The Berto Blog

Another "Nine" post

noreply@blogger.com (Roberto) — Fri, 13 Nov 2009 18:14:00 +0000

I know what you're thinking.... I'm obsessed with this upcoming film.

As much as I hate the Weinstein Co. for pushing back the release date to December 25th, I must give them props for knowing what they are doing. They have only released the tiniest of teases and no actual trailer or full-blown promotion. I seriously cannot take it anymore. The foreplay has been going on forever and I am desperate for the real thing. I am praying that the movie will be as good as I hope it will be. Regardless of the end product, it's going to be a huge movie when it opens.

But enough of me talking about it. Here are two newly released clips from the movie.

First up, Kate Hudson singing.

Everyone on the net has been anxious to hear what she sounds like. Moreover, the musical's original composer (Maury Yeston) wrote an entirely new song for her. You've all heard me rant about Kate being in this movie. Aside from her performance in Almost Famous, I think she is a rather lousy actress who makes bad movies. You know I think she has no business being in this movie. Furthermore, her character originally only sang one verse in the musical and they expanded the role for her.

The first time I heard this new song ("Cinema Italiano"), I hated it. It is glaringly different from the other songs in the score. It is completely out of place (e.g. it sounds slightly Madonna-ish). But, dammit, the song is uber catchy. I have not been able to stop playing it or getting it out of my head. Her voice is surprisingly mature and strong. I still hate Kate Hudson. And I still think this song should not be in Nine's score. But I can't help liking it. *sigh*

What do you think?

Secondly, Penelope Cruz's phone sex song - "A Call from the Vatican."

Aside from Fergie's "Be Italian" number, this is the song that is getting (pseudo) massive promotion. People (myself included) have been dying to see and hear her perform this famous song. I say pseudo promotion because the Weinstein Co. have released tons of stills and silent clips of the performance, but never actually let us hear what it sounds like. Until now.

It's a minuscule clip. A mere 20 seconds of footage. It's a tease of a teaser. And now I am truly dying to see the whole thing!

Before I go, I want to share another current obsession...... http://nine-themovie.blogspot.com/

I check this blog multiple times a day just to see if there are any updates on the movie. It is an excellent blog that posts everything and anything relating to the film adaptation of Nine. If you are even remotely interested in this movie, I encourage you to check out this blog.

Cheers,

- R

Journey to the past and a trip back to reality

noreply@blogger.com (Roberto) — Tue, 03 Nov 2009 19:56:00 +0000

I am back from my Bay Area road trip.

I spent my last day of work anxiously awaiting my reunion with my old friends. Then, I was so filled with nervous energy that I woke up at 2am. Unfortunately, I had gone to bed only two hours prior and my alarm was set to go off two hours later. I don't think I actually went back to sleep because I was wide awake when I awoke prematurely. When my alarm finally went off around 4am, I simply turned off the alarm and proceeded gingerly to get ready as though it were 4pm.

I made a necessary pit stop before hopping on the freeway. Tank full and a very strong cup of coffee in my hand, I made my way toward LA to pick up Brandon at his apartment. I arrived at his apartment building and found myself all jittery with excitement. It had been over a year since I bid farewell to him in Boston. I don't know if it showed, but I was totally giddy when we got to see each other again and began our long journey to Berkeley.

The one aspect of this trip that I was dreading was the drive to and from the Bay Area. I hate driving and am horrible when it comes to directions. I had imagined us getting lost in some dreadful place or somehow ending up in Mexico (knowing me, I would find some way to end up heading south instead of north and never realizing it). Luckily, Brandon had a GPS that he brought along. I always knew GPS devices were wonderful things, but now I learned first-hand how amazing those little computers can be. It made the trip a simple and painless thing. It is definitely going to be my next big purchase.

I only made a few stops along the way to Berkeley. One stop at a gas station (somewhere past Oxnard, I think) to use the bathroom and buy some nourishment. The next stop was in King City for gas and another bathroom break. We had originally planned to make a stop before that to eat at In n Out, but we ended up driving past it. We could have stopped for food elsewhere, but we were craving Double-Doubles. Thanks to my Blackberry, we knew that another In n Out was 96 miles away from where we were. So we filled the tank and made our way to that In n Out. And it was worth the wait!

From the land of delicious burgers and fries we drove straight to Berkeley without making any further stops. Aside from the traffic we encountered due to the Bay Bridge being closed, we made it to our hotel without any difficulties. We left LA at about 7am and made it to Berkeley around 3pm or so. We could have arrived sooner, but Brandon had really wanted us take PCH. Taking CA-1 and the 101 made it a longer trip, but it was a really nice drive.

Our friend Bika was waiting for us at the Downtown Berkeley BART station, so we didn't have much time to rest after getting into our room. I didn't mind though because I could not wait for the Boston trio to reunite. It was so wonderful getting to see dear Bika again. I wiped everything but the present from my mind the moment the three of us were together again. At that moment, as far as I was concerned, I was back in my Boston life. We hadn't gone our separate ways. It was the good old days again. It was as it should be.

We spent the day walking around Berkeley. Showing Brandon some of Cal's campus. Walking down Telegraph Ave.. Going into costume shops to look for last-minute accessories. Nothing wild; just experiencing the city. The big event was later that night. We had bought tickets for American Idiot at the Berkeley Rep. Brandon and I ended up with amazing seats. We sat front row center. The actors were just a few feet from us. It was a good show. Clearly inspired by other rock, youth-oriented musicals like RENT, Hair, and Spring Awakening. It made me want to rediscover the Green Day discography. Eventually, the night came to an end and we said goodbye to Bika.

The next day was spent exploring San Francisco. My friend Leya would not be able to meet us until after 5pm, so Brandon and I were on our own until then. We walked along Market Street. I ate my fill of free samples at the Port's farmers' market. From the Port of San Francisco. We walked along all the piers until reaching the famous Pier 39. Brandon really wanted to see the sea lions, so that's exactly what we did. From there we continued walking all the way to Fisherman's Wharf. Brandon wanted to check out Chinatown, so we took a bus back to Market Street and walked to Chinatown and Little Italy. By then it was time for us to head back to Berkeley to change into our Halloween attire. Brandon was Dexter (television's favorite serial killer, not the cartoon child genius) and I was a fancy cat. What the hell is a fancy cat, you say? I wore some dressy, trendy clothes paired with cat ears and a black eye mask. And that, my friends, is a fancy cat. Lame, I know. But I couldn't think of anything else and never had time to go to my parents' house for legitimate costumes.

We BARTed back over to San Francisco and met up with Leya. I hadn't seen Leya since last xmas. The funny thing about Leya and I is that we never see each other. She's one of my best friends, but we only see each other once a year. We've simply accepted that this is the way it's going to be and it works for us. We are great friends regardless. After meeting up with Leya and making the necessary introductions, we had dinner at Cheesecake Factory. I personally would have preferred a restaurant that wasn't a chain, but Brandon had never been to this restaurant before. Our plan was to party at the Castro and the Mission, but the famous Castro Halloween party was basically shut down ever since some guy shot people at the 2007 party. He ended up killing one person and a huge tradition. Bastard.

We walked around the Castro and Mission, but the city was really dead. After a brief interlude at a bar, we eventually met up with another friend of mine. My friend Ash invited us to a party at a local club, but we didn't end up going. Brandon just wasn't feeling up for it, so we said our goodbyes to Ash. I invited Leya to come back to Berkeley with us, but she ultimately decided to stay in the city. So I bid her adieu until next year's meeting. The night ended with Brandon and I passing out in our room while watching tv.

The next morning we left Berkeley at about 8am. We had originally intended to stop in Santa Barbara, but never did. Since we ended up taking the 5 instead of the 101 home, there were no signs announcing nearby cities. We simply forgot about Santa Barbara and didn't remember until we entered LA County. It was a big "oops moment." We decided that we would have to dedicate a future road trip just to Santa Barbara. We arrived in LA at 2pm. I was going to stick around and hang out in my old stomping grounds with Brandon, but I was pretty tired. I just wanted to get home and collapse on the couch. So I once more said goodbye to Brandon.

It was just three days and they flew by, but what a wonderful three days. The only repercussion was the aftermath of my reunion with my old friends. I was really down yesterday at work. I'm normally very introspective, but I couldn't put my finger on why I was so down in the dumps. Then I realized what was wrong. I chose to ignore the fact that my reunion was only temporary and the impact of having to once again say goodbye to my Boston friends had finally hit me. I hate goodbyes more than anything. They tear me up inside. I really wish I weren't so damn sentimental, but if I haven't been able to break this by now...

Oh well. It was good times all around. :)

Cheers,

- R

...the San Francisco treat!

noreply@blogger.com (Roberto) — Tue, 27 Oct 2009 20:51:00 +0000

It's official... I am going to be spending this weekend in San Francisco.

I leave Friday and come back Sunday. I thought I would be going alone, so I was almost certain that I was not going to end up going. I have two good friends up there, but the prospect of driving up there and back all alone was a deterrent. It all seemed like such a hassle. A 6-hour road trip by myself sounded so boring. I was so tempted to just stay home.

But I just got a text from my Boston friend currently studying in LA saying that he would be able to accept my invitation. So now I won't be going alone, which is great. But the real treat is that it will be a Boston reunion because we'll be meeting up with a another Boston friend who lives in the Bay Area. The three of us lived in the same building during our time in Boston and became very close.

Brandon and I will be driving up to Berkeley on Friday morning. Brandon has heard many a good thing about driving on PCH, so we'll be taking the scenic route up to Nor Cal. Once there, we'll meet up with Bika. We will be spending the day in Berkeley and then seeing American Idiot (the new Green Day musical based on their hit album of the same name) at the Berkeley Rep. The next day we'll be spending it San Francisco with my dear friend Leya. Halloween in San Francisco should be great! Now I just need to come up with a last-minute costume. Any ideas???

And that will be that. A short weekend, but I'm sure it will be a fun one.

I'm so excited!

Cheers,

- R

Dying. Seriously. I'm dying to see this movie!

noreply@blogger.com (Roberto) — Thu, 22 Oct 2009 21:06:00 +0000

The Weinstein Co. pushed back the release of Nine to December 18 because they hate me. They did, however, finally release something other than the teaser trailer (which ended up being the actual official trailer) for film adaptation of the movie Nine. I talked all about the upcoming film version and the actual music in a previous post, but I just had to post this video.

To be perfectly honest, it doesn't reveal much of anything new. But it does give a glimpse at the film's opening mixed in with previously shown rehearsal footage. Though I like the instrumentals they use (reminiscent of an orchestral warm-up), I do wish they use the original overture for the opening. It's a unique (as far as I know) overture and a Nine signature because the entire overture is an a capella composition for the women in the cast -- "Overture della Donna."

But enough from me. Enjoy the following video and yearn with me for this movie's release date.

Cheers,

- R

Thanks to Trailer Addict for this video.

You make me feel so young

noreply@blogger.com (Roberto) — Mon, 19 Oct 2009 23:49:00 +0000

I'm back, folks!

Forgive the hiatus. I've been busying fulfilling my lifelong dream of climbing Mount Everest and just got back from... er... wherever Mount Everest is.

Ok. So that's a lie. But I have been out living life.

It seems that I have neglected being young and carefree since leaving student life behind me. Back when I was spry and full of youthful vigor, I would go out and be the life of the party. Now I'm 24. I'm practically decrepit.

I recently told a friend that I am past my prime. 2007-2008 were the years I was at my peak. I was the wittiest and most entertaining person people knew. People liked having me around. I felt rather beloved. But that is all over.

The way I put it... for one brief shining moment I was a grape prime for the picking. I had the potential to become a fine wine. But instead I withered on the vine. I shriveled up and became a raisin. And I hate raisins. Next stop: prune. Raisins become prunes, right?

Lately, however, I've been changing. Yes, I work all the time and have started reviewing again. But I am making having some fun a priority.

My co-workers have become my new group of friends. I've been seeing a lot of one girl in particular. She has reintroduced me to the world of debauchery. For example, one night we drove to West Hollywood for a night of bar hopping. We got to The Abbey (one of my favorite bars in LA) around 11pm or so. Drank and danced a while, but then left to find other bars. We left LA around 2:30am and I got home at around 4am. I slept for 3 hours and then got up to get ready for work. It was insane for me to have such a crazy night when I knew I had to open the next day, but I did it anyway. I was half-asleep and still a bit drunk when I arrived at work, but it was all worth it!

My recent escapades, though less wild (and by less wild I mean that we stayed in Orange County), have been just as fun. My activities have ranged from closing down bars to catching a late flick.

It may sound silly to you, but I had seriously forgotten that life can be fun. I am enjoying my life at the moment. It is becoming a healthy (well, arguably healthy) mix of work/responsibility and fun.

I truly believe that that's what has been missing from my life. It is the reason there have been so many gaps between posts on this blog. I had lost my creative muse and found it increasingly harder to write. But these new friends and experiences have refreshed me. In the words of Romeo, I am "new baptized."

Cheers,

- R

Roger Federer????

noreply@blogger.com (Roberto) — Wed, 23 Sep 2009 06:24:00 +0000

I'm sure we all get physically compared to someone.

Perhaps it's someone you know like a friend or a family member. For example, I've had friends tell me I look like my friend Brandon. Aside from one picture in which we kinda... sort of... slightly resemble each other, I still cannot see the resemblance between us.

Or to a third party (e.g. "You look just like my friend ________!").

Or you could even be compared to a celebrity. The celebrity comparison can really go both ways; it can be a compliment or an insult. If you're lucky, you are told you look like an attractive celebrity. I've been told on multiple occasions that I look like Wilmer Valderrama, specifically as Fez on That 70s Show. I do not consider this comparison a compliment in the least. Being compared to a douchebag playing a stereotype is not flattering.

Yesterday at work, however, I got a new one. I was helping a family of 5 and one by one they began telling me how I look like Roger Federer.

"You look like someone," says the patriarch.

"Ummm.... I do?" I reply.

"I got it! You look like Roger Federer. Yes, that's it. You look like Roger Federer."

"You do!" says Daughter #1. "You totally look like Federer."

"The tennis player?" I ask incredulously.

"Yeah! You look a lot like him," says Daughter #2.

"Well... thank you. I suppose," I say with an awkward smile.

Later that night I told my dad about this alleged resemblance.

"They said I look like Roger Federer. But isn't he Swiss?"

His response: "He is..... but... hmmm... huh..... yeah."

"Yeah what?"

"I guess you do kinda resemble him. I wouldn't say you look just like him, but I could see some similarities."

I looked him up on Google Images and, honestly, I don't see it.

For one thing, my nose is not nearly that big. At least, I hope not. Also, I don't think my eyebrows are that nice. But I suppose this picture bears some slight resemblance to me, particularly when I grow out my hair. We kinda smile the same; our cheeks cause our small eyes to look even smaller.

But women seem to find him very attractive, so I guess I will take the comparison as a big compliment.

And you, dear readers? Have you ever been told you look like someone -- celebrity or otherwise -- and just can't figure how or why?

If so, do tell!

Cheers,

- R

An unwelcome homecoming

noreply@blogger.com (Roberto) — Fri, 04 Sep 2009 19:44:00 +0000

Seeing as I finally got some time off from work, I decided to head over to my parents' house for some much needed alone time. My parents wouldn't be coming home until the weekend, so I had two days all to myself.

After an hour-long drive in the heat that won't seem to go away, I pulled up to that oh so familiar driveway. I bid the remote to open the garage door. I begin to slowly drive in. But I stop. Something is wrong.

There is a bit of a mess. Stuff has been knocked down. I drive in an inch more, but once again come to a sudden stop.

I see a shape on the ground. There is something in front of the door leading into the house. My mind races with ideas as to what the shape is, but I can't quite discern its identity. I have a feeling I know what it is, but I really don't want to be right. I take off my sunglasses to get a better look at the unidentified object. Then my suspicions are confirmed.

It's an animal. It had yet to move, but I was still unsure that it was actually dead. I finally turn off the car, but still don't want to get out of the vehicle. Like I said, the animal could just be sleeping.

I eventually get out of my car. The animal blocking the entrance to my house is... er, was an opossum. A juvenile opossum, to be exact. It looked dead. But what to do? I did what any 24 year old man would do in this situation.

"Mom! There's a dead animal in the garage!"
"What? How do you know?"
"I'm looking at it!"
"Well, how did it get in?"
"How should I know? I don't live here."
"Just pick it up with something and dispose of it."
"Are you insane!? I'm not touching it! What if it isn't really dead? What if it's just... umm... playing 'possum?"
"Throw something at it."
"Ok."

I throw some balled up napkins at the opossum. Nothing.

"It didn't move."
"Then it's dead."
"But what if it's really good at pretending it's dead?"
"Oh just pick it up with a broom or something and get rid of it."
"Can't I just leave it here for you to dispose of it?"
"You are NOT leaving that carcass in my garage! Now man up and dispose of the giant rat."

I hang up the phone and stare at the dead body before me. I must have stood there for at least 10 minutes before actually doing something. Finally, testosterone returns to me and I take action. I grab a broom and prepare to transport the dead animal to the garbage. But first I poke it a few times just to make sure it is really dead.

After several pokes I conclude that the opossum is definitely not going to suddenly rise to its feet and viciously attack me. I take the broom and carefully try to slide it under the body. Unfortunately, it doesn't go as smoothly as I would have liked. I continuously drop the opossum and toss it around. I find myself apologizing incessantly to the dead body.

"So sorry."
"Oops! Sorry!"
"Oh god, I'm sorry."
"Ack! Sorry."

After what seemed like an eternity I manage to dump the body into our garbage. My dark deed was at last complete and I could put it behind me.

I confess that a large part of me was tempted to merely back out of the garage, walk into the house through the front door, and pretend that there was not a rotting corpse in my garage. I could easily have left the body for my parents deal with. I was certainly tempted.

At least now I have an interesting story to tell my co-workers.....

Cheers,

- R

Things I overheard #13

noreply@blogger.com (Roberto) — Tue, 11 Aug 2009 20:11:00 +0000

The following overheard conversation requires no introduction or conclusion. I think it speaks for itself.

Customer: "These shoes are great. I'll take this pair."

Customer's daughter: "Mom, can you buy me these shoes?"

Customer: "No. I've already bought you shoes."

Customer's daughter: "You suck!"

Customer: "Only your daddy."

Me: ......................

In which I borrow a heading style from a fellow blogger

noreply@blogger.com (Roberto) — Tue, 11 Aug 2009 18:51:00 +0000

Because I could not come up with a sufficiently pithy title for this particular post, I decided to take a page from my blogging buddy over at Badass Geek. So thank you, my good man.

The other day I actually locked myself out of the house.

I grabbed my things and made my way out to the car. But wait... where were my keys? Oh shit, I thought to myself. I checked my pockets several times as though the fifth pocket pat would reveal that familiar metallic jingling. But no. I had indeed left my keys inside the house.

As my luck would have it, this was also the one time I closed all the windows before exiting the house. I could not even ask the neighbors to let me go through their backyards so that i could climb in through a window. I called my work and let them know that I was standing on my driveway trying to figure out a way to get to my keys.

There I stood. Cursing the heavens and any name I could think of.

"Shit. Crap. Fuck. Damn. Bitch. Cock. Ass."

I was like a sailor with Tourette's.

The only people with keys where my parents, but they were merrily on their way to a 2-week vacation in Cancun. Figures. "Who else? Who else? " I kept repeating to myself. I vaguely remembered that an aunt and uncle had an extra key.

I called up my uncle. "No. Sorry. Don't have a copy of the key. Try your aunt."

"I'm sorry, honey. I don't have one either. I lent it to your uncle Pepe for some reason and never got it back."

There was no way in hell that I was going to call him. I would either pay an arm and a leg for a locksmith or try to break a window before I would ever call him. Why, you ask? The story surrounding this particular uncle is long and drama-filled.

Let me put it like this.... This uncle of mine and his venomous snake of a wife are the most greedy, egotistical, vindictive people I know. Their daughter is even worse. The girl is most likely to become a sociopath. I despise them. I would never ask them for the slightest bit of help because they would never let me live it down. They would have me be in their debt for the rest of my life. You are probably thinking that I am exaggerating, but I most certainly am not.

Like I said, calling that uncle was not an option.

Eventually it came to me. My neighbor. I think she was given a key in case of emergencies. Luckily, she was home. And she was given a key for emergencies. Turns out that she would be out golfing, but was waiting for a new toilet to arrive. Thank god for that toilet. I used her spare key to retrieve mine and even made it to work on time. Barely, but I made it.

So really this post should be titled thusly (and I'm still borrowing from Badass Geek on this one):

In which a toilet comes to my rescue.

Cheers,

- R

Call me Lemming

noreply@blogger.com (Roberto) — Tue, 04 Aug 2009 23:34:00 +0000

I've succumbed to peer pressure. I just got myself a Blackberry.

It didn't really hit me until I was driving home. My god, what have I just done? I thought to myself. I can no longer judge others when I am now part of the crowd.

But let me explain. I switched to the crackberry out of need rather than desire. My life has been consumed by this job of mine. All I do is work, so I no longer have the time to just sit down at my computer. Moreover, this lack of time has resulted in my missing out on emails from editors. If I want to be a successful freelance journalist, then I need to be constantly connected.

That being said, I concluded that I needed to switch to a smart phone.

Let's just hope this is not the first step on the road to degradation. Pray that you won't find me wearing two polo shirts with the collars popped and sipping on iced tea while texting away on my Blackberry during dinner.

Cheers,

- R

The future

noreply@blogger.com (Roberto) — Fri, 31 Jul 2009 20:42:00 +0000

I haven't yet mentioned this, but I got news from my boss last week. They would like me to stay on as a regular employee. Yes, folks. I now have a permanent job. I can stop worrying that I would soon have to start seeking employment elsewhere. As you can surely imagine, this is a great weight off my shoulders.

So let us raise a glass to my good fortunes!

Also in the future is the arrival of my Boston buddy, Brandon. He was one of my first grad school friends and I am excited to be reunited. He will soon begin an epic road trip from Boston to a new life in LA. He will be finishing up his schooling on the West Coast and then, life allowing, stay on indefinitely.

I feel really guilty though. Another great Boston friend also came to LA to finish up grad school and is still living here. I came back from England, but have not spent a single moment with her. At first there were legitimate reasons for not driving up to visit her. There was that month where I had the neverending flu. Then one thing or another got in the way. And then my fruitless job hunt drove me into a depression that took me away from even my best friend for a very long period of time. I don't think any of these circumstances are my fault, but maybe they are. Life just kept getting in the way. I just feel guilty that I'm in a better place with this friend as opposed to my other good friend. On the plus side, they'll both be in LA and I can make up for lost time with the both of them. I'm sure everything will work itself out.

And now I raise my glass to your good fortunes!

Cheers,

- R

From the twisted mind of Roberto

noreply@blogger.com (Roberto) — Tue, 21 Jul 2009 18:47:00 +0000

It's a fact that I have the strangest and most vivid dreams.

Take last night's show for example......

It featured an opulent mansion that was the site of a fancy dress party. This mansion belonged to my best friend's ex. Emily and Richard Gilmore (of The Gilmore Girls) were my grandparents. I had to fetch a tuxedo from within the mansion, but had to convince the butler that I was actually performing a task for the lady of the house and not just trying to steal the tuxedo. The butler gave me a choice between the Berton (pronounced with a French accent) or the Burberry tuxedo. I chose the Berton. Upon acquiring the tuxedo I was informed that my essay (I apparently had submitted an essay into a writing contest) was chosen for publication. The four judges could only speak French, so we start having a conversation in French. After leaving the French-speaking judges, I enter the party inside the mansion. Within I find my high school French teacher. Also there are some of my Nordstrom co-workers, but I recognize them as classmates. I start having a drink to celebrate my win, but my former teacher informs me that no drinking is allowed at school functions. I apologize (still in French), but she allows me to finish my drink since it's a special occasion. At this point my friend's ex comes home and I follow him up to his room. I help him fold a large wool blanket and put it on his sister's water bed.

Then I wake up.

Someone make sense of this for me. I have no explanation whatsoever. Then again I can never explain any of my dreams.

Like the one where I am flying around in a little rocket ship. My ship is hit by an enemy missile and I crash into the water surrounding San Francisco's Golden Gate Bridge. I then realize that there is a shark in the water. I stand/float perfectly still so that it won't attack me. The shark puts its face right next to mine and I can feel one of its teeth graze my cheek as it wonders whether I'm actually alive. I woke up frightened and the physical feeling of that graze still present on my cheek.

But the most terrifying dream I have ever had was one that bothered me all the next day. I dreamed that my sister was late in coming home. My mom and I go out looking for her. We eventually find her on the driveway of some house, her body lifeless and limbs all askew like a rag doll. We discern that she was raped, murdered, and thrown off the 2nd story balcony of the house we find her at. I could physically feel my body tensing up as my mind registered the shocking image. Then my mother emits a blood-curling scream that is filled with such indescribable pain, disbelief, and rage. I woke up from this dream a sweaty and terrified mess. My poor girlfriend lying in bed next to me was just as scared because I practically threw her off the bed as I violently awoke.

Of course, not all my dreams are nearly this exciting. There was one where I simply stood at a sink and shaved. That's it. Nothing else happened. I just watched myself shaving. I woke up from that one confused and bored out of my mind.

What is the most bizarre/scary/vivid/boring dream you've ever had? I can't possibly be the only person with a crazy imagination.

Share with me, people.

Cheers,

- R

Things I overheard #12

noreply@blogger.com (Roberto) — Wed, 15 Jul 2009 04:29:00 +0000

Was at work when I witnessed some Grade A cattiness. This short-haired blonde woman was checking out Reef flip flops while on her cell phone. She looked and sounded very Orange County. If you don't know what I mean by that, then just imagine the most haughty, egotistical woman you know.... and double it. That is what I mean by a woman that is so Orange County. A very Orange County guy is also haughty and egotistical, but blended with a large dose of douchebaggery. This place and lifestyle goes to people's heads and makes them believe that everything they do and say is oh so important.

That being said, on to the story. Imagine that every word reeks of overblown indignation.

"Oh my god, Lauren. Can you believe Kate didn't invite me to her wedding? Not that I would have gone anyway! But I should have been invited. *scoff* I know I didn't invite her to my wedding either. *sigh* I guess you're right.... Why would she want me at her wedding when I didn't want her at mine? But still! I should have received an invitation. I swear, some people are so petty!"

I was not shocked in the least by this woman's behavior. These are the kind of people that live in Orange County. I'm used to the BS. What I did do was try my best to contain my laughter.

Also, I could not help but be reminded of my own family. With the exception of one, all my aunts are just like this woman. The women my uncles married are the quintessential backstabbing, two-faced, hypocritical "frenemies." At any one time they are sweet talking one sister-in-law while talking shit on another, all while oozing self-righteousness from every pore.

I often get asked why I hate living here so much when it looks like one giant vacation resort with such perfect weather. Yes, it's pretty. Yes, the weather is pleasant. But oh this place, that has such people in it!

Welcome to Orange County.

Cheers,

- R

My raisin and me

noreply@blogger.com (Roberto) — Fri, 10 Jul 2009 23:37:00 +0000

I've been staring at this blank page for the past.... well, I won't admit how long I've been staring at this blank page. Let's just say it's been a while. Damn writer's block!

It's been far too long since my last post, so I will fix this situation by presenting another blast from the past. That's right, folks. "Classic Roberto" is back! It's been a while since the last one, hasn't it? If I don't have the time to write an original post, then I might as well bring out some of my past writings from limbo.

Today's piece is a bit of creative writing I did back in journalism school. We had to eat a raisin and describe the experience. It was supposed to teach us some sort of lesson about writing, but I'm not sure any of us actually learned something. All I know is that I don't care for raisins and here was this man telling me, "Here. Stick this in your mouth.*"

Enjoy!

Cheers,

- R

* Yes, I am very much aware of how filthy this sounds. I love a good double-entendre, don't you?

--------------------

I’ve never felt more self-conscious about eating a raisin. I’ve also never put much thought, or any thought for that matter, into my experience with a raisin. It’s not often someone tells me to eat a raisin and be in the moment. Moment? What moment? Usually I just put them in my mouth and that is the end of it.

Well, actually, I never eat raisins… unless they are covered in chocolate. I find that most foods simply taste better when they are covered in chocolate, or fried. But I digress. Back to the raisin.

It goes in my mouth and I realize how similar the texture is to that of a rubber band. “How do you know what a rubber band tastes like?” you say. To that I reply, “I was curious.”

I chew the tiny dark fruit for what seems like an eternity. It’s amazing how long you can make a single raisin last. Spending so much time chewing a raisin is also a bit awkward. I can feel the raisin’s tart gooey innards slowly seeping out of the wrinkly, rubbery exoskeleton.

The awkwardness continues as that same rubbery and wrinkly texture inexplicably reminds me of “The Golden Girls.” Now it’s just uncomfortable. “Oh God, I’m eating Sophia!”

I can never look at a raisin the same way again. At least, one that isn’t covered in chocolate.

I just had an orgasm

noreply@blogger.com (Roberto) — Mon, 06 Jul 2009 01:45:00 +0000

I just want to say that seeing these promotional shots for Tim Burton's upcoming adaptation of Alice in Wonderland have caused me to spontaneously climax. I am now in need of new pants. That is all.

Cheers,

- R

Manners are so last year

noreply@blogger.com (Roberto) — Sun, 05 Jul 2009 05:14:00 +0000

Why are people so damn rude?

I'm speaking to you, Miss Chews Gum Like A Horse Eating Hay. And you, Miss Never Gets Off Her Cell Phone.

I don't care if people chew gum. It's the people who chew gum like it's their job to ensure we see and hear them chewing it.

"So *smack* can *smack* I *smack* get *smack* this *smack* in *smack* a *smack* 6 *smack* and *smack* 6 1/2 *smack**smack*?"

I think I demonstrate a lot of restraint by not slapping it out of their mouths.

But worse are the people whose phones are permanently attached to their ears. If you are having that important a conversation that you absolutely cannot hang up, then you probably shouldn't be out shopping for shoes. Your attention should be soley on your conversation.

The absolute worst was one woman who apparently was having the most important conversation of her life. She came in talking on her phone. Grabbed the shoes she wanted me to get her. Used her fingers to signal the size she needed and walked off.

I came back with the shoes she so politely requested. She was still on the phone. I had her sit down to try on her selection, but I seemingly picked a bad spot because her reception cut out.

"Aww.. no reception," she commented. She gets up and finds herself a cell phone-friendly seat to continue talking. I bring the shoes to her new spot. She tries on her shoes whilst talking on the phone. Then, still talking and without really looking at me, hands me a shoe box and her credit card. I bring over her purchase and she walks away, still talking.

What. The. Hell?

Is it so bloody difficult to say, "I'll call you back"?

Apparently so.

Dear readers, I hope you treat other people with respect. Courtesy is neither painful nor a waste of time.

Cheers,

- R

Things I overheard #11

noreply@blogger.com (Roberto) — Fri, 26 Jun 2009 22:23:00 +0000

This is a very special edition of Things I Overheard. People, your children are perverted. The days of innocent and pure minds are long gone.

I am sitting at Starbucks, killing some time before my appointment with my hair stylist. There are two elementary school-aged girls sitting behind me; no older than 10, I'd say. One of the girls is asking the other riddles -- "I bark. I am man's best friend. What am I?"

But one of the riddles rocked me to my core.

"What pops easily?"

Being the dirty boy I am, I immediately thought the following: Virginity *chuckle*

Without missing a beat, however, the girl quickly answered:

"A cherry."

The two girls start giggling.

"You didn't let me finish... *giggle*... It's filled with helium."

"Oh. A Balloon." *giggle*

My jaw hit the table. I was in a state of shock. Did I actually just hear a little girl make a dirty joke?

What the hell are parents letting their kids do these days!? What kind of exposure are they getting that their minds would wander to the sexual?

I shudder to think how any child of mine would turn out! My poor, poor imaginary offspring.

Cheers,

- R

Dirty Minds

noreply@blogger.com (Roberto) — Thu, 25 Jun 2009 03:26:00 +0000

"Fill your desire for something long, juicy and flame-grilled with the NEW BK SUPER SEVEN INCHER. Yearn for more after you taste the mind-blowing burger that comes with a single beef patty, topped with American cheese, crispy onions and the A.1. Thick & Hearty Steak Sauce." (Burger King)

I know I have a filthy mind and am usually the one to take things straight to the gutter, but......

Wow. Just wow.

Oh, ok. I admit it. I wish I had come up with this. It's too funny. The possibilities are endless: "So I was downing a 7-incher last night..." "Guess what I had in my mouth the other day..." "Think I could fit the whole thing in my mouth..." "Mmm... *cough* *gag* *cough*"

Hahahaha...

Cheers,

- R

It's been a while

noreply@blogger.com (Roberto) — Mon, 22 Jun 2009 06:11:00 +0000

I have not written a post in quite some time. So let me get you up-to-date....

I work practically every day. On my day off (because I get one a week) I will either sleep/veg out or hang with Mariana. I've also been using my days off to review shows for various papers. I'll be covering several shows for the Orange County Register. The first one is Saturday ("Late Night Catechism" -- should be really fun), to which I will be taking Mariana along. Actually, she'll be accompanying me to all those shows. Yay for press tickets!

And that's my life in a nutshell. Not bloody exciting is it? Ok. Ok. The nights I get to be a theatre critic are pretty cool.

Oh, and one interesting thing has happened. I had lunch with my boss. It wasn't planned. He just saw me waiting in line at Wahoo's and decided to eat there too. I had a magazine with me (usually the latest issue of The New Yorker, but it was the newest Esquire this time), but decided to be social and invite him to join me. He did, and it was not at all awkward. He got to know me on a personal level, which is never a bad thing. I told him about my academic life, my life in London, my career goals, and how I am freelancing.

Though I occasionally can't face him due to my tendency to make stupid mistakes, my boss is truly a nice guy. He expects you to do your job correctly, but is otherwise a rather chill dude.

So that pretty much wraps up the update. Not all that interesting. I've become a very boring man since starting this all-consuming full-time job. At least the money's good.

Hope your life is much more fun than mine. And if it is, think of me slaving away in the shoe department of Nordstrom's. When you're happy and carefree, think of me climbing up and down stairs over and over and over again for 8 hours.

Cheers,

- R

The feline in me

noreply@blogger.com (Roberto) — Mon, 15 Jun 2009 05:01:00 +0000

I've come to the conclusion that I am a cat. At least when it comes to girls.

Something catches a cat's attention. The cat is very interested in said thing. Then the cat becomes bored and moves on. I'm the same way.

A girl catches my eye. I'll flirt. Maybe I'll pursue something. Maybe I'll even enter into a relationship with her. But sooner or later I get bored.

I can't help it. It makes me sound like an ass, but I'm not a bad guy. I'm not a womanizer in any way. I simply have a short attention span. I get bored with younger girls (I realize this time and time again, and yet I never learn). I get bored with purely physical relationships (my mind needs attention too). I get bored when things get "comfortable."

A girl has to be amazing to really keep my interest. I need to be intellectually stimulated and she has to have a sense of humor. I realized, however, that it takes more than just having a great sense of humor. She needs to make me laugh as well. It's exhausting and rather tedious having to be the entertainer all the time.

"So why this confession?" you may be asking yourself.

My friend Leya and I were discussing our current crushes (wow... I haven't used the word "crush" since grade school). I mentioned this girl that has caught my eye. And she warned me: "Remember, Roberto. Younger girls don't keep your interest. You need to be intellectually stimulated."

After her warning I started looking at her in a different light. I immediately started losing interest. I started noticing faults. I realized she doesn't speak much. That's not a good sign.

We'll see if my interest holds.

I wonder if I'll ever find that one girl that will knock me off my feet. It's not that I am dreaming of the "perfect girl." I just feel that it will take the dream girl to make me start believing in love.

So to all of you who aren't like me, I salute you. Perhaps one day I too will know the happiness you feel or have felt.

Cheers,

- R

Take my breath away

noreply@blogger.com (Roberto) — Mon, 08 Jun 2009 20:13:00 +0000

This story started off as a Things I Overheard post, but Fate had other things in mind for me.

I was walking to work when I happened to pass an older couple with a younger man. I naturally assumed him to be their 30 year old son. They were discussing what to have for dinner that night.

"Well, there are plenty of options. We could have Italian, Mexican, French..."

"I don't even know what French food is!"

Me being the elitist foodie that I am (much like Anthony Bourdain reveals in his new book, I too was born elitist), I gasped from the shock of his confession. Not. Know. What. French. Food. Is?

Unfortunately, I also happened to be chewing gum at this point. So when I dramatically gasped I also sucked in my wad of spearmint gum. I was now literally gasping for air.

They kept walking. I was choking.

So this is how I'm going to go, I thought to myself while trying to hack up my minty adversary.

I eventually managed to dislodge the gum from my throat. I walked into work a little sweaty, a little out of breath, and happy to be alive.

The moral of the story: Being snob can be all fun and games until someone starts choking.

Cheers,

- R

Decisions, decisions.

noreply@blogger.com (Roberto) — Thu, 04 Jun 2009 03:01:00 +0000

Anyone who knows me will tell you that I am one of the (if not the) most indecisive people they know.

Hamlet had nothing on me. He said "to be or not to be" and then moved on. If that was my soliloquy, it would have gone a little something like this....

"To be or not to be? Hmmm... to be? Not to be? Umm... To be. Yeah. To be. No. Not to be. Or to be? To be or not to be? To be or not to be? Oh, damn it all! Who's got a coin?"

It all stems from my overwhelming fear of failure. I so hate to make the wrong decision. Even when it comes to trivial things like wearing a blue shirt or a grey shirt. Which argyle socks to wear that day. I always pack for a trip the night before, but I spend the day (or occasionally days) making a list of every last thing I will pack. It doesn't matter if I am just packing a day bag. I will go over every possibility until I am adequately satisfied (because I am never completely satisfied) with my decisions.

And don't even get me started on my issues with ordering food or drinks. I have been known to just order what someone else orders, even if it's the complete stranger waiting in line in front of me. I always order last because I am never 100% sure of what I want. And when I receive my food or beverage I realize what I really wanted to order was something else. Or wish I had ordered what my companion ordered.

My best friend doesn't let me get away with it. "I'll have the same," I tell the waiter. "No, he won't," she'll quickly add. She will then make me order something different or order for me. I always keep my fingers crossed that she will order for me because a) she has excellent taste, and b) she takes the pressure off of me.

Perhaps one day I'll overcome this damn annoyance. Old dogs can learn new tricks, right? Right?

Cheers,

- R

Things I overheard #10

noreply@blogger.com (Roberto) — Fri, 29 May 2009 22:32:00 +0000

This one is pretty nuts.

Directly in front of me is a pair going over a business contract.

It is a younger man (30s, I'd say) and an older man (50+). I can't make out if there is a family resemblance between them without being caught, but they definitely know each other. Oh wait, he just called him "Dad."

The son seems to know (or at least thinks he understands) the world of business and business laws, but the dad is not completely certain of it all. The son is totally frustrated with his dad's naivete and lack of knowledge. He clearly had asked his son for help in working out a contract between him and some partner/associate/what-have-you. Big mistake. The son has no patience.

"These legal terms are business 101! Why do you find them so hard to understand!?"

He just whipped out his laptop to bring up an online legal dictionary.

Though awkward because they are close enough for me to steal their drink, it is too funny. For two reasons, and I'll explain.

Reason #1-- The cocky/douchebag-y son totally reminds me of my cocky/douchebag-y uncle who also fancies himself an ace negotiator/businessman. His impatience with his father is like listening to my uncle talking business with my grandparents.

And, I admit, it reminds me of past arguments I've had with my mother ("Just listen, Mom. I don't know how else to explain it!").

Reason #2-- I've previously discussed how people don't seem to care what they share in public spaces. Funnier still is people who have no qualms whatsoever about making loud exclamations or shameless statements when people are right next to them. This pair is one example.

Another is a pair of girls that were standing in front of me on the escalator at work. "Why deny who I am? I'm a bitch. I like to get drunk. I like to fuck random guys. So why the fuck should I pretend otherwise? "

At this point the other girl turns around to face me and observe my reaction to her friend's statements. I just look ahead. The shameless friend then comments, "See. Like right now. I don't care that he just heard what I said. It's all true, so why be embarrassed by it?"

So you see, eavesdropping is not always necessary. Sometimes you get to listen to/observe juicy stuff without any work on your part. It can happen right in front of you.

Cheers,

- R

Tagged! 50 random questions

noreply@blogger.com (Roberto) — Wed, 27 May 2009 04:14:00 +0000

JB tagged me in her evil game of survey tag. http://blackthoughts-jb.blogspot.com/2009/05/tagged-50-random-questions.html (for some reason Blogger isn't linking properly, so am just posting the full link here).

I always sucked at tag.

So here are my answers to 50 random question.....

1. Where were you 3 hours ago?
Work

2. Who are you in love with?
Natalie Portman. She doesn't know it yet, but she is having my babies. Oh, and Shakira. She is also having my babies.

3. Have you ever eaten a crayon?
Nope, but I did try a bit of play-doh.

4. Is there anything pink within 10 feet of you?
Nope.

5. When is the last time you went to the mall?
Today. I work at a mall.

6. Are you wearing socks right now?
No.

7. Do you have a car worth over $2,000?
Yes.

8. When was the last time you drove out of town?
Today.

9. Have you been to the movies in the last 5 days?
Indeed I have. To see X-Men Origins: Wolverine with Ricardo.

10. Are you hot?
I'd say devastatingly good looking.

11. What was the last thing you had to drink?
Tea.

12. What are you wearing right now?
Shorts, shirt, and a hoodie.

13. Do you wash your car or let the car wash do it?
The rain does it for me. If I'm not feeling lazy, then I take it to the car wash.

14. Last food that you ate?
A croissant.

15. Where were you last week at this time?
Work.

16. Have you bought any clothing items in the last week?
A tie.

17. When is the last time you ran?
Hahaha.... me? Run?

18. What's the last sporting event you watched?
Bits and pieces of the last Lakers game.

19. What is your favorite animal?
Hippo.

20. Your dream vacation?
Paris, France with Mariana.

21. Last person's house you were in?
Mariana's.

22. Worst injury you've ever had?
Umm... I guess when I sprained my elbow. Or perhaps when I ran into a pole and broke my front tooth in half.

23. Have you been in love?
Nah.

24. Do you miss anyone right now?
Of course!

25. Last play you saw?
Disney's Beauty and the Beast.

26. What is your secret weapon to lure in the opposite sex?
My wit and charm. ;p

27. What are your plans for tonight?
Sleep.

28. Who is the last person you sent a MySpace message or comment?
No clue. Been quite a while.

29. Next trip you are going to take?
Who knows.... but I hope it's sooner rather than later.

30. Ever go to camp?
Nope.

31. Were you an honor roll student in school?
Oui.

32. What do you want to know about the future?
When I'll have my dream job.

33. Are you wearing any perfume or cologne?
Versace Man.

34. Are you due sometime this year for a doctor's visit?
Umm.. not that I know of.

35. Where is your best friend?
At her apartment.

36. How is your best friend?
She;'s my favorite of all people.

37. Do you have a tan?
Naturally tan, baby.

38. What are you listening to right now?
"The Way You Look Tonight."

39. Do you collect anything?
It used to be state quarters. But I finished that collection.

40. Who is the biggest gossiper you know?
My family.

41. Last time you got stopped by a cop or pulled over?
Never. Knock on wood.

42. Have you ever drank your soda from a straw?
Of course! Always.

43. What does your last text message say?
"Love you too!"

44. Do you like hot sauce?
Nope.

45. Last time you took a shower?
This morning.

46. Do you need to do laundry?
In due time.

47. What is your heritage?
Mexicano.

48. Are you someone's best friend?
I'm thrilled to say that I am also my best friend's best friend.

49. Are you rich?
In my mind.

50. What were you doing at 12am last night?
Watching tv.

Tag. You're it!

* Ambika
* Brandon
* Ron

Tag rules for 50 Random Questions:

1. Name & link back to the person who tagged you

2. Answer & post the 50 random questions on your blog

3. Tag some bloggers to play along by naming them at the end of your post & by leaving them a comment on their blog letting them know that they have been selected to answer 50 Random Question

(I picked 3 people, but feel free to pick however many people you want)

Just keep it cool, boy

noreply@blogger.com (Roberto) — Wed, 27 May 2009 03:38:00 +0000

I mentioned in my last post that I went out for a drinks with a co-worker. In said post I also mentioned that he told me his philosophy for work, and that I would give it a shot.

The way he approaches this job and, indeed, any job he has ever held is to just relax. He is simply happy to have a job. He knows that there are so many harder jobs out there. With selling women's shoes, he knows that he has it easy. All we do is talk to women all day and bring out some light boxes. What could be easier than that? He doesn't obsess over his sales figures or let the job stress him out. He'll do his best to sell the woman a shoe, but he doesn't fret if it doesn't happen. He won't push or over promote a shoe because it sometimes turns off the customer. He just does his job in a relaxed and cheerful manner, singing random songs throughout the stock room.

Well, dear readers, it does work.

I've been approaching the job in the same manner for two days now. I have not been coming back comatose or in great pain. The amount of customers I have to deal with or amount of work has not lessened in the least, but it no longer stresses me out. In fact, I've felt like the past two days of work were great days. Before I would have been drenched in sweat and stressed to point of insomnia. But I've been good now. Although I have to occasionally remind myself to just be chill because my inner perfectionist wants me to be the best salesman.

This way of working is so simple. Why did I not try it before?

If you are not in your dream job or stress out like me, then I highly recommend you try this approach as soon as possible.

Cheers,

- R