruin it for anyone that hasn't seen this yet.

I've also decided to put an actual effort into doing art again. I set it aside about five years ago, and feels like I've forgotten everything I once knew. I picked up some acrylic paint and a canvas a few days ago and just set to it. It left me feeling really frustrated and lost. Hopefully I can pick up a book sometime soon to give me some direction.

Coffee, Coffee Everywhere, but Not a Drop to Drink.

I started out my morning with a fresh cup of coffee... all over the counter, seeping to the space below, and puddling on the carpet. The coffee maker was on, a combination of fresh coffee and grounds steadily dripping from the overflowing basket, and the carafe sat clean and pristine on the opposite counter. I fetched JFK and we had a good laugh at my boss, who looked pretty embarrassed.

Last night I went with Walker and Nick to his parents house to watch the presidential debate and then the Daily Show. I actually had a pretty good time, and am glad I went. Nick's mom cooked everyone chicken katsu, miso soup, and a few other things which were all really good.

Nick and Walker got into an 'argument' about the Brady Bill afterwards. It just wows me when Nick argues because I just can't think on my feet like he can. I don't know how anyone can spit out coherent and valid arguments on a moments notice like that. I think it's really impressive. I first met him in my dorm at college. Walker had brought him over to meet me, but I wasn't home yet. I walked in and there's this gorgeous guy in my room; He starts talking to me about philosophy, a little drunk and years from his last philosophy class, but so ontop of it all despite. I felt flushed. I don't think I'd ever been so instantly awed by anyone like that.