A Good List, Round Two

April 9, 2012

Numero 15: It’s a good thing I like mariachi music because I still have those songs from the polished turd dancing all around my head, a swirly fanfare looping and looping with all the other Paz and not so Paz monologues.

“Que vivan los novios, que viva el amor”

UMPRAPAPAPA!

BOOM BOOM CHUCKCH CHUCKCH! BOOM BOOM CHUCKCH CHUCKCHPARRURRURRUR! UMPA-RAPAPAP! UMPAPAP! PAP! Enter voilin solo–DEED-A-REED-DEED–and another trumpet roll. PARURRURRUR! BRAPAPAP!

And…

PAP! PAP!

“But why’d you have to leave like this? Are you at peace now? Please tell me you are. Yeah, you’re at peace. You’ve gotta be…Yeah, you better be you little prick… god…I miss you so much…damn you… you know I love you right? I love you so much…”

“Will I be able to finish it? Oh I can’t now, it’s been so long. She’ll never refer me to her friend for work now. Gaaah, gotta find work. Fuckin’ papers. Wonder if I should call Mansie about this, she did text me last week…”

“I am. I am. I am. I am. I am. I am. I am. I am. I am…”

“Just ignore. Just ignore that she does that and you better go eat now.”

“Alright, just focus. Why isn’t this opening!? Stupid editing programs and their fuckin’ glitches! Reconnect media, reconnect media! No! I don’t want to send an error message to Adobe. Why won’t you–Bargarghargh!”

“Que vivan los novios, que viva el amor, que viva el amor–” 

UMPRAPAPAPA! BOOM BOOM CHUCKCH CHUCKCHBOOM BOOM CHUCKCH CHUCKCHPARRURRURRUR! UMPA-RAPAPAP! UMPAPAP! PAP!” BOOM CHUCKUCHUCK! PARURRURRUR! BRAPAPAP!

“Que vivan los novios, que viva el amor, que viva el amor–” 

Numero 16: I’m not even going to try and describe what the pretty little demon’s monologues are like or how they yell over that fanfare above. But I will say that they’re somewhat hushed these last few day. So that’s why they’re number sixteen.

Numero 17: My arm is still pretty frail, still in a thermoplast splint but I’m able to type with two hands again: Tap-tap-tap tapity-tap tap tap! “Que vivan los novios, que viv–” 

Once that twisty, mangled bone is completely healed, I’ll regain strength and be able to doodle and pick up the ukelele again, the one L gave me nearly three years ago. Maybe I’ll join a mariachi band, you know, convince the band that a uke honed by a chick in a wheelchair would be fitting.

Numero 18: Living in Houston is like living in a stinky armpit. Spring lasts three weeks max and it’s hell’s heat from then on out. The salty and tangy smell from the Gulf of Mexico washes in along with its oppressive humidity. The humidity hits you like a sweaty wrestler clothes-lining you. As you slam onto the floor, his moist, ruffled pit cups you breathless.

Houston is being promoted as a “cultural” city. Ha! We do have a great mixture of ethnicities and people and cultures–we’re a melting pot–much like NYC (not at all), but cultural city it is not. And it is far from being urban.

If I were in charge of the city’s public relations, I’d make an ad campaign that reads: “Houston! Come on over and feel the South Texas heat! It’s like having a sweaty wrestler’s armpit stuck on your face or a breathy old waitress with halitosis leaning over too close to your nose! You’re only an hour away from Galveston beaches, where much of the oil has yet to settle!”

But (read: BUT) these short lived glory days of southern spring have been so pretty that they’re helping me with my mindfulness. I’ve tried my best to focus on the warmth of the sun; the green of the grass; the cool evening air that seeps in after the sky’s showers fall; the smell of the dew; the odor of skin, that burning smell it gets when it’s seen the sun too long; the heat, the suffocating heat, the itchiness from the mosquito bites, and the soft fur of Little Luna, soft like a rabbit.

Numero 19: I’m drinking tea instead of coffee. In fact I didn’t have coffee at all yesterday.

Numero 20: I drank a bottle of Heineken yesterday. It was during a barb’q one of my dad’s photographer friends had for Easter–this one isn’t the same one that gave me the turd; this one’s wacky, a bit of a drinker, tweaked-out and has cool younger friends who look up to my dad and tell the dirtiest jokes without being too chauvinistic about it (and these are all Colombian men in their late thirties or older fellas, people, rare thing to see them not being complete chauvinists).

Anyway, this wacked-out photographer friend always seems to want to get me drunk.

“Come on! So you’re not drinking anymore? Ever?”

“No, but right now I’m not.” I know that drinking in the current state I’m in will only lead to disaster. I don’t want a relapse of any kind.

“Are you worried that you’ll have another accident? You’re not going to have another accident” His girlfriend gives him a firm look. “What? She told me about it herself.”

I’d had a near near-death experience due to my drinking a couple of years ago and I didn’t recall telling him about it. I made some excuse about alcohol and my bone density being low and how alcohol isn’t good when you’re trying to build up bone density, which is true.

About an hour later though, I gave in and asked for a beer. I ended up having half of my mom’s beer too.

So what’s the good in this? Well, when I was asked if I wanted another, I firmly replied,”No thank you.”

And that was that.

Numero 21: In the past month, my brother and I have hung out more than we have in years! This evening, I helped him out with another wedding video–nope not getting paid for this one–but, he gave me a copy of a good CD, Florence and the Machine.

Numero 22: I seem to have a fan! A fan from Australia. I’ve been getting lots (by my marks) of views from down under (heehee) and I’m pretty sure it’s just one person.

Show yourself and I’ll reward you times three!

Numero 23: I started writing this post yesterday but got back too down and tired to finish, so instead I put it off and finally added things to my Shenanigans.

Numero 24: Last night was terrible, but I don’t feel quite as hopeless tonight, a little more hopeful even.

G’night. I’m out.

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6 Responses to “A Good List, Round Two”

  1. the howler and me said

    why is it that drinkers think getting drunk will solve all your problems??? ah well… I gave up drinking 4 years ago… best thing I ever did, for my health and my mental health…. even though some days, I REALLY miss a good beer.

    • clownonfire said

      Beer. Me too.
      Le Recovering Alcoholic Clown

    • PAZ said

      I don’t know why. This dude seems to try and get everyone drinking because he always is. He’s in denial.
      When I was younger, I used to stupidly think it would help me sleep. I don’t know how I managed to graduate high school and get through my first years of college. I gave it up in 2008–that’s when i had some sort of a near psychotic break and my bro called a psychiatric clinic on me–that’s when i went into the mental health system. I didn’t drink for a whole year, then I was at this party in Nov 2009 and had that infamous accident. I’ve been pretty good at not drinking since and though I’ve had the occasional beer, I have not touched hard liquor. I know if i would go on the way i was, i’d be more likely to end up checking out early like L did.
      What i don’t get is this dude trying to push me, ESPECIALLY after I supposedly told him how my accident happened. Bugh. Not cool. I didn’t accept anything last time we were there (when i still had my cast on), so he must of guessed he’d get me this time. And I did give in to the cold beer (turned out not to be that cold). I’m not going to beat myself up about it though; last time i had one was in August, so i’d say i’m keeping them sparse at least though I know that’s a very thin line I’m rolling on.
      My dad’s never been a real drinker so he doesn’t seem to get that it’s REALLY hard for me to be around so much booze. It’s like he doesn’t want to remember what happened to me a couple of years back.
      End rant.

      I’m glad you and Le Clown are so much better without it.
      xoxo
      🙂

  2. the howler and me said

    I still have a hard time being at parties/get togethers with alcohol and lots of drinking…
    I have a friend that is in a band… and it is always rough going to a bar to support and listen….

    It is just uncomfortable, being around the people drinking… I really don’t care what people think of me… I just wish they would mind their own business… – meh – it is what it is….

  3. […] even though she, I mean she or he didn’t reveal themselves to me: it was what I had asked for remember? Ahem, don’t worry Aussie fan, I won’t reveal you just yet! I don’t want the […]

  4. […] even though she, I mean she or he didn’t reveal themselves to me: it was what I had asked for remember? Ahem, don’t worry Aussie fan, I won’t reveal you just yet! I don’t want the […]

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