|
deepredwine
|
read my profile
sign my guestbook
Birthday: 3/7/1980
Gender: Female
Interests: books, words, tunes, movement ... observing people, sipping - yes - deep red wine, and laughing at my family [and friends]
Expertise: pop culture, digressive conversations, keeping in touch w/my inner child
Occupation: Artist
Message: message me
Member Since:
8/27/2002
|
|
SubscriptionsSites I Read
|
|
|
|
| are you sure you want to shut down the computer?
due to a recent move to the city and an upheaval in career choices, drw has left the xanga building.
Z100 local radio references aside - she will be here, from time to time, to post what she had for breakfast, or some nonsense like that; but aside from that, her appearances will be strictly limited to cameo ones.
thank you lovely subscribers, thank you even more my lovely online buddies, for the fun we've had, thank you real life friends for poking fun at my online persona I will beat you later.
be lucky, all. | | |
| this entry is dedicated to my friends, Cowboy Bebop and "Tswah-Bying" [that Asian shaved ice dessert]. to Bebop and Bing: if y'all can figure out better names for yourselves - let me know. but Pocky's already been taken.
Where's the Love ..?
conversation over pizza at Pizza Pronto:
DRW: hey! do you know what would make the next X-Men 3 even better? me as Jubilee.
BING: but, drw ... you're not attractive enough to be Jubilee.
DRW: oh.
excerpt from an email exchange, after BING invited a couple people to join him for the Daily Show:
From: BING@college.edu
Sent: Friday, April 25, 2003 2:47 PM
To: DRW, BEBOP, NYUgirl
So....it appears that I can only get four tickets. With Dave and me, I've got
five people so far. Umm....
Bing
From: BEBOP@company.com
Date: Fri, 25 Apr 2003 14:48:34
To: DRW, FRIEND, BING
sorry drw.
~~~~~~
all I have to say is - I look damn good in a yellow raincoat!
| | |
| weekend round-up:
- Better Luck Tomorrow was intense. I related to it as a teenager, not as an Asian American - and that's why I liked it. come on, everyone, represent at the theaters. let's make this baby stay more than two weeks at the box office, eh?
- you know it's PMS when you and your high school friend cry over What a Girl Wants [we meant to see the sold-out showing of Bend it like Beckham, but of course, no one believes us].
- I had a lovely conversation with my future roommate yesterday over coffee. she's blonde, pretty, and not tall - basically, the complete opposite of me. she is an actress, so we philosophized endlessly about art and entertainment. funny how I relate more to a white girl from Arizona than with most of the Asians around me.
- seeing Raising Victor Vargas made me want to live in Spanish Harlem. and eat overcooked hamburgers. and date a guy who licks his lips all the time. see what a hair-raising influence movies can have?
- two of my friends found out that I don't really have a Chinese name. I mean - I have one. I think, I think it's my middle name. but it came from a witch doctor in Chinatown, and mom decided she hated it. growing up Asia in America is so weird.
anyway, my friends suggested "Pocky" as my new Chinese name. and right away, I had qualms about owning a name that I could find at the Oriental Grocery Mart [second shelf, to the right of the lychee jelly cups]. and second - it doesn't mean anything regal [aren't Asian names supposed to signify "nobility" and "branches of flowers?" and not .. 368 calories of chocolate-covered pretzel].
don't get me wrong - Pocky is a delicious snack. I just don't feel like I possess the cojones to live up to that brand name.
[btw, what was the name of those fluorescent-colored Asian popsicles that came in tubes - and you could break them in half? they were so yummy and they were possibly not too good for you. it could explain why I'm much taller than both my parents. if consuming a bag of them a day didn't turn me into an X-men superhero, nothing will.] | | |
| in the words of Kevin Spacey in American Beauty: "I rule!" <fist pumped up into the air>
I finished critiquing five manuscripts, and dropped them off to the assistant editor. she asked, "would you like anymore?" and I said "yes, of course!" with the undertone of "not a chance in hell!"
she didn't get the sarcasm [which was only half-serious], so I have three more on the way. I am truly blessed.
this morning, I realized that I am not in control of my life. no, I am not - because I am easily swayed by two things:
a) the weather:
last week - or two weeks ago - the weather was gorgeous. it turned me into not only a bad poet, but also a boring conversationalist. I would say things like "o what a glorious day .." [not "oh" - but "o." there's a difference], and "how about that great weather?" [after about the twelfth time, it fails to elicit a stimulating response]
after a few days, I could have possibly foreseen myself watching the Weather Channel for fun. a friend would say "how about that episode of Survivor?" and I would say, "so, the Weather Channel was having a special on storms last night .."
in a perfect world, this would have happened. but instead, this week - and last week, let's not mention the snow, let's not - is hideous and serving serving up a special entree of spit from the sky. so I hate everybody and everything - and no, I do not carry an umbrella.
b) chemical substances:
since others can talk about "chemical substances" more satisfactorily than I can - I will discuss the number one commercially viable brew in corporate culture: coffee.
I never imbibe caffeine that much anymore, but today I did.
and coffee percolated straight from my heart all morning. end of story.
~~~
but that was then, and this is now. after the coffee high wears off, the hilarity turns to philosophy, and I am tempted to read coffee grinds like my grandma reads tea leaves [she doesn't, but let's just pretend].
for if life is only a switch of the on/off at the coffee maker, a move eastwards of the clouds in Milwaukee - and a sleep of one more, or one less hour at night ... why don't I just lie down here on the concrete and put on my headphones? because I might as well wait until the clouds pass and the coffee filters to be happy again. I don't have to lift a finger - not for my career, not for a lecherous passersby [the middle finger], and certainly not for my fellow man [and woman].
of course, I don't mean this. but as a single child who usually strives for control over life, I am constantly reevaluating how much control I have, and how much I really need.
because if I feel shitty because the coffee maker is broken - which is not my fault - then I shouldn't worry about it, right? I don't have to fix anything in my life, I just need someone to fix the damn coffee maker. and though I may have to fix it myself - it's not personal, it's technical services.
sometimes, I need to to figure out what is me .. and what is just the coffee maker. | | |
| maybe it's because I've been reading too many crappy romance manuscripts, but I can't read any articles about war and I can't watch CNN. I can only look at pictures, and here are some:
~~~
Iraqi children played near a communication center in Baghdad that was damaged in coalition bombings.
In Hilla, an Iraqi man cried over the bodies of his children.
At an undisclosed air base, Lance Cpl. Julio Martinez sat after a service for three marines killed in a helicopter crash Sunday.
The hospital in Hilla was short on beds, and this injured Iraqi child ended up sleeping on the floor.
A soldier from the Army's Third Infantry Division rested in Karbala after a night of heavy fighting.
Iraqis on Tuesday passed by a bomb that did not detonate in the southern province of Babylon.
~~~
these are not intended to bias anyone either way, just that there are losses on both sides.
*courtesy of New York Times | | |
|
