I'm metamorphosing into a hippie

I have been fearful of this. But it's slowly and unwittingly becoming my reality.

I was super EXCITED to receive Dr. Bronner's magic soap as a gift from Tonkhero, after I expressed my desire to also have a complexion of a fifteen year old girl. Read about the soap's organic ingredients that support and encourage sustainable argriculture, ecological processing methods and fair trade. Also, Dr. Bronner's missive on social responsibility is a must-read. He seems a bit crazy, but the man makes sense to me.

Then, instead of my standard fare of alcoholic beverages and/or store-bought goodies, I made a hippie dippie casserole for Minnie Mouse's potluck this weekend. The ingredients include... (drum roll, please)... mashed sweet potatoes, ground soy mixed with vegetables and organic nonfat plain yogurt, and organic refried black beans with organic gouda cheese sprinkled on top.

What is happening to me?? HELP!!

My first heavy metal concert

As a social experiment, I agreed to accompany Pure White to see the following bands:



Can you believe it? It was actually fun. Here are my keen observations:

1) Heavy metal enthusiasts have perfected the head nodding as well as the devil's horn hand sign.

I wish I could easily whip out a devil's horn sign but it's not instinctual for me. I actually have to think about it. And the head nodding... dude, who said white people don't have any rhythm? They do when they jam to heavy metal, that's for sure. But I do worry for their brains... all that nodding, especially the head twirl, cannot be good for the preservation of brain cells. For true enthusiasts, I recommend fish oil pills before attending a concert. Also, ear plugs are key.

2) Speaking of devil's horns, is that why every lead singer sounds like Satan? I'm sure it's no coincidence that Lamb of God sung a song entitled, "Take a Walk with Me in Hell."

3) There were only like ten women in attendence. When Pure White and I arrived at the Wiltern, I was the only person in the women's security line and had to wait for Jeff to be cleared. The lead singer of Machine Head also made a comment about naked heavy metal chicks... all 17 of us. Ironically, despite the lack of female presence, I still had to wait in line at the women's bathroom!

4) Mosh pits are fascinating. There's a certain synchronicity to the hyper-aggressive ritual. At first glance, it seems violent and scary. But after a while, you realize that, what all those stupid boys are doing is simply pushing each other in circles. I now see that moshing is actually a form of dance. In fact, I couldn't stop watching it from above. What's even more intriguing is whenever someone from the audience began to body surf on top of the crowd, the big black body guards in the front row would immediately stop it. Yet they never stopped the moshing. So it made me think that the Wiltern's liability insurance probably doesn't cover negligent falls from body surfing. Injuries from moshing, however, are probably cheaper to insure. God, I get sick when I realize how much I think like a lawyer.

Overall, my first heavy metal concert was enjoyable. I don't know if I would go again, but I'm glad I went. Thanks, Pure White!

Just another manic monday

I was suppose to see this riveting documentary after work. But Tron cancelled on me. For a woman, no less. And no one else seemed interested. I wonder why? For real, why? I think it's a pretty good concept and I'm always interested to see what those wacky Chinese villagers are up to.

So, instead, I ventured to the westside to check out this book reading by Norah Vincent, author of Self-Made Man.

In the book, Norah shares her journey of going undercover as a man for eighteen months. It's kind of like John Howard Griffin's Black Like Me, but unlike Griffin's book which totally confirmed why I hate white people, Norah's book actually exhibits sympathy for men. That's what the audience said anyway. And can I tell you how kooky the audience was! Thank god I had two cocktails at Houstons beforehand, thanks to my buddies Plus, Blu-Tooth and Michael! By the way, why is it so easy to get people to come out for drinks than see a documentary about newly-empowered Chinese villagers with access to modern digital freedom? Fucken drunks.

So back to the audience. Although I was impressed with the diversity of the group, in terms of race, gender and sexual orientation, you could tell most of the folks were academics. And why is it that before an academic asks a question in a public forum, he or she must provide complete disclosure of his/her identity?

I am a middle-class African American lesbian of color born and raised in the melting pot of Los Angeles with an abusive alcoholic father and albino mother and a cat with three legs.

Are you fucken serious? Just ask your stupid question, please. But no.

I was raised as an Orthodox Jew but studied eastern philosophy at a community college and now I perform accupunture on people who are frightened to leave their homes and I find it very rewarding and... oh, I forgot my question.

Then these two ladies get into a heated debate with an obnoxious straight Asian male, a Latino guy, and a gay white man (sounds like I'm starting a joke, huh?) about the differences between hetero-male sexuality and gay-male sexuality. This went on for a while. Poor Norah.

Truth be told, much of it was interesting despite the annoying personalities. Norah made one statement that made me ponder: "The one thing that prevents heterosexual men from freely engaging in polygamous relationships is... the woman." Norah admitted that her statement is an overgeneralization but true in many cases. I've been thinking a lot about monogamy lately and I'm not so sure if it works either, particularly in our day and age when marriage is no longer a necessity of life.

Don't get me wrong. I value partnerships. But why can't you have partnerships with multiple people, especially when it's unlikely that one person will be your everything? Why should you compromise and have less than everything you deserve and desire? Why settle on one person who has only half of everything when two halves make a whole?

You know, four fourths make a whole too.

Gee. Things that make you go hmm.

Beware of becoming a garden lady

This morning, Pure White and I volunteered at a community garden at a middle school in the westside. Since I am interested in learning to grow vegetables this year, I thought that volunteering at a community garden would be a nice introduction to gardening in general.

Well, I was wrong. It's kind of like how I thought working as a Project Assistant at a big corporate law firm would be a good introduction to law school. It's not. Fortunately, I only committed to one morning of gardening versus the full year at Jenner & Block where my spirit suffocated.

We were asked to pull weeds. And not the type of weeds I am accustomed to.

It was cool and all but I like the weeds. They are living creatures too and should have an opportunity to survive, just like the rest of the plants. But Pure White said that if we allow the weeds to live, the other plants will die. I suppose so. I'm just not comfortable playing God. So I kept Pure White company while he rigorously weeded an entire section. Check it out:

I was impressed by Pure White's vigor... and a bit fearful too. I had no idea how much he enjoyed rolling around in dirt.

Pure White said pulling weeds reminds him of his childhood when he played with dirt all the time. Now I understand why he often refers to himself as Dirty Jeff. This whole time I thought the moniker was figurative. Again, I stand corrected.

We did agree to Beware of Becoming A Garden Lady if we do decide to continue volunteering or developing our own gardens. Here is a sample conversation I had with the coordinator aka Garden Lady:

GL: Don't you love these plants?

DYY: Yes, I do. Hey, am I pulling the right weeds?

GL: We planted them last year. The leaves are wilting because of the crazy weather, but they are still doing well.

DYY: Uh huh. Hey, where do we throw away these weeds?

GL: If only the school allowed me to do what I want with this space. It wouldn't look like this. (And she walks away talking to herself)

She later returned and asked me to plant these two succulents. Yes! This is what I'm talking about. Giving life, not taking it away!

Sweet, huh? But planting only took two minutes to do. So here I am entertaining myself while I waited for Pure White/Dirty Jeff to complete his labor:

Sometimes simple is sweeter

Christopher totally scored on his birthday gifts. He received clothes, games and tons of toys. All of the board games were boring (since he's still four) but the toys were very flashy. I was jealous. For example, he received:

• battery-powered "Shake N Go" race cars and delux race tracks with flashing lights and loud obnoxious race sounds;
• a remote-controlled monster truck, also with obnoxious sounds;
  
• a complete set of "Home Depot" plastic power tools (interestingly, he received two of the same set... I guess there was a sale at Toys R Us);
• a miniture-size Harley Davidson motorcycle and motorcyclist that operates on an actual foot pump.

Per the recommendation of my sister who said the boys are obsessed with Thomas and Friends, I bought the boys wooden Thomas trains and Thomas toothbrushes and Thomas swimming trunks and pajamas. However, the item that Christopher played with the most is the construction paper I brought along with me:

I taught Christopher how to fly paper airplanes last summer, but we were limited to lifeless notebook paper. So this time I purchased construction paper with cool designs and colors. We already spent two afternoons making and flying airplanes. We even made spaceships by taping two airplanes together and fastening ribbons at the bottom to give an illusion of fire shooting from the engine as it soars through the air. My brother-in-law also joined in on the fun and began folding other types of airplanes. As you can see above, my skills are limited to one style.

Trapped in a Cuckoo Nest aka 4 year old bday party

Everyone knows I adore my nephew. He turned 4 yesterday and today is his big birthday celebration. The theme is Cars from an ostensibly famous Disney movie. I don't know, I haven't seen the movie nor have I read about it in the trades. So I asked my sister (his mother) if kids are going to come dressed as cars. She said no. I thought to myself, what kind of booty theme party is this? Well, actually, I think I said it out loud. Regardless, Christopher and I were excited all day. We love birthdays. I teased him all day that it was really my birthday and my party and my cake and my gifts and my guests. He didn't believe me and responded that the guests are "my people." He also insisted that it's a 4 year old birthday party and surmised that I'm 13. He's a smart kid.

My excitement soon dissipated when the children and parents arrived. The once tranquil suburban San Jose home turned into a 1950's mental institution. I couldn't help but to transfigure myself from a normally outgoing party person into a quiet observer of a scientific social experiment. Let me attempt to explain:

(1) The four-year olds are the schizophrenics. They chase each other around, yell for no reason, and expect others to satiate their demands at once... or they will show you how crazy they really are. They tend to hundle in groups and when they do, they are extremely dangerous.

(2) The two-year olds are the sociopaths. They prefer to play alone and hardly notice each other... until one of them wants the toy of the other and then the blood match is on!! Having no ability to share, they will cry, scream, hit, kick and bite your hand off if you interfere with their primal interests. They look super cute, but I wouldn't trust them.

(3) The parents are the staff. Some are administrators, so they just sit around and complain (likely due to incompetence), and sometimes entertain the patients. These are usually the fathers. The others are the nurses. They feed, clean, and comfort the patients. These are usually the mothers. Both are overworked, understaffed and completely consumed. They often engage in shop talk.

(4) I am the hot Ph.D student who occasionally visits and studies the institution as part of a thesis. Everyone is cordial to the student, but no one can really relate to her. She can't relate to them either. So instead of engaging in trite small talk with the staff, or in a wacky incomprehensible conversation with the patients, she chooses to sit alone with her laptop and pretends to work on her thesis.

Unlike a true mental institution, however, there is no psychiatric medication available at a four-year old birthday party. Curses.

What's wong with my Engrish?

This ad haunted me throughout my travels in NYC.

Boogie down in Brooklyn

Miss Ritu Singha (producer of upcoming movie, TRON -- watch for it) and I went to the Caddyshack in Brooklyn on Friday night. With this description from the Village Voice, we couldn't resist:

Sadly, there are no strip clubs for dykes in the city. If lady lovers wanted to see the gravity-defying acrobatics of pole-dancing, they had to visit a gentlemen's club. That is, until Cattyshack began featuring women working the pole, which is positioned on the bar with a red light for extra effect. Friday night's Cirrah party features the best of the lot. Hostess Aja announces each of the dancers, who saunter their way to the bar in occasionally elaborate, always shimmery ensembles from bikini tops to pasties. These ladies have a way of making you feel like every split and spin is just for you. They climb the metal with an ease that's almost unsettling and with just as much skill as any hair-swinger at the local strip bars for dudes. Just don't forget your singles.

We had a lovely time. Here are some highlights and observations:

(1) No matter what kind of club you are in, or sexual preference you may have, pole dancers are hot. No one can deny this.

(2) Race is deep, man. There is racial segregation in our cities, in our schools, in our workplaces... so why not at the local lesbian bar? The upstairs of the Caddyshack was occupied by all white women while the downstairs had all the women of color. The upstairs played 80s music while the downstairs played hip hop and dance music. Coincidence? I doubt it.

(3) Any bar that has a Ms. Pac Man machine is an excellent venue.

(4) We received major attitude from some of the women (particularly the ones from upstairs, maybe because we crossed racial lines?) for absolutely no reason. For reals, no reason. Hello, Ladies, what happen to sister solidarity? I love you bitches, you don't even know. Haters need to bring back happy in the gay...

(5) Why is it that every time I hang out with Miss Ritu, management tells us to shut up?

And why is it that we never listen and end up mocking them instead?? Ah, good times.

"We are still... the Pet Shop Boys"

That's what Neil Tennant (on the left) said at the conclusion of their concert yesterday at the Wiltern Theater. Chris Lowe (on the right) was silent most of the night, marking his genius at the keyboard while wearing the exact same neon yellow hoodie and shades pictured above.

Not only are they still the Pet Shop Boys, but they are still very cool. The concert was amazing and they are awesome live. I swear, Neil's vocals sound just like they do on their cds! Thankfully, they played many of their old hits and we went crazy. It was really wonderful.

Lady Pun and I decided to go last minute. Thanks to Jane, we were fortunate to get discount tickets ($15 plus surcharges... original price was $65!). With the discount, it was even more worthwhile.

Yes, they are old. They don't look like this anymore, actually:

They can no longer prance around like they did back in the day, nor partake in any theatrics. And the audience was old, which made me think of my own fleeting youth...

But I actually think they are way cooler now... instead of prancing around themselves, they hired gorgeous gay men to prance on stage for them! Now that's hot. The dancers and back-up singers wore a multitude of lavish costumes that ranged from urban couture to head-to-toe white jumpers to sparkly golden cowboy outfits to flashy naval uniforms... there were at least 2 costume changes with each song.

Unfortunately, no one else in the theater (occupied only by gay white men and Asian people) dressed up for the ultimate new wave electro pop concert of the year except for the Pet Shop Boys, their dancers, and us:

Dude, we could pass for the Asian version of the West End Girls, a tribute band for the Pet Shop Boys. Perhaps we should call ourselves the East End Girls?

This young Swedish duo (only 17 years old!) sing only cover songs from Pet Shop Boys albums.

Although Joe introduced me to the West End Girls, the first time time I heard of tribute bands was when I read Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs. Author Chuck Klosterman, who was my hero for a minute (he did not have lasting power over me, unlike Gandhi), toured with Paradise City, a tribute band for Guns N' Roses. It wasn't until I read Chuck's book did I learn that most well-known singers and bands have a following of impersonators who make a pretty decent living singing the songs of the original performers.

Chuck describes these impersonators perfectly: These bands are mired in obsurity and engaged in a bizarrely postmodern zero sum game. If a tribute band were to completely succeed, its members would no longer have personalities. They would have no character whatsoever, beyond the qualities of whomever they tried to emulate. The goal is not to be somebody; the goal is to be somebody else.

Well-written, Chuck. That's why you were my hero for like two minutes. The Pet Shop Boys, on the other hand, have earned my loyalty. I am a fan for life.

Kudos on Judo

So my roommates and I were flipping channels when we came across a tournament that mix-matches competitors from different schools of martial arts.

We watched a kickboxer fight a judo wrestler. It was crazy madness! I have never seen a judo match before, and had no idea of the techniques involved in judo. Basically, you trap your competitor in a submission position and beat the shit out of him.

As a pacifist, I found it totally appalling... but strangely, I couldn't take my eyes off of the TV. The same thing happens when I watch boxing or a street fight. I can't help but to be disturbed and intrigued at the same time. Yes, I too am a victim of our hyper-violent society.

Lady Pun, a former kickboxer who actually competed in her day, and Tron, a super lightweight wrestler in high school, found the match exciting. And it was. But I don't know. It just felt awful, with the blood everywhere and all. I feel less guilt watching a pornographic movie.

The judo guy won, by the way. He was pretty awesome.

Mother Nature and Me

Photo by DYY

In celebration of our nation's labor, I traveled to the Pacific Northwest (the Olympic Peninsula, to be precise) for some camping and outdoor festivities. During this trip, DYY and Mother Nature were total BFFs.I followed the advice of this hand-made pillow we found in our room of this kitchy-cute but low-rent motel in Port Angeles where we stayed before venturing into the wilderness.

As a Student of Nature, I learned so much in only a few days. I can't even contain all that I have absorbed. I feel like a tree during photosynthesis... and below is my sugar.

DYY's Top Twelve List of New Things Taught by Mother Nature

(12) SEA OTTERS ARE SO COOL

Thanks to a free pamphet distributed by the Olympic National Park Service, I learned that sea otters are really fuckin cool. What struck me most wasn't that they are super useful in preserving kelp forests by feeding on sea urchins that graze on kelp, but that they can grow up to five feet tall and weigh up to 60-100 pounds! Dude, I'm 5'4'' and 100 something pounds. So, a sea otter is like a prepubescent tween, but (presumably) lacks the tweeny attitude that makes you want to slap tweens in the face.

Unfortunately, I did not see one. I was bummed. Because if I had, I would ask it to join our camp and chill out with us. I could see the sea otter and I sharing a joint under the stars. Don't they seem like they would get high if they could? Dude, there's a reason why they're always backfloating...

I also learned ways to help our new furry friends.

(11) TROLLS DO LIVE IN TREES

I woke this one up when I tried peeing in the hole. Oops.

(10) RAINFORESTS AREN'T AS SCARY AS THEY SEEM

Photos by Tonkhero & DYY

(9) SLUGS ARE AS UGLY AS THEY SEEM (BUT STILL NEAT)

I wanted to videotape the slug but it was going so slow and I got bored. It's really gross looking, by the way. It looks like a slivering turd. Speaking of turds...

(8) ANIMAL TRACKS AND SCATS ARE MORE INTERESTING THAN HUMAN TRACKS AND SCATS

Pictured above is Elk skat. Upon cursory examination, Tonkhero labeled it right away. God, he is so smart.

(7) CAMPING CAN BE EXHAUSTING

I had to take a nap once we found our campsite. It is incredible how exhausted I was. I think the local store in Port Angeles added some rufies in my tuna sandwich. And this whole time, I thought the town was known for meth... boy, was I wrong.

(6) THE LOGGING INDUSTRY IS FUCKED UP

As we drove through the mountains on route to the Peninsula, we saw first hand the ecological destruction of clearcuts and logging on the environment. It's quite alarming and real ugly, and apparently, horrible on the ecosystem. Tonkhero and I had a very long discussion about it during our car ride, and I was fortunate to apply what we discussed by personally witnessing the devastation and its accompanying propaganda by the logging industry. It's crazy. For more info, check this out.

(5) SMOKED SALMON AND OTHER SNACKS TASTE BETTER OUTDOORS

I don't quite understand this phenomenon, but it's true. I have a feeling that I would not have enjoyed Washington State's speciality of Smoked Wild Sockeye Salmon quite as much if I had consumed it in my living room. Tom's jalapeno chips, sugar glazed oatmeal cookies, Tasty Bites (packets of Indian entrees that you add boiling water and voila!), smores, peaches, goldfish crackers, etc., were all so so good. Tonkhero did a good job shopping for food. I couldn't stop eating. But then again, what else could we do? There's nothing else out there but you, Mother Nature, and preserved treats and goodies!

(4) PEEING OUTDOORS IS BETTER THAN PEEING AT THE PARK'S PUBLIC RESTROOMS

And forget about shitting! The public bathrooms were gross. That is why we had to travel to the closest town (Forks, WA) for me to do Number Two. After all the eating I described above, I really needed to go!

As a city girl, I find rural towns to be refreshing and charming at times... and you can find the best vintage earrings at some of their second-hand stores. But not at Forks. One could recognize immediately that Forks was a once-thriving logging community that the industry has abandoned due to its depressed economy. That's what Tonkhero said anyway.

One cool thing about Forks is this Chinese restaurant called Golden Gate Restaurant. Owned by Cantonese proprietors, I believe they gave me extra MSG in my chicken fried rice. Score! And the cutest eight-year old boy, very chubby and precocious, worked the register. Oh, how chinese child labor brings back sweet memories of my own childhood! I hope that boy grows up to do great things in Forks, WA.

(3) A CAMPFIRE IS KEY TO ANY CAMPING EXPERIENCE

We had a fire each night. The one pictured above was at the beach. I had collected enough wood that night to have a fire last for several hours. It was great fun, to see the fire illuminate the pitch black darkness and to be hypnotized by the wild flames. It was interesting to learn how to control the intensity of the flame by how you stack the wood, and to examine which wood would burn at what rate. That night, I developed a sincere appreciation for the types of wood we have available on this earth. Yeah, and I'm also a slight pyro...

(2) THE BEACH IS SURROUNDED BY ROCKS

This is your brain on drugs. SAY NO TO DRUGS. Thank you.

Instead of sand, the ocean crashed against rocks. Because there are so many rivers in the forests, a countless number of rocks are streamed from the rivers to the ocean via rainfall. There is not enough time for the rocks to naturally grind into sand because there are so many rocks and so much rainfall. Hence, a beach filled with cool clean rocks and pebbles. I've never seen anything like it. It was pretty awesome.

(1) CAMPING ON THE BEACH IS THE ABSOLUTE BEST!!

Photo by DYY

If you haven't tried it, you must. It's the tops!

Casper, is that you?

Queen Mary, port side, Long Beach, CA

Two of the world's most famous ocean liners will meet for the first time Thursday in the Port of Long Beach in an event expected to draw hundreds of former passengers, ship buffs and other curious onlookers.

Today's LA Times features an article about how the Queen Mary 2, the world's largest passenger ship, is scheduled to pull near its namesake, the retired 1936-vintage Queen Mary, now a hotel and museum at the port.

This reminds me immediately of my recent overnight stay at the vintage (and reputably haunted) Queen Mary when BF's friend hosted a wedding party there... and when I saw a ghost.

I can't ascertain for a fact if what I saw was truly a ghost, but I will speak the facts and you can decide for yourself.

After being in traffic for what seemed like two hours before we arrive at Long Beach, I needed to pee so bad. I step onto the Queen Mary and practically run for the bathroom which, by the way, was located at the end of a very long and eerie hallway. I quickly step inside and into a stall... while a woman inside another stall is humming. I don't think much of it because I am so focused on peeing.

But real soon I start to think it's odd she keeps humming, even though she knows I'm there... and that she hums the same several chords... over and over and over again. Then I realize, Fuck... I'm on the Queen Mary, this shit is haunted! Still peeing, I bend over from my position in the stall and look under... two stalls to my right, I see a pair of adult-size feet, dangling from the toliet... without socks or shoes. In fact, the lady or ghost is slowly putting on her socks and shoes... and still humming! The same few chords!

So at this point, I totally freak out. I begin having images that the humming will stop, and the lady/ghost will be in front of my face.

I make myself stop peeing, and run out of the bathroom... I don't even wash my hands! The funny thing is, before I leave the bathroom, I quickly turn the faucet on and then off so that the lady/ghost doesn't realize I just pee-ed without washing my hands!