Vacation from Vacation

For some reason, before I went down to Guatemala this most recent time, I decided I wanted to go to the beach, and that I wanted to go with my friends. The ones who make me laugh.

I first told Dannyboy about it. He said "no way man, Monterricco sucks". He had never actually been to Monterricco. With the contrary opinions of Bernhard, Joss and Lisa, Danny agreed to go. Alex (the tri-passport holding man of many wise words yet not that many years), Fernando from San P and an Israeli chick Daphna joined us. We took a private shuttle and partayed the whole way to the beach. The hotel (a place I have stayed before called Brisas Del Mar) was smart and put us all in the back buildings. Which allowed us to rage all night long on the front porches and lawns of our little cottages. I convinced Danny to bring the speakers (man, I am full of simple yet good ideas) and I got to be dj the whole time. Despite not having my Crapple computer (it is currently in the shop....surprise surprise) I still brought some music down that seemed good enough for everyone. I know it was good enough for me!

In the morning, the boys would go buy fish from the fisherman for what ended up being $1.50 or so a pound. We'd chill amidst flowers on the grass laughing hungover and eventually would make our way to the beach. The water was perfect except for one day when the waves were WAY too big to even try to deal with. Danny and Alex went in and I am glad that Danny's still alive. It looked like Hawaii at some points that day. But besides that, it was great swimming. Although I don't actually do too much swimming. I prefer standing or floating around, and catching the occasional wave in, if the tide and undertow are right. Lisa didn't swim at all. She'd stand along where the ocean met the sand and watch the waves spit out the boys. Bernhard and Alex are both Picses and they seemed to be in the water the most. The lovely female Canadian Alex also joined us for a few days- she was a Picses too and was fucking cool.

We'd set up camp under palm trees a ways from the water, on the sand in front of beach grass. And garbage. There's alot of garbage in Guatemala. I think they were too busy dealing with the 40 years of war to get into things like Earth Day and Reduce-Reuse-Recycle. It's all good though. I used some stuff I found on the ground.

We'd lay out blankets and they'd prepare the fish and the fire, and sometimes veggies and we'd chill, drink, and laugh. We'd marvel at how good live is. Cause....it is.

For the sunset we'd go to Johnny's Place, where I've been going for years. It's a fancier resort with a bar on the ocean and they serve these really good chocolate banana rum drinks. You can chill in their hammocks (although they made it less comfortable than it used to be), order food if you like, etc. Our group sort of took the San Pedro to Johnny's Place- stirred up things just a little bit energetically. After a night or two, the bar staff was not too fond of us. That's their fault I think, since we were spending a substantial amount of money, and were polite to them. You know what I am realizing more and more though? People whose job it is to deal with other people are often miserable, no matter what. Miserable people are miserable people, and it doesn't matter if you are nice to them or not, because they will still be miserable. This doesn't mean I am going to just be a bitch to whomever.....I am still nice to people. But I am just remember that some unfortunate people find it painful to be happy. It hurts some to smile.

On the contrary, I love this fucking thing called happiness. I know it's not something that I can grasp always, 100% of the time, but let me tell you- I fucking love laughing with my friends. And my family. And complete strangers too, even. (That happens every now with the right timing, and it's fun to feel awkward unfamiliarity switch like a light into fondness and familiarity).

But yeah- my vacation from vacation made me so happy. I kind of like thinking of my life in the terms of one vacation to the other, with some work in between. A vacation to vacation to vacation to vacation to vacation with work winding its way in between. Like a thin thread of labor stitched throughout a beautiful shimmery-shiny fabric of leisurely fun.

Wow.

Wow is the word for the recent weeks I have enjoyed. I won't even bother going into too much detail here. Spent a few weeks back in Guatemala, watched the sunrise for the new year over volcanoes and a glistening lake. I have had tons of fun and alot of clarity in what I want to be doing and where I want to be doing it at. It is time bust a move.

Same As It Ever Was, Yet A Work In Progress

A Portrait of Self 4 Years Later

Sometimes I still drink so much wine that I turn into a grape. Definitely not as often as I used to, but it happens. And that is fine for now- it is what I like to do.

I still fall in love. And it really is love. All different kinds of love, I realize. And yeah- sometimes I fall out of it. But not always. I am learning and un-learning. There are a zillion ways to love.

I still need electronic music. I highly doubt that will change. But, you never know.

I still feel good about my journey through life. I mean really- how could it be otherwise? This is it and so I do it and I am lucky to enjoy this. So very much.

I don’t hear whispers from the status quo at all anymore. I don’t even really think the status quo exists. And I appreciate those who help bust up the dupery of what us common people should accept. Thanks guys.

Somedays my tired body aches and my mind races. Other days my body races and my tired mind aches.

Each time I am still dancing when the sun has risen, it is not a good morning. It is a fucking great morning.

Before: Portrait of Self 2008

What Happens When I Feel Up Fruit?

I've realized that every time I go to the produce section of a supermarket, I get depressed. There are a few reasons for this. I see fruit and vegetables that are brought in from all over the world, just to rot. When I am feeling around for stuff that is ripe to my liking, I am sometimes tempted to take things that aren't perfect, because I know they are going to go to waste. These items are not rotting or defected to the point where they are deemed sale-worthy, either (meaning that they are not going to get separated and put on a discount shelf). So, the idea of tons of produce going to waste depresses me. As a sidenote, buying locally is a nice idea, but is not even an option in my Brooklyn neighborhood.

Then, I start thinking about the earth's dwindling ability to produce food for its entire population in general. I just don't see how it can be done in a responsible way in the future. If it's not done responsibly now- what is going to happen when desperation enters the picture?

I'll tell you what is going to happen- the Cornucopians are going to step in. They already have. (Note: I try to block out most of what I learned studying politics in college, but occasionally, it rears its hideously realist, debbie-downer head.) Cornucopians essentially feel that increasing demand for dwindling supply can always be met due to advances in technology. That is my own, personal description. They are optimists and believe that science will always have an answer to any problems that arise. They don't get depressed in the produce section of the grocery store.

People like me get depressed at the grocery store. This guy back at the start of the 19th century named Thomas Malthus wrote about the potential problems that would arise with population and agriculture. His ideas counter those of Cornucopians, and predict that eventually, there will be widespread poverty since population will supersede the ability to produce food. A term for this is a Malthusian Catastrophe, and it is often extended beyond food sources, into oil supply and economic growth. We see this happening already. (And those things also depress me, but that's for another day...)

Now, Cornucopians will argue that constant advances in technology will prevent widespread famine from occurring. Genetically modified food is a perfect example. But in my eyes, quick answers to long-term problems have the potential to be devastating beyond repair. In a Cornucopian's eyes, there will always be a way to fix something wrong, and if that solution has negative effects, than they will just find a way to fix it. Interestingly enough, most of the men I date are of the Cornucopian ilk. Maybe that's why I date them- for their innovation and positivity. Or maybe they just pretend to be that way, to make us both feel better.

Yes. This is what goes through my mind as I walk through the aisles of the grocery store, feeling up the fruit.

City Living

Old friends and new...... If you are attending Burning Man this year, feel free to comment or message me with your location, any events or things of interest, or places and times you are playing music.

I will be with my old new paltz, new york/california pals and some others right next to Pink Mammoth. (Pink Mammoth is a San Francisco-based, well-established yet unofficial party spot with a pink bar, serious dancefloor, daily packed happy hour, and house music. It is usually at 8:30 and G).

Get a teenytiny notebook, keep track of the happs and where people are at, and slip it in your fanny pack with your altoids....

Our crew will be next to/behind Pink Mammmoth, at approximately 8:40 and G or G/H. Unofficially, we are Camp in the Cut, or the Infinity Crew. Just keep your eyes peeled for weirdo pretty people in the shade, and listen for lots of laughing. And strong, male accents from New York. (Yeah....I know.... them's the breaks....)

Our more exotic amenities include but are not limited to:

homemade tv film set with a backdrop to film Charlie-Rose-esque interviews, hosted by Roscoe

strange large pick-up-sticks like structure, with fabric somehow involved

graffiti wall

cuddle pool

lots of homemade absynthe, tried and true



My personal endeavors this year are modest and reasonable. They include:

-Bartending Thursday around 4pm or so at the Burning Man Radio station, right next to the DMV. This is in conjunction with The Billion Bunny March.

-Putting up alot of my poetry. Debut of internet-unfriendly pieces including "Paper or Drop" and "Where the Good Green Grows" along with the usual R-rated and comedic classics. Poetry will be taped to the outside of portapotties. Especially at 8:30 and G.

- Tequila. I will be bringing alot of great blanco tequila, so if you need a pick-me-up, you know who to find. (Delicious juice optional)

- Postcards with a Metropolis-themed piece of my writing called "I am What I am". I will be giving them out, and I will have stamps, can mail them for you from Black Rock City post office, and then they will have a postmark from Black Rock City. Bring an address of a friend who can't make it this year.....Or send one to your grandma......

- Firehooping with my broken firehoop

Finally, we will also hopefully have a tiny camp on the opposite side of the playa, between 2 and 4. It will be called Bizarro World and contrary to my main place, it will be for serious, desperate partying measures only. This will be a party survival camp with little to no creative visual arts, save the flesh of hot, intoxicated bodies. Box wine and granola bars will reign as Queen and King here.

So, that's it as of now. I would love to see you! And please, message me or comment about where you will be or what happenings you are looking forward to being around for

My Evening Has Been Nice

my evening has been nice. this is for a few reasons. i drove to manhattan to pick up 2 burning man tickets for $250 each. i found this deal on craigslist. the drive went well; i like driving around nyc. it was very enjoyable. and now i have burning man tickets for myself and my best friend erin who has not been yet. she is my bestie- my honorary sister, and i am so excited.

then, driving home, i thought of white castle. a few days ago on the way to the beach, a friend and i stopped at the drive-thru and ordered 2 cheeseburgers for the taste. we paid, but he drove away without getting the food and we did not realize it until a few minutes later. we are dum-dums. shortly after thinking of white castle, i saw one. so i went. i parked; this white castle was nice, with 2 outside umbrella-clad tables, and no bulletproof glass. i could go there on a date. i got many things off the menu, including my first chicken rings. the chicken rings were good, but they seem like an exotic chicken from another planet, like jupiter or mars. i could tell i was not eating actual chicken from earth. but they did taste good. and i had a conversation with a fellow white castle customer because we both like whitecastle - he had not had it in 5 years but saw it on his way to church and just had to stop.

i picked up a tiny pulled pork sandwich for my best guy friend aka the brother i always wanted aka myk tummolo aka dos melo. it is his birthday tonight and i want to see him eat the tiny sandwich with his fat fingers, all in one bite.

this evening is nice because my other brother i never wanted, saylor, is back from south america.

plus, my roommate is back from san diego. she is a big sweetie. and my other roommate and i got to chat for a while and catch up about life.

the moon is beautiful tonight, as is the weather

and the icing? i let the neighborhood cat into our apartment and she/he has been hanging around for a while, and i feel like it's my cat for the time being.


that is just some of the ways my evening has been nice.

There Are Drops of Sadness, Hate and Frustration

There are drops of hate, sadness and frustration inside of me. These drops trickle out for 2 reasons- cell phones and banks. I hate these 2 things- they are the only true evil that plagues my world.

Usually I focus my hate towards the cell phone company. but yesterday I got my phone wet, and it is all my fault. so now I am focusing my hate towards the phone itself. Why can't you be like other phones, and work after water damage? Stupid phone. you are made of good korean craftsmanship. I expect more. not that much more, but more, nonetheless.

It's a good thing I have another phone or two waiting in the wings for occasions like this.

I think I am going to try out metro pcs too, by the way, as an experiment.

The BEst

skjdhfg sdkjhfg sdjkhfg skjdhgf sdkhjgf sdkjhgf sdkjhgf sdkj testttttt

Flat Brim

2 years ago, I made a giant wizard hat (for my giant friend with his giant head). The wizard hat had a flat brim that I built into it.

Tomorrow is an event involving rainbows and unicorns. kaleidoscope. When I get back to NY tomorrow, I am going to attempt to make a unicorn horn, with a flat brim. I made go with an urban chic theme entirely, but I am not sure..depends on the materials I have. Definitely going to try to make the unicorn horn with the flat brim.

My Favorite

I am really really looking forward to finishing up work shortly.

My favorite food? food i eat when I am not working.
My favorite color? shades of anything I see, as long as I'm not working.
My favorite music? well, I like the same music when I am working, but I like it much better while I am not working
my favorite animal? animals that don't work

Reserve

I am so tired, but so very content. I am dirty, need a shower, slightly still hungover, hungry but lazy, hideously bruised in many places from the new bike (cause I ride it like a mountain bike although it is not), first I went the wrong way on the subway for a long time on the subway, then I fell sleep going in the right direction, yadayadayada.

Yet, contentitude is radiating outward from me. to you. Tonight I have some to spare, so I am sharing it. Use it now if you want. Or save it up for the future. There will be more too. I may package it up and hand it out, para gratis. Or wrap it up in cottonballs and glitter, get a sling shot, stand on a rooftop, and hit people when they aren't looking. Put some in my my altoids box so I have some just in case I am feeling down.

i peed on your stuff pal

i peed in your shower
i peed here on your couch
i peed in a bag, tied it around my waist
and now i've got a pee pee pouch

i peed out your window
i peed on your hairbrush
i peed, drank it fast (and liked it)
cause i'm a kinkyboozy lush


i peed on your sad, sad flowers
hoping they would grow
i peed in your alpaca slippers
it will be years before you know

i peed in the thai friendship dinner doggybag
i should be busting open right now
i'm peeing in the beer you're drinking
don't even ask me how



(the above poem was written for mik, my particularly self-centered pal in chicago)

I Applied to Be a Malt Beverage Poster Girl.

Technically, I applied to be the next "Miss Joose". Joose is a malt beverage and an energy drink combo. Tomorrow, my friend and I are having a Joose tasting on my roof (I now live in Brooklyn). Anyhow, I went to the site to see how many flavors they have (cause I know there are a fair share), and I saw that they are looking for the next Miss Joose.

Honestly, I wish to be the nest Miss Joose. It would enhance my life. Not kidding.

So this is what I wrote:

Laughing, relaxing, making crazy costumes and clothing, writing, cooking, making mini-movies and songs, camping, and partying. Seriously partying. I graduated high school a year early because I was in search of something beyond the monotonous weekends. I went to a an alternative hippie activist travel school called Friends World Program, which brought me to San Francisco for an internship. And partying. Left that, went to a NY state school. Graduated with international relations degree, worked to get Bush out of office (did not work), moved to Park City. Partied. The whole Morman dry-state thing is a myth, which you may know if you have been to Sundance. Lived on and off in NY and in Guatemala on a volcanic lake. Seriously partied. I am fortunate enough to have enjoyed a very special time when full moon parties were the thing on this lake. Watching the sunrise over volcanoes in paradise with travelers from all over the world, electronic music pumping in the background- this is an exquisite moment. A nice wrinkle in time. Partied and south america. In Argentina, people don't go to the bar until 2 am. Wine-tasting via bike. In Brasil's Sao Paulo, the government shuts the streets down for a 2-day culture festival. Which they sponsor. This includes a huge electronica party outside one of the countrie's top law schools. I went to Europe and joined these swiss friends I have, for their "one-million euro trip". They especially wanted me because I hulahoop with fire. I can hulahoop with fire and take my clothes off at the same time (but the latter is not necessary). I DJ a little- in Guatemala, El Salvador, and NY.
It is Saturday night and I am taking it easy. You know why? Because I went to a huge burning man costume party in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, and then I went to an after party at one of the many lofts we have here. And I got home at 6pm. I do not do cocaine. You know it's a good night when you get home back 6pm the next day with White Castle leftovers. Every weekend, there are a ton of loft parties that go all-night here in NY. My friends throw the parties, DJ, etc. I will DJ when I get around to it. I will also hulahoop with fire once my firehoop gets fixed.
I go to festivals. Specifically: Mountain Jam, Camp Bisco, Desiderata, Gathering of the Vibes, and Burning Man. I spend fall in Northern California. I party there. Specifically, at electronic events, burning man events, and even this secret party train through the redwoods in Mendocino county.
I don't need to drink all the time- I know this because sometimes I don't drink or party. But at the moment, I'm living it up in the nexus of my generation's culture. It's not what you do that kills you- it's the guilt you have about it. This was told to me on the Mendocino party train.
To be straight forward- I party. I will be partying for a while, around the world. My friends party. I can serve as an asset to your firm in various ways. I am idea factory. And I happen to look good.

Where is the Love?

I've heard about a place called Love in Manhattan for a while. The venue hosts the Dub Wars. Although I had a good time (I have a good time anywhere), I will not be going back. I had a million complaints about the place.

My overal review of this joint is that it tries to pass itself off as being part of the underground scene, yet in reality it is just another over-priced, over-rated place in the village. There is no sign, and there was a line of about 30 people waiting to get in at 12:30 or so. The doorguy came up to each person and said that the club had nearly reached capacity, and there was not a good chance many people on the line would get in. My friends and I prodded him a bit, and he said they did not want a long line to draw attention from the cops. Some people left, and we were in the door within 5 minutes.

In general, most of the staff I encountered were nice.

The cover was 15$. Beers were 8$, and shots and mixed drinks 10-12$. Water was 6$. The bathroom had a nice attendant and a short line, if any. The coat check had a ridiculously long line.

I wanted to buy this girl a drink, and she wanted water. At the moment, they were out of 6$ bottles of water, so this guy, who was like security, wanted to charge me 2$ for tap water. THAT IS NOT LOVE.

There was a nice, chill area to hang in, which I did for much of the time, since the place was ridiculously packed. AS usual, much of what was supposed to be dubstep was not (This is a seriously annoying fact at the moment here in New York. Bay Area people would flip out at what is played here at events that are advertised as dubstep).

There is only one dj playing at a time, and you can hear them throughout the place. Which is cool when the dj is good. When the dj is not so good.... not so much.

The speakers were excellent (and are apparently one of 7 in the country or something, as told to me by the owner or manager of Love. I complained to him a few times. I was in a complaining mood).

At one point, we were not allowed to go outside to smoke cigarettes.

I heard there was an arrest. I was also told there were undercover cops. I believe both.

Finally, it cleared out, and the regular DJs of dubwar played dubstep.

So, basically, if the dubstep/electronic/club/party scene is new to you, you would really enjoy Love, since you don't know any better. But, from the beginning, I felt exploited. I also felt like the establishment is exploiting a culture and music that I and other people hold dear to our hearts. I know what dubstep and techno parties elsewhere in the country and world are about, and Love does not care to be a part of that community. It is all about the dollars. It is obvious that Love wants both the benefits of being an underground loft party place, but it also wants the profits of a public, legally-ran club. Which is fine for some, but I got other places where I can spend too much money for a better time.

2 Days In a Row

For the past two days, before sunset, there has been this tangerine glow that comes through the window. It paints stripes of light wherever it hits, and reminds me of late spring. I can practically feel the itch and coarseness of thick, freshly cut grass underneath me.

I heard you should never wish time away, so I won't.

Burning Bodies in the Street- Not The Worst Idea for Some... Guatemalan Mob Mentality VS. Reigning Salvadoran Gangs

I have written about this already, but it disappeared when my computer's harddrive crashed. I will try to keep all the details from over a month ago straight.

2 violent mob incidents that resulted in death at Lake Atitlan occurred within a week or two of eachother. This was just before Christmas. First, there was apparently a small group of people (from the highlands, probably- definitely not from around town) who were trying to extort money from the chicken bus drivers. (Chicken buses are the main form of transportation in Guatemala. They are old converted school buses decorated in crazy psychedelic colors, are affordable, reliable, and you can take them anywhere you need to get to)

The extorters wanted to show that they meant business, so they held a bus driver at gunpoint while he was driving from Solola down to Panajachel. This is a very popular 10 minute route for both tourists and locals. The gunman was arrested, and put in jail in Solola. Townspeople were outraged- this guy represented a threat to the whole communitys wellbeing. Guatemalans have dealt with enough corruption (especially during their 30+ years of war and puppet governments). Chicken bus transportation is a system that works well, and extortion would only serve to ruin that. A mob went to the police station, and demanded that the guy be released. The police (who are quite official, have alot of jurisdiction, and make trips all across the lake to "check" on towns in their department) would not release the guy. So, the mob firebombed the police station, which resulted in the guy getting out. They took the guy, beat him, and burned his body.

The 2nd incident is eerily similar. It took place in Panajachel, the town next to Solola. Panajachel, aka "Pana" sits right on Lake Atitlan, and is bustling tourist town. 2 ladies and a guy, not affiliated with the bus extortionists, tried to extort money from a market lady. Once again, bad idea. The market is the main focus of communities throughout Central and South America, especially in a tourist town like Pana. If these strong-arming thieves were going to prey upon one market vendor, what would keep them from doing it to someone else? So, to keep the system functioning and safe, a mob from Pana demanded that the Pana police release the extortionists.

The 2 women were moved to a different jail (one was pregnant; they were probably moved to Guatemala City) but the guy was released. They tied him up, beat him to death, and burned his body in the street. Specifically, the busiest intersection in town. My friend is a teacher at a school there and said that it was riot-like, and that the body layed in the street throughout the entire day (mostly covered with a cloth) until the guy's family came and got it).

Now, I am from a small town in New York, and this sort of justice and vigilantism is incredibly foreign to me. Probably to most people from the United States. I can't say if I like it any better or not.

Just south of Guatemala is El Salvador, a small and beautiful country that has a serious problem with organized crime. Specifically, crime run by gangs. This springs from the US deporting members of the Los Angeles-based gang MS-13 back to Latin America. MS-13 now has connections both in the US and Central America, and 50,000 members in the US, El Salvador, Honduras, and Guatemala. They are ultra-powerful, and they use their power to run drugs, extort businesses, buses, and more, and reak havoc on their community. They kill bus drivers that do not accommodate their demands. They largely contribute the the alarming murder rate, which per capita is 10 times the amount of the United States', and 5 times that of Mexico's. (according to Reuters and LA Times)

So, just to widen our worldview... on one hand, you have certain regions of Guatemala with a mob justice that entails violent murder and burning of those suspected of trying to fuck up a functioning system for their own financial gain. And on the other hand, in El Salvador (and maybe other parts of Guatemala), widespread extortion is completely the norm, and the threat of violence prevents much change.

Valentine's Day in CRAZYTOWN

"He that falls in love with himself will have no rivals."
-Benjamin Franklin

Many of you might already know that..........


In CRAZYTOWN hearts are never broken, and chocolate (like all candy and soda) has life's essential vitamins and minerals. (And, as also stated in the Constitution, there is no need for prostitution because all residents' sexual desires are fulfilled....*with the exception of beastiality, pederasty, and necrophilia)


But did you know this .............

For every dollar spent on Valentine's Day merchandise outside of CRAZYTOWN, residents of CRAZYTOWN will donate $2 USD to the Human Fund's Center for Social Ineptitude.


In CRAZYTOWN, love is not all you need. In CRAZYTOWN, we know not the feeling of need, since we always get what we want.

And more importantly, as seen in Myk tumelo's cosm photo, you do not need love, you are love. This truth applies to those both inside and outside of CRAZYTOWN.


In CRAZYTOWN mythology, we believe cupid is a trans-gendered self-hating robot who fills his arrows with the tears of orphaned Chinese babies. (girls' tears only, of course)


In CRAZYTOWN, love is not blind. It sees perfectly fine, is really picky, and will settle for nothing less than what it deserves- the creme of the crop. Luckily, all residents of CRAZYTOWN surpass bestness.

In CRAZYTOWN, love does not conquer all. Fun does.

"Love is like ghosts, which everybody talks about and few have seen."
Well, in CRAZYTOWN, love is like Seinfeld, Simpsons, or The Office- enjoyable, with many
episodes that we never tire of.

"Better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all."
-St. Augustine
Ehhh- better to have loved and never lost. In CRAZYTOWN, we don't lose things.

Best Regards,
The Benevolent Dictator

A Mob of Locals Tries To Overrun Restaurants&Bars

Well, the craziness continues in San Pedro! I heard from my friends who are there that there was a large group of locals who went around to all the bars and restaurants at 10 or 11pm, demanding that they close. Apparently, customers were still eating dinner. The Mayor, with a small minority of support (the town has something like 13,000 people), is going to try to pass a law that makes bars and restaurants close by 11pm. Many of the locals make their money off of tourism- whether they own businesses, sell OJ or veggies to the restaurants, make jewelry and clothing- so most of the locals realize this is extreme. But as we know from the past, majority does not always rule. Especially like in this case, when the minority believes that Christian Evangelism will solve the problems of their socio-economic infrastructure.

Now, cleaning up drugs from town to curb rising crack addictions is reasonable. But going from business to business, vigilante-style (vigilante is Guatemala’s favorite style, by the way), harassing proprietors and customers…. this can only lead to trouble. There have been COUNTLESS hotels, tiendas, and restaurants built buy locals, and if these businesses do not make money off of tourism, many people will become impoverished. Not to mention, this vigiliantism is impeading on people's rights (the right of Guatemalan citizens and permanent residents to conduct business within the guidelines of a capitalist system). Hopefully this ebb will begin to flow back to a sane equilibrium.

**I HAVE INCLUDED SOME PICTURES FROM MY FRIEND's FACEBOOK. HE IS A RESTAURANT/BAR OWNER IN TOWN for perhaps a decade.



(Regarding top picture, as written by bar/restaurant owner Mike. This is outside of his bar/restaurant: " These guys were milling around after already closed. I opened the door to get look. They yelled at me to close and turn of lights, etc... The bastards already closed us!! Threw out 100 paying customers. They told me to "go home gringo!" After the next picture they stormed my door, beat the hell out of it, threw a rock at the window where I was and then emptied an entire canister of pepper spray!!")

Recognizing Transition

Last year while visiting Lake Atitlan, I had noticed that things in San Pedro were in transition. Along with a new mayor, there had been drug busts of many dealers (the most powerful being Mayan Grandmothers. Not joking). The mayor had a platform to clean up San Pedro, which in the eyes of many Mayan townspeople, had been overrun by hippy tourists whose recreational drug use had trickled down to the locals in the form of crack addiction.

So along with the drug busts (which may have been federal, if I remember correctly), the Mayor outlawed full moon parties. The Lake was famous for its full moon parties, and San Pedro was often a jumping point for them. With the hope of putting an end to these parties, things such as renting sound systems to party promoters and transporting people via boat taxi to desolate party locations were made illegal.

After a few years of living my winters and springs in a perfect party bliss, I recognized the transition. More and more hotels, restaurants, roads, etc were being built, yet tourism had decreased. Whereas in years previous, travelers got to San Pedro and stayed weeks, months, even years, living, sometimes working, always spending- contributing to the local economy- now, there were very few new tourists who would stay for longer than a few days. There had been a large community of people from around the world who owned restaurants, worked, and/or partied together. This community had dwindled to almost only people who were deeply tied to San Pedro because they owned businesses there, or had boyfriends or girlfriends that did. And even some of them sold their businesses, and left. So, last year, I spent most of my time in San Marcos, where my friend had the only bar in town, and a few cool girls working for him. It was a great time, but even that didn’t last. His lease was not renewed, so this year… no bar over there. Back to being a paradise of quiet yoga retreats. Fine for some, but not for me.

So, more about this year: most importantly, Lake Atitlan- the lake itself, became sick. Or should I say, it was sick for a while, and finally started to show symptoms. Apparently, a thick layer of algae called cyanobacteria bloomed on its surface. I heard it smelled like dead animals and was due to nitrogenous things including pesticides, sewage, laundry detergent, etc. This completely killed the tourism. I came just after this, shortly after the layer was gone, and the lake was back to its seemingly beautiful self. Only on the outside though- the problem has not been solved and the lake is not safe to swim in. A few days before the New Year, other tourists, many who’d previously been to the Lake, came to party. We spent our money in the establishments had just been empty. But the vibe was different for me, once again.


Also, the authorities had started putting foreigners in prison for small drug offenses. There was a list of extranjeros (the word means stranger and is a term for non-guatemalans) who'd been living in town for years. The people on this list were targets for the police, who claimed the people sold drugs. This was not true. Some of my friends were on this list. Some of my friends left Guatemala because of this list. Had I spent enough time there recently, I could have been on the list. One of the first people on this list was a rotund Italian guy in his 50's who lived out of town and rode a motorcyle. His house was the first searched, when no one knew about the list, and the police found 4 or so pot plants. He was given a 5 year prison term.


After the Lake, I went to El Salvador, where the organization I was supposed to volunteer with was located. As it turns out, the girl who started the organization (a friend of a friend), is in San Francisco, and should have told me the organization was dependent on her being there. ( It was extremely unprofessional and actually straight –up fucked up of her- what if I had not been a casual traveler familiar with the language, the region, the way things work down there?) My volunteer position teaching English, and the program, were sort of defunct, and instead of finding a different gig (possibly paying), I appreciated fate for what it was. Yes, if I had not gone to Central America for this thing, I could have taught in Korea again for a winter camp for a month, gotten paid, flown over for free, hopped to Thailand for a cooking course (this was my other option when I had been planning back in September).

But everything happens for a reason. My trip back to the Lake was a confirmation that it is no longer a place I want to spend a lot of my time, as I did in the past. I used to plan on moving back there, permanently. I have land there (or, at least, the title for it….) I enjoyed the company of a few great friends while I was there, but I was not sad to leave. It was closure. In the process, I had closed the chapter of my life that was Guatemala. And with every door that closes, a few others open.

A Possible Change of Plans

I am supposed to volunteer teaching english on the beach in El Salvador, and the people have been flaking getting back to me. The terms also were that I would get a private room in a hostel for $135/month, and now apparently, that is not the case. I am volunteering my time and skills, which is fine, but I do not appreciate the lack of answers I am receiving to my questions. I have traveled a lot in Central America and I am not very uptight about things, but what if the case were different? They are not telling me what I need to know.
So, for the past few weeks I have told them via emails, that if the hostel room is not as affordable as I thought it was, I may only volunteer for one month. Maybe I will go back to the US a month early, which means a month of making money instead of spending it. Who knows. I don't even feel like going to El Zonte, to tell you the truth. The girl who started the “organization” (who is a friend of a friend) is not even in El Salvador, and what was presented as a casually- structured program with specific protocol seems to be completely unorganized, perhaps even non-existent.

I know I do not want to just come back to the lake either, so this is not even a matter of wanting to party instead of teaching in a quiet beach village. It is the principle of being told one set of things months ago, and then being blown off and not told vital information.

I could have taught at the month-long winter camp I taught at last year in Korea, where they pay for your flight and pay you. And then I would have taken a cooking course in Thailand. This- this was my other option for the winter, and instead I chose to do this El Zonte thing. We'll see.

New Years Eve on Lake Atitlan

There ended up being a psy-trance party at Freedom for New Year's.... surprise surprise.... Around 1 or 2 am, myself, Ric, Leslie, and a bunch of the other foreigners who live here filled up a boat and went to this “Universal Dance Festival” (or something to that effect). Advertised was 3 days&nights of partying, workshops, vegetarian food, djs, live music, etc. We got there, and Dave from England started playing music... good music. I had not heard him DJ yet. I had a few little boxes of wine, tequila (which was one of my choices for the evening), and my hulahoop which lights up. Things got crazy for many of us. I met one of the organizers of the event, David, from Berkeley. He had heard about me djing at Freedom the night before and wanted me to play the next day or Saturday. I said I just had to go get my stuff from San Pedro so Saturday would be better.

At one point, maybe around 5am, Antonio, the owner of the land/house, came down, freaked out, shutting off the music. Antonio is a crazy American guy, and the place that we were at can only be reached by boat, so cops can't get there. There have been some amazing parties on his property (over in the woods along the lake, just a walk away from the party this year). But I had more or less heard Antonio is a control freak, and this proved it to be true. So, the San Pedro people we came with left, and I continued to party (sin loud music), on the lawn, with the people who were left and these little kids that came around. I was hanging with the little kids, all sorts of fucked up, blowing bubbles with them. With wands and my bubble gun, of course.

Then I went up to the house to drink more...this amazing house, with stairs winding up to different levels built into a mountain I think. There was an awesome bar area that was in the shade of a tree whose limbs sprawled out 20 feet and were intertwined with a cactus whose limbs also sprawled out. I met some more cool people, including the guatemalan bartender who said that 2012 would be the collapse of capitalism. I liked this idea.

I slept down near the lake where my friends were, and awoke to the sound of waves crashing on the lake, a fire nearby, and the sound of a band playing relaxing music. Afterward, Ric went to play, and for some reason, the music was shut off. Beat scene. So, it was a chill night. I tried to drink a beer up in the bar but just couldn't physically get it down. I did meet some cool people though- an Irish welder who works on bikes in Guatemala, and also turns them into pedal-powered energy sources. Another slumber under a full moon, waves crashing. Bienvenido 2010.

Bubbles of Guilt....burbujas culpable?

Me gusta la mente
que est abajo de mi sombrero
Pero a veces yo pienso
“Quiero mas dinero!”
El viaje de la fortuna,
tiene muchas vias
A veces- el vino perfecto
Otras veces– las uvas son agrias.

I like the mind
that is under my hat
But sometimes I think
“I want more money!”
The journey of fortune
has many ways,
Sometimes- the perfect wine
Others- the grapes are sour.

*there are most likely a few mistakes above. my spanish is suffering. i speak like 2 sentences of spanish now. and i don't even care....

I am a big fan of blowing bubbles at festive events. I am actually a master bubble-blower, and I wow people at festivals and parties with my skills, which includes blowing bubbles inside of bubbles, smoke-filled bubbles, and occasionally, my bubbles actually dance to the beat of the music. I joke you not. But this only happens in the right circumstances.... not everyday. And I have not done a square bubble, but I saw on youtube that it is possible. I don't have the patience for it at the moment.

Anyhow, for a long time, it was my dream to have a bubble gun. I got one at the ghetto mall in Philly; it cost 5$ at Five Below, a large 5 dollar and under store with mostly junk. I don't go there anymore. The gun didn't work. Then I found one that did work in Rome- I bought it from one of those guys on the street, in front of the most beautiful fountain in the world (true- most beautiful fountain in the world... I could barely look at it). Anyhow, as mentioned in this blog's postings back in May or June 2009, I was SO happy I got a functioning bubble gun. I think it was 5 euro. And I lost it shortly thereafter. So, I got a little one in Queens... it worked. I liked it. Nice and portable. But I don't know where it is at the moment.

So, tonight I will be going to a party at Freedom, the bar I dj'ed at lastnight. Then at one or so, we are going to take a boat to the 3-day party, at a really special place on the lake (accessible only by boat). A few years ago, I went to parties there. I rocked it, picked up hulahooping, danced to breakbeats on vinyl played by these French people (who sadly enough were hijacked down in Brasil and some of them were shot dead), and I partied with some people who are still in my life. I am excited to return. Anyhow, back to bubbles... I knew I would need some for these next few days, so I went up the hill to town. I found the a bubble gun... for $2.50 or so... I got it... and it works! Really well! It makes a loud space-gun sound, which I have mixed feelings about.

I also picked up some other bubbles at a different store. They are the same ones I bought in both Italy and Croatia. And now they are here in Guatemala. I like these specific ones because they are small enough to carry around and the top stays on tight. The bottles themselves have a unique design, are made in China, and I assume, that the factory just puts on labels with different languages on them depending on where they are being sent to.

So this got me wondering- what is it like for the people over in China who work at this factory that assembles my preferred choice of bubbles? So much stuff is manufactured in China, because of low labor costs, and as a consumer, I enjoy the cheap fruits of that cheap labor. Anyone can speculate on how widely the working conditions and wages range in a places like China, or Hong Kong, or Indonesia, but in the end I wonder- do most of the people who work in factories, such as my preferred bubble-making factory, like their life? Do they slave away miserably, wishing their lives were different, or do they go to work and accept it as what is necessary order to enjoy the other parts of their life? And what is their idea of enjoying life? Sometimes I wonder about this, and I think of Charlie from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, when he gets a candy bar for his birthday, and shares it with his family (the creepy, sort of gross old people who lay bed). Sometimes I feel bad that I buy products from countries that don't protect their people's rights to make a fair and safe living. I feel helpless in the situation though, as I do with all global issues. And yes- you can argue that there are socially responsible companies from which products can be purchased. To which I respond that I can only afford some of these things. And I would then present you a 2-folded counter-argument; if I were to reach a position where I could afford all socially-responsible products, One- Many people who can afford socially or environmentally-responsible products are in that position because they exploit others, somehow. That's business. (Or they live in California, which is a less-exploitive business environment and is definitely not the norm). And Two- Even if I could afford to buy only socially-responsible products, the overwhelming majority will still not enjoy the same privileges.

If injustice is just a fact of life, then what part do I play in it? The part that's more fortunate than many but not as fortunate as some? I am ok with that. More than ok.... I live in a garden of the great life (.com!) But in this garden, compassion does not escape me. Nor does guilt.

MY LIFE IS COMPLETE!

Well, I did it. I played dubstep in San Pedro. In the four and a half years I have been living in this small, strange town on the lake, both my music taste and identity have been gradually evolving. Psy-trance has dominated parties and bars here. I used to think that all electronic music was psy-trance, and so I hated what I thought was electronic music. Then drum and bass and trip-hop started to alter my thinking.

Freedom is the name of a dance/live music venue; sort of the only danceclub in San Pedro. A handful of my friends have taken turns owing it/co-owning it over the years. The two owners are away at the moment (one lives in Canada, and one is from Denmark), and there is a chill local lady Rosa who is running it. I got set up to dj the day before new year's eve, and wrote down my information for a guy to make a flyer. I wrote:
DJ MAGENTA
dubstep
electro-house
newest music from california&burning man

The next day, I picked up the flyers (the way it works at a lot of places in San Pedro is that the artists do their own publicity for the show they are doing). I was both pleased and amused with the flyer.

From California
Burning Man:
DJ Magenta-
dubstep
electro-house
newest music

The flyer was done nicely... it was just funny that it said I was from “California Burning Man”. And the guy who did it used pink and teal! my favorite colors!

So, my friends accompianed me while I put up some signs and handed the stuff out. The computer I use at the moment cost $125 on craigslist, and I don't trust it to work the greatest for djing (it is circa 2003, the processor is way slow, etc.) so I burned what I could using my friend Jo's computer. My old friend Ric came to town with his girlfriend Leslie, whom I have heard great things about but have never gotten the chance to meet.

I played music. I used a mixer. I don't know how to use a mixer. But I did, and it worked. A few days before, there was a small bar-owning naysayer who said “They are not ready for dubstep here”. WRONG. At the point when the most people were dancing, I was playing dubstep. My life is complete.

Likes/Dislikes of Winter

I like these things about winter:
- hershey puts out a few kinds of mint-chocolate that they only sell before xmas
- more restaurants have soup, which I eat every day of the year
- fires are nice, and we have a fireplace in philly
- i smell evergreen, pine, etc more, be it naturally or via candle
- xmas lights
- seasonal dark ales, such as New Belgium's 2 Below, an excellent stout

I HATE these things about winter:
- Cold
- The overwhelming, aggravated feeling I get when entering a place with too much heat
- Places with no heat
- Having a Zoolander tickle cough from the change in temperature and dry heat
- Teary eyes from too much heat or the bitter cold
- Headache if I go outside with wet hair
- Xmas songs
- all the rigamarole about buying stuff, and having to watch people be duped into buying un-needed, excessive, or unwanted gifts for people
- the weather prevents me from wanting to go outside, and I can't do what I like to do

My Best Poem Ever.

I write some of my best stuff driving in traffic. I wrote this in LA 2 days ago. They have serious traffic there. It is about my favorite music- dubstep, which has electronic elements of reggae dub with heavy- horrendously heavy bass. I guess. It is hard to describe, but it is dark and violent-sounding. And I love it, almost as much as I love myself. I have yet to name this, and I will be having it made into a song(s) within the year, using tiptop male voice. And you will hear it.





There are many things
that course through my veins,
A few of which
have me shackled in chains,

But I'll tell you something-
I'm the happiest slave,
For my master is
the sound that I crave

You may have heard of it-
it's called the DUBSTEP,
I guarantee you right now
I'm a #1 rep.

Hey you, yeah you DJ!-
I've got the tournequette tie,
But you've got the needle-
You make me get high

As mentioned before,
It's in my blood red and real,
Just look at my face-
Can you tell what I feel?

I don't think you can call
What I do a dance,
More like a turbulent,
frenzied romance

Alright, I'll be honest-
I'm a true dubstep whore,
I dance so damn hard
that I break the floor

Oh wait up one sec-
Whore aint the right name,
Cause I don't get paid
for my ground-stomping game

Like a popper in bed,
Cozied up with his pills,
Like a wino with bottles
Of endless stained thrills
It's not for the kicks nor the frills

I'm an addict,
I tell you-
My vice tried and true,
And if it courses through your veins,
Then we're related- who knew?!


COPYRIGHT JESS MULLEN, 2009

Friday the 13th...Lots of Laughing and Too Much Driving in Los Angeles

I met up with the people I camp with at Burning Man. They are some old friends from New York. Vanessa, Harry, and Carlito (who is from California). We hung at Harry's in Huntington Beach, got drunk on the beach, and awoke all ready to go camping. We made the mistake of letting him choose where we were going. After 3 hours of driving, it just didn't work out. Road closed. Even if we had gotten to a destination, they don't allow fires, something that is neccesary for us. So, next time, someone who actually researches things such as fire permittance, water access, etc will be doing the planning. I also realized I still don't like LA. No way jose.

We drove another hour or two to find another place to camp. Did not work out. In the meanwhile, I had started writing the best dubstep song ever, in traffic. My best poems, the published stuff, I write in traffic.

We cooked up this pasta on my camping stove at a park we stopped at, and.... not enough butane. Fucking Friday the 13th.

We went back to Harry's. I could not even drink a drop. A few of the girls passed out, and Harry and Carlito and I watched a few episodes of 90210, 4th season. I like guys who enjoy 90210 on any level. There was lots of laughing involved. I love my friends.

I Heard Something I Really Liked

Well, I was at this skunk train costume party up in Mendocino county. It starts at the ocean on a train at 10 am with electronic music, and goes into the redwoods, where it stops at a party with food, booze and a band. Then it returns to the coast, and other parties happen, such as the one at a beach house.

I went in costume as the 9-5 Nemesis, since I am not down with the 9-5. One of the people I met told me something I really like. He said that "it isn't what you do that kills you, it's the guilt about it". This is kind of along the lines of what I say- "embrace your vices".

So yeah, the skunk train party was great.

Got Here

Well, I made it to California. It is too beautiful here, really. I wish that my friends and family in the Northeast would just all move out here. Seriously, it would bring my life to the highest level of perfection. After picking up my car in Reno, I stopped in Nevada City to see a friend. We ate good chicken wings in the Sierras. I like the Nevada City/Grass Valley/Tahoe area a lot. Then I made it into San Francisco, where I met up with Liz. Liz is this hilarious hot chick I taught in Korea with. She is originally from Mattituck, Ny,- out near where I am from, but she moved to North Carolina in high school. True to form, she made me laugh a bunch. We had 3$ margueritas and 2$ quesadillas at some ritsy-looking place Nick's Craspy Tacos. Her friend was with her and also very cool. Then we went to a birthday party at a bar just past one of my favorite bars, and when that place closed I suggested my bar. And we went. I got a cider.

Oh, I also met the creepiest guy who was friends of a friend who was there for the birthday. He was WAY CREEPY CREEPO.

Sundays to Relax... A Great Last Day In New York

There are few things better than going to the Turkish bathouse with my two best guy friends. Tumie and I met Saylor in the city, and we went to the Turkish Russian bathouse. I have been going here lately since first going with a past suitor. (I used to occaionally go to the gym in Park City that had the same facilities... I am an expert relaxer).

The entry fee is 30$, and you can stay all day. There are a few saunas of different level, a few steam rooms with eucalptus-scented steam, a freezing cold pool, and a sundeck to hang out at. It is co-ed, and not creepy like one would maybe think. There is food and good fresh juices. I got a Fantasy Island- pinapple, orange, apple and strawberry, seaweed salad, and then when my appetite returned I got mushroom barley soup. Sundays are not just to relax, Sundays are also the day to hemmorhage money. So, the three of us split of jar of Dead Sea mud, and I got a 20 minute neck and shoulder massage. It was from this Asian-looking, Russian-sounding guy that most of my girlfriends would not get a massage from. I, on the contrary, don't give a fuck. It was good. And interesting, when he pounded my ass (surprise!), with his hands, and then pounded the rest of my back.... (Hey- I though this was a neck and shoulder massage!) All in all, I am glad I did it, since it was 25$ and I really needed something. I carry all these heavy bags all over the place and no one gives me massages. I know, french cries and Whineken are calling my name.

So, we ended the evening with thaifood.... oh, my favorite! Thai iced-tea, vegan duck pad thai as an app to share, and then, my all-time favorite... Prik King (with pork). Then in the cab on my way to the Chinatown bus, I caught this huge fireworks display happening over the river. East River, I guess? It was the finale, so it was grand. It ended, I got on the bus back to Philly, where Bad Patrick and I watched my new inappropriate dvd and ate pizza. Black cherry soda was involved. Sundays to relax, Sundays to piss money, and Sundays to feast! I cannot think of a better way to bring my East Coast summer to a close. Spring time....watch out.

Urban Arts Fest in Bushwick...Mark Batty Publisher

I went to one of the most unique festivals I haqve been to- an urban arts fest in brooklyn, . Lauren Seracene told me she would be there and could put me on the vip list, and that there was free beer and a dance party. Since I was going to New York for the weekend anyway, I figured I would check it out.

While unemployed, Lauren started a non-profit called Bags for the People with her friend. They take old clothing and make it into bags that people can use instead of plastic bags. Erin told me about it when she would see my efforts to use as small amount of plastic bags as possible. I am so happy for Lauren- they do sewing workshops, events throughout the city (including giving the bags out at a farmer's marke, and she is going to Jamaica for a month to bring the project down there (they were invited by the Jamaican government.

So, after what took forever, I get to the fest just as the rain subsides. I thought it was going to be at some park, but in fact it is at a new artist loft called Castle Braid. After seeing Laur and getting a can of brooklyn brewery beer, I strolled around. The music was good, the vendors were affordable andexcellent, and the graffitti getting put up was amazing. It was a half indoor/half outdoor thing in really cool space with a cool, diverse group. One of the vendors was selling these homeade, innappropriately funny magnets&ornaments. I had no need for those, but they were also selling dvd's of the same ilk. I got one. It is gross and imapprproiate much of the time (which is what I asked for when selecting). There is a lot of peeing involved, which just bolsters my penis envy. Eventually, Tumie came, the beer switched to Hoegarden, Laruen's sewing machine's went away, and the party began.

Met some cool people, including this chick who made me laugh a lot. I mentioned my new plan I formulated this past week to her. She did NOT like it. The plan was when I get older, like in my 50's or 60's, and am divorced or unmarried, I will switch to being a lesbian, that way it wll be easier to find new companionship. Since I am realizing how difficult it can be for a woman who is older to start a new romance with men. Especially with the hwhole double-standard on aging men vs. aging women. This girl, Michelle, she said I absolutely should not and cannot have this as my plan. She said it's fine if I decide to be with women, but to plan on it as a last resort could just paint the future on the wall. I realized she was right- I know aboutmanefesting things. So, my plan, which only lasted 4 days, is not my plan anymore.

So all in all, I am very glad I went to the party. I mentioned to Mark Batty and his wife that they should do a book on the graffitti art in valparaiso, Chile. Basically, the company is a publishing company for urban art genrre... I got this free book that is about a project called the bubble project, which took lots of little white bubble stickers (blank so people could add writing to them) and the stickers were put all over advertisements in New York. I laughed outloud a few times. Especially at the ad of Jennifer Lopez with a bubble coming out of her mouth that read : “I used to smoke crack on the J train”. I mean, she probably didn't, , but I laughed the hardest at that. So the company deals with art and social commentary. I like these things.

Photos by Vinny Cornelli

The After Effects of The Burn....

I was talking earlier to Tumas Luminous, a very close friend of mine from New York, whom I picked up in Reno and brought to his first Burning Man. He mentioned how he has been all fucked up since Burning Man- physically and mentally. He went through alot out there in the desert; he and his girlfriend broke up, and it really hit him hard.

I can tell you that I also had an emotional, mind-fuck out there as well. I can't pinpoint exactly what or why, but I am significantly different than I was before. I had gone years without crying, save once. Years. I mean, maybe a once-a-year teary-eyed minute or two,, but I don't even think that to be true. And as far as a good ball...nah. Well, it poured out of me throughout Burning Man this year. It was not even sad crying for the most part, which is strange. And often times other people I was with were doing the same. Strange. The air sometimes was so intense. Who knows. I can't tell you, cause I am not used to this. Anyhow, a few days after the Burn, I even felt the remnants of my emotional spooging. I cried again, but this time it was fueled by 10 hours of powerdrinking, absynthe from some weird jar, and pent up emotions regarding a suitor. A quintessential crying combo.

My mind is different now. I can't tell you how, but it is. I am more confused about life- my options, future, blahblah, etc. But I am more sure about what I do not want my life to be. And it's hard- seeing much of the world around me running their races. I step into the race occasionally to secure myself financially enough so I can step out of it again. And although the race I step into is closest to the fringe of races in general, it is nonetheless a race. I make money, I save money, I spend money, I make money, I save money, I spend money. I am a hamster in the wheel. I am not complaining- this is the garden of my great life! The wheel is a luxury wheel. I am by no means simply existing.

This time last year, I believed that yes, I am part of the matrix, but it is not necessarily a part of me. I didn't even know what a matrix was, perhaps because Keanu Reaves is my least favorite actor ever. What I really believed, or hoped, is that I am a part of traditional society, but traditional society is not a part of me. Now, I feel that there are just as many reasons that this is true as there are reasons for it being false. I especially realize the latter when I pay my cell phone bill every few months before they turn it off (even though I have the money to pay it on time). Or when I had a bunch of parking tickets in San Francisco that were later sent to my parent's house in New York. Or when I buy stuff, which I do often. I can't help it- I like stuff!

Now, I know in Guatemala, for instance, if I were to live there more permanently, I know I would still have a cell phone. But it would be pre-paid. And I would not have a car, but I would still pay to ride a bus. And I would still buy stuff- I told you- I like stuff. And yes, I know it is possible to do these things in the US (which I do- ridiing the chinatown bus to ny, riding 3 or 4 subways in an hour, taking the bus to New Paltz, turning a 3 hour car-ride into a 6 hour ordeal). I know it is possible here, but it is just easier to do away from here.

Cause no matter what I am doing here to distance myself from the rat race, I feel like there is just so much more here that reminds me I am in it. It is a conundrum or something. And I did not even plan writing about this rat race stuff here- I'm just noting the emotional after-effects from the desert.

Pinnacle of Successful Weekend in The Paltz

So often, I am lazy, hungover, etc, and do not accomplish as much as I should/could. Not the case this past weekend:

Friday- started with a rest in the park, was hungover from city partying thursday so did not start drinking at newpaltz 2-for-1happy hour til 9. also, ate 2 miso soups while resting at fabulous jackie's. then drank not even that much and got hammered. could not even stay at bar til 4. I have fun with you people up there.

saturday- napped briefly after egg,ham,cheese, then 3 1/2 hour hike with multiple vistas, jackie&her cool friend. saw seriously obese porcupine. got phenomenal rock da pasta (pesto, alfredo, artichoke hearts, sundried tomato, broccoli, spicy bacon, bowtie pasta), took another siesta, then built fire with julia julio garcia at the farm she lives at a few miles out of town. seriously. apple orchard, wine blahblahs, chickens, goats, stars, trickling water over rocks, and us, venting.

sunday- brushed most of the knots out of my hair from the weekend, brought a friend to a place he had never been... bear hill preserve past ellenville. known to some as bear cliff; near sam's point and the ice caves. It is one of my favorite spots because after a 15 minute non-strenuous hike, you get to the cliffs, and you can see Canada. Well, maybe not, but you can see a few states at least. It is perfect for a hangover. I used to call it my church. Now, I would say one of my churches is the Lost City.
Upon returning to Newp, outdoors with a bloody mary, green chile soup, a taco, and a cider. I had this bloody mary at burning man that changed my outlook on the drink. I like them now! Whereas before, I could just drink a half a few times a year. My palette is developing!

bear cliff picture from: www.jamesdouglasgallery.com/gallery/

Woohoo, my old news website has been recovered

I used to publish highbrow newsletters in New Paltz, CRAZYTOWN, and San Pedro. Some of them I decided to put in a website, for which I bought a domain. I never renewed the domain, so the website looked like it was a broken link. I just realized how to get it so that I can recover my old site, under a new name for now since I don't want to buy the domain again until I start writing more fake articles.

www.crazytowncrier.blogspot.com

If you click on the ads, I get like 1 penny a year, which I will donate to the Human Fund.

on the way

So now, I am enroute to Salt Lake. The next challenge is getting safely to Reno, which is about 7 or 8 hours away. I am going to get my car checked out tomorrow I think, do some arts&crafts, hang with Erin, infuse 2 large buckets of vodka, prepare and leave Friday night to arrive Saturday am in Reno for more preparations.
By the way, the mp3 player I got in Austria had not been working when I last tried using it a few months ago. Now it is. Cameras&mp3 players have a bad history but I am glad that at this very moment even it it's just for the moment this TEAC thing is working and I am listening to Lee Scratch.

UPDATE: My car was not in storage in salt lake, it was in a parking lot, and half my stuff was gone. stuff stuff stuff. Although I really don't know what's missing besides the snowboard. The guy I stored it with (straight up officially with contract) says there are 2 rubbermaids missing. I don't think there are though.) Either way, I don't have to pay the 600$ to get the car out, but I do have to pay the 700$ to get it fixed. Since it won't run. The past few days have been quite trying, but I am really just letting it bounce off me. I have numbed myself.

Finally, A Stinging Bee

Well, I was waiting for it. My life was going to magically for a while there that I expected something to come and rain on the parade. And this past saturday, it did. It came in the form of thievery- the new fanny pack I decorated was kind of junk and always falling off my waist, so I put it in my larger bag. 10-15 minutes after I had last gone into it, it was gone. My larger bag was in my sight the whole, or so I thought. There was some kid who came and talked to me for a minute or two. This is when I think it happened. I've traveled 17 countries, most of which on my own, with no problems. I think there were pros involved in this. By the time I called my bank the next day to cancel my card, there were alreadys attempts of a 300$ radio shack purchase, 2 89$ subway card purchases, and a 4$ deli charge. The charges were denied. Within an hour of it being gone, I accepted it. Losing stuff that you and society have made almost a requirement for much of your life can be a huge downer. I decided I would not dwell, and I didn't. But, I will reminisce about what I lost here, since this is my place.
So, here is what I lost:
My 2 rings. One is from my grandmother who is dead. I have been wearing it since I was 13. The other I bought when I was 15. These were part of me. I took them off for a project and forgot to put them back on. I also liked to think that because I had these rings, which fit on both ring fingers, that there was no room for any more rings for those fingers, and I would stay happily single forever. Which may still be the case regardless of rings. But it was nice to have those spots already taken up.
Zip car rental card which unlocks the rental car I had for the weekend. This lead me to wait the next evening for 6 hours until past 1am in Queens for a tow truck that never showed up. The next day, another one arrived promptly.
Driver's license- which I needed to register the car I have out in Utah. This was to be done on Monday, and then I was to fly to Salt Lake with the plates on Tuesday am from Philly. Then drive to Burning Man in Reno. Instead of doing it in Brooklyn as planned I drove out to Long Island where my fabulous mother met me with my social security card. For some reason I had brought my passport to NY, just in case I needed it at the DMV. I am witchy like that.
Phone- I hope AT&T can give me back my numbers. I have insurance, and bought a pre-paid to be dealing with my burning man coordination.
Cash
People's cards including a DJ from upstate whom I want to play in NYC
essential oil coconut chapstick and a bottle cap with a good saying, which was to be given as gift
18$metro card
other fun stuff
In the end, everything is working out. I got my car registered, I extended the rental for the zipcar by a few hours, I had to spend a bit of money (I am so good at spending money, I should get paid for it), I met some interesting people while waiting in Queens for the tow truck that never showed up, and importantly, I saw how one person I know acted towards me in my time of distress.

Desiderata...A New Electronic Music Festival

I was fortunate enough to get to go to the first year of this electronic festival. My friend Veronica's fiancee Joey, whom I first met at Mountain Jam 2008 and really liked, had a gig doing glassblowing demonstrations.

So glad I went. I had the most amazing live music experience to date during Adam Deitch and this Dj Muran or something to that effect. They started out with dub step, which happens to course through my veins, and they ended up at one point incorporating what seemed like music from every culture, into one song, into the same moments.

It was also an absolute ball to hang with Veronica (&Joey, aka Jewseppe, and his friend Jeff who is also cool). I have known Veronica for years, and we have the same circle of friends, have hung out many times in group form, but it was especiially excellent hanging out of our usual element after both of us having more insight into ourselveses.

I also met some amazing people from upstate/Utica area. This chick Angel and I really hit if off. She is awesome. Seriously.
By the way, the festival was on this estate with an old, dilapidated castle. I guess the property is owned by Jamaicans now, but it was owned by a Russian guy. There were some beautiful views. The security seemed to be done by Russian people, and there were a lot of people of Russian or Eastern European descent, and lots of Israelis (I believe that hacidic Jews or Israelis were organizing the festival). Anyhow, what was really strange was that Crystal Method got their power shut off, and for a half hour, the two Crystal Method guys were really upset and waiting for it to get turned back on. They were pissed, as they should be- here they are, performing as the headliner, and for some strange, fucked up, politically-fueled reason they can't play. Such is life.

It was the strangest festival I have been to ever- there was no atm, there was no ice for sale, there were 2 tents selling food and one had beer in bottle for sale. Trance dominated latenight into the day on the main stage, so of course I enjoyed the Renegade stage with the electro, breakbeats, etc. It was kind of like taking a vacation to Europe for a festival. So is this the sort of thing that Rainer and Larsen are used to? There was also this fabulous area with all this art& fun stuff, organized by these nice freako people from the Copycat Theater in Baltimore. Should I ever go through Baltimore, I will be sure to check them out. At the main stage, they also had these globes for visuals to be projected upon..- pretty cool.

All in all, it was a very special time at a very special place.

Wow, what an eventful afternoon. I went to an amazing asianfood superstore. Dangerous. Of course, I bought way too much stuff I did not need but will definitely enjoy. Other places that are dangerous for me to walk into include Michael's Arts&Crafts and the duty-free liquor shop at the airport. These places are my downfall, for real.

Then, I was severely harassed in broad daylight outside of a liquor store by a truck full of ghetto boys in camden just hanging around. new jersey ;(

Then, i couldn't find a parking space in Philly. Parallel parking a long stupid car like my mom's is annoying. And people in Philly are not nearly as nice as they are in New York. it is official.

So I crashed into a car. Or two, as I thought at first. Neither of the cars had anyone in them, since they were parked on a strange narrow side street. Yeah, I used to drive all the time everywhere. not sure what happened. I could not drive away, as some guy was hanging around making sure I would not drive away. Plus, I don't do that anyway. Not that this has happened before. So I called my friend Rachel, since I was incapable of doing anything in my irrational state of mind. I was shaking too much to hold a pen to write notes to leave. My parents would not be pleased. Rachel shows up and we discover that one car had a big smash up with rust from a previous accident, and that in fact, I only hit on car, we think. I guess I hit the one car twice and thought it was 2 cars. I guess I really am retarded. So, After some thinking, I call the philly cops to come check out the car(s). And, the chick, oh boy, I LOVE THIS CHICK COP, in the report, which is NOT an accident report, I possibly grazed the mirror of the second car. That's it. The one time when it really payed off to involve the authorities. She had me reverse my car and as it turns out maybe I really didn't hit either car too much. Just the mirror, " Maybe".So, I went from thinking I would be leaving 2 notes telling these people i will pay them anything not to involve my parents' insurance company to having an official report saying maybe I hit the prius mirror (which is retractable).

When I thought I'd be paying thousands of dollars for being retarded, I still had visions of Burning Man, and no intention of cancelling that. I told myself 'well, you did it last year and were broke and you will do it again should you have to". But, I don't have to. all cause I called the cops. the cop even laughed every now and then. The weirdest thing was I was not on drugs, but felt like I was on drugs after the multi-uni-weirdo-fender maybe-not bender(s) happened.Finally, good parking spot right across from "accident(s). I don't have to move my car until I leave this place.

My big computer is dead, but my computer nerd roomate (Rachel, friend from above) hit it a bunch and it turned on just enough to get my work portfolio pictures off, which are the only things I have not really backed up but sort of the most important. i can't blame my computer- she is so old, and has been AROUND the block a zillion times. I am tempted to give her a real memoriam, or at least, some flowers. Rachel said "if you spank your computer a bunch, it might turn on". like owner, like computer. And my tiny computer's screen is cracked... badly. So if you see typos, which you won't too often, that is why.

I also learned about this jetblue special for flights, but at first, in the text message I got about it, I thought it was for a year and not a month. I went crazy, running around half naked with my debit card, dizzy, TOO excited. Now I know the terms and it will not work out for me, but I was estatic for a minute and it felt nice.And so, I am going to make an udon noodle soup, with bok choy, scallion, spicy red pepper, and either a miso base or a tom yum goong thai base. or a simple soy&red pepper base. garlic and tofu are also involved.

I spoke with an AMAZING chick I met at a festival. And with Myk Tumelo, with whom I have decided to throw a party with in NY at the end of September. Pick Your Poison Potluck. Perhaps.What an eventful afternoon.

All Points West... free tickets thanks to Lauren Seracene.

Alright, Lauren Seracene hooked it up with free tickets for myself, Erin, and this crazy kid Brett to go to all 3 days of All Points West, a 3-day, no camping, festival in NJ. Going for free was amazing- if I actually had to pay for a ticket, I would not.

Here are some good points of All Points:

-great lineup varying from Jay-Z, gogol bordello, pharcyde (who put on a really funny&entertaining performance), kool keith, mstrkrft, coldplay, vampire weekend (so impressed with, in addition to gogol bordello), tool, list goes on.

-some cool sculptures

- full-time electronic area with GREAT music by dolab

- great view of manhattan skyline&statue of liberty

- nice vibe overall in crowd; douchebag level was low

- i got a veggie jalopeno corndog, which is impressive

OK, just some the bad points:

- public transportation took WAY too long for where it is, and is way too complicated, with many transfers, etc

- not enough portapotties, AT ALL> the lines had literally 50 people waiting at times; a line that winded across the span of the concert field

- beer garden is the only place to drink booze& on top of it, it is way too far from any stages to benefit drinkers

- garbage cans were made out of cardboard, for a festival that rained 2 of 3 days

-recycling not up to par, if even existent at all

- large screens would list who played previously, which is of no help to concert-goers looking to see what's next where

-after arriving from public transportation, there is a 1+mile walk to the actual concert

-No parking if you drive

- Much of the food& other areas were set up so you could hear 2 of the stages at once, which sucks if you have ears

- No where to do a renegade piss/ no trees hide behind

- My luxury sandals were stolen when I was busy

As I said before, I very much enjoyed myself. But if you are going to throw a festival, you should know what you are doing, and if you don't, then do some research. I guess people from the city just don't know any better, so the All Points people don't have to go by the standards I am used to. There really were like 99 reasons why the festival sucked

And by the way, I missed Sunday, cause it was torrential downpour. Instead I had an amazing time at these Turkish/Russian baths. Then indian food at a weirdo place. I laughed so much i ended up not being able to stand by the end of the evening. I was literally falling on the ground cause I could not stand up.