Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Actually I don't know why I've lived this long. When your depressed, its hard to share it with people. Zimbalta can help! Zoloft! Prozac!, there's even medicine to help your antidepressent work better. Yeah I have it.
Lately, due to my own laziness, or maybe from a sense that maybe my depression was something of a gift to help me see the world in a more unique, darker, and more creative way than the rest of the world, I stopped taking my medicine. After taking 50 Mg tablets for over 8 months and doing this is, well, really bad. And I hope you heed my advice if you plan on doing so.
This happened within this past month. I started two new jobs, moved to LA. Even with three roomates, the apartment was always empty. I had noone. There were many phonecalls, there were many, but late at night or on a long weekend, you just wished there was someone to see, touch, laugh.
It was truly lonely, sad. I found that if I was dating me, I would want to kill myself. Too much of me, sucked.
I never let that stopped me, I was an adventurous soul. I found places to be where I didn't need anybody, the beach, the cofeeshop, the bookstore. It was wonderous! I even read more books and articles in these spare weeks than I did in college, landing a gig with a local paper to cover concerts and bands. I would go to these amazing venues, alone, but without company I was free to take in every inch of the sights and sounds of the people around me. The lighting of the room, the laugh of a couple, the mood and atmosphere. It sucked being alone, but this would do.
As I slowly ran out of medicine, due to my lack of prescription refill planning, I lost control. I got physically sick, went to the ER for a bad case of the flu. Without them my happy pills, I felt really dizzy, vertigo. Everyday I felt like the world were circus mirrors, my eyes felt like bulging, and my migraines flushed the life out of me. Only I felt this. No one else. Each and everyday, if I didn't feel like emotionally dying, I felt like physically dying.
When I tell people this, they don't know what to say, when you tell them enough times, the answer is surprising but in actuality very realistic.
"If You want to die so much, why haven't you done it already?" Trust, I've been told this countless of times, and some of it from my closest friends (who didn't realize I haven't forgotten).
Well, the question is now rearranged. Why do you want to die? with Why haven't you died yet?
What is it that's keeping me here? I don't know.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
I was inspired for this article on the basis of how we construct reality. Everything has a meaning but who says that those meanings are supposed to be true? Here's some gestures that I found to be quite interesting.....
When you switch the V sign around you get a simple "fuck You" from the British. This next one actually makes sense considering my dad always ended up yelling at someone who did this to him.
So this gesture is only meant to be done to dogs in the Philippines. Do it to a person, and you've compared them to an animal you have to pick poop after.
No, the late President Corazon Aquino is not calling you a loser. This is the "Laban" or "fight" gesture used during the revolution to oust Marcos out of the Philippines. In America, it simply means:Yes....the best show ever. and you thought I meant "loser." A backwards V sign to you as my other hand tells you to come here.
Symbols, meanings, and reality are never universal. They are constantly created and changing. Here's some more if your interested.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
All in one e-mail title: Story Ideas and Reviews
Seasonal previews for fall often invite more songs and movies with lullaby tones, somber moods, and a need for a pick me-up after a wild rumpus of a summer. Now that the first rain has settled, I have some great music and movie reviews for the upcoming issue:
This week, the highly anticipated “Where the Wild Things Are” will hope to wake up the masses back to the sweet freedom of childhood. Will Spike Jonze bring us to this promise land, or is the story simply lost in translation on film?
In this same respect, the masters of folk and indie sensibilities are set to play at the Greek Theatre this month, and though Regina Spektor has been reviewed by your magazine before, the experience just might be better with the outdoor foliage. After “500 days of Summer,” Spektor’s lyrical amusements and provocative sound is as powerful as ever.
Speaking of power, another event describes the best of folk musicians simply as “monsters”. I find the definition befitting since the Monsters of Folk tour at the Greek Theatre will be a tremendous acoustic driven event that is sure to send coffee house tremors from the various sing-alongs that may occur.
I would love to review these films and concerts for your issue, and have attached some writing samples from other film and theatre reviews while I was at UCLA’s Daily Bruin. I freelance part-time with a strong attachment to the college community in LA. Let me know if you’re interested.
Screen Scene: “Taking Woodstock”
Aug. 24, 2009 at 1:11 a.m.
Advertisements for “Taking Woodstock” read, “It’s a trip,” and though the destination is worth it, the road to get there is a long and heavy wait.
Director Ang Lee (“Brokeback Mountain”) is best known for capturing the humanistic and psychological struggle of all his characters. The film is filled with scenes and nuances of the era, utilizing many effects to capture the feeling that came with 1969.
Following the actual 40th anniversary of the real Woodstock, the film takes the whole life-altering experience of the festival and focuses it on the coming-of-age of its central character, Elliot Tiber (Demetri Martin), the man responsible for making Woodstock happen.
Based off Tiber’s best-selling autobiography of the same name, the movie follows his struggle to live his own life while fulfilling an obligation to aid his parents in their ailing motel, the El Monaco, in White Lake, New York.
As head of White Lake’s Chamber of Commerce, Tiber approves the permit to hold the Woodstock Festival in White Lake after the festival loses its permit to an adjacent town.
In his first full-length movie as a lead character, actor-comedian Martin plays the awkward, waiting-to-get-out-of-his-
But it is only when Woodstock comes into his life that Tiber and the movie audience begin to wake up.
The audience is able to sense this conflict in the beginning of the film as it drags along Tiber’s experience with his overbearing mother (Imelda Staunton). In fact, her character as a grouchy immigrant shows the most interesting transformation and dramatic comedy in the movie. Just watch her eat a “special” brownie and see what happens.
Following the approval of the festival, chaos ensues as the town is literally flooded by hippies of the clothed and nude variety. With the influx of people creating massive traffic jams and food shortages, Lee truly captures the communal peace, love and psychedelic trips that defined the era.
He accomplishes this not only through small vignettes like Tiber’s experience with LSD but also through a technique of splitting the screen into two points of view. Though the view may create a little confusion, it is also an interesting way to effectively provide an insider’s perspective of all the different elements going on within a single scene.
Other recognizable characters in the film include Emile Hirsh (“Into the Wild”), Eugene Levy (“American Pie”) and Liev Schreiber (“Wolverine”).
Schreiber, who naturally extends a physical appearance like that of Rambo, plays cross-dressing bodyguard Vilma, who aids Tiber in becoming comfortable with his sexuality. All these minor characters add some richness to the film’s central storyline, but otherwise they are one-dimensional.
Besides the chaotic conflict of the concert’s overall planning and the town’s sudden population growth, Tiber is also trying to come to terms with his sexuality, which is downplayed a little too heavily in the film.
Don’t expect to ever see the actual concert; the film is all about what happens backstage, behind the throngs of concertgoers and promoters. It goes all the way back to the transformation of the individual.
– Denise Guerra
Theater Review: "Spring Awakening"
Nov. 26, 2008 at 12:22 a.m.
Teenagers having sex, nothing new there; in this day and age, we’ve become immune and amused. In 1890s Germany, where the topic of sex is treated like a case of cholera, “Spring Awakening” gives these teens a mic and lets the frustration fester into an all-out rock-and-roll musical fable. The theme is prevalent, but the experiences of the play’s characters are still as poignant, confusing and angst-filled as our own coming-of-age sexual entendres.
“Spring Awakening,” a 2007 smash hit on Broadway and eight-time Tony Award-winner is now playing for LA audiences at the Ahmanson Theatre until Dec. 7. The production’s controversies settle around explicit portrayals of homosexuality, masturbation and suicide.
For its brooding, highbrow hero Melchior, a Hollywood casting of blond Kyle Riabko is decent, like a darker, more intellectually mature Zac Efron from “High School Musical.” With the shadow of its Broadway predecessor, the energy of the new cast is not up to par with the original but still holds its own in its portrayal of electrifying musical numbers such as “Mama Who Bore Me.”
Written in 1891 by Frank Wedekind, “Spring Awakening” was readapted from the originally banned production to include more contemporary musical numbers against the backdrop of traditional Germany. Dealing with parents, teachers and authority figures who oppress the developing teenagers’ sexual desires, the play jumps inside the inner minds of these teens kicking and screaming to let their urges out to a catchy soundtrack of indie rock-and-roll numbers.
The extremely naive heroine, Wendla, played by Christy Altomare, is annoyingly innocent, but the progression of her character in the toils of her explicit encounter with Melchior grows into a deeper portrayal of her confusion and sheltered life.
However, expect to find yourself tapping your feet most to Melchior’s underachieving and over-sexually burdened schoolmate Moritz, who steals the spotlight in upbeat musical tempos such as “Don’t Do Sadness” and “The Bitch of Living.” When Moritz speaks, he exudes a quirky nervousness and jittery unrest that plagues him throughout the production. If this is just Moritz speaking, wait until the music is added.
The set design is structured with minimal stage props and relies on an array of stage and background lighting to convey various scene and mood changes. In a unique altering of theater traditions, the stage is crafted so that public audience members are seated at the sides of the stage, allowing the cast to interact with the audience and the band during the production.
Monday, October 5, 2009
Friday, August 28, 2009
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
...and summer in the real world involves a job with benefits." :)
-Albert Camus (*Thank You Sam)
It's been about two months, approximately, since leaving UCLA. 1 month since I've come back from home. Yo quiero cortar. One month it took me to decide that next week I move to Los Angeles for good. It was time, I had been lying around on the couch looking specifically for full time jobs in my area of speciality. Entry level, part-time, nothing.
It was only once I moved that about three weeks ago things started to come up. They were all part-time that a high school education could have provided me. So what the heck, I need the money I took all that I can, went to job interview after job interview for restaurants. Why this place, because I walked by one once and saw a beautiful hostess laughing, and another friend who brings home food and takes home tips. I was friendly enough, and dressed as if I had a date with a buisnessman. The interviews (plural) went well.
This week I started with a very friendly atmosphere that offered 10/hr plus tips and benefits. Part-time of course, because I also had an internship that paid nothing. Plus I still had work at the Boba place in a little Asian district near my house.
I found another restaurant that I can work at right after my internship and it seemed perfect. They hired me today... Yo quiero cortar.
Depression sucks because essentially you just have to deal with it. That's it. Deal with it. What does that mean? I laid flat on a pillow crying because I wasn't perfect and I make mistakes. I don't want to seem like someone who makes mistakes, I don't want the world to see me like that.
Yesterday, I ran into a job interview late and sweating with half an hour to get to training for a new job next door. The hiring manager took all those thirty minutes so I had to go. As much as I have called her, she hasn't called me since.
Today, I thought was my day off for training, I didn't look at the schedule, I simply assumed. (I'm accountable, yo quiero cortar). They called asking where I was, it was my third day on the job, so they rescheduled for tomorrow.
I also got hired at the restaurant near my internship. Yo quiero cortar, I had to reschedule with them twice when they told me today after my interview that I was to start. Again, my fault, I told them I can start ASAP. I told them the situation, that I had to work tomorrow. They said they'd call back. Never happened.
Why have I come to such conclusion? Every interview I have had with them they have called me two hours after to schedule another interview or to follow-up. I'm smart I can read actions. They simply needed someone who wasn't bogged down. After all this would be my fourth job, but they didn't know that, they only knew I had an internship and another restaurant job. No boba. Essentially no call, means no interest.
My dad says I should call tomorrow, like I should still care about it. It's so much easier to forget and walk away, then to linger onto hope. Hope, in these cases, is a dead end. You may ask why I have to do this to myself. Try to work 4 jobs. Simply its is my pride. I cannot say enough about how my parents love me, but I don't want to burden them with more money troubles. My dad is already scheduled to lose his job in October. I shouldn't tell you that though, it is a shame to reveal secrets. Yo quiero cortar.
So to pay rent and food and bills, I must resort to this. My pride is hurt that my awards and accolades that garner the bottom of my resume are mere embarrasments to reveal.
Okay, graduated Cum Laude, Phi Beta Kappa, at a presigious University, and I'm working minimum wage at a specialty drink store serving other students and working as a hostess near campus. Wow, imagen when school starts and the undergrads familiar with me see me seat them to their table. Screw all my achievements. Today I got hired and fired and already missed my first day of work. I can go on and on of such incompetence.
Voy a cortar but I wrote this instead.