good read

So i just finished reading "Atlas Shrugged" by Ayn Rand...I really loved it..but from what i hear most people either love it or they hate it..I thought it provided a really interesting social philosophy..for those of you interested in social theory i highly recommend reading it..who knows you might change your own beliefs...

finals finals finals...

i just cannot believe that the semester is almost over...i am thoroughly looking forward to a nice long summer.. but i must say that this class has really opened my eyes to a lot of 1st amendment free speech issues and im glad that i got to be in hcom 310

morality

have you ever wondered where we get our moral and ethical standards? It is obvious to conclude that every living being lives by some code of ethics, but how and why do we see differentiation between individuals? For instance, some philosophers argue that all of our morality and ethics are simply social constructs, which would explain why we see different sets of values varying from culture to culture. But notice if you go along that train of thought, than are we merely products of our environment? Furthermore, if they are social constructs who decides what is "right" or "wrong"? the government? the people, because they vote for the government? my point being is that things that this culture has deemed as right or wrong are not necessarily as such, merely they are what we have been taught as right or wrong. This to me is scary because if what i've said above holds to be true, than we are no better then lemmings following a leader. Is it because we are afraid to think on our own? that we would rather be told what to think and how to feel rather than trust our own instincts and rationality?...just some questions i had rolling through my mind this afternoon.

thursday....

I think it's really interesting that in our class discussion on Thursday we spoke about Annie Sprinkle and about how some of her material may not have been appropriate to show in class because it might make people uncomfortable. The irony here is we had a few particular situations in class that day that certainly did not make me feel comfortable. Now, I know we all like the sound of our own voices (at least I sure do) but not at the cost of getting stressed out or upset over. It really irks me when people start to take things personal. This is an academic setting, we are suppose to be able to talk about issues that we don't agree on , but also to do so in a respectful way. It really amazes me that we have this petty arguing going on over matters that are irrelevant and take away from class discussion of matters that actually pertain to the subject matter.

I cant believe there are only a few weeks left until finals! where has this year gone?
is everybody enrolled for next fall??? ahhh i cant wait until summer... :)

monday funday!

So its only Monday and I already cannot wait for the week to be over!! I'm stressed out about midterms, grades, online classes, money, bills. Ahh! I feel like when it rains it pours. Oh well, I guess I'm also a little but apprehensive about what I am going to do after I leave CSUMB. Ideally, I would like to get into a graduate program but I feel like there is so little information given to us about higher education and it makes my future seem hazy, which I do not like. I wish there were more programs at CSUMB that took the intiative to inform students about progams for Masters and Doctorate programs..and if there are progams like this that I am unaware of, someone let me know!!

short story.

So I wrote this story for my creative writing class; and while there is some fictional aspects to it; the main piece is true and happened to my mother. Lemme know how ya like it!

It was a hot summer. The weather man promised that the sweltering heat wave would continue for the next few weeks. Highs soaring into the triple digits he claimed with a wink and a smile as the camera panned back to the anchorwoman. Mom cursed under her breath and took a long drink of her soda pop. I was more enthused with the heat; I loved the long days of summer. Playing in the tall dry grass, or roaming amongst the orange groves; there were endless adventures to partake in and life was as simple as the oranges were sweet. Who would have known that in those few, hot sticky months, a veil of innocence would be lifted from my eyes and never again could I see our sleepy little town through the eyes of a child. That long windless day in mid-July altered my perception of life so utterly and totally that it completely changed the course of my life.
The day started off just like any other Saturday, I slept in until the heat crept its way slowly but surely into my room making it impossible to linger in bed a second longer. I walked down the hallway thankful that the linoleum felt cool under my bare feet. Mom was already cooking breakfast which made me realize just how ravished I was. “One or two eggs honey?” she called over the crackling sound of frying bacon and potatoes. “Better make it two, I’m starving!” While waiting for breakfast, I took the liberty of pouring myself a cup of coffee. Up until recently I found the drink to be horribly bitter and strictly for adults, however these last few months I had acquired a fond taste for the beverage and in particular the jolt of caffeine that came along with it. Mom still didn’t really like the idea of me drinking coffee, something about it stunting my growth, but I didn’t care, I was sixteen now and besides I already knew everything. Shortly after breakfast our phone rang. As usual, mom was the first to it; ever since my brother joined the Navy she never strayed too far from the communication device and I was beginning to think she was a little bit paranoid.
“Hello?” my mom called into the phone and then after a brief silence I heard, “may I ask who is calling?” This perked my attention and I wondered who this caller could be. “Just a second,” mom replied to this mysterious caller just before she called my name. “JoJo, you have a phone call!” My heart surged a bit as I anticipated all the people who could possibly be calling me. I jumped up from my chair and skipped to the phone stopping just short of plowing through the sliding glass door. “Hi, this is Jo!” I said half out of breath. “Hey its Jim, what are you up to today?” I could hardly contain the excitement in my voice. Jim was my new boyfriend, or at least that was what it seemed like. All my girlfriends at school seemed to think he liked me and just a few days ago he had asked for my number. “Hey Jim, I don’t really have any plans yet, just hanging out at the house, it sure is a hot day.” I listened intently into the receiver waiting for this response. “Yeah, it really is hot out. My mom said I could have some friends over to swim in our pool and I was wondering if you could like to come.” I simply couldn’t believe my ears! “Of course, I would love to come! I need to ask my mom first because I need a ride into town; hang on just a sec!” I put my hand over the receiver and quickly asked mom if she would please please please take me into town so I could go swimming. She contemplated the idea before responding, “Well I suppose I could drop you off in town since I have to take your sister to get some new shoes anyways.” I picked up the receiver again, “Jim? My mom said she would take me into town, I’ll see ya soon!” I don’t even think I heard his response because I was already running to my room to get my stuff ready.
Forty-five minutes later we were riding along the two lane road into town. The heat created mirage-like waves in front of the car, but they always seemed to remain just slightly out of reach. Mom blasted the air conditioner and pretty soon the car was like an ice box. On the way into town I thought about Jim; he was the sandy haired boy I had been in love with since eighth grade. He belonged to the “in” crowd and I admired the ease in which he did things. Anything from chemistry to running track, Jim could not only perform but he could perform well. Oh sure he had other social attributes too,(not that these things really mattered to me at the time) for instance he came from a wealthy respectable protestant family that was highly involved in the community. One might even say he was the kind of guy you would love to hate, if you could only find a reason to hate him and in this way he made many people jealous.
Still preoccupied with my thoughts, I didn’t even realize we had already made the trek into town and had stopped outside of Jim’s house. Mom turned my way and said to call her when I was ready to be picked up. “Don’t make it too late Jo, I want to have dinner ready by 6.” Already half way up the front walkway I called back,” yeah sure mom no problem! I’ll see ya later!” I stood in front of Jim’s white colonial style house complete with a brick walkway and for the first time I realized I was actually a bit nervous. Nonetheless, I sauntered up to the big black door, let the shiny brass knocker rise and fall a few times and stood still. A minute went by but it seemed like an eternity, unsure of what to do, I rang the doorbell; after all everyone could just be out back swimming. Still my ring went unanswered and now I was beginning to become uneasy. Finally, I heard footsteps from within the house and momentarily I forgot why I had even doubted him.
Jim opened the door slightly and stuck his head out; which struck me as odd because I knew he didn’t have any animals he kept indoors. I waited a moment, half expecting him to see it was me and swing the door open but when that didn’t happen I looked to his face for an explanation. He bore a weak smile and on closer inspection I noticed that his normally tan skin looked rather pale. “Uh, hey Jo, how’s it going?” I stood there in with my bathing suit on and towel in hand and replied, “Hey, I’m good; I can’t wait to jump in the pool though!” Jim looked like he had physically been hit in the face, “well about the pool,” he paused as if trying to pick out the best words,” my mom said I could invite you over before she realized…” he trailed off and I stood there waiting for him to finish. “Realized what?” I finally stammered. “Well that you’re uh…ya know…Mexican,” he replied with a sense of finality.
For a second I thought he must have been joking, I mean this was the 70’s; and wasn’t racism over anyways? When I finally realized he wasn’t kidding I asked if I might be able to use the phone to call my mother for a ride. Further embarrassed he said softly,” Actually Jo, I’m not allowed to let you in the house at all.” My cheeks flushed to bright burgundy and without saying anything, I turned slowly and walked back down the long brick drive. Once I got to the corner of Jim’s street I ran several blocks to the nearest pay phone and sat outside the booth still thoroughly shocked at what had just happened. Since it took mom about thirty minutes to get back home I had plenty of time to think about what I was going to tell her.
This was the first time something like this had ever happened to me. I I felt ashamed and hurt but these feelings where only temporary. I realized that while Jim may have had everything on the outside; he lacked so much on the inside that he could never be happy. Who cares if I was Mexican and my skin darker than his? Why was that a problem and furthermore what kind of parents promoted this kind of issue. At once, all of the high school crush feelings dissipated and all that was left for Jim was sorrow and pity. I may have not been white or rich but I was proud of my culture and proud of my parents for providing me with such a moral soundness that I would never question or be afraid of who I was. I decided not to tell my mom about the incident that day; it wasn’t worth my time to speak of such shallow people and besides I knew in my heart of hearts what was right and what was wrong. I felt no desire to speak of Jim or his mother ever again and as I rode away out of town I said I silent prayer for them; that one day they might understand their flaws and find the power to overcome them.

so rude.

You know what really gets me? Is when people talk on their cell phones when they are in line to purchase or order something. I work in a restaurant that deals with a lot of take out and it never ceases to amaze me how rude people can be. Literally, some people will stay on their phone the whole time and simply point to the items like f**king cavemen ..thrust their cash or card in my face and grab their food without so much as a thanks or even waiting for their receipt. I mean we all see signs everywhere that says please don't use your cell phone in line. But really, should signs like this even be necessary? I mean why the hell cant people just have common decency and manners towards other people. Really though.. i have no faith in humanity at the moment. Props to all those who work in customer service and put up with this bullshit on a daily.
that is all for now.

jade hunting

The only thing Saturday promised was that it would most likely be rainy throughout the day. That being said, I knew, there was a good chance that I would be caught in it. Some friends had offered to take my roommate and I Jade hunting in Big Sur. We were forewarned that the trails could be difficult, especially if it was rainy and we agreed to go nonetheless. On the car ride down, our friends showed us various pieces of the beautiful stone found on previous excursions. Seeing these pieces really made me anxious to get out and start looking. I was a bit apprehensive about the drive down to Big Sur; as I’ve never really been a fan of two lane cliff roads. On the way down I thought a lot about my life. The past week had sucked, I’d let school readings fall behind, work had been scary slow, and romantic life was very confusing; I felt agitated and uneasy. To make matters worse, it was Valentine’s Day. Finding a piece of jade became a mission that I needed to accomplish in order to keep my mind off of my problems and thus keep my sanity. I desperately needed this break from reality. Shit even just a break from cell phone service would be nice, and I was quite pleased when I realized I had no signal. After about an hour of driving we pulled up to the first location.
Before I knew it, I was out of the car and scrambling along some rocks at the base of the cliff. I tried to keep up without smashing my skull on the jagged formations, or fall into the grey ocean that kept sending angry waves my direction. Finally we reached the rocky beach and at last I could begin my hunt. Looking for that clear green treasure proved to be more difficult than I had anticipated. Not only did one have to balance and squat near the rocks but they also had to keep an eye on the waves that crashed onto the beach every 30 seconds or so. I laughed to myself when a wave caught all of us off guard and we were left drenched in the salty water. After that first wave, I became like a shore bird, occasionally darting to and from the water, becoming as instinctually aware of the vibrant and dangerous waves as my own breathing. Every fiber of my body was happy to be near the ocean, in the rain, spending time with dear friends. I began to realize that even if I didn’t find any jade at all, the trip itself was washing me clean of all the problems that haunted me. I lifted my face toward the rain drops and let them run down my face, soaking in my surrounding entirely.
Feeling instantly refreshed, I stooped down to the rocks again, and there just under a large flat stone was a tiny piece of green. My heart surged, I dropped to my knees and with delicate fingers plucked the tiny green stone out of the mass of rocks. I laid the tiny square piece in the palm of my hand and I was sure, just as it was raining, that I had found my first piece of jade. Delighted, I ran over to my friends to ask for the confirmation that I already knew would come. Smiling and laughing they told me that I had officially found my first piece of jade. “How does it feel?” they asked. “Well,” I replied carefully, “I don’t think words can exactly describe it.” Knowingly they nodded, “Now, you are a jade hunter.” Looking back, it is amazing how the simplicity of searching for jade can bring one such happiness and inner peace. While it is an ineffable feeling, I can say that is has forever changed my perception of life and what it means to be truly happy.

Im just the Bartender's Roommate/ Superbowl Sunday

I’m Just the Bartender’s Roommate
I’m sleeping off the side effects of drinking too much vodka, when my cat Pepper Anne bounds up from the floor and peers into my puffy red eyes. She meows; nudges my face and arm in the hopes that she will receive some pets. I stroke her soft black fur with my eyes closed because I’m still unwilling to wake up, but soon my dreams escape me and I am fully conscious. I roll over, scan my cell phone for the hour and groan when I realize it’s already twelve-thirty. Not only is it twelve-thirty but its Super Bowl Sunday, I struggle to even recall who is playing today; not that it really even matters to me. My roommate staggers into the room, looking exactly like I feel. ,”Hey pal, how ya feeling?,” she asks in a scratchy voice. “Like shit,” is all I can muster up. “I know, I’ve definitely had better days,” she chuckles ,” and I don’t really want to work today but it is Super Bowl and I’ve got a hunch that it may be busy.” Still curled under the covers, I half sit up and squint in her direction. “Well I was going to go watch the game at Tyler’s but I wouldn’t mind coming in and keeping you company instead.” Her eyes brighten, “Really? Oh I wish you would, I don’t want to be around all the locals by myself, you know how they can be.” “Oh I know only too well,” I manage a smile, throw back the covers and swing my feet onto the floor,” it’s decided then, I’ll go hang out with you at the bar.”
Eight glasses of water, a shower and a breakfast burrito later, we are bouncing along the two lane ocean road on the way to the bar. I decide that a glass of red wine accompanied with a glass of sparkling water would certainly lift my spirits and express my idea to Michelle. ,” Perfect!” she exclaims, “I just opened a Pinot Noir that you will absolutely love!” I’m already thinking that this could be a long day. As we pull into the parking lot, I take note that there are several parked cars outside, more than usual, and I’m hoping the people residing in the bar are decent company. We stroll into the building and while my eyes adjust to the dim lighting I am already scoping out the scenario. At the moment, there is only one individual at the bar, and from behind, all that I can conclude is that he is a balding, fat man with levi jeans and a dirty tee shirt. So much for decent company I mutter under my breath. I turn to find Michelle but she has already sprinted up the stairs to clock in.
Reluctantly I walk over to the bar and take a seat as far away from man as I possibly can. Apparently this isn’t far enough because he turns to me and says hello. Immediately I am appalled and intrigued all at once. At first all I can look at is his nose, it’s bulbous, red and pock marked, but even more noticeable than that is its sheer size. It is perhaps the largest snout I have ever seen. A set of thick gold rimmed glasses cover up his glassy bug eyes and I know in an instant he has had a lifelong relationship with alcohol. His hands are large and callused with black scum underneath each fingernail and when he talks I can see his black, rotting teeth. “Hullo there my dear, Sampson is the name, are you here to watch the game too?” I cringe and glance around for my roommate, where the hell is she? Finally, I spit out, “Michelle is my roommate and I am here to keep her company and watch the game.”
After what feels like ten years later Michelle comes running down the stairs and into the bar. Relief washes over me and I ask her for the amazing glass of Pinot. Grinning, she pours me a glass, nearly to the brim before fixing her attention to Sampson. “Well hey Sampson, “she says politely in her sweet soprano voice,” here to watch the game with us?” Sampson takes a long drink of beer, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and says, “You bet I am, I am so lucky to be watching the game with such beautiful women in my company.” I vomit a little in my mouth and cast Michelle a look that says Who the fuck is this guy? She walks over and whispers,” He is a local and a personal friend of the owner, so the staff is supposed to be nice to him.” I shrug it off; at least I have a glass a wine.
I am thoroughly enjoying my glass of wine when I hear quite a commotion coming from the entrance. I crane my head in that direction only to notice a man in his mid-fifties come barreling through the door heading right for Sampson, all the while yelling something incomprehensible. “Howdy partner! Ready for the game?” is what he finally says when he gets close enough. Immediately Sampson and the stranger fall deep into conversation and for a split second I am happy. Unfortunately, a split second isn’t long enough, because in the next moment this overzealous stranger is asking Michelle for a glass of Pinot Noir. I can feel my anger rising because I know this is the last bottle of my favorite wine and this ass hole is going to gulp it down like bad tasting medicine, just to get drunk.
I manage to make it through the first half of the game with only several rude and inappropriate comments flung in my direction and I consider myself lucky thus far. I notice in the reflection of the wine cooler that several other guests have come into the bar and are sitting on the tables directly behind me. I am grateful than I am not the only one who has to put up with the never ending pointless chatter from Sampson and his friend. I notice that Sampson has asked Michelle for a bottle of red wine while he is still busy finishing his beer. Michelle opens the wine, pours Sampson and his friend a glass before looking my direction, “Another glass of wine Sugar?” she asks me. Sampson interjects, “Of course she will have another glass!” Quick as lightening, but clumsy as a toddler Sampson swoops up my glass and manages to pour me a glass of wine. Which I figure is the least he can do for being so annoying. Minutes go by, the game goes on and I hear Sampson request another bottle of wine, this time I politely decline his offering and opt for the sparkling water instead.
“It’s time to break the seal,” I say jokingly to Michelle as I head toward the lavatory. When I return to my seat I quickly realize the Sampson and stranger/ friend have gotten completely out of control. The stranger is yelling out Anti-Semitic slurs, in English, German and French while Sampson plays instigator. At first, I try to ignore it, but their conversation is steadily increasing in volume and pretty soon everyone in the entire bar is aware of their conversation. A man standing behind me attempts to tell the stranger that he is ridiculous bastard and has no right to slander a race or religion in a public place, to which the stranger responds, “Free Speech Bitch.” The man, along with several other customers leaves the bar at once and immediately my eyes flash across the room to my roommate who is wearing a look of utter shock and disgust. Sampson and the Stranger continue along in this matter until at last I cannot take it anymore.
I swing around on my barstool, hop off and walk a few feet so I can stand squarely in front of these two large, drunk men. “Excuse me sirs, I know I’m just the bartenders roommate, but I came here to have a good time and watch the game. Now I don’t really care what your religious, political or moral views are, nor are they my business, furthermore they should not be discussed in a place such as this. Again I understand your right to “free speech” but I believe that one loses that right if it infringes on another’s safety and wellbeing, which sir you have done more than once in the last several minutes. So gentlemen, if you’ve come to watch the game, than by all means, watch the game, but if you’ve come here to get drunk and offend people I’m afraid you have chosen the wrong bar.” Smiling sweetly I turn on my heels and hop back on my barstool, happy for the brief silence that follows my speech. The silence is brief and all too soon I realize it is merely the calm before the storm. The stranger is drunk, enraged and a racist, which is never a good combination, within minutes he is escorted out, I smirk happily into my wine and return to the game. Now if only Sampson would leave….

blogger mania!!!

thank goodness it is almost Friday!!!