Friday, October 29, 2004

He's Perfect Except

Well no one is perfect but yesterday el Cubano came pretty damned close. After a crazy, fucked up night, and morning, he showed up at my door with kisses and a smile for the MapucheRican. We all put our jackets on quickly because he had to be in Manhattan later that afternoon but wanted to get a manicure and pedicure before (who knew that he got pedicures and manicures).

Once at one of the nicer salons in my hood, El Cubano ordered up manicures and pedicures for each of us, even the MapucheRican, who giggled and flipped through glossy fashion rags like a pro the whole time. Meanwhile el Cubano told me that while I was having a breakdown the day before, he was too. His was brought on his mother and a visit with a therapist. Turns out his mother was abusive, physically and emotionally, and that his mother recognized that el Cubano's aggressive tendencies were all learned from her.

It seemed we all needed pampering. So El Cubano ordered facials and massages for us too. Everyone in the salon was enamored by him and his actions and damnit I was too. When asked if he was my boyfriend, I shook my head and said we were good friends. He felt the need to chime in , lovers. Yeah that too.

El Cubano had to leave for Manhattan, leaving me to get my massage and facial alone. When he left he told me that he probably wouldn't see me again before he left on Saturday. A part of me couldn't help wondering of all this niceness was just a way to buffer the goodbye. Shit it's not like I could cry in the middle of the salon.

My mother says, if he didn't live on the other side of the country and didn't have so many mental health issues he'd be quite a candidato.

Oh well no one is perfect

Thursday, October 28, 2004

All About Him

As my readers will know, seeing el Cubano has fucked my head up. La Fea, dealing with more sick people than should be allowed in the country of Ecuador, suggests we go for some drinks. I agree, dragging my ass the whole way, because in the end I will thank her for forcing me out of the house and away from my thoughts of hairy latinos, right?

Well as soon as I walk into the bar whose hair do I see? El Boliviano's. I didn't know if la Fea had told him we were meeting up and invited him or if he just happened to be there. La Fea and him have been talking a lot lately and while it's selfish to feel this way, it makes me jealous. Like it's not bad enough the shit that he pulled with me? Like it's not bad enough that he was trying to bed my best friend after he had already bedded me? No se.

He was uncomfortable silent for a while until we all loosened up with some drinks and he fed both fea and I cherries. I don't know exactly when the night took a turn for the worse. Was it when he would wrap his arms around her when we were outside smoking? Was it when I came back from a smoke to find that my spot next to la Fea had been taken by him so that he could be next to her? Was it when I realized this was not going to be about me or her but about him? What completely pushed me over the edge was when they started making out at the bar, next to me. Mira she can have him. He can have her but I find it extremely disrespectful and in bad taste to have to watch my best friend making out with a man I have slept with. Or am I being over sensitive?

What really bothers me is that la Fea and I were talking about el Cubano and how his insanity triggers my own and the we needed to stop being with people who "are perfect except for...". We've said that about el Boliviano. He's perfect except for his flaky, asshole, egotistical ways. ha ha

So I took a swig of my wine, left whatever money I had with me, complained to the bartender about the scene playing out next to me and broke out.

Before I left la Fea asked me not to leave. That he was leaving. She must have said that half a dozen times. I heard him say it at least three. She said she came to hang out with me. He never left. So I made the decision easier on all of them. I left.

No one followed me.

I even called la Fea from the subway to apologize and say that I hoped the money I left was enough (I don't think it was) and that whatever I owed her to let me know.

This morning the MapucheRican was running a fever so I kept her home. El Cubano called me, inviting me over. When I told him I couldn't. He said he would come to see me. He hasn't shown yet.

I get a phone call from la Fea's father. La Fea didn't show up at home or work. Did I know where she was. I said no but of course I did. I called her and el Boliviano, no answer, left messages. Even when it's supposed to be about me it becomes about me looking for someone else or covering someone else's ass.

Finally she calls me. She's with him (surprise surprise). Brazenly I ask if she fucked him. She says no. I want to believe her, really, but I don't. I tell her to call home. She asks, what did I tell them, worried that maybe I reveled something. I covered for her ass. Covered for her ass when her parents asked me if she was sleeping or dating el Boliviano , covered for her ass when asked about some other asshole Ecua.

I told her I was glad she was safe.
She asked if I was upset with her. Or did she say mad? Or pissed?
Yeah I'm all those things.

Wednesday, October 27, 2004

Todo Sobre Mi Sexo

Some people , friends, readers, have suggested or may be thinking that my issues with el Cubano revolve around me using sex as a toold for validation. I can and will admit my issues with sex. But particularly in this case with el Cubano it runs much much deeper. There are years of relationship history between us, years of deception, years of passion apart from sex, years of mental health issues, years of friendship. My relationship with el Cubano has always been one of my more complicated ones, if you can believe that with my history!!!

I enjoy sex. I love sex. I can't get enough of it. That doesn't make me a slut or in and of itself mean I use sex etc. And in the case of el Cubano, hell the sex was sucky at first and in fact we had sex what a handful of times? In the years (3 going on 4) that I have known el Cubano I think we have had sex now a total of five times.

Just a little side note

M

Tuesday, October 26, 2004

Too Much of a Good Thing?

Just when I'm trying to streamline my life, get rid of the excess, or ex'es, another one comes flying in from the West Coast. It isn't the first time el Cubano has returned. Hell he's been in and out of my life for years. When he decided to uproot his life and replant it in Cali I let go of any expectations of anything ahppening between us, or so I thought.

On Monday he called me early and invited me over to see him out at his father's house in Nassau County. I showered, shaved, and perfumed and off I went, without a second thought. It went pretty much as planned. We talked for awhile. He played the guitar for me (ok that was new and oh so sexy. I was happy playing groupie to his rock god) then we had sex. And it was wonderful, great, passionate, raw, sex. I have come to accept his little kinks and play along enough to really enjoy the whole thing. On the ride home he was kissy and touchy and holding my hand, and putting his arm around me and telling me how sexy I was. It was heaven with the option to leave at anytime. He would be gone in a few days and it would be another year or so before I would see him again. Of course we would talk on the phone, commiserate about our respective mental defects but get on with our lives. In fact el Cubano was just obnoxious enough to have me shake my head and be happy that it didn't work out between us. I mean who the hell talks about a "closing ratio" with women?

He called me late Monday night, when I was sleeping already saying he wanted to see me early on Tuesday. I had an early meeting but promised to call him when I was done and call him I did, siked that I would be getting good sex two days in a row. He was in slightly a more sour mood when I arrived but nothing I couldn't handle. We watched some TV, laughed then got down to business over and over and over again. Shit, the sex just keeps getting better and better with him. Then in a moment of kinky sex conversation, he teasingly calls me a sick bitch and while I know he didn't mean it, at all, really, it hit me and made me think. OMG I am a sick bitch. Here I am fucking this man who will leave in a few days and return and expect me to be available and I will be and the worse part is that I really ::gulp:: like him. Yes I like him. I won't say the other L word even thoyugh it really wants to escape from me. I mean I've known him for years and all his bullshit and manic episodes and depressive withdrawals and yet he's brilliant and sexy and knows more about me than most men. We talk, we're friends. And there I was , naked, on top of him, and suddenly I couldn't deal. I could not deal with the fact that he was such an asshole yet so sweet to me and would be leaving me yet again. That's what it boiled down to, him leaving me again. So what did I do? I broke down and fucking cried. And I must say he was wonderful about it. Really. Talking it out of me, consoling me but of course not giving me what I wanted, a sense of security. Shit like he could give it to me anyway. He said we would figure it out. That he would be back in December. That I would go see him. But what like this? Like some lover from the past? Like some fucking rerun syndicated on both coasts? He invited me to a dinner with him tonight then took it back, saying he felt he was gonna get set off into a rage and not wanting me to see him like that. Hmm. Ok.

He drove me home to pick up the MapucheRican than drove both of us home. Have I mentioned how much the MapucheRican adores him and how great he is with her?

And now it's fucking stuck in my head. Him. El Cubano. Imperfectly beautiful. I can't think of anything else beyond him being here. Not even the filmmaker, another "fucking" friend, not hanging out, nada. And what? Do I let el Cubano leave asi no mas. Again. Maybe I should just let him leave and forget about him. But it's like I told him, I think about him and worry about him and think what if something happens to him out there in LA how would I ever know. His response, " I'll give you my father's number in case of an emergency so that you are always kept in the loop," and can I tell you that is more than any other man has ever fucking offered me. Sad no?

So que? What to do? If I'm lucky he'll make a clean break back to Los Angeles and disappear into the same black hole as the other California boy. Right? Y si no pasa asi?

Monday, October 25, 2004

Mi Hija, Art Historian

Sabado, after el Cubano had left, la MapucheRican and I headed into Manhattan. After trying to navigate the weekend subway schedule, we ended up walking past my high school and up Madison Avenue. She loved looking into all the fancy shop windows. And I must admit I felt a twinge of anger at not being born wealthy. We stopped at the Whitney Museum where they were having their annual Family Day. This meant the MapucheRican and I got in for free.
The MapucheRican made a collage, got a balloon animal, and walked through the galleries.
I am constantly and consistently impressed with my hijita and reminded at times that I must be doing something right in terms of raising her. As soon as we walked into the Romare Bearden exhibit , my daughter goes, "Bearden. I recognize some of his stuff from the MOMA," then she proceeded to sketch using a brilliant guide the museum put together for the children. We participated in a mini art tour. Most striking was watching the MapucheRican's reaction to a piece on slavery and the Amistad revolt. She drew a storyboard based on Captivity and Resistance , but telling the story of Colon's arrival to the Caribbean. The MapucheRican visualizes slavery as literally a "people store". I have to find images/drawings of the slave markets in the Caribbean and the US to give her a more realistic vision.
I was disturbed however, watching other families of color approach this work particularly. When children would ask why the person was in chains, I heard more than one parent move their child away quickly, hushing them. Hmmm.

Next week I'm probably going to try and hit the Met to see the Inca exhibit.

And why oh why has my local Dunkin Doughnuts closed?!!! I want hazelnut coffee damnit!!!!

Sunday, October 24, 2004

Friday Fun With "Friends" Part Dos or Surprise! El Cubano

El Cubano called me when I was stuffing my face with cereal. I blew him off not out of maldad but because I was hungry and wanted to eat before my afternoon rush of students began.
"I'll call you back," I told him. Besides he's in Cali. and working.
A few hours later he calls me. I have the MapucheRican in the shower.
" So much for calling me back," he complains nastily. I have to defend myself so I tell him that I was working and taking care of my daughter.
"Want to hang out?" he asks.
"Sure, are you coming to NY anytime soon or are you going to send me a ticket to go and see you?" I tease.
"I'm here. I'll be at your place in an hour." and he hangs up.

Shit. I was doing laundry and in some ratty sweatpants. I quickly change into a pair of jeans that make my ass look nice and a decent shirt( a new pink and grey number, very cute).

For those of you that don't know, El Cubano is another one of my exes. He's the other latino who left NY for Los Angeles. Our relationship went on and off for two years, climaxing at a New Year's Eve party at his father's house where el Cubano confessed that the entire time we dated I was the other woman to his long time girlfriend.
Somehow we managed to remain friends maybe because I understand his Bi-Polar head and he understand my BPD head.

when he appeared on my doorstep, he looked a little heavier (he said I did too!!!)and he had more grey in his hair. He hadn't eaten and he was broke so we went out, rented a movie, bought a bottle of my favorite Chilean red, and got some Indian food. I told him about el Boliviano's show out in Brooklyn but el Cubano wasn't up for it, being quite on the manic side of the spectrum and telling me a million things.
We flirted and kissed like an old couple.
"If we had kids together those kids would be brilliant and charismatic but so fucked up in the head like us," he told me in the video store.
El Cubano has a thing for talking about kids. The first time we slept together, he told me he wanted me to get pregnant. I don't think I have ever jumped off a cock faster.

The thing is el Cubano is great with kids. The MapucheRican loves him to death and vice versa. She drew him pictures, asking him not to go back to Hollywood.
I served him food (I never serve food!!!) and he told me about being happy in Cali. and finally coming to terms with his being bi-polar. After the MapucheRican went to bed we watched the House of Sand and Fog which was enough to make even a sane person want to slit their wrists, so imagine how el Cubano and I handled it!!!

I let him crash at my place. I let him have my bed and I slept in the living room. I forgot how loud el Cubano snored. Thankfully my sister, mother, and the mapucheRican all snore as well.

el Cubano left Saturday morning with promises of seeing me again before he left. I kissed him goodbye and am not holding my breath.


Saturday, October 23, 2004

Friday Fun with "Friends" part uno

The original plan was for the filmmaker to come into Queens early. I would make breakfast and we would fuck all day in my empty apartment. Too bad that when I returned from dropping off the MapucheRican my sister was still in bed, singing a song about taking a "sick day". I ran to the phone on my way to the shower to break the news and see if any portion of the day could be repaired. Half an hour later I ended up on a subway uptown.

Once in West Harlem, I had lost my appetite, at least the one I had for food and we finally had sex. You see the filmmaker and I have been "talking" since the summer. "seeing" each other for about two months. We flirt and kiss and grope and now finally are lovers. Well he, like most artsy men , especially arty Latino men, would never say the word lover. According to the filmmaker, it is all based in friendship. Hmm ok. It's not an issue I am hugely stressing (I'm trying to avoid the attachment issues I have) but I just find it interesting how men love to throw around the word "friend" when referring to all sorts of different relationships and then passing judgments on other "friendships".

My best girl , la Fea, is my best friend. We share everything, eventually. And I don't mean sexually. We dance sexy with each other and she has drunkenly groped me once, and she's seen me naked. Hell we fucking pee in front of each other but we don't fuck or kiss. Ok that could easily be blamed on heterosexuality, since la fea is strictly straight. I'm a little less strictly straight but she is my friend, true and true complete with fights and silent treatment and late night visits to bitch and cry and hospital trips and bail out calls during dates.

It's always the brilliant creative types who hide beyond the friend label. Maybe their heads are too busy creating movies or music or novels to commit to anything beyond having their other heads in our mouths. Maybe it's pure fear.

So my filmmaker friend and I had a wonderful naked day on Friday. and maybe it was the post sex glow that helped me score a phone number from a hot Latino papi, literally he's a father, outside my daughter's school at dismissal (now he is definitely "friend" material, doesn't strike me as a huge intellectual.

The filmmaker called me later that night, and sad to say I kind of blew him off because I had a surprise guest. The filmmaker has mentioned something about stopping by to watch a film but he hasn't called.

Friends.

Friday, October 22, 2004

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Thursday, October 21, 2004

Tertuliando

Yes yes I stole the word from la Fea. Excuse me if I'm running on little sleep.

Last night was the Fusion Atomica Tertulia at D'Antigua and was it full of fun, wine, flirting, kissing, laughter, with a dash of "ewwwww" thrown in.

El poeta lindo was there and we sat at the bar for a while watching the Yankees get their asses kicked. I chatted it up with the bartender as he served me. It was emptier than other tertulias maybe because of the cold or the baseball game. La fea arrived late because of usual work drama but the whole this started late so it was no big deal.

The filmmaker arrived just before I went on so that made me happy. Sadly he didn't get to hang around that long because today he has a job interview. My performance was eh but at least I wasn't on stage giving my applause to Jesus, as in the son of god (not someone's primo cuz I know I got a cousin Jesus) as one chica who performed did.

El Boliviano showed up with two of his band mates. El Boliviano , who stumbled, well I'm sure actually went looking this blog, doesn't like being called el Boliviano. For this entry shall I name him the player for trying to play la fea and I off each other? He's all flirty and kissy with me and defensively asking my about my "boyfriend" (the filmmaker-who is not my boyfriend) and asking me to go to his house before his show on Friday. Then he's so flirty with la fea that a mutual chica friend told la fea emphatically that El Boliviano and her were only friends, as if to say, you can mess with him. When El Boliviano/Player leaves he says to la Fea, " I want both of you," Um that was an ewww moment.

Another highlight was watching two women fall all over themselves and cockblock each other over el poeta lindo. La hostess of the tertulia and another poet friend surrounded him when the show was over and battled it out for his attention.

La Fea, besides getting attention from El Boliviano was getting attention from a geeky hot waiter and a bartender from another spot we hang at.

I stumbled home at 5 am and woke up at 10 to 8. Pobre de la MapucheRican who had to dressed and hustled off to school in a rush so she wouldn't be late. Then my phone rings, it's El Boliviano, telling me to meet him before the show tomorrow. He also began to invite me over but I declined before he could get all the words out of his mouth. Funny how then minutes later he calls la Fea to um, yes, invite her over!!!!

The thing with el Boliviano is not that he's this physically hot person but he has a charming personality and is super intelligent in a well rounded way. There aren't enough men in the world who are like that. But then he does nasty, strange shit , like flirting with me y la Fea (does he think we don't talk??? Carajo we talk about everything!!!) And he does and says stranger shit when he's drinking and of course he dismisses it the morning after saying he can't remember or he was joking. Latino musicians...they are sexy but trouble trouble trouble.

Wednesday, October 20, 2004

Shameless Self- Promotion

I am feeling quite unprepared for tonight but I do know I will be performing a new poem
"Dia de Colon, Observado" so come and check it out as well as other poets and musicians and characters from this here blog.

Fusion Atomica presenta su Tertulia
Tonight/Esta Noche
Wends./Miercoles
D'Antigua
84-16 Northern Blvd., Jackson Heights, Queens
# 7 train to 82nd Street

The fanfare begins between 9:30 - 10 pm
I usually read between 10:30-11 pm

I hope to see both new and old friends there!!!

Tuesday, October 19, 2004

The Politics of Strippers

Everyone is getting in on the voter registration and turnout bandwagon, even strip clubs.

The strip club that I used to dance at, in the suburbs of the NYC metro region, wasn't political on the surface. But isn't the personal always political. Most of us dancers were women of color. Most of us were single mothers. Some of us had day jobs. Some of us were going to school. We weren't part of a union (although some of us did examine that option). We worked for tips and table dances. We had no benefits, worked 8 hour shifts (sometimes more if we did doubles). We were sexually harassed (and no I don't mean by the customers). I mean our asses were smacked by management when we were on stage and more than once did I see a dancer disappear into the back office with the owner. We were women who realized that we could earn more money shaking our ass than raising our own children or working in an office.

My customers were mostly conservatives and Republican. The exceptions were the Irish customers ,with whom I could always have a good conversation about colonialism , and the Latino working class men who would come in. Occasionally I would have an artist come in.

I didn't become a stripper out of real need. I was on the corporate track down on Wall Street. I walked away from that because of the racism and sexism there. What I realized under the black light is that the differences between spinning round a pole and spinning in an office chair were minimal as a single Latina mother. I was stereotyped in both worlds. I was not given what I deserved and worked for in both worlds. I was harassed in both worlds.

So I say register those men who go to strip clubs and hell have the strippers register them. It doesn't have to be about promoting a specific candidate but it should always be about promoting a specific agenda. That agenda should be one where women have options and access to education, jobs, childcare, reproductive and sexual rights. Maybe that will be a hard agenda to sell in lucite heels but if I remember anything from when I used to strip a year and a half ago (damn has it been that long) is that men like an aggressive woman and that it is all about the hustle. Make sure you all are hustling for the right things.


Monday, October 18, 2004

Early Visitors Always Ruin Plans

I was looking forward to taking a trip up to West Harlem for some sex but my period arrived two days early. I guess I'd rather have it early than late (or not at all) pero it kind of ruined my original plans.

In the end la Fea convinced me to go to la Kueva. I don't know how I feel about becoming a "regular" there or anywhere for that matter. Doesn't becoming a regular end up limiting you, pigeon holing you? At the same time it is nice to go somewhere and be greeted warmly by hugs and kisses. There is a safety and a risk. Also three clients of mine hadn't paid me, leaving my wallet a bit bare. la Fea felt generous and told me she'd take care of me.

In the end she only had to buy me one drink since other people kept my wine glass full for the rest of the night. The night was surprisingly undramatic with the exception of being asked for my number by the guy who was supposed to be with la fea and la fea and her Ecua rocker finally talked and got some things clear. la fea and I left and had an early breakfast at the diner.

Y ahora I have a cold because I was smoking outside the club in only my hot pink tank top.



Sunday, October 17, 2004

The Sleeping Pool

On Friday la Fea was exhausted from la Oreja de Van Gogh concert and I was exhausted from la Kueva and fighting with the Boliviano but there was no rest for la Mala. I had to finish a master's thesis assignment so that I could get paid. I needed to run to Target to buy a Red Eyed Black Dragon toy for a birthday party I had to take the MapucheRican to later. I had to then run to the school to get any last minute submissions and ad copy for the school newsletter so that I could put that to bed.

The Boliviano called to apologize and ay no se, he says he wants us to be "just friends" y despues he asks me to send him erotic emails...yeah cuz I do that with all my friends. No se si es a mid-life crisis or que but talk about mixed messages(which he says I give him!!). We agreed to meet for lunch or something during the next week. I have to ask him if he still wants me to see the band play in Brooklyn. I'll worry about the Halloween party after that.

Speaking of Halloween.....um what should I be for Halloween???!!!! I could just recycle my dominatrix dress unless I get a really creative suggestion. I may actually have plans for Halloween!!! Wow!!!!

Anyway so I picked the MapucheRican up, ran home to grab the gift then met the grandmother of a classmate so we could take a cab together to the party place. It was at the very popular Ooba Dooba Funhouse. It used to be a Discovery Zone and I think I have been there a half a dozen times this year already for birthday parties. It could be worse. The place doesn't smell like feet and they always let me play laser tag with the kids. The birthday boy is a Korean classmate that my daughter has the only crush on by her own admission.

The parents were well fed with regulation pizza but sadly they made us dance with the kids ( I was so tired like I really want to freaking dance the twist or freeze dance). I did play laser tag (the only dorky adult to do so) but even with me on the team, the green team lost, probably because I was too busy giggling with two other moms at the fact that the host mami was wearing some sort of makeup that under the black light looked like a white mask.

Then came the obligatory arcade time which means wasting tokens to earn tickets to trade in for some plastic garbage. The MapucheRican has accumulated 290 tickets so far in two birthday parties. I think she's saving up to 1000 so she can get the lava lamp.

Finally at home , I put the MapucheRican to bed and greeted the filmmaker. He brought popcorn and two films. Since my mom and sis were with us I chose the least pornographic of the two, The Swimming Pool. It was way too slow ( I fell asleep) and way too predictable. I think the best part was the scene at the back door of my building, exchanging wonderful, passionate kisses with the filmmaker. I want to redo that scene, over and over.

Saturday, October 16, 2004

Rockera Reportera

I am running quite behind on my blogging. My apologies to those who have been awaiting updates and yeah even to those who just want to read what I write and then talk shit about me.

Thursday night I was off to la Kueva to listen to the Boliviano's band and interview them and get some sound for the radio pilot I'm helping put together.

There were many people I knew there and I met quite a few other people. One thing I have been realizing is how "cliquey" the whole scene is at la Kueva. People are always asking who you came with and how often you hang out at the place and when you do go who do you hang out with and if you used to hang out at the old Kueva and how come they've never noticed you before (probably because many are stuck in their own little universe). It really is quite off putting and is ripe for bochinche and drama, something I try (although unsuccessfully) to avoid.

I got a good interviews with the band members, who were all very gracious, and got some great sound of the show, which sadly was populated by people who knew the band members personally. It was pretty empty and that didn't have to be the case.

I was invited attend and perform my poetry at a big Halloween party out on Long Island.

El Boliviano didn't pay much mind to me until the end, when we left together to go to another bar for some quiet drinks or what I thought would be quiet drinks.

It's funny. Usually I get into trouble for blogging about people, well el Boliviano "found" my blog and was angry with me because I didn't write about him. He said some pretty terrible things to me , assumptions really and upset me substantially. I angrily left him.

Now I made a decision not to blog about him, because I didn't want to create more bochinche and drama. I guess in this internet world people want all or nothing. Maybe it's like the difference between a topless club and an all nude one, no se.

All I will say is that my time is precious. I don't have a lot of it , so if I choose to spend it with another person, it is because I want to, because I enjoy that other person, regardless of whether it gets blogged about or not.

Friday, October 15, 2004

Makes Me Want To....mmmmmm

Ever versatile, ever trying new things , last night after spending most of my day writing, editing, and teaching, I was off to the Blue Note for a night of many firsts.

I was going to the Blue Note to get my equipment to begin doing interviews for some radio news pieces I am working on. The equipment itself (a beat up but really good mic, a mini-disc recorder, and headphones) was pretty self explanatory. What made me nervous was interviewing people. I have been interviewed for television and radio before. When I know the topic at hand, I'm pretty good in front of a mic/camera. I get nervous everytime I perform but usually once on stage I function on automatic. The idea of taking to strangers and asking them questions on something I know little about made me all shakey. My partner and teacher went inside. He was going to interview the musicians between sets. I never have been very good at talking to other women so not surprisingly I interviewed mostly men. Being thrown cold into this process wasn't easy but once I was warmed up it was kind of fun and I actually think I got at least two really great interviews.

As a member of the press I got to bypass the line at the Blue Note and was given a great seat right by the stage. The event was Ray Barretto's 75th birthday. I've been a fan of Barretto for a few years, nothing heavy duty though, as well as a fan of other legends on the bill including Francisco Aguabella and Patato Valdez. I ordered a glass of red wine and sat back.

The first thing I noticed were the number of hot hot Latino men who were seated after I was. These men were not on the line as I was interviewing, damnit, so I didn't get a chance to flirt with them.

Pero once the music started it was over. Latin jazz, with its roots in Cuba, Puerto Rico and of course the Bronx (as well as many other places) is such a primal yet complex genre that defies definition. It really is something you need to feel and I felt it. Barretto, Aguabella, and Valdez were incredible. Men with such experience and range. Valdez was absolutely adorable, all what 4 feet of him??!! He reminded me of an old tio that every Latino family has, you know the one who makes dirty jokes and laughs loudly con ese gusto de vivir? Barretto was intense. Watching him, not even listening to him, but just watching his facial expressions as he played and listened was moving.

So moving was the experience that I wanted to find the fastest and cheapest way to Harlem to get sex. I mean this was music to fuck to. But at the end of the set, I just took the subway back to Rego Park.

Wednesday, October 13, 2004

Sordid Paintings

Monday was dia de la conquista better known off our calendars as Columbus Day and known by many as Dia de la Raza. I was supposed to have students so my mother took the MapucheRican into the city to buy her a Halloween costume. When my students called to cancel, I decided to take advantage of my few hours of freedom and heard over to PS 1.

I had been wanting to go to PS 1 since the summer when they had their warm up series. I did manage to go once with my daughter but let's face it, there are some exhibits in PS 1 which aren't appropriate for kids, even my cosmopolitan MapucheRican who favors the word pussy. Of course in my excitement I failed to look up the fact that most of the exhibits I wanted to see were closed and that the museum was in the midst of installing new exhibits.

I did enjoy a retrospective of stuff my Manny Farber. There were paintings with words on them like "No Cock, No Kiss" (hmmmmm how true) and "Sordid". I like the idea of mixing words into painting. Not that I am much of a painter (it is still something I want to try). Some reading would say I am not much of a writer either (middle finger to all of you).

I also enjoyed a sound installation by Maja Bajevic which meant entering into a room with 30 sound systems spread out over the floor. Motion detectors would set the stereos off and they would begin playing nationalistic songs from 30 different countries/cultures. I leaned in to try and recognize the individual anthems (I only could identify the Spanish national anthem) and then stepped back to listen to the beautiful yet disturbing mix of all songs playing at the same time.

I took the 7 train home (taking advantage of a free transfer since I took the V to arrive--two dollars round trip, not bad). I took a student in the evening and made my mother return an 85 dollar Halloween costume(that's a bit much for an outfit the MapucheRican is going to wear once). We agreed on a less expensive Sleeping Beauty costume.

Yes the MapucheRican is gonna be Sleeping Beauty for Halloween, and the Disney version to boot (gag). She even is going to wear a horrible blonde wig. I guess as long as she's happy right?

I have no plans for Halloween but I want some . Any suggestions on what I should be? Ok any one who is saying I should be a bitch for Halloween.....fuck you. ha ha ha.

Tuesday, October 12, 2004

Um Never Mind...I'm not With the Band

Sunday, I didn't really get to sleep since as soon as I walked in from my night in Harlem, the sun just rising, the MapucheRican rose too, ready for breakfast. I had a student coming later as well so there was much to prepare for not to mention a rehearsal later.

I took a phone call from the woman offering VIP tix to the Desfile de la Hispanidad and I danced around picking up the tickets, uncomfortable. I'm sure it was lovely though.

After my student I called to confirm the rehearsal only to be told not to show up because he, the band leader said he hadn't heard from me. I had called him fro the past two days, and both times he was either drunk or hungover. Like I needed another reason to be angry.

In the end it was all for the best. The MapucheRican and I took a walk and I got to read the Sunday times, something I hadn't done in weeks. I needed the distraction from the rage that was bubbling inside.

Monday, October 11, 2004

Harlem, Sexo, Y Skittles

While la Fea was shaking her ass happily (and well accompanied I may add) at la Kueva on Sabado night. I loaded up my metrocard and headed up to West Harlem.

There is something beautiful about 125th and Lenox at night. There is too much activity happening for a so called "bad neighborhood". Groups of young men and women all dressed up to go clubbing or drinking. People inside storefront churches and mosques. A Dominican woman curses a bus that she missed. A young man asks me for a light and then my name and number.

The Filmmaker was waiting for me. We watched Sex and Lucia. He ate his favorite candy, Skittles, and we both drank Brugal.

Yes we both ended up in the bedroom but there was no sex to be had. That said he is an extremely passionate and funny man all at the same time if you can understand that.

I fell asleep on his bed while he finished transcribing an interview with a director he worked with. There was something comforting in that. In the words of la fea, it was very relationshipy.

It was even more comforting to hear that we would be seeing each other again.

But I know better then to let my expectations get the better of me. ....don't I?

Sunday, October 10, 2004

Crossing Certain Internet Boundaries

There are certain risk you accept in creating a blog that details your life. You risk people who don't know you making assumptions. You risk revealing things you otherwise wouldn't to people who do know you. It feels anonymous but it really is not. If people really wanted to know who I am they could. Recently I found out that a blog reader contacted someone that I have a blogged about.

I don't know exactly who this blog reader is (I do have my suspicions however).
As a result of this persons actions, I have decided to end an already strained relationship/friendship.

It makes me fucking furious that people have nothing better to do then cross that line from reader to participant into my life without invitation. It makes me fucking sad that people who claim to be my friends act in the most unfriendlike manner as a result of their own insecurities.

To that blog reader:you know who you are. You know who you contacted. I feel I am owed an apology. I probably won't get it.

To the person contacted: You are extremely special to me. For a some time I was really upset with myself because I kept being made to feel like I couldn't handle it- our friendship/relationship. I realized the other night that it is not my issue. I know what I want and who can't and can offer that to me. . I wish you nothing but the best success and hope you find happiness with yourself first.Everything else follows.
I hope that one day , when it is right, you and I will be true friends, able to fully support each other's work and life.

To general readers: I guess this is a warning. A wake up call to me. I will continue on, maybe more cautiously (but probably not).

Saturday, October 09, 2004

Lamento Boliviano and in 1492 Colon Got Lost

The NY Times reminded me that On Oct. 9, 1967, Latin American guerrilla leader Che Guevara was executed in Bolivia while attempting to incite revolution.

I will probably have to call the Boliviano some time today to practice harmonies and get some lyrics straight.

A little fly told me the show last night at Kueva was eh. And that la Fea was well accompanied by her cousin and other friends.

The MapucheRican had Columbus Day homework and it was pretty inoffensive. No use of the word "discovery" for example. But still the whole topic forced me , as a responsibility to sit down with my daughter and explain to her what really went down, the enslavement, the rapes, the genocide, and it's lasting impact on our people, her people. She was quite receptive and understanding. We then did a mini lesson on her ancestors the Tainos. I still have to do one on the Mapuche since she's more that than anything.

Friday, October 08, 2004

Should Have and Would Haves

I should have rehersed more today. I should be on my way to la Kueva. I should have been more specific when I dropped a note to the filmmaker saying I wanted to see him. But instead of doing any of those things, I find myself crying. Losing what I thought I had gained control over.

All it took was la Fea yelling at me because I wanted a quiet night in , and yes with the filmmaker, instead of making it three nights in a row with the same Latin rock crowd. All it took was the filmmaker to make up some excuse for not being able to see me to throw me deep into a wave that I feel stuck under.

The non-acceptance and lack of understanding on one hand and my feeling rejected on the other. Did I mention I decided to catch up with the rest of the mindless world and see the finale of Sex and the City? Ha ha . What a fucking joke. No one, and especially not a writer wearing 99 cent chanclas gets her Mr. Big. Being slapped by your boyfriend is never funny and white couples adopting Chinese baby presents way more issues than dollars a pair of Manolos cost.

The worse part is that , my best friend is pissed at me and the man I want to be with tonight thinks I'm crazy after I began crying on the phone. So I'll go lay in bed , with the phone that won't ring because tonight I am no longer expected or apparently wanted anywhere or by anyone.

I'm With the Band

The Boliviano called me yesterday, apparently not remembering much that happened the night before (why am I surrounded by drinkers who don't remember their antics???). When I told him , he apologized and asked me if I wanted to try his band out and vice versa. So after my last student of the evening I cabbed it to a rehersal in a stereotypical smoke filled studio. The band didn't know what to make of me. I was wearing a hideous very teacher-like sweater and my glasses. Their music is pretty hardcore but I can adjust right? I did some vocalizations and singing with the band of Latino rockeros. I wasn't sure how it all went (I still have to listen to the tape) but it went well enough that the band members checked with me to see if I could make a Sunday rehersal. So I can now say I'm with the band, and not in a groupie sort of way. There are upcoming gigs at la Kueva, some place in Brooklyn, and Oveja. Yes Oveja. (I am going to turn into a teenager here for a sec so excuse me) How fucking cool is it that I am going to be on stage at la Oveja Negra???!!!!! Ay like I need more things like shows and rehersals to fit into my schedule but hey just another adventure for la Mala no? I think I'm gonna need earplugs for rehersals and um tips on protecting my voice with all the screaming/singing I'm gonna be doing.

I think I made it super clear to the Boliviano that I didn't want anything beyond friendship and a working relationship with him. La Fea has a band man interested in her and let me tell you, these rockeros are intense and sensitive and well I'm feeling intense but well sensitive to my needs and wants. So mush so that I pushed the Boliviano on using the filmmaker hottie to get some clips of the band. The Boliviano as a good faith sign, took me for an innocent beer where we discussed band business and I ended up singing on stage in a little Irish bar.

Next project: the filmmaker



Thursday, October 07, 2004

Labeling Myself

"Don't be like your mother," the Principal of the MapucheRican's school told my daughter last night after a workshop I attended in the school. Certainly she couldn't want my daughter not to be an active participant in her community the way I am. Did she not want my daughter to be smart? Maybe she meant that the MapucheRican shouldn't be political, or an artist. I certainly don't want my daughter to do certain things I did, like become a single mother at age 19 and sleep with as many people as I have. But that's not what the Principal meant. Apparently, the Principal disapproved of my bright reddish-pink hair color. Yeah. That's a big concern. Sigh

Last night's performance at D'Antigua was a smashing success, with the labeling incident not going as smoothly as I would have liked but brilliant none the less.
Everyone was forgiving of la Fea's drunken antics last week and in fact she got free drinks not just from the waiter at D'Antigua but from an Ecua musician.

Remember how yesterday, just the thought of a room full of ex lovers and love interests watching me perform got me wet? Well I take it back. Most people who said they were going to come didn't. I've given up on the idea of the misfit ever coming to see a show of mine which sucks not because he's my ex but because as a fellow writer, I was looking forward to his opinion. A boy from MySpace (not a lust interest) surprised me by showing up , which was just lovely and sweet. The Bolivian musician who has the hots for me was there as was the filmmaker (who is the person I most wanted there, besides my assistant and girl la Fea). Now the Bolivian was all asking if the filmmaker was his competition and I was like um no because this is not a competition (and besides if anyone is gonna get into my fishnets it's gonna be the filmmaker). I could have just eaten the trigeno filmmaker up last night and if we weren't in such a public place I would have. Ay but the Boliviano kept pulling me away, using the excuse of the rock Latino news piece I'm working on and the fact that after hearing me sing he wants me to sing with his band (ooooh how exciting would that be, me on stage, at la Oveja?????) But I can only imagine what it looked like to the filmmaker. I actually told the filmmaker last night, " Haven't you noticed that we talk about everything but our obvious attraction to each other,". He gave me the typical Latino artist response, that he's rather just let things be but that we could talk about it if I really wanted to. I may have to forgo going to la Kueva this weekend in favor of hanging with the filmmaker. Wow could he be someone that I really maybe could possibly like to date?

The night ended strangely when the Boliviano put me in cab and then gave the driver the address of his place. I was like, " nope, that is not happening," He begged and pleaded and demanded but that wasn't my destiny and I was firm on that. I probably won't be singing on stage at la Oveja anytime soon but that's ok. I think right now I'd rather be making movies;)

Wednesday, October 06, 2004

Take me Out to the ballgame and random stuff

After a long Saturday night I took the MapucheRican to see a baseball game. We got $2 tix from the school so the price couldn't be beat. I made sure we ate before we got there so I wouldn't have to spend insane amounts of money on stadium food. Many of the MapucheRican's schoolmates and teachers were there which was actually really nice. But also kind of scary. One classmate of my daughter spent the whole game with her ass literally hanging out and screaming at her mother. Apparently she has some hyperactivity issues but it was enough to try my patience.

Did I mention there is a raccoon in my hood. A female raccoon and her two babies have taken refuge in a tree by my apartment building. They don't seem to be bothering anyone and the MapucheRican gets a kick of seeing the striped tail hanging out of the hole in the tree.

It's official, I am poor. How do I know. Well this year the MapucheRican qualifies for free breakfast and lunch from the school. My mother ,shocked and embarrassed that her daughter and grandchild were being deemed needy by the school system, insisted that I inquire how this determination was made (um based on the form they make me fill out every year). My sister thinks it's because I am active on the Parents' Association. Hey free is always good I think.

Tonight originally I expected a crew of friends, ex-lovers, boys I've kissed , etc to come to my show. I admit I get some sick twisted pleasure of having men who at some point in their lives loved me, wanted me, etc, all in one room together, especially if I am performing something about my relationship with them . But alas my guest list is dwindling. I think the misfit is still scared of being in the same room with me. Others have excuses like because they are white they are afraid of coming into a "Latino" setting.

Whatever...it's gonna rock....come and see me:

Tonight Wends./Miercoles, October 6
D'Antigua
84-16 Northern Blvd. (Corner of 84/85 St.)
Jackson Heights, Queens
I'll be arriving at about 9-9:30 ish







Tuesday, October 05, 2004

Se Me Olvido Otra Ves

In typical Mala y Fea style, we went to la Kueva on Saturday night. Fea was excited about seeing a bartender she has the hots for and me , well I was just looking forward to getting to know more people on the scene especially now that I have to produce a radio news piece on the Latin rock scene in NYC. I could accurately say that drinking glasses of vino tinto and shaking my ass was research.

The problem with la Kueva is that it lacks beautiful men. It seems like there is a BYOB policy (Bring your own Boy). But I still chatted it up and flirted it up with plenty especially people who know me from my performances at las Tertulias of D'Antiguas.

The second problem with la Kueva is the live bands that play. Bandera, the band on Sabado was generally awful according to the groans I heard throughout.

La Fea's problem with the Kueva was that she was so infatuated with the Ecuadorian bartender that she kept ordering more and more glasses of wine. Usually she's ok with the wine consumption. But as the lights went up at the club to signify that the party over, it became clear that la fea had her own party still happening inside her drunken head.

She slipped back inside the club to pee and I waited outside smoking a cigarette and talking. When la Fea took an extraordinary long time to return I went in to fetch her (maybe she fell in the toilet?) Alas it probably would have been better if she had. There she was at the bar, slurring to her bartender while a small group of bouncers and other staff were trying to get her to leave. I was able to lead her out but not without getting yelled at by her.

Thank god for two lovely gentleman whom are part of the scene. They drove a ranting fea all the way home (she lives far into Queens!!) How drink was she? Well she tried to light her earphones thinking they were cigarettes. She tried to open her door at home with the key chain instead of with the key and well I just couldn't understand what she was saying at points.

Of course she doesn't remember what happened. And as much as I love my girl, her drunken antics which began when she started dating that jerk off of an Ecua she met at Oveja, are getting to me. I don't want to feel like I have to play babysitter when I go out. I mean isn't that why I go out so I don't have to take care of someone? I told her that from now on when we go out I'm going to have to control her consumption levels by holding on to her money but the problem is deeper than that and complicated on various levels.

A, the filmmaker, and I had joked on the phone earlier that night that we should hang out. But he had to film some stuff for a movie he's working on and I had plans with la Fea. Well he ended up being detained by the police and I, well you already read.

La Fea and I will see many of the peeps from la Kueva at the tertulia tomorrow night. She's understandably embarrassed. I told her just apologize and move on.

Yes that's right tomorrow night. Come see me literally label myself and other poetic antics at:
D'Antigua
84-16 Northern Blvd., Queens
Jackson Heights
9:30 ish

Monday, October 04, 2004

Eternal Kisses in the Sunshine of my Spotless Mind

He was nearly two hours late, my DominiEspanol filmmaker friend. While I waited for him to come with a flick for the night, la fea, mi madre, my sis and I opened a bottle of wine and had some queso y crackers. When A. finally showed up with not one but two movies for us to watch, a bottle of whiskey, and a story of how he helped a boy who was hit by a car in his Harlem hood, how could we not forgive him?

We first watched a samurai spoof film he made which was hilarious and strange, just like him. Then we watched Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind which A actually worked on. A. and I avoided physical contact on the crowded sofa until close to the end of the movie when I began slowly leaning on him.

I enjoyed the movie and it resonated within me to the point of bringing on tears I had been struggling with all week. It made me reflct upon the relationship choices I make and continue to make and why they get made.

la Fea took a cab home and A and I sat outside for an hour talking and kissing. We will talk about everything from politics,to art, to sex but what remains unspoken is the attraction we obviously have for each other.

Friday, October 01, 2004

Thinking of Confinement

from the NEW YORK DAILY NEWS:
Albor Ruiz is a columnist for the Daily News.
E-mail: aruiz@ edit.nydailynews.com

200 locked away & under the radar

There is a little gulag in New York City. And it is nothing to be proud
of.
Its name is the Wackenhut Detention Center, and more than 200 human
beings - men and women - languish ignored within its walls. Yet most New
Yorkers have never heard about it.

The situation of the people inside the privately run immigration
maximum-security jail is so hopeless that on Monday, 175 of the imprisoned
men resorted to a desperate measure: They went on a hunger strike.

"Nobody is eating," said Makham Singh in a telephone interview. An
immigrant from India in his 30s, Singh has a wife and two children who are
American citizens. He has been in Wackenhut for six months.

"They bring us food and we send it back," added Singh.

The Wackenhut prison is a converted warehouse building with no windows
in the middle of a warehouse district in Springfield Gardens, Queens.

It is drab and anonymous and out of the way, which works out well for
keeping the men and women imprisoned in it out of New York's collective
consciousness.

But the detainees are determined to do whatever it takes to let
everybody know about the prison and what goes on inside it.

"We need people to know about our situation," Singh said. "We must be
heard, and we will starve if we have to."

The strikers' demands are nothing if not fair. They are asking for the
right to be treated humanely, the right to due process and appropriate
medical care, the review of their cases and the immediate release of
all noncriminal prisoners so they can be reunited with their families.

Many of the Wackenhut prisoners - people from all over the world - have
been deprived of freedom for years even though no terrorism-related or
other criminal charges have been brought against any of them.

"Yet they are locked up 23 hours per day, and several have been there a
year or more," said Bobby Khan, a member of the Coney Island Avenue
Project, a group based in the Pakistani community in Brooklyn that
advocates for the rights of imprisoned immigrants.

"Most of them were picked up in the aftermath of 9/11 and have been
held without criminal charges or due process and, in some cases, without
access to a lawyer," Khan added. "The food is insufficient and
inadequate, and even though some of the detainees have heart conditions or
suffer from diabetes and ulcers, medical care is practically nonexistent."

Like Singh, several of the detainees - all of them confined for alleged
immigration violations - are married to U.S. citizens and have American
children. Yet the government refuses to release information about their
status or what their future might be - even though few, if any, of the
immigrant detentions since 9/11 have yielded any useful results for
President Bush's "war on terror."

Shameful as it is, the misfortune of these immigrants and their
families is just one more opportunity for big profits for Wackenhut, the
private corporation running the jail under contract with the federal
government.

"For example, the food they are given is so bad and so little that
detainees have to buy cafeteria food," Singh said.

Inmates receive one dollar a day for work they do within the prison
walls.

Pretty low stuff in anybody's book.

Yes, there is a little gulag in New York City. It is located in Queens
and its name is the Wackenhut Detention Center. And everybody should
know about the more than 200 human beings languishing behind its walls.

Originally published on August 19, 2004