Voodoo Child v. 17: Welcome to the One Woman Show

I had a long talk with someone in my office today, and he said, "why vote, it doesn't matter." After a long discussion with him, I had to hold myself back from throttling said individual. After reflecting on that hour long discussion (that kept me after work, natch), I've come to a conclusion: Kids don't fuckin' vote. Maybe that's a bit harsh. I suppose I could switch it to: Think long term, people. He said to me, "Voting doesn't change anything. Why bother?" Shaking my head, yo. Let's think about this: in a world where many countries don't allow its citizens to have a say, voting is a right and one of the things that make this country a great place. It's easy to see how your one measly vote doesn't change the tide of the ocean, but it's also easy to see how that one measly vote is important in the ebb and flow. For me, a vote is a voice. It's a simple statement of how you feel, but more importantly, it's you saying how you feel about a particular issue or candidate. Take that voice away, and you have no say in anything. Even if you are on the losing side of an issue, you have every right to add your vote to that side, so be it. You have a voice, so use it. Yet many people don't. Frustrating. There are people who are banking on these who choose to not vote to NOT come out. Bad officials are elected by good citizens who do not vote. — George Jean Nathan (1882-1958). No shit. I worry about my people who dare to not vote, or worse yet, fail to see the relevance, the power, and the strength of their own vote/voice. One of the best feelings I've ever experienced was walking into my voting place (at the dump. woot.) and connecting my two arrows. SO amazing. But that's because I care enough to take that detour to vote. That's because I know my vote is important. I know that my voice needs to be heard. I know that I defy those who hope the empowered electorate don't turn out. I don't care if my candidate doesn't win (keep on keepin' on, Barack). But I will let my voice be heard. And if you don't vote, childrens, you have NO right to complain. You have NO right to bitch. For four long years. Meet me at the polls. Done. I will see you there. Voodoo

Posted by Voodoo Child at 10:11 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I never get out enough, I swear. I found out about the Ukulele Festival a few days ago, and dragged Husbandido out for a dose of the Uke. I am a fan of fun music: ukulele, harmonica, accordions. You name it. I'll even listen to a kazoo.

We went to see Jake Shimabukuro (who strangely reminds me of one famous painter, Michael Sacramento), and we weren't disappointed. He was in Japan touring and stopped by SF, only to return tomorrow. Go figure, huh. I guess that's how he rolls.

Husbandido met and spoke with him. There's a pic of them on the other blog, you know which one. He was a genuinely nice guy. I was really impressed as I watched him work the crowd. He has nice hands, btw. We saw a bunch of Ukulele groups and I really enjoyed The Paper Dolls too. I was hoping to see more Hawaiian Ukulele stuff, but found there was more of the kitschy ukulele action. It's all good. The sun was nice, and we had great seats near the man.

I had a crap experience this morning. I was trying to schedule a haircut with my new dude...I've seen him twice, and that was cool. But since he's left his salon, he just swings to each person's crib to do his gigs. So I scheduled with him tuesday. couldn't pull it off. he rescheduled for Friday. He couldn't pull that fucker off either. He scheduled for Saturday. Didn't show. I texted him. I called him. No call. I'm a little upset about that, so I'm going back to my homegirl for cuts. Yes, it's twice what he costs, but you just don't do that.

Oh and as a gift, I'm taking his business elsewhere. Let's go, girls!

Sucka!

Voodoo 

 

Posted by Voodoo Child at 08:30 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Truth hurts, but yah. I'm screwed too. I Do Not Have $1 Million / Ergo, I cannot buy a delicious home in San Francisco. Ergo, I am screwed forever

Posted by Voodoo Child at 11:41 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

This Thursday, 5/3/07, I was able to get the hell out of the office (I love the office, mind you, but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do and get out of the office, werd), and go see Conan O'Brien. I happen to think the world of his show, and it was a dream to me to be able to see him and his show come to SF.

I honestly didn't think I was going to get a ticket (two, actually). i am that person who enters stuff and doesn't get shit. Or at the very least I get things like spam after signing up for stuff, I'm such a sucker. But I scored two tickets to go to the show. I took a personal day and so did the Mango in order to see Conan. First things first, there's the issue of trying to get out of the hood into the other hood (Tenderloin district), but we remedied that by parking at my office and taking the bus down to Civic Center. I haven't taken a bus in an awfully long time, and I don't think Mango had the bus bug for a while, so that's always interesting. I sort of miss that randomness of riding a bus and seeing an interesting cross-section of the City. College kids, business folks, hoodrats, drunk guys serenading the whole bus (he was in a rough patch, shall we say, drunk and out of his mind at about 5PM). But we get to the Civic Center and there's a line already, say of about 150 people. It's nine-thirty AM, and we like little kids, we had our breakfast/lunches in bags, ready to consume for what was about a 5 hour wait in line.

Continue reading "Conan O'Brien and Me" »

Posted by Voodoo Child at 07:56 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I'm sorry. I stopped blogging a few days after, well, my second day in Chicago.

Two truths emerged during said trip: I don't like being away from the Mr. Mango. I also like to travel, but it's much better on my terms. My days started at 6:30. On the bus. At 6:30. Any of you who know me KNOW that I freakin' HATE mornings. Its hard enough to get up at 6:30, but I had to dressed and ready to rock by 6:30. Sucks. REAL bad. Once on the bus, we had to get to our next stop, sometimes an hour later. Traffic and weather permitting, it was a difficult trip, but what made the trip fun was the colleagues I met on the trip.

The trip was basically my sister colleges and myself heading out to schools to present ourselves. Twelve schools in 4 days. Two states. Fun, isn't it? Yes and no. It's not easy to be on the road like that but it's definitely doable, and I met students that I would have loved to work with in the near future.

Strangely enough, I was the only person of color on the trip...and for some of the schools I was the only person of color in the goddamn building. It's hard to reconcile the differences between us, but I felt like my presence in the schools may have made some people think...twice? I don't know. I spent a lot of time thinking to myself about what it meant to be a person of color on the road, selling to the white masses. My mission in life is to provide access to those who do not have said access, and it's amazing to be in beautiful large high schools with people who are clearly privileged in ways you will never be. You feel simultaneously small and big at the same time. Small because you are the other. Big because you will always always be underestimated, a position that never fails to amaze me.

My days ended mostly around 5PM, and we had dinners together with the exception of one day and I had dinner with colleagues. I looked forward to those moments more than the other events, to be honest, because I appreciate the opportunity to meet other like-minded individuals who live in the same "world" that I do and dialogue, dialogue, dialogue over drinks.

As the week progressed, and as you may have noticed, I didn't blog as much, and the reason is because I was exhausted. I don't do well in new environments. It takes me a while to get used to new environments, new hotels, and new sounds.  While trying to fall asleep, the sound of the snow scraper thingies, what's that called, snowplows, fascinated me. I would jump out of bed and watch them circle around, removing the snow from the ground, clearing black pavement from white snow. Abso-fucking-lutely fascinating. This means I didn't get to sleep until later, and of course, this means that I wake up exhausted and tired. SUCKS so bad.

We ended our trip at a Latino high school, and this was by far my favorite visit. It was late, I was already deliriously tired, but still connecting. I felt my eyes burning, maybe from too much air in my face, the hot air from heaters, or just being exhausted. I was able to pull down 70 interest cards (students fill out cards when they want more 411), far more than any of the other schools I went to. Speaking a little Spanish helps ;-) A few of my colleagues and I rented a limo (that could fit all 5 of us and our suitcases) to take us to O'Hare. It was a blissful goodbye, but we wound up being a little sad about the leaving part. Great colleagues. Love them.

Upon arrival at O'Hare, I found that my flight was delayed. Imagine my surprise. Shit, that sucks. I try to get onto an earlier flight, but there was no love there. Oh well. I wait almost three hours to depart after I arrive at the airport. On the flight I want to pass out but can't. Shit.

I get back to the crib, harass the Mango man, and wake up the next morning to go to Sea Ranch for a retreat. Horrible drive. If you've ever gone, it's like hugging every single curve of the California coast. It's 100 miles from SF, so the ride takes a while. It's not THAT far, but the road is pretty demanding for the most experienced driver. I wish I had Peaches to drive up there, but I had my bro's truck. It was tough, but a great ride. Staff retreats, well, they're fun and all, but it's a little bit o' hell when you're trying to put everything together. Getting back this afternoon, it was nice to be able to decompress and hang out with my family again. It's nice to be home; the road is fun, but ultimately it's the people around you who make you feel "at home."

Enough... I have to catch up on Lost. :-) Update on poetry month comes tomorrow.

 

Voodoo 

Posted by Voodoo Child at 09:26 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Took the day off today to go to Macworld. I'm pretty excited about it because I'm a freakin' nerd. I'll be back with pictures and updates when I get them. In a meanwhile, I'm watching the play by play at macrumorslive.com.

I wonder what stuff I'm going to find it hard to live without this year. ;-)

VDC 

Posted by Voodoo Child at 09:11 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Packin' A, man. We have been getting ready to get out of dodge, and along with that always goes my incredible stress and insomnia that goes along with it.

I'm a pretty anal packer (kin-kay), and over the years I've gotten damn good at it: what to bring, what not to bring, what to not forget, what I can just get there, etc. It's fun getting ready and all, but it's a pain in the ass to bring it all together.

Last night I bought the quart bags for our carry-on liquids. Man, they're small. Oh well, I luckily have travel size lotions cause I just cannot get ashy! Also, I picked up more of the gallon bags (that's MORE like it!) and started labeling what goes in them. Mango's looking at me like I'm crazy, and I think he got overwhelmed and just passed out early. I stayed up, printed up the TSA list of what to pack and what not to pack. What a nerd. I printed all the postcard labels to my peeps who are on my must-get-a-postcard list.

Tonight is probably the point at which I line up my outfits (yes I do that) and figure out what the weather is like so I can pack accordingly. I'll probably need to do one more stop at REI or Target.

At any rate, we'll be posting from Europe here, so you can 'come along with us!' and we'll also be posting pictures not here on the site, but probably on Flickr so you can get a look at the world through our eyes. I'll have to keep it private, so if you want in, let me know.

It's great that we can get away together, and we haven't vacationed together since our honeymoon almost two years ago. It's also his birthday which is nice...what a way to turn your metabolism to poop!

 If you want to ask us questions or whatever, please feel free to put them in the comments!

I also want to acknowledge the fact that I've been MIA...lots of shit going on right now, mostly related to the fact that I am a carcass that comes to work and does little else ;-) Trust me, this sojourn will be good for errybody!

Voodoo

Posted by Voodoo Child at 10:33 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I went to the mall this weekend. Not just any mall. The Freakin' Westfield Center. AKA the "new" mall in San Francisco. Hated it. But before I go there, let me share a little history with you.

Back in the day, when I was but a wee Voodoo, I used to spend my weekends in the space now known as the Westfield Center, when it was the Emporium. It was a place where Mother V and I would peruse articles of clothing as well as other sundries. I can see the place in my mind's eye to this day. I knew the layout of the place. We used to sit underneath the beautiful dome and eat tuna salad sandwiches and chat about the things we saw. Soon, Macys would draw us away from the Emporium and its dome, and eventually it closed down, to be shuttered for years.

The new mall that moved into its space kept the dome. My dome, I used to call it, is still there in all its glory, ringed by the bannisters that kept it upright. There was a flash of something when I stood under it yesterday, part memory, part nostalgia, part wanting to remember everything from back in the day.

That being said, here's my review of the place: crow-ded. Bad flow. You rely on the architect's layout to create a natural flow of the customers, and that layout or flow just didn't do it for me. It felt chaotic, it was hot, and I was tired from thinking about where everything was, and I was not very excited about anything there, even the Bloomies was just another bastion for shopping that, well, felt predictable. I did see some cashmere I wanted tho ;-

If you're going, get there early. wear comfy shoes. Have a plan because it's easy to get lost and get very frustrated. Don't bother with Bread Papa, the lines were too long and I was much too annoyed to even bother. Husbandido and I ran into Borders, but even that seemed poorly laid out and confusing.

We went to Bloomingdales instead and focused our shopping there, and that was MUCH better. Something tells me that I need to save more pennies though. Isn't that how Bloomies makes you feel? Okay, maybe me.

Happy Birthday! to the Phredator and the Teach. Had fun at 111 Minna! Kinda worried when I saw one of my students there. I asked him if anyone else was there, and he said no. I finished my drink and was totally fine with it. If more showed up, I woulda bounced real fast. Ran into Heavy and Salsa, th e Weekender and Etcha, (Not So) Drunken Masta, Puki, Dr. Lady J, the Barrelman, so much love to all of you. Best part of the night? Three things: music was good, company was fabulously hilarious, and putting pornotube vids on the macintoshes and watching people walk by then staring hard at the action. Lovely.

Go Niners! Stupid bastards blocking my driveway again. Someone needs to get a ticket next time. Jerks.

But here's to a great weekend, and hope yours was fabulous too.

Voodoo 

Posted by Voodoo Child at 08:59 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Well, happy Pride to you and yours.

I always look forward to this weekend: tourists flock to SF to let their inner queer (or outer, as the case may be) hang out, the pride flags go up everywhere, and there's the parade and gathering at the Civic Center where you see it all, baby.

I saw some good friends hanging out, and I was able to see some students, one wearing a shirt that said Horse Cock. Well, alrighty then! The weather was a little chilly when we got out there, and we had to park in BFE to even go to the event.

Naked penises seen: 2

Making out seen: too many

# of Lisa Lisa's (of the Cult Jam fame) seen: 1

So all in all, good times. Watched the parade at home, took some time out to go to the gym, then enjoyed the day in the sun/fog. If you haven't been, you should one day. It's one of my favorite things about San Francisco: embracing diversity and singing:

Lost in emotion
Some guys will promise you a
Marriage made in heaven
But I'm gonna stick to my guns
Like waitin for their love
That I might be gettin
My dreams have yet begun
Am I a fool Cause I don't know
Just how you feel
And this love for you, oh my
I can't conceal oh oh
Lost in emotion
Telling you things
you really shouldn't know
Oh baby, I'm lost in emotion
Am I fool at least my friends think so
Que sera Que Sera

Happy Pride!

Voodoo 

Posted by Voodoo Child at 10:24 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

So the day comes that I am finally done with jury duty. It was a short three days of glory, trying to stay awake through many hours of "OBJECTION" and "SUSTAINED." I'm not going to lie, it wasn't a bad experience like the last time was. That was at least four days of boring insurance legalese and stuttering lawyers.

This trial was about a woman, let's call her Camry, who got hit by, let's call him Escape. Now we're not going to argue that Camry was indeed hit by (an) Escape. This is called a stipulation, and yes, we know this for a fact. What is at stake, really, is that Escape now owes Camry damages stemming from the accident. 

I won't get into the nitty gritty of the whole affair, but here's what I learned:

1. If your lawyer starts out his opening argument with "I became a lawyer because--", you are fucked. He doesn't care about you. 
2. If your lawyer wears more gel in his hair than can be held in a one pound jar of Dep, you are fucked.
3. If your chiropractor is forging documents and forgets to get rid of the evidence, you are double fucked.
4. If your jury is shaking its cumulative head, you are screwed.
5. If you are a friend of someone who is a witness, and she is caught in a lie, you should probably not have a look of sheer horror on your face.
6. If you say "the car was moving 35-40 miles per hour" at the point of impact, yet fail to recall that the starting point of the car which hit you was about 2-4 feet ahead of you, you are fucked and you obviously failed physics. Even if your ass has a Ferrari, this is impossible and you are in lala land.
7. If you, as the defendant, play it low key, and your bring in an expert witness who calls your chiropractor "awful" and a fraud, you pretty much have won me over.

So, in short, that's the trial in a nutshell. Plaintiff's lawyer was a little sleazy, the plaintiff did not have a great recollection of the events and gave testimony that directly went against the deposition she gave two years earlier, her chiropractor commited fraud and couldn't explain why she had two records for the same appointments with the severity of the injury that was different in each case, and she went clubbing the day after her "crucial" accident. The defense poked holes in almost every plaintiff's story and that totally sucked for the plaintiff. When we were discussing the incidents, I said, "Shenanigans. Someone is trying to get over on us, and we are not stupid. I don't appreciate having someone lie to us about this and wasting our time."

We took probably less than 40 minutes to deliberate. I don't even want to get started talking about how crazy some of my jurymates were. They were a little wacky, esp. the chem engineer chick. She just wanted to talk and talk. Ugh. Shut the fuck up already. You're getting in the way of us saying "Plaintiff ain't got a leg to stand on. You crazy."

We got outside, read the verdict, and were polled for our individual answers. 12-0 in favor of the defendant. One of the jurors, while we were deliberating says, "Doesn't anyone screen for this crap? What a waste!"

Ha. It was a little waste of time, but if there was a time I could take off from work to participate in the system, and do my part, this was a good time to do it. Nothing going on at work, nothing going on at home, and I got to spend time in the Civic Center area. I was able to check out the Harlem West: Fillmore Jazz exhibit which was pretty cool at the War Memorial too. Neat.

 

Anyways, that's your voodoo doing her thing, so you good kids do your time. Hopefully it will be a good trial and it will move fast, not one of those crazy criminal trials that takes forever. Do your part. it's a good thing. And it's pretty hilarious what other people think and do.

 

Voodoo

Posted by Voodoo Child at 08:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Oh yah baby you got it. I did.

Okay, I can't get into the details of the trial, but I can tell you that I was the last person sat in the box and knew that I was screwed. My mom said, "Don't talk too much!" My dad said, "Just look disinterested." I think I looked pissed if anything, but man, I had jury duty LAST year!

So I'm doing my civic duty until this Friday, so God help me. I wish I could blab about it cause there's some shady shit going on in the world, my Voodoo babies. Did I tell you that the judge was gettin' sleepy?

 Anyways, I can't get into it. I got a shitty chair, and I'm going to put a hot pack on like an old freakin' lady and rest my tired bones. I managed to catch some hot soccer players today over lunch, so that was a saving moment. And tell me WHY does it have to be a nice week in SF? Seriously. The weather has been so nice, and I really want to go prance around getting lunch in random restaurants with my little Mango, but no, i'm in a court room with a sleepy judge, shady people, and no internet. How can I blog? I mean really.

 BRL staff meeting is starting to take shape, so if you haven't emailed me your info yet, please let me know, BRL staffers!

 

Kisses,

vdc 

Posted by Voodoo Child at 06:51 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)