Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Blog 61: Chodes in Action...(Adventures of a Chode Hunter Part Three)

Blog 61: Chodes In Action...(Adventures of a Chode Hunter Part Three)

Adventures of a Chode Hunter Parts One & Two are Blogs 31 and 52.

...As the rain rests in the distant a faint smell has approached the Tenderloin, and no, it is not the excess of urine brewing (that is a smell I must sadly say I have almost...almost is a key word here peeps...become accustomed to)

And it is not the smell of crack being smoked on both sides of me as I walk out of my apartment...the smell of piss is way stronger than that...

No, No, No...it is the smell of silly and not-so-silly trouble, of odd looks... giggles, loud snorts and a hushed voice saying “welllllllllll”

Yes, put your noise in the air and let the wind hit and breathe into your senses...sniff...sniff...it smells like some chodes up in this mug.

I do not know if it is the time of year, or the fact that I am single again...maybe my new perfume has a chode attractor I am not aware of...who knows...but in recent weeks, sightings of “Chodes in Action” have multiplied and sightings of Big Foots have gone down...and as a lady, I am always into seeing a big foot more than a chode...(I mean we all know what they say about a man with big feet)...anyhoo...

Sighting #1...
I felt their glazes on the back of my neck...every time I turned I would witness the last speck of them ducking behind another person...and as I twisted around I would catch a glimpse of them darting back out and felt their glance lay in my direction.

For the beginning part of the night we played this game...I trying to dance farther, them weaving behind me, alas the bar was too small and all my maneuvering away had made them weary and like a skilled set of chodes they posted up by the bathroom, where eventually I strolled.

Managing to dodge the chodes on the way in by ducking behind a tall fellow I was not as lucky upon my return...they had created a CHODE BARRIER with two of their friends (Chode Barrier=a line of 3 plus chodes standing shoulder to shoulder in order to not let hotties pass so a chode can than make a lame attempt to hit on a lady)...

As I approached the barrier I exhaled a hallowed breath of defeat...one of the original two men that were canvassing me stepped dead in my path as the three in the back tightened the line...extending his hand to me he said, “My friend thinks you are hot and wants to take you out”...I took a small glance up to see his friend flanking the right side of the line waving at me...the man in front continues...”I think you are pretty hot too, if you like me better”...as he finishes his friend approaches me...

He whispers in my ear...”I think you are hot”

As I stand there, not being able to put my head up, I shake...as giggles build in my belly, I try to remain calm...a giggle snort escapes and I am forced to grab the bar...

As I try to pass the barrier on the left, the Chode on that end grabs my shoulder and says, “I think you are hot”...grabbing his arm and keeping it straight so I could use it to pivot...I retorted...”I will have you all know that I am a cool 96 degrees”...I walked away leaving bewildered looks on their faces...The two chodes only approached me 5 more times that evening, each time, walking up, starring at me and saying “I think you are hot.” (Cause God knows, I hadn’t heard that before.)

Sighting #2
As I avoided the area around the bathroom at the second half of the show, I was approached by a TITLE CHODE (Title Chode= a chode who thinks because of his job, his background, or his status that he is hot and should get laid...i.e...I am a doctor, I am blah, blah, blah the third, I am a musician, I am Italian, I surf...that just this one aspect of them is enough to get them laid...oh and ps...most of the time the Title Chodes are lying and full of shit)

Without an introduction a young CIT (Chode in Training) approached and looked at me and said in the worst fake English accent ever... “I’m British”...I looked at him with my big doe eyes and a blank expression, he repeated... ”I’m British”...(was there a “Today we are all playing the Repeat Game” memo that I missed or something)...being flustered from the barrier before I replied with my standard...

“Wellllll, I only fuck chickens...definitely not English men.”

He excitedly replied in his real voice, “Can I watch.”

Again, the hallow breath of defeat, this time, lost at my own game...exhausted by the stench of not only chode but defeat...the final twist of the sword came when the CIT leaned in and said in the attempted English accent, “I would love to watch, and don’t forget...I’m British.”

I grabbed a cocktail napkin from the bar and raised it above my head, signaling the sign of surrender...(A Chode Hunter must call surrender when she has had to much chode-ness, or she might be devoured by all that is chode-ness...and start to respond...and feeding a chode’s fire, is the last thing you want to do.)

No good-bye lap at this show, my friends would understand when I told them I was under “Chode Attack” and outside I ran to hail a cab...

Sighting #3
As I whistled with my purple-flashlight-whistle-thingy...a town car pulled up...after he told me it would only be 10 bucks to take me home, I hopped in.

As he began to hit on me, I became uncomfortable and told him I was suddenly hungry and wanted him to stop soon so I could get a bite to eat...as he pulled up to a taco place I gave him 10 dollars and got out of the car...he tried to give me back my money and told me that he would come in with me and give me a ride home.

I explained to him that I liked to walk after I eat and would be walking home and he could go about his work evening...as he began to exit the car I put my whistle back to my lips and started to blow shrill-high-pitched notes out all while I pointed my finger at the driver...a chode is not always a dumb-ass for off the town car driver drove (please note: when you are driving or with a CHODE CREEPER wait till you are in a place with other people around before you let them know you are not interested...be a smart and safe Chode Hunter)

As I walked my way home, cork screw in one hand, whistle-flashlight-thingy in the other...I let the cold air numb my mind...I thought of all the other chode encounters I had experienced through out the week...

I needed to go home and re-energize and get my defenses back up, for this battle was far fiercer than I could have imagined...and as I walked into the pit of the Tenderloin the smell of urine overtook me and made me take two steps back...but the taste of chode lingered on my tongue...

Until the Next Hunt...



All right, walk up to the sink and turn on the water, open up the cabinet below the sink and check for any leaks, ohhhh, there is one...turn of the water and get down on your knees, grab your wrench from your tool box and start to work on tightening the pipe action-ness...remember... righty=tighty ...now turn the water back on, YES!!!! You stopped the leak, now please pull up the back of your pants...jezzzzzz...

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Blog 60: Being Heartbroken Sucks! (Love Tales Part V)

Blog 60: Being Heartbroken Sucks! (Love Tales Part V)

(Love Tales Parts I-IV are Blogs 10, 17, 35 & 47)

Sometimes I hate that these are my diaries and I have to be so fucking honest, that I have to show my weaknesses and my insecurities and put all this shit out there...but I am a firm believer that being honest is one of the best things that I can do...and this project began as my diaries, and I am going to stay true to that...no matter how much of a ding dong it makes me feel.

I am heartbroken and it SUCKS!!!!

It is like this hallow valley in the middle of my core that I can’t seem to cross, I will see an oasis once in a while along the desert path, but it is only a mirage, hiding the numbness that has taken over my being.

This is a notion I have been fighting for so long, but a decision I knew I had to make.

I met this man before I even started writing my diaries...he has been with me since the beginning. I have written about my frustrations, I have confessed my love for him for everyone to read, I have declared my freedom and acknowledge my comfort in his warmth. Yet our relationship has compared to the fiercest battle of ping-pong championship level action-ness ever.

We are lovers, we are in a relationship, we are committed, we aren’t committed, we are together, we are broken up, we got back together but we aren’t committed, we are committed...ahhhhhhhhhh.

(Anytime we were committed I stayed true...I take solace in that...anytime we were not committed I didn’t stop searching.)

I knew I had to come to a firm resolution this time around cause my neck was starting to fucking hurt...not to mention my heart.

I saw it touch down upon the horizon, others saw it...My friend told me a couple weeks ago while we butt walked, “ever since your trip I have seen you mourning the end of this relationship, and not being able to get there yet.” Maybe you did too, after all, one does not write “Being Alone” when their matters of the heart are at peace...I personally drank for like a week.

And as I dealt with the passing of a friend, I longed to have my partner by my side, to be held in his warmth, to simply cry in his arms.

Yet that was not an option for me...because I think one of the main reasons our relationship didn’t work was that he was never here...his job is on the road and when he was off the road he was like 3,000 miles away, where he lives...and that shit, that shit is hard...no matter how deep the connection fucking is.

And if I am going to commit to someone, I need them here, not all the time, but more often than not.

But what makes all of this so fucking hard...is how much we both truly love each other. Anyone that saw us together could see it, we both cannot deny it...it is the one thing that kept us coming back to each other. A deep-rooted connection that neither of us had ever experienced...the “wow” factor.

But we were not on the same page in life, and I am pretty sure that if one of us were able to, we would have offered the other a chance to jump aboard ship and experience the journey together...but neither of us were financially capable of doing that for the other...and I also think we were both too hurt from past relationships and losses to trust the other with our hearts as innocently as we should...guarded with our feelings...would be a good way to describe it.

I have often said, “Sometimes people can’t love each other the way they need to be loved.”

And it is a lesson I keep on learning.

And to be quite honest, a lesson I hate.

The only thing I can do is to learn from this, maybe that will dampen the sorrow that has begun to make my body ache.

Cause the truth of the matter is, I miss him...I do that thing that really pisses me off where I look at my phone to see if he called (to the point where I have just started to turn my phone off so I don’t look at that stupid thing anymore)...I check my email to see if he sent me a note and I think about reaching out to him even though I know I must stay strong...

For this conclusion has been reached for a reason.

The last time we broke...I jumped into a relationship with someone else way to fast and when I discovered it wasn’t right for me...and became so confused I yelled “Sabbatical”...(Yeah, that lasted for like 3 weeks...and I was totally impressed with myself...and if fact, this man is the only man I have been with since I broke sabbatical and since we have been apart for over a month...I have been on an un-purposed sabbatical, but one none the less)...And when I went back to him, he said that things would be different...but walking the walk and talking the talk are not the same things...and sometimes the talk that people talk...is not the walk they wish to take.

And when you truly love someone, you need them to take the path that makes them happy, and if that is not a direction that makes you happy, you need to acknowledge that, hug them a soft and everlasting hug, and ascend upon your own road that leads to your self-satisfaction.

Ain’t that the fucking truth!

My emotions go in ungallant waves, I’m okay, I’m not okay...yet I know, just as my daddy says, “This too shall pass.”

I walked the Labyrinth yesterday at Grace’s Cathedral...I started thinking, I can do this...than changed to...I have been here before...are we there yet...how did I end up close to the beginning...now I am more closer to the outside than the center...and than, just like that...I made it.

The whole time that I was having doubts, part of my mind acknowledged the fact that I knew I would make it...because I have before.

I knew I would question whether or not I could get to the center...but did not second guess what the end result would be.

And as I walk the Labyrinth of heartbreak, I know how the story ends but can’t help but ask, “Are we there yet?”



(Cause sometimes, you just need a new coat of paint)

All right, start by laying out your tarp, than begin taping the ceiling and the floor (remember we have other dancing moves to do and this is painting the “wall” not “room” so there is no need to go “tape crazy”)...go grab your paint can and the tray you pour the paint action into and the roller thingy and bring them to your tarp...open the paint can, damm that shit is a bitch and a half, don’t forget to stir the paint, pour it out on the tray action, grab your roller thingy, get some paint up on that bitch, and put a coat up on that wall...and do it right, or you will just keep on having to do it again and again.

That was some hard fucking shit to fucking write.

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Blog 59: People Don't Change...

Blob 59...People Don’t Change...

(*please note...the following is only my personal opinion, and this does not make it the truth, and lessons and other factors may change my opinion in the future...it is simply my view at this point.*)

People don’t change, they grow...from the highs, the lows and the lessons, they cultivate, slowly morphing into the person that stands before you.

And the person’s breath that stammers upon your face one day, may have evolved the very next.

I hear all the time that you “ You Can’t Change a Man.”

Well darlin, you can’t change anyone.

But they sure the hell can Grow, when they are fucking good and ready.

I personally believe that we are inherently who we are, we have something unique unto ourselves that does not match anyone else...I am also a firm believer that we are inherently good, and mean no ill intention.

The only way I can validate my point is to use myself as an example, for it is the being I know best.

I had very little friends growing up and when I went off to my first college in Humboldt, I lied...I made up stories about my parents and my past so I would sound cool and people would like me.

Can you say dumb ass?

What really gets me about this...Is that my parents are fucking cool as shit, I mean seriously, I brag about my parents all the time now, but at the time, I was young, dumb and needed to learn how to appreciate my parents, a lesson that I have aced with time.

And if I had given myself time to pass, I would have realized that my past is damm fucking special too, I just didn’t have enough confidence.

But throughout the fabrications, I was still me, I was still a good person, a great friend, a goof ball...I was me, my heart was still good and my intentions were pure...I was simply lost.

When I moved from Humboldt, I vowed to start over, to be honest...today I feel like my honesty is one of my best traits.

I see people from Humboldt from time to time and it is a constant reminder for me to be true and pure in my speech.

How much I have grown.

Sometimes you have to be pruned, and shrunken so your growth can go in many new directions.

I used to love to party, and darlin, I mean party...but the second time I had psoriasis I realized the toll my lifestyle was taking on my body...and I simply stopped...The lady that you see grooving at shows now, was not in the same head space a year ago...Funny, I don’t even miss it.

I actually enjoy the lucidity swirling in my brain...a certain clarity and I find myself wanting to do way more than simply “partying”...not to mention I get way more sleep which makes me feel even more awesomeness...

I still go out and have a great time, I still smoke pot and see colors, I even hang out with people that “party”...I simply feel I have a more acute awareness of reality than I used to (and people who are totally loaded I am way more conscious of...totally.)

And the whole thing has made me feel way more older, and wiser.

In fact with age I have begun to look more at myself as the root of my problems, and in order to truly Grow, my roots have to be strong.

I have learned that who I am as a person is truly a beautiful flower...but I am human, and succumb to my wants and desires...and each time I indulge in one of the seven deadly sins I come out wanting to do it less...to truly free myself of my human shortcomings.

Sometimes we don’t grow the way we need to in this lifetime, sometimes it takes many.

Sometimes we are stuck in the same rut, with the same results cause we fail to stare into the mirror...sometimes we stare too hard.

Things will be stagnant until one looks within...for that is where true growth comes from.

No, people don’t change, their core is their core, and it has a light.

It is simply how they choose to channel their light that changes over time.

And as we grow, may our inner light grow...having it become the sun, and encouraging growth within others.



All right, start with your bucket of soapy water and your rag...bring that action up to the car, place it down, now grab your hose, brace yourself, and give the car a good squirt down...get your rag all soapy and start to wash your car in a “wax on, wax off” motion...make sure you get it all, including the hubcaps...okay now it is spray down time, you know you got to “accidentally” get the person that walks by your car...opps...all right all the suds are off and it is time to towel dry (please do not use the hood of your car as a slip & slide)...damm, that car is looking clean...totally.

Monday, January 2, 2012

Blog 58: Blessing & Tenderloin Weapons (Part III)

Blog 58...Blessings & Tenderloin Weapons (Part III)

I need to take a moment to tell everyone how blessed I feel...my family suffered a loss this New Year’s Eve...our friend died, struck by a car after the Further show on the 30th...It is a blow that has struck the family deep, that caused our minds to quake and our hearts to break...

And I feel blessed, for I saw my friend that night of the 30th, I saw him smiling his beautiful smile, I saw him looking fly (he even had his sparkly hat on) I witnessed him enjoying himself in the blissfulness of the show, I had the extreme privilege to tell him that I loved him, all a couple hours before he flew away and left this world.

The last images I have of him in my head are those of him doing what he loved to do most, with the people he loved, smiling as big as he always smiled...what a beautiful memory to have etched in my mind...and such a fitting thought of my friend.

And I implore all of us to tell our friends and family how much we love them all the time, as often as you can, for you never know when death won’t have no mercy in this land...and I take solace in knowing that my friend knew exactly how much I loved him, it is a small warmth that heats the frost infiltrating my heart.

And not only do I beg all of you to share your love, but also be safe...look out for yourself and one another.

My family is always concerned for my safety living in the Tenderloin...which might explain why I got over 3 new tenderloin weapons for Christmas.

(Tenderloin Weapons Parts I & II are blogs 8 and 20, respectively)

Now none of these new weapons surpass my all time favorite of the Corkscrew...still my #1...light weight, fierce and completely legal, I intimidate walking the streets at night with my corkscrew out...my dad and friends, obviously thought I needed a little more artillery...like...

The Crazy Ass Flashlight:
How pumped was my dad when he gave me my new Tenderloin Weapon (I can not believe he expects me to carry this beast in my purse)...this flashlight not only has three settings including a blinding flashing light that would stop a crack head in its tracks, it also has a heavy-scalloped brim that would open someone’s head on first blow...did I mention that my dad also had my last name engraved on it so when I wallop the crack head on the dome the last thing they are going to see is my last name “Powers” flashing before their eyes...if there is a time to say “Settle down dad.” This might be that time.

The Key Chain Alarm:
I’m pretty sure my dad was thinking, “if she can’t grab her corkscrew, flashlight, fan, kazoo, whistle etc...she can grab her keys” (I think my purse now constitutes an arsenal) I actually was not surprised when I pulled out of my stocking a Key Chain Alarm, a blaring noise that far surpasses the annoying shrill of techno music...with this deafening sequence of beeps aint no one going to be able to break into my back seat.

Silly String:
My friend came over with a couple small gifts and as he held the last one out, a smile spread over his face, and he said, “This you will love.” I started to jump around in excitement as I unveiled the package, thrusting the can of silly string into everyone’s face so they could see my prize. And let me tell you...crack heads freak the fuck out over silly string! I recommend if one bothers you to start your spraying and then continue in a full circle around them so you can encompass them with your string, you can even yell “You’re a mummy now” and run away...you will have at least five minutes to run away, which gives you like a 20 min head start in crack head time (they get distracted easily)

Other weapons that I find work quite well are nail files and the whistle I use for getting cabs...

I was really impressed by the old lady walking around with a wrench in her hand...and I thought I was a bad ass.

Worse comes to worse you can throw some white tic-tacs on the sidewalk and go “fuck I dropped my rocks.” No one will pay any attention to you after that, and the whole block’s breath will smell good...twofer.

Do what you have to do keep safe, the family does not need another loss, we have suffered enough.

Remember the significance of loud noises and telling people that you love them.

Simply Remember.

I was given the New Year’s Eve ticket of my friend who passed...I went in his place. It was the hardest show that I have ever gone to, I cried for most of it...I had to leave before the encore, my knees began to give out.

I was told they encored with “Terrapin Station.”

I replied, “I got my inspiration.”



Why I did not do this one sooner, I have no idea, but a classic is a classic.

Start by taking your left hand and bringing it to the back of your head keeping your elbow out. Extend your right hand out straight ahead and start to slowly pump in around in a half moon shape, now bring it back with faster pumps, and repeat this succession...until you got a good soak on.