14 posts tagged “leah”

why is it that I have a love of books in which the narrator has continuous neurotic inner turmoil? The narrator rambles and rambles wondering about this and that, has flights of fancy and easily slips between reality and many other worlds. Exposing their inner fears, worries, thought processes. I think whats refreshing about these books is that this is how I imagine that we really all think and talk to ourselves in our minds. the human mind is pretty disturbing...our train of thought, the connections we make, our trifle worries and neurosis...  or maybe it just me but in any case, these books are amazing.

Not only do they have this point of view from the narrator in which they don't make excuses for how and why they think, but the order and method in which they progress is very "modern." There are bits of inner dialogue, pieces of poetry, skipping of time periods, locations and surreal spaces... awesome!

wo excellent examples of books that do this point of view from a crazy narrator are:

Everything is Illuminated, Extremely loud and Upclose by Jonathan Safran Foer- thanks Ms. Leah

A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius by Dave Eggers- thanks Fargini

So as I was burning a cd for Ms. Leah for the Fiesta, I was adding a couple of songs from BRONCO, which I used to love when I was little because of their ridiculously awesome music videos and song names for example:

El Sheriff De Chocolate

Los Castigados

This is Sergio giving a little blurb about Bronco, he is one of the members, and then it is accompanied with another video that starts with  hilarious yet sexist commentary from anthropomorphized horses.

Leah and Tricia are going to Love this :) this is for u!

I am going to be a student again! Grad School here I come! :) I opened my email yesterday and found my acceptance into UCSD's Latin American Studies program! I start this fall! I am soooo excited! Thank you everyone- Leah, Tricia, Raquel and Rob who helped me with my writing sample/personal statment and everything else-GOLDSTARS! :) whoooo hooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

sucks oftentimes! It is rarely objective unless its independent media. I get my google immigration alert and I see this today. Its ridiculous. I love how the media skews the publics opinions and I also love how the public is so ignorant as to how the media is f*cking with their ideas and viewpoints.

The beginning of the article-

LOS ANGELES, Dec. 3 — Under pressure from advocates for stricter immigration laws, the mayor of Phoenix said on Monday that he no longer backed a Police Department order barring officers from routinely asking the immigration status of people it arrested and announced a panel to study a policy change.

Then if you clicked on the link to rest of the article, you can see also how race issues come to play--- a giant picture of a white male police officer  is displayed with the words: Officer Nick Erfle was shot to death two months ago by an illegal immigrant-grr this pisses me off! Viewers get more fuel for their anti-immigrant stance-- as if to say that all immigrants are murderers. Its really frustrating to see how deliberately the media plays on peoples fairs and promotes racism and prejudice, but then again, this is nothing new.

a random rockin song: Frances Limon by Enanitos Verdes.

heres the lyrics:

Everything has the color of your eyes, how you look.

Everything changes, not your voice

When you speak to me in lemon French

In a paper ship I will return

For you, my lemon French love.

The lights in the city will go out

I will kiss you. You will kiss me.

I love your attitude. God preserve your health

Only by looking at you I knew

Why I came here.

In a paper ship I will return

For you my lemon French love.

The lights in the city will go out

I will kiss you. You will kiss me.

lalalalalalalalalalala
lalalalalalalalalalala
lalalalalalalalalalala
lalalalalalalalalalala

Everything has the color of your eyes, how you look.

Everything changes, not your voice

When you speak to me in lemon French

In a paper ship I will return

For you, my lemon French love.

The lights in the city will go out

I will kiss you. You will kiss me.

I love that line: Lemon French Love :) yeah!

Aren't these great??? Natalie Dee rocks!!! You have to check her out, thanks Leah for getting me addicted to this stuff!

My stint in returning to college lasted a total of about 45 minutes... yesterday. I already dropped the class this morning. Seriously, community college has to be worse than high school! there were only going to be quizzes given and no writing and just straight chapter memorization..now what type of learning is that? what type of education? Especially not cool if the teacher promotes English as the only language that should be spoken in the United States, ridiculous!!!! So yeah, I pretty much gave up and walked out about 45 minutes into nonsensicalness.... then today, after a not fun event full of pretentious, stuck up artist gallery event.. I also walked out,... i went out to flier for Fiesta Del Sol, but all of the artists were pretty big and couldn't be bothered..or there were buyers of art from "La Jolla"...this ass comes up to me as I am looking at the only one half decent painting in the entire damn shitty art exhibit--it is of a sunrise or sunset and its beautiful, has the horizon of the ocean....anyhow this guy comes up and says that he is planning on buying it because it has the horizon line, im quoting him exactly: "My office is in the Penthouse in ITC La Jolla and I can see the ocean horizon, so all of my paintings have horizon lines on them"  bleehh...that left me with a bad taste in my mouth and soul....anyway.... stay tuned to see if its true that Norma may have likely ruined her life for dropping out of college.... COMMUNITY college...tan tan tan! *gasp*

on that inane nutty note... good nite... that is all for now... or is it?

And it should be since they children are the ones suffereing at the latest brilliant plan by the conservatives and the group, ICE. Families of mixed documentation status across the nation are getting ripped apart by raids. Children, citizens of the US, with undocumented parents are being left behind on their own. This is simply not acceptable on soo many levels...social justice groups are rallying behind these children, our very own Ms. Leah was at yesterdays March.  I only hope that our efforts don't fall on deaf ears and that our politicians get half a brain..its better than none...

my string of thoughts leading to the madeleines: I am at work, computer, document to post, butter, butter left out over night, madeleines, Marcel Proust and HIS madeleine... 

I am now craving a Madeleine...  but I am thinking twice about it because I know what happened to Proust  last time he ate a Madeleine, he ended up writing an article this article, (which  I think that Leah and whomever was over at Tricia's the night of the folkloristics of licking article was introduced, might agree is right in line with it) anyway... Prousts entire argument is that the cookie itself held no memories for him UNTIL he tasted it... "the sight of the little madeleine had recalled nothing in my mind before I tasted it, perhaps beacuse I had so often seen such things in the meantime, without tasting them" and then....

"but when from a long- distant past nothing subsists, after the people are dead, after the things are broken and scattered, taste and smell alone, more fragile but more enduring, more unsubstantial, more persistent, more faithful, remain poised for a long time, like souls remembering, waiting, hoping, amid the ruins of all the rest...'

good argument for the folkloristics of licking no? I would say thats its not really about licking necessarily but about tasting and smelling??

what do you think? I  agree with the smell aspect of this argument...how many times have you been wandering around minding your own business when you catch a smell and immediately it reminds you of someone, a place or a feeling? ...everytime I smell crayons I think about my kindergarten class and my teacher Mrs. Hauert and a little kid that would eat the orange crayons insisting that they were carrots... and when i smell orange blossoms  I recall highschool, running afterschool through orange groves in bloom... and... okay you get it

taken directly from the Leah, I will be doing an adaptation of her sunday weekly country "column" i happen to be a poetry junkie so I will be posting a new poem that will hopefully serve you as a muse as it has to me...or perhaps you will hate it and you will tell me, but at least the act of you telling me how you hate it will have gotten you to at least think of poetry and perhaps that will lead to you thinking about bread pudding or pudding cups and you will be inspired to make a better bread pudding... and therefore the poetry did indeed serve as your muse.... um... you get the point

okay so here it is the very first edition of Monday moetry muse... the "moetry" results from a type-o that rob made once when he called me mormita... now it applies to many places (Mogurt Morld) ANYWAY...

here is one of (to me) Nerudas most beautiful poems--
the narrator contemplates a past love and how in nights like this he would hold her and kiss her and stare into her eyes and now he even though he doesnt love her, he still cant forget her....anyway, I will try to find a good translation... enjoy!!

"Puedo escribir los versos mas tristes esta noche"
-Pablo Neruda

Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.

Escribir, por ejemplo: "La noche está estrellada,
y tiritan, azules, los astros, a lo lejos."

El viento de la noche gira en el cielo y canta.

Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.
Yo la quise, y a veces ella también me quiso.

En las noches como esta la tuve entre mis brazos.
La besé tantas veces bajo el cielo infinito.

Ella me quiso, a veces yo también la quería.
Cómo no haber amado sus grandes ojos fijos.

Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.
Pensar que no la tengo. Sentir que la he perdido.

Oir la noche inmensa, más inmensa sin ella.
Y el verso cae al alma como al pasto el rocío.

Qué importa que mi amor no pudiera guardarla.
La noche esta estrellada y ella no está conmigo.

Eso es todo. A lo lejos alguien canta. A lo lejos.
Mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido.

Como para acercarla mi mirada la busca.
Mi corazón la busca, y ella no está conmigo.

La misma noche que hace blanquear los mismos árboles.
Nosotros, los de entonces, ya no somos los mismos.

Ya no la quiero, es cierto, pero cuánto la quise.
Mi voz buscaba el viento para tocar su oído.

De otro. Será de otro. Como antes de mis besos.
Su voz, su cuerpo claro. Sus ojos infinitos.

Ya no la quiero, es cierto, pero tal vez la quiero.
Es tan corto el amor, y es tan largo el olvido.

Porque en noches como esta la tuve entre mis brazos,
mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido.

Aunque este sea el ultimo dolor que ella me causa,
y estos sean los ultimos versos que yo le escribo.