Category Archives: Everything Else Under the Sun

The textured sky

I went outside, sat down with my cup of coffee, and felt the cool breeze.

I lit my cigarette and puffed away.

Ruminating on the events of days past.

It had become my breakfast ritual since I found myself on that roof deck.

Some days my body was rehabilitating from alcohol-filled conversations the night before.

Other days, I was sharp.

On this day, I recall feeling cold and warm.

The Sun would intermittently show itself through the clouds, and then disappear.

Warm…

Cold…

It occurred to me to look up. I had my sunglasses on. To cover my recovering eyes.

The Sun was shining especially bright.

I remember thinking to myself “Oh, that’s why I’m feeling cold and warm.”

There were many little clouds in the sky. They looked like fluffy cotton candy. Or maybe like the many baby sheep I had seen on that island.

The Sun was extending its warm golden rays through the spaces between these countless soft baby animals.

I could also see the beautiful Mediterranean blue sky behind the clouds.

Then I thought “I love this. I wonder how it would feel to touch it. The texture. It looked perfectly textured.”

I stood up and took a few deep breaths. Closed my eyes with face up towards all of that beauty.

I grabbed another cup of coffee.

I lit myself another cigarette.

Then, enters the reason for all that daily perplexed contemplation.

He sat down. I offered him coffee. He rolled his cigarette. All in silence.

Sometimes, he was there before me. Sometimes, I was there before him.

But I always offered him coffee and a good morning.

He would sit in silence for a while. Maybe reading a book. Or maybe he was just staring at the screen some of the time.

Often, he was just there…with a confused, reticent, inquisitive gaze.

As if he was having an entire conversation with himself.

Then he said “I really like the sky today. It’s textured. The clouds have a defined shape. I really like that.”

I smiled.

I knew exactly what he meant.

 


My attraction to testosterone-pumped friendships

I really love my male friends. I have a handful of very good ones. At this point they are borderline…are you ready?…I said, are you ready?…Girls!

And if their bodies have not started producing enough estrogen and progesterone yet, I’m sure working very hard to achieve it. Even if it means mechanically injecting sense in these perverse minds. (tsssk tsssk tssssk)

Trust me, each one of them is begging for it. They have elected me to be their dear female friend of confidences and tales of debauchery.

Who said a girl cannot be true friends with a boy? Who said that this co-ed friendship cannot be completely devoid of sexual attraction?

Here is a very quick story of how these friendships began and continue very strong to this day.

Boy #1 – I met him in high school, over 18 years ago. He first thought he was in love with my sister. Then he thought he was in love with me. He supported us in very difficult times. He also witnessed me COMPLETELY drunk and; therefore, highly sexually suggestible on two occasions. He chose the unlikely, but honorable path —> he let me go unfucked. SCORE to you! We are very close friends to this day and support each other in countless ways.

Boy #2 – I met him about 12 years ago. I had just broken up with my boyfriend at the time. We flirted. We dated. We had sex. Then we didn’t want to have sex anymore. Then we became very close friends. I always refer to him as my “other” brother. The similarities are uncanny at times. Then we had a drunken lapse in judgement and had sex once more. We talked about it, and continued on the path of friendship. He’s dated one of my closest friends, was a complete asshole to her, and then left her for another woman. My friend dropped me like a bag of crap when I went to his wedding. He shares a lot of interesting unnecessary details with me about his sexual adventures. This was before, during and after he married. So wrong! But I’m using every skill that I have to straighten out this man. I love him as a friend…but let’s just say I would never date him! But I love him dearly!

Boy #3 – I met him about six years ago. We collaborated on some awesome youth projects. He is a very talented musician who also happens to be very socially active. We also share a lot of common traits. I can say that Boy #2 and Boy #3 were love and friendship at first sight. One of those things you just can’t explain. He has a beautiful soul with his contagious charisma, idealism, and intelligence. He is so HANDSOME, with his olive skin, and green eyes, and very white teeth. Does this sound like I am or was at some point infatuated with percussionist guy? Yes I was! I’m a sucker for intelligence combined with idealism and follow through (the image of a silly girl fluttering her exaggerated eyelashes with her hands under the chin come to mind). I overcame that powerful feeling in a few months. What was left was a pretty awesome friendship. Yes, he’s tried to get “funny” with me. Yes, I’ve tried to get “funny” with him (uh huh…I may have been saturated with some alcohol…) We have managed to not have sex. He, like boy #2, provides traumatizing details of his depravity. He, like boy #2, is also married. He, like boy #2, had sex with my friend…yes, the psycho one who dated boy #2 and fiercely unfriended me. Boy #3 was her vengeance sex. Boys #2 and #3 have never met each other. Boy #3 is a very good listener and actually gives me useful and honest feedback.

Boy #4 – We were roommates at one point. Pretty cool dude. Very intelligent too. Very sweet. He’s now married and a father. Believe it or not, he is not cheating on his wife. SCORE! By the way…Boy #1 is also not cheating on his wife. Boy #4 and I became very good friends. One night, we were at a rock show with a local band. As always, I was hanging with six other boys, one of them was my boyfriend at the time (“Ragna” for those of you who read other posts.) At one point, they were all having their testosterone-filled conversations while completely ignoring my femininity, or rather, including me in the dialogue as if I were part of that “inner circle”. I stopped and said (as I sipped my imperial stout) “Hey guys…come on! I’m here! And I’m a girl!” To which Boy #4 replied “Come on Sassi, you are like one of us…one of the boys!” Shute! To this day, I’m trying to figure out if he called me a manly woman…or a just a very cool and hot chick! I think the latter is a much better fit. No! We never had sex.

More recently I have Boys #6, #7, and #8.

#6 – We dated, we had sex, and we’re friends now. Extremely quirky and intelligent guy, which I LOVE. He’s the kind who is somewhat socially inept. He doesn’t understand why people engage in “small talk”. He was also the first guy I ever had sex with who said, verbatim, “Let’s go to my bed now, I want to fuck the bejesus out of you.” This was after I made an unsuccessful attempt to lure him to show me some love on this kitchen table. I wasn’t sure what to react to first. What he had just said, or the fact that a 30-something year old man would not just do me passionately all over his house. What was the fixation with just doing it on his bed?! 🙂 In his defense, he is really sweet in his quirky way. He’s also extremely decent and a gentleman. So I added him to my male friend list.

Boys #7 and #8 – I still don’t know what’s going to happen with these ones. However, I’m pretty sure that Boy #7 is either homosexual or bisexual. AND THERE IS NO PROBLEM WITH IT AT ALL. What puzzles me is that I think he believes he likes me and wants to date me…hummm…Let the story unfold. Boy #8 is AWESOME. But that’s all I can say right now.

As for me…it’s almost like a love/hate relationship with all my boys. I love them as friends…but sometimes I just want to polverize them with my evil laser eyes or finish them with a video game-like karate death strike.

Why are some of them so sleazy with their wives AND the women they go after? Have I not spent years of my life trying to instill some infinitesimally small sense in their fuckin’ heads?

I’m giving up! That’s it! No, I’m not! Yes, I am!

On my next post, I will share one recent story with Boy #2 that gives me some hope that 0.00000001% of what I say to these men actually sticks in their mind. My strategic use of subliminal messages during our casual conversations work as silent bombs in their heads. Mwwwaaaaahhhhh Mwaaaahhhhhh Yes, it takes a while, but it works. I plan to stick around. They’re all pretty cool humans.

The story is about three CRAZY days of too much partying in San Diego that Boy #2 and I shared last week.

Stay tuned!


Freudian Slips of Tongue and Language Barrier

Two funny stories I must share. Both somewhat related to rock climbing. (Please note: I am originally from Brazil, but have been in the US for almost 20 years. From time to time, I find myself and sticky situations because of linguistics.)

1- One day I was climbing with my OCP (rock climbing pop culture 101 – this term stands for “original climbing partner”.) Let’s call my OCP “M”.

I usually bring one or two bananas with me for energy. I was starting to get a bit hungry and said “M, I’m so hungry! Hang on a second while I go eat my bananas. Do you want my banana?”

Ok! Pause for a second! I know I can always blame the fact that English is not my native language. But I’ve been here for almost 20 years!

Can you find the problems with those few sentences?

a) Do I have “bananas”?

b) Even if I did, how many???

c) And even if I did have 2 or more of my own “bananas”, am I a cannibal?

I could see a grin on M’s face as he tried to hold back whatever he was thinking.

2- This past Tuesday, I was climbing again with my very own OCP. I was wearing an almost all black outfit. I started chalking up my hands to see if I could finally get to the top of that V2 that had been kicking my butt in the bouldering room.

As I’m looking at my outfit, I think to myself “Oh, I’m all covered in white stuff!”. ONLY I DID NOT ONLY THINK IT TO MYSELF, I SAID IT OUT LOUD. In a volume high enough that other OCPs around me (mostly men) heard me.

M goes “Oh yeah, it’s the chalk.” (trying really hard to be polite and subtle).

Pause for a second again! I’ve been climbing with M for a few months now. This type of “relationship” requires a lot of trust and reciprocal encouragement, right? Furthermore, my sense of “boundaries” is a bit off sometimes. And, finally, M is just a very nice guy…not one of those “sleazy” guys.

Pressing “play” again – I said “Oh M, I’m such a little kid! I just had some very wrong thoughts right now. And the worst part is that I’m actually saying this to you. I’m so sorry. You have a crazy climbing partner.”

M goes “It’s like you’re 17 all over again!”

The end.

(I lost count of how many stories like this I have…the wonders of linguistics and slips of tongue)


And the fortune cookie of the week is…

Why should I continute to read Stephen King’s “On Writing” after these words of wisdom?

Reading it gave me a déjà vu feeling.

On a second thought…I think I’ll continue to read the book. It’s not like fortune cookies are really based on concrete science, right? Or is it? 🙂


Insulting the iPhone talking robot: Siri

My friend from high school and I spent Saturday night proclaiming profanities and asking sexually charged questions to “Siri” (the iPhone lady.)

First of all! What were two girls doing on a Saturday night, at home, lying in bed together, laughing hyterically like two school girls, asking completely offensive and stupid questions to the iPhone? That’s a question to address on another post!

Here is how the dialogue, or should I say double monologue, went.

“Hot girl 1” (HG1) says to “Hot girl 2” (HG2) – Hey, let’s talk to ‘Siri’!

HG2 says to HG1 – Talk to who? Sirrrr..aii…? What?

HG1 – ‘Siri’ the iPhone bitch! Seriously, you can ask her anything. Check this out!

Hi, ‘Siri’, where are all the thai food restaurants close to Somerville?

Siri – Please specify “my location.

HG1 – Dumb fuck! Ok…’Siri’ where are all the thai food restaurants close to my location?

Siri – Looking up thai food restaurants close to your location. I found three thai food restaurants close to your location. Would you like directions to any of them?

HG1 – And this is ‘Siri’ for you!

HG2 – Ok, ok…Let me ask this stupid iPhone robot a question.

Why is it that I worked today and have to work tomorrow early in the morning? Please give me a thorough explanation.

Siri – I am sorry, I don’t understand.

HG2 – ‘Siri’ is stupid and useless.

HG1 – Tell me a joke!

Siri – I missed the punchline.

HG1 and HG2 – What? (laughing uncontrollably for apparently no reason.)

HG1 – Why is <name removed> so stupid and when is he going to stand up to his crazy mommy?

Siri – Looking up <name>…Calling <name>…

HG1 – Oh my! No, please stop! Don’t call him! That’s not what I asked you stinky woman!

Oh! I pressed the button by mistake.

Siri – Foul language is unnecessary.

HG2 – Where can I find myself a very hot man right now and have crazy wild sex with him?

Siri – I am not sure I understand your question.

HG2 – Of course you don’t! You’re stupid! You smelly robot bitch!

Siri – (with an uncanny offended tone) This kind of language is unnecessary.

HG2 – I think if we keep pissing off ‘Siri” she is going to try to kill us in the middle of the night. She is going to materialize as an evil crazy robot and kill us both! (laughing like there’s no tomorrow with the occasional snorting.)

HG1 – ‘Siri’ let’s kill <name> and take her apartment. I love her beautiful apartment.

Where did you come from ‘Siri’? Did Steve Jobs create you?

Siri – I am not sure I understand your question, but I am looking it up. Looking up beautiful apartments close to your location.

HG1 – Why are you such a fuckin’ whore?

Siri – Looking up “fuckin’ whore”…searching…

HG1 and HG2 – I bet she is going to take us to some type of sex website! Let’s hope it’s something good! (laughing hysterically)

The crazy, unconstructive and juvenile dialogue went on for a while longer and the sexually suggestive remarks only grew more naked with each question. But it was really funny!

Again! Why were two hot girls, lying in bed together, with very little clothing, on a saturday night, talking to the iPhone robot lady, while receiving text messages with invitations to “hang out” from pretty hot guys?

Oh…yeah…I had to wake up at 7am to work on a Sunday! That’s why!


I can be a clown too! Believe me! Please?!

I need to inject some entertaining and mildly ludicrous posts in my otherwise sober blog. After all, they all converge to the same point.

In the above picture, I think I may have teen trying to reach both sides of the road with my long elastic legs! Let’s not forget I’m an adult and most of the people who saw me attempt this BOLD move 🙂 probably thought I was a little…humm…crazy?!

I also do this thing, where I will reach for one of my feet and pull it all the way up to my head in a very ungraceful move.

Or, I may grab my foot while putting the opposite hand on my head, and attempt a very nerdy dance, where I thrust my whole body to the front and then to the back, while curving in the middle and completly annihilating any traces of a gluteous mass!

Sexy huh?

Maybe not, but definitely entertaining to watch!


Purple prose and Stephen King

As I try to find my style as a novice writer, I have been doing a lot of research.

I came across the book that Stephen King wrote “On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft” that may change my writing style from here on out. Unfortunatly, I was able to identify my current writing style with many of his examples of poorly written stories. I especially liked his explanation behind why being too descriptive through the use of unnecessary adverbs is crippling to your story. It also assumes that the reader does not possess his or her own mind.

Please accept my apologies. The initial purpose of this blog was to serve as an outlet for my rawest emotions and fears as I try to figure out where I fit in this life. So I may have exaggerated on the details here and there. Still worth reading though, as they represent my bare stream of consciousness.

Nevertheless, through this reading, I feel confident that I possess the fundamentals to continue on this journey “A little talent is a good thing to have if you want to be a writer. But the only real requirement is the ability to remember every scar.” (Stephen King).

I will continue to perfect the technique and style, but I’m relieved that the germinal talent exists.

So please bear with me as I rid myself of my “purple prose” style of writing.

___________________

“In many cases when a reader puts a story aside because it ‘got boring,’ the boredom arose because the writer grew enchanted with his powers of description and lost sight of his priority, which is to keep the ball rolling.” (Stephen King)