attend school in a really outlandish place like Sydney, Australia when your parents live somewhere really ridiculous like Plano, Texas. this works perfect especially since you wont get any sleep for at least 24 hours straight, and will have to go through several security checkpoints, and deal with real-world creepies while in a very well-maintained, very drunken, drugged, and sedated state at all moments. alone.
do not sleep the night before, maintaining a semi-hungover wakeful state that will vary in drunken stupour in a plane-ride dependent status
have a ginger tea four hours before boarding
allow plenty of fuck-up time when making way to airport
order a silver cab, but take the wilder red, pimped out fluffball because its closer to the corner where youre standing
make friends with the cracked out driver, give him the directions, and then end up teaching him how to use googlemaps on his ifone while getting lost in midmorning traffic
still make it early to airport to pick up food and transport allowance from western union because you lost your bank card and ur hella broke. also because the other airline you have to take will charge u for luggage since its 2010
bring a friend with you who cant afford the cab ride because you need him / her to stay in the car while you waste meter time in obtaining the cash somewhere reaaaaaalllly deep in the airport shopping mall
spend 1/3 of ur allowance paying off the driver, while arguing with him that he should at least share some of the drugs he’s taken during his working hours. yes, you are probably still drunk from popping so much champane last night before the futbol game.
check in at ticket counter and learn that the second 1/3 of ur allowance has to pay for half of ur luggage… they never told you that in this particular airline you are only allowed one free piece
call ur father in mild desperation because the last 1/3 of the allowance will be spent on more luggage moving around drama.
throw ifone on the ground, killing it with the smash because your slightly drunk father just told u u were too much drama to deal with and hung up on you
scare the shit out of the counter lady, who creates a more fucked up situation at the gate that will be told later
spend the last $15 on a beer and a glass of champagne with your friend. while chatting on his / her blue-screen nokia with both parents who have realized that their daughter may just be in some discomfort and obtain all of the flight information necessary for the next airports. one day of no food will not kill you, they say.
beer does the job, and calms down the spirits through the security checkpoint. at this point, with all things considered, you have 9 minutes before the plane takes off. piece of cake? this place cant be that confusing. airports are meant to facilitate transport……. and then u realize youre in Sydney, the birthplace of the shopping mall. it takes 10 minutes to run through the duty-free maze and 2 more to figure out that the person at the gate holding the old school fone receiver has actually been paging you personally because youre late, and soon he tells you that although you are there before the plane door is closed, he is going to ngaf and close it in your face.
sit on the ground at the gate and draw lots of pictures while someone claims to fix your problem
follow a dude named chris to another counter and get scolded for everything any other bitch has ever done, and as usual, in a very soft voice explain what has actually happened, and that you need a way to call your parents.
lots more drama. then give counter chris your parents movil #s and pass out on a bench for about an hour and a half
be woken up by counter chris with a printout of a handwritten letter signed by your mother, and receive orders to obtain boarding pass in another hour.
go back to bench to sleep again
wake up with a homeless dude chillin on the other side and wonder what the fuck is a homeless dude doing at the gate and then realize the shopping cart is his luggage. your camera fone is dead remember?
pretend its a hallucination and warm yourself in the bathroom with the hand dryers for a long time
get into another drama with the new counter lady Michiko because the previous check-in lady has warned about my violent, ifone shattering, outburst. but in the end, there is no basis for drama so the issue is dropped and receive your boarding passes.
at least now you are clear for the next two rides
blow bubbles while waiting for boarding
board plane to Auckland, you are lucky enough to have three seats to yourself, so take a very interrupted nap for two and a half hours. eat a vegan meal with red wine. ignore the aging dyke with tourette’s sitting in front.
wonder why everything regarding New Zealand has to do with kiwis until reaching the next gate. get really confused again and be the last person boarding the plane again
board plane to LAX, realize youre aisle surrounded by senior citizens, rail half a diazepam, spend a long time putting on eyeliner, then attempt a nap while covered by a blanket from head to toe. get tapped on the elbow by the lady behind and ignore her.
get your vegan meal first because youre so special, and subsequently annoyed by the surrounding seniors who do not understand your sense of space and get curious
attempt another nap and get tapped by lady behind again. have a mild argument with annoying lady
“ghrgnrca something something… !!!”
“i’m sleeping. please dont bother me.”
“uhgs vs svuns sbhdnkglh……!!!!!!!” :: tap tap tap ::
“i’m sorry, but i did not design the infrastructure of this plane which causes all these annoyances and disparities. noone forced you to prefer economy.”
(lady seeks out flight attendant) “her seat is too far back!” (all of the seniors chime in collectivelly)
(to flight attendant) “they’ve been annoying me all day!!! please help me i am only trying to sleep “
awesome flight attendant moves you immediately next to the cutest little boy ever, have no neighbours in front, behind, or beside.
ask for rum and diet coke, obtain a triple shot with coke, and dilute with diet coke. at least youll get to play with cups and ice and liquids for a bit
intoxicate yourself to sleep.
wake up, rail 1/4 diazepam, and intoxicate to sleep again after joking around with flight staff about the neverending ride
wake up and have breakfast, the male flight attendants have caught on and dispose of all remaining alcohol before full consciousness. they have continuously been waking you up to offer water that you also keep rejecting. WATER FROM PLASTIC?????? WTF.
regain world domination by applying makeup correctly, and finishing the entire breakfast serving minus the cereal.
arrive at lax, collect your luggage in a record half an hour somehow among the sea of bags lined up everywhere, and then walk your ass all the way from terminal 2 to terminal 4 in the hot heat after spending at least an entire hour trying to figure out where the domestic side of the airport resides
check in, drop bags at x-ray, and blow plenty of bubbles while standing in security checkpoint line. also get bumped continuously by the semi-cute dudes standing behind you. they just wont ever get your attention. the best part becomes when the 1/3 allowance remaining for luggage since the flights were not actually connected gets waived by a really nice check-in counter dude probably named chris or john. win!
so now you can eat a salad with lots of guacamole and a black bean patty, and excess lemon juice at Chili’s as well as sip on a tall glass containing a double shot of Knobb creek with soda water AND NO ICE. ask the person next to you the time because all your electronics are out of comission and there are no clocks anywhere. feel strange becauce you have probably never had to ask a stranger for the time. relax because you have a couple more layover hours to kill. you did try to find a $10 prepaid movil everywhere in the terminal, but failed.
draw and color some more
board plane to DFW, rail the last bit of diazepam, reapply eyeliner, pass the f out for the entire ride. trip out when waking up because the dude sitting to your right is reading a book and also looks EXACTLY like a fat version of your oldest brother who does not ever fly out of LAX to DFW because he’s just got a different map. pretend its another hallucination again and find it very amusing!
eat a bag of salted peanuts while waiting for the luggage and then take it outside where your mother arrives driving your father’s truck.
although your cat will run out of the house to play with all the other kittehs as soon as you arrive, things are ok because your father actually made tiraditos ceviche style specially for you, to enjoy with a blue moon beer and melon for dessert.
wonder for the rest of the holiday how it became possible that you ever ate Oporto’s, Macca’s, Sweet Chilli anything, arnott’s cookies, and Tim Tam icecream to the degree that it was all normal.
A time in a womyn’s life came where she had to decide where to take her persona to become. It so happened in the spring of 2008, when Vatalina took over Catalina’s entire life for a week, including Cata’s birthday to give herself birth into human form. Though her presence was momentary, her memory lasts and will be incarnated as a guerrilla performance installation artist this fall.
Many wonder what will become of Vatalina, will her Vato ever make it out of jail? She said she loves his letters. Especially the one with the toothbrush tattoo of her name on his chest. That one is beautiful!! Her cholo wrote her “i tried writing on my heart, but the ink kept smudging.” So apparently he closed his chest back up, glued the skin back together and got to work. It’s notable he strayed from the gothic lettering and totally bubble lettered that mess making it look just so tyt!!!!
Vatalina said that the conjugal visit she fought didn’t get her pregnant, so she’s getting bored now and started to try doing stuff. She also says that she saw the judge’s pee-pee but it just wasn’t worth it to try and get another visit if it now meant having to bone two dudes.
I say OHMY!
So anyways. I guess that is a Chola lifestyle. This is the proudest vata I have encountered so far. GADDAMN.
Vatalina is coming back, she is feeling NYC this fall, and she said to me that she hopes the weather will be nice during her stay.
HORARIO:
—————————————————————————————
Interesting to note that in the situation changed from an academic environment to a busy-street environment the amount of race and gender harassment increased greatly………………….. I am shocked by a lot of the dangerous behaviour to which I unknowingly exposed myself……….. Fashion district as previously experienced in other cities of the world – Santiago, Lima, LA, Mumbai – has never before felt so dangerous and scary. The storeattendants were all cordial but outside was demoniacal to a deep degree?? S T R A N G E.
It was very similar to the rave experience, where the only way to get away from people filling ears up with drugtalk is to go buy a thing.
VATALINA 2008 was set on a university campus entirely, which gave way to much friendlier and positive interaction with the environment.
to start, hating tv isnt “way”
tv is definitely way though
ok so i have to explain myself and why i hate tv and why it is that i see no difference between the movie theatre, mall screens, traffic screens, home tv, and going to the homies to watch tv over there.
really, much like reading books, tv is about staring at a surface.
STARING AT A SURFACE
i have had some creaaaazy ass trips staring at blank space.
much more entertainning than staring at canned information
so i guess i hate tv and its tvness because it kills creativity?
well no.
i have some crazy ideas when i watch others peoples work created for mass absorption and regurgitation
sometimes my most brrilliant ideas come from analyzing that ish
but why dont i waste my time doing that?
well it will happen eventually.
or really, you want to watch tv for me and tell me what you see?
i actually like that much better
but this does not mean i have conversations about tv
thats sooo 2004 and its like far from there yo
why is it 2004? because i had this “bf< ?" dude who didnt believe me when i told him i watched tv
he was like YOU LIE and i was like wtf no
i used to watch tv w my parents when i was little. sometimes i did it with my nanny.
you know, its the american thing to do.
for the people that have read all the books they need to read and written all the papers that they need to write, and for those that definitely have made their time's and money's worth each day and really can leave all the laundry to the housekeeper and can totally even have the time to smoke a ciggie and drink some wine, since like life has been good and its time to relax. you know, the american thing to do is to waste learning time.
so i started coloring while watching tv. as a little girl. or constructing paper dolls or something
it was rare that i ONLY watched tv. i had to be reaaaallly sick (not ill ill but like watching tv at the hospital because my hands were full of needles) for that and even then i would rather daydream than watch cartoon netwrk reruns in english/portuguese/spanish/french/german all day
i guess it was kinda cool to watch the same cartoon in different languages... i guess thats how they test ratings / education levels?
but the news n shit? well thats different. thats not tv
news is that which you HAVE to watch or youll have to listen to it from the radio
and you dont want to be behind in the news!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
all the other toddlers will make fun of you for not staying current
well i havent really said anything about why i hate watching tv
or maybe i did
i dont know.
OOOOOOOOh its reality tv that i hate
well i dont really hate it
i love some shows
like those that korean people go on to sing songs and show off their amazing kid
those are SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO COOOOOOOOOL
but its way better on youtube
or maybe not. http://fattylinebacker.blogspot.com had a pretty nice post about the guitarplaying cutie
but my favorite all time is this little bitch:
Yoo Ee Yun
well i dont know if you can call this potential of any sort.. this kid just pours out love and talent nonstop and crstal clear! shes already there fosho
the message is still the same. loveway.
so ok. i highly doubt you’ve made it this far reading……………………………………… si im going to continue writing
instead of being born the shit, chileans tend to take a REALLY LONG TIME to make cool shit happen (alejandro jodorowsky, isabel allende, pablo neruda, gabriela mistral, catalina vallejos)
and somehow its always ridiculous and insightful fucked up?????? im amazed by this wtf??
yes, EVERY meal looks like that. the shape of the rice changes. my mom’s rice usually looked like this:
this is arroz con carne but como los chinos since its not a steak. just look at the rice. thats my rice.
can you imagine having a culture shock because the rice looks messy on the plate?? it was almost unedible at first.
like wtf? why is my rice NOT in a cute donutshape??????????????
some people like to put primavera on the rice so it looks like theres peas and corn in it, but really, there isnt. ok. maybe one or two peas in the whole donut and a piece of carrot here and there, but that shit really sucks. blank rice rules.
and awwwww little kids always using cutlery makes me feel whole especially as a secret hipster i tend to only use chopsticks with my food. my mom doesnt care though…. my dad forced us all to learn to eat cantonese food the cantonese way from day one. you know, the little rice bowl with the big metal bbq machine thing that will burn your eyelashes and the multiple glasses and messy dishes that require lots of napkin action that is in NO WAY related to dim-sum (sp?) (u need to check out zing-wha if u’re ever in concepcion. if its still there. its on chacabuco con anibal pinto? maybe closer to prat) its possible that im getting my shit confused. its been a while. but everything was either red or green lots of gold and hot ladies in mini skirts and lots of eyeliner to minimize the eyes since they always had a chinese girl shortage. OH and the most beautiful dragons ALL over the walls and pillars and immense tanks of exotic fish that stare and you can eat someday if your dad feels especially morbid.
i went to a frog restaurant next to the beach once and my brothers and i made our food race each other. i cant remember which beach. but my frog was FATTEST and could barely jump. when it did, it was the most powerful skip and totally blasted the other frogs and then one of them died because itBURST!
“
and then one of them died because itBURST!
