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Drawing While Intoxicated

Post mini-argument drunk drawing at Ding Dong Lounge…

5:13AM and

I think I’m homesick. Naw… I know I am.

Torment of the Aquarius

I wanted to get my mom some fresh roses. I always do. Want to that is. I always want to do a lot of things. Man if I could’ve accomplished all the things I wanted to, I’d be the most popular guy in the world. I’d be a hermit too though. Like a crab when things get to be too much. I’d have a couple of degrees under my belt but no official title. I’d speak a few different languages. And a man who lost the Madonna and Child pendant that once belonged to his deceased mother, would have his priceless heirloom back. I wish I could find it for him. I do. And I wish… you know what I’m done with wishes. I used to adore the magic of breath upon an eyelash, a dandelion. Lit candles upon a cake. Anymore I just want to appreciate the magic of reality, of sobriety. That even though I have so much more to do and have failed all the more, I’m back again by the ocean. I’m a water bearer after all and rumor has it I pour heavy. A bee stung me once when I was a kid. I was trying to swat it away on the playground at school. I remember the red of it upon my open palm. The itch that kept me up at night and how my mother smiled warmly as she kissed my forehead and rubbed sticky, fresh and green aloe vera goo upon the irritation to sooth me. It helped. I hated that bee though, with all the raw little kid emotion I could muster up and yet I wanted at the same time to use the magic powers that I truly believed I had, to traverse the flow of time and turn that bee into a wasp. Because when a wasp stings a kid it goes on sleek and smug to sting again, but when a bee stings all we are left with is a beautiful reminder of the ephemerality of its flight.

Serving Streep

Went to see Iron Lady last night. We haven’t been to the movies together in a long time. 50 something dollars later at the Regal Cinemas at Union Square I realized that what was happening between me and my boyfriend was a good old-fashioned date. And then what we thought was going to be an interesting biopic about a hair due turned out to be quite the love story. Oh Meryl.

Field tripped

The BF took me to the American Museum of Natural History today. In the Irma and Paul Milsten Family Hall of Ocean Life I saw giant squids, beautiful barnacles and a blue whale floating motionless above groups of children who looked up in awe. Though I circled the exhibit a few times just to make sure, I never did come upon a taxidermied mermaid.

Clairvoyance

Eye roller

My little brother never ceases to crack me up. His sense of humor may push some boundaries, but that’s also what has always kind of impressed me about him. Here’s his latest little work of snark. Let us know what you think.

Dude, seriously

Sometimes Xinthia, I go to bed at night, after a long day of moving stuff around town, cleaning, packing, and tying up lose ends, I close my eyes, drift off into a soft slumber… and I wake up suddendly from the sharp pang of oh-shit-edness that pierces my little chest and I think “how are we going to pull this off by August 31st?”

HOW?!

But we always do don’t we? We’ll be there about a week and a few days after that.

Instagram love

I’ve been getting lost on the Instagram app lately. Posting some photos. Lots of drawings and doodles. And I’m up to 78 followers. Anyway it helps me relax. Whipping something up and posting it. Instagrammers make a nice social media community too. Well I like what I’ve done so far so I thought I’d share five random posts:

Herb

Um… I just had a conversation with a box. No joke. We, the BF, some friends and I, were walking by the Herberger theater. One of many the places I never got to enjoy. Like Alcatraz in San Francisco. Anyway the group is ahead of me, just by steps cause I’m lost in my iPhone (shame) and anyway I think I hear someone trying to get our attention. Only no on was there. But there was actually this little light box with a speaker, and what was at a second glance a lens no bigger than a button. And what did I hear? The close but distant sound of “hey you. Yeah you in the yellow shirt.” I didn’t even have to turn around to know that clearly I was the only dude in yellow. I got closer to the little box. He complimented me. He said my facial hair was just right. I try. So by then the group noticed that indeed I was talking to a little box upon the wall. And I asked if we were on TV. We weren’t. The Internet? Nope. Then what? Was there a party? Sorry. It was just the staff at the Herb doing some good old fashioned street marketing. They told us we should catch Hair Spray. Maybe we will. I told them they should check my blog.