Thanks to Colin and Angela, I arrived to the house safely, well-fed and on time. It's in a peaceful neighborhood and the property is fenced by a simple wooden gate surrounded with jasmine and flowering trees. The yards are lush, sprinkled with various statues of eastern influence. Inside, rooms are colorful, well-furnished and spacious. The most important part - the kitchen – looks workable with cheerful yellow walls and cabinets. I'm a little unsure of the space at first, but as the days go by and I get to know the place more intimately, it really begins to feel like home.

!!!

The first thing I do, after hugging Florencia, making introductions and dragging luggage to my room is meet with Brynn (Producer), Cristin (Location Scout, Unit Production Manager) and Katherine (Chef Assistant). Katherine teaches at Bauman College ("holistic nutrition and culinary arts") and is going to volunteer in the kitchen on her days off. In addition to being super cool and chill, Katherine is also ridiculously witty. Brynn and Cristin give us an overview of the production and scheduling, and then gently push us out of the nest to find our bearings.

As Katherine and I start menu planning, the rest of the cast and crew start arriving for the meet and greet party. So, we take a break to gather in a circle outside where Brynn welcomes us and makes us go around and say 1) our name and 2) our favorite vegan food. Notable foods include fake chicken (originally stated by Brynn, then echoed by many others), a complicated casserole dish (Kaliisa, Script Supervisor), beer (Jason M., Director of Photography) and way less notable, me, no favorite food. Everyone seems really nice and excited to be a part of this project. Cristin asks us to treat the house with respect and not be the typical trashy film crew. We concur.

Afterward, Katherine and I finish hammering out the menu for the next day or so, people gradually filter out of the house, and I rope Carol (Grip Assistant) into helping with a grocery run tomorrow. All in all, not a bad first day (well, pre-day).

Thanks to Dana Hunter of En Tequila Es Verdad and He Who Shall Not Be Named for accepting my nomination.

Even though all the glory should be going to A Free Man.

"Carol Sinclair, a Halifax actress and playwright, found herself in that position, and now, what started as a routine telephone standoff with an Internet provider, leaves her facing criminal charges." (link)

Holding a repairman hostage? Well the facts are still to be decided in court but I'm sure many of us have felt the urge when a clueless technician arrives and fails to fix the problem. Most of us would have taken our computers to the nearest computer store to get checked out (it's not ALWAYS the ISP's fault). Perhaps she got a virus, who knows but clearly the situation got out of control. Technology can do that to you. Frustrate you and leave you feeling helpless with no hope of a resolution. Next time you encounter such a problem, don't make a knee jerk reaction. Take a deep breath, think it through, and then consult your local nerd/geek/tech friend.

à Carol

Aqueles olhos...
Ah... aqueles olhos...
Aqueles olhos que na noite penetraram
Que fizeram de mim reles poeta abandonado
Aqueles olhos "de poema transladados"
Aqueles olhos
Em meu peito enamorados
Por entre a bruma aqueles olhos feneceram
E de meu canto mais uma estrofe mereceram
Aqueles olhos que outro dono encontraram
São os mesmos olhos - em outro tempo, apaixonaram
Mas ela é toda
Toda olhos, seios, lábios
Toda pêlos, sonhos, medos
E só tê-la tornou-se o meu desejo
Mas o seu rosto, os seus olhos e o seu corpo
Que me encantaram e certo dia me envolveram
São apenas simples traços que morreram
E em meu quarto em sonhos tristes se perderam.

Laguna, 16/01/2001

Todd Haynes directs. A Barbie doll with wrinkles and a dye job plays Hillary. Ken plays John Edwards and Baby Alive is his illegitimate love child. Michelle Obama is played by Black Barbie. Barack is played by a knock-off Black doll the director bought from the Dollar Store on 125th Street. Teddy Ruxpin, with a taped speech by David Duke inside him, plays Bill Clinton.

Spout

Todd Haynes (Freelance/Writer/Director), (Zip code: 97211) $250 to OBAMA FOR AMERICA on 02/19/08

Todd Haynes (Self employed/Writer/Director), (Zip code: 97211) $300 to OBAMA FOR AMERICA on 04/02/08

PORTLAND, OR Political Contributions by Individuals

“It hurts, doesn’t it? That is no ordinary bear trap, as you might guess.” said Adam, whose words seemed to calm Don slightly. “That is what we call tsukumogami. On its one hundredth anniversary of its creation, an object may become invested with a spirit. They are the lowest of our kind, and I am a collector of them.”

“Can you get it off of me?” begged Don, his face contorted with agony.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t control the tsukumogami any more than you can control the sun. They are nearly animals, and I have never done well with animals.” Adam’s voice bore a thick coat of sarcasm. While he could never get a dog to fetch a stick, he could likely get a tsukumogami to write a novel while swimming the English Channel. Don couldn’t recognize the weakly veiled lie. His focus was entirely on the scraping sound that a sharp metal tooth was making against his shin bone.

Carol, wearing a form fitting shirt dress, stood far away. She usually delighted in the way Adam treated humans, but she never witnessed him torture someone for so long. For a moment, she wondered what it would have been like to be born human. Unlike many yokai, she was born as a yokai. She never knew what it was like to be a normal person, but thought that it would be terrible beyond imagining.

With a final snap, Don’s cries subsided. The tsukumogami seemed happy with its day’s work. Adam stroked it lovingly, pouring praise onto it like a gardener tending his plants. Carol thought that he seemed very kind and loving, and found herself hoping that there would still be room for her in Adam’s life after he returned to his wife.

***

Kappa sat on the bed, leaning back on the headboard. He looked at Grant and Kyoko and thought that they looked like fish waiting for a hook. He cleared his voice and let himself float backwards through his memories. He found himself remembering a day long ago, when he was a teenager.

“I was young and dumb, really,” he said to his audience. “I had deluded myself into thinking that I was one of the most handsome guys in school. Girls would ask me out on a date, and I thought it was because I was really something. They’d ask me to go to the movies, or shopping, or out to eat. I worked part time at a Chinese restaurant; the owner paid me under the table, allowing me to make the most of my minimal wage. I’d lavish gifts on almost any girl that liked me. I thought that I was young and successful. I had almost anything a young guy could want.

“Then, I started wondering why I never kissed any of the girls. All these dates, but never a kiss. I never even held hands. I found out the truth in the usual way; someone took pity on me and told me what had been happening, and what the girls called me behind my back. The friend who told me was a girl, Renee. She was bookish and quiet, but nice also. We had a few classes together, and talked a lot.

“’They call you free ride,’ she said, ‘because you take girls out and never try anything. It’s like a game to them. They want to see how much they can get out of you before you try anything.’ I was baffled about what she said. I didn’t want to believe it, so I just dismissed it as jealousy. However, it ate at me all day long and deep into the night. The next time I went on a date, I tried holding hands with the girl I was with and she shrank away. We broke up soon after. It started becoming a pattern, and eventually, I found that the truth I was told was indeed true.

“I wound up dating with Renee, and it was the greatest thing to ever happen to me. We dated through the rest of our first year in high school and spent the summer going on outings. I tried so hard to convince her to go to the beach. When we did,” Kappa paused, his eyes filling with tears. “When we did, we swam in the ocean. And…”

“What happened?” asked Kyoko, unwilling to let Kappa keep his secret. He had started this game, and she wanted to see its conclusion.

“A riptide pulled her out to sea. I tried to save her; I was a much stronger swimmer than she was. When she sank into the sea, I went under the water to find her. I must have swam too deep, because I started losing my breath. I don’t remember how the change happened, but I remember waking up on the beach early the next morning. I had a shell on my back and a bowl of water on my head.” Kappa let the sentence hang in the air, rolling off of the bed and onto his webbed feet. His brow furrowed with concentration, Kappa’s shape slowly changed to that of a man, fully clothed, wearing the same Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles shirt he always wore.

“That’s my story, and that is my shame.” he said with weighty drama. He left the room, leaving Kyoko and Grant in a stupor. They sat, gape mouthed, until the door slammed shut and Kappa disappeared into the night.

“Do you think we should go after him?” asked Grant.

“He’ll be back soon enough. Probably just needs some space. Guys can be like that sometimes. You should know that.” answered Kyoko. “So, do you really think I’m beautiful?” she asked, smiling grotesquely. Grant returned her smile with his own tusk-framed grin.

“I do.” he said, meekly. Looking into Kyoko’s dark, almond shaped eyes, Grant felt a peaceful sensation well up inside him. He felt at home, which was not something he was accustomed to anymore. Kyoko extended a hand clad in soft white leather and wrapped her fingers around Grant’s massive ring finger, and noticed a deformed silver band.

“Why do you still wear that ring?” she asked.

“Because it represents a promise I made.”

“The promises a man makes die when the man dies. You are an oni now, Grant. You really should let go of your old life.”

“I all ready gave up too much.” said Grant with a voice like a thunderbolt shattering a tree. Kyoko reeled backwards, afraid of the rage that could overtake Grant at any moment. She stopped her retreat when she saw that Grant wasn’t lashing out at her. She decided that she needed to be less direct if she wanted to earn the red giant’s trust, and she needed that trust badly.

Confira a galeria com fotos e vídeos da Carol Castro

“What do you have there, boy?” asked the deep voice of a man dressed in a well tailored black suit. Adam adjusted the flamboyant purple paisley cravat around his neck as he studied Don, who tried fruitlessly to hide the mask behind his back. Don lied poorly, his ears turning a deep red as he told Adam that he had nothing. Don’s eyes followed Adam’s hand as it slid to a patent leather holster that draped across his hip. Adam rested his hand threateningly on an antique pearl handled revolver. “Do you know what I love?” he asked.

Don tried to answer, thinking that an answer would save him. He hoped that guessing correctly would keep the expensive looking gun holstered. “Guns?” answered Don hopefully.

“No, but I am fond of them. What I love is the tongue of a liar. A liar’s tongue is sweeter than the tongue of someone that always tells the truth. It is a strange sweet, yet savory flavor.”

“Here! It’s a mask! Don’t hurt me mister, please! Don’t eat my tongue!” screamed Don as he tossed the unburned mask at Adam’s feet. Still screaming and pleading, Don ran away. Adam chuckled, considering shooting the unfortunate youth.

“You’re just going to let him go? That’s surprisingly beneficent of you.” said Carol, who was hidden from sight behind a tree.

“I’m not heartless. I don’t kill every human that crosses my path.” responded Adam. “Besides, a well told tale will make me just as powerful as eating him alive.”

“This is a side of you I have never seen.” responded Carol. She looked at the mask on the ground. “Hm. It doesn’t seem magical. I guess this just pushed him to realize his destiny sooner.” Adam studied the mask, then crumpled it into his pocket. As he and Carol walked away, a howl of pain echoed through the woods. Far away, Don found that bear traps can trap more than just bears.

****

“So, what’s your name?” asked Kappa, wishing he had a more poignant inquiry.

“I’m Kyoko.” replied the woman, still standing in the doorway.

“Are you from Japan?” asked Grant.

“I’m from Des Moines, but my parents came from Hokkaido.” replied Kyoko, feeling as though she was being grilled without any pressure. She was waiting for one of them to ask ‘who sent you?’, but they only seemed interested in getting to know her better. She always thought that there were two kinds of men: those that would underestimate her, and those that would want to get close to her. She concluded that Grant and Kappa were the kind that wanted to get closer to her.

“How did you become yokai?” the question flew from Kappa’s mouth and caught Kyoko in the gut. For a moment, she forgot that she was talking to other yokai, and the question caught her off guard. It was like asking a woman what she looked like naked. It wasn’t something you ask, it was something that you’d find out as nature intended. Flushed, Kyoko struggled to answer.

“You still haven’t answered me.” said Grant to Kappa, “I asked you the same thing before this trip. Why don’t you tell your story, then Kyoko can tell hers.” Kappa looked disgusted as he shook his head.

“You really aren’t being helpful, Grant.” retaliated Kappa, “She’s the one we can’t trust.”

“I understand if you don’t trust me. My sudden appearance must seem suspicious. I think that if we each shared our story that some of the mistrust will disappear. I will start; my story is brief, really. I wasn’t one of the pretty girls, and I wasn’t one of the slutty girls. I just existed; I warranted very little attention from the teachers. I was an adequate student and I stayed out of trouble. One day, a couple of boys were harassing me.” A smile formed inside of Kyoko’s heart. She looked at Kappa and Grant and was amazed at their rapt attention as she recounted the story she made up long ago. There were kernels of truth hidden in the story she was telling, but there were also lies which Kyoko was starting to believe from having told them so often.

“They wanted to have their way with me, and I refused. The little fat one pulled a knife on me and threatened to cut me if I didn’t do what he said.” Kyoko felt tears welling up in her eyes on cue.

“You don’t have to continue. I think we understand.” said Grant, moved by the artificial display of emotions. Kappa sat in stolid silence. He wanted to be moved by her story, but he couldn’t help but feel like there was something wrong. She is far too forth coming with this story and those tears. He considered her facial expressions, distorted by her slit mouth. He couldn’t tell if she was smiling or frowning, nor could he read any emotion in her eyes. Maybe she has distanced herself so much from the assault that she no longer has emotions about it. Is that even possible? Kappa found himself willing to trust Kyoko, at least a little.

“My story is hard for me to tell,” started Grant, “because I’ve only just begun to understand it. It is a puzzle inside of my head, and every time I come near completing it, someone throws more pieces in front of me. I know that I become destructive when the mood takes me. Sometimes it is anger, other times it is when I feel ashamed. I think I started down this path when I wasn’t able to show my fiancée my emotions. We had been together for years, and all of those years, I hid so much from her. I couldn’t bear telling her how I felt. I pushed all of the emotions away, until the day that I started wearing that damned mask. I made the lock, and the mask was the key. It started a transformation that is still happening.”

“Are you hoping to stop it?” asked Kyoko.

“I’m just following where I’m being led. I’ve felt myself being pulled North. I think there is something I need.”

“It is your club.” said Kyoko. Kappa looked like he had been slapped in the face; he hadn’t even thought that Grant was looking for his club. Every Oni had one; a thick club whose head was coated in metal and adorned with spikes. He found himself remembering the Oni that guarded the way into the Other World, the world of spirits. His club was taller than a man and thicker than a cow.

“The club will make you stronger. It is a natural extension of your spirit. They say that an oni with his club is indestructible. I’ve never seen anyone mad enough to test that folklore.” said Kappa, trying to redeem himself. “I never considered it before, but it makes sense.” Grant listened to Kappa, and felt some comfort knowing that there was a reason he was traveling aside from being a fugitive. An unpleasant thought flashed through his mind. If the club truly makes me indestructible, what will happen when the cops find me?“I guess that means it’s my turn.” said Kappa woefully.

While Carol keeps mum about it even today, she has noted to his biographer that she wished he had wanted to turn 40 rather than 25. McCain's divorce papers were delivered to Cindy's (his current wife's) house; he cohabitted with Carol during the first 9 months of his affair with Cindy, according to the Jedreport blog account.

These indescretions were almost 30 years old. McCain raised it,l however as his biggest moral failure on the Warren morality debate, but only danced around it as the failure of the marriage, and gave no details. CNN revived the issue about his affair in the McCain Revealed story aired on August 20, 2008. In that report, they noted that he had a secret and he had begun to cheat by 1977, when he moved to DC. He developed the political aspirations while he was dating this wealthy heiress. He even lied to his new lady about his age.

McCain admits "responsibility" but unlike Obama, shows no evidence of having done a moment of soul searching nor does he appear to have learned from his mistake. His recent cheating on the zone of silence is a minor incident, compared to how he treated Carol, but if we give him the reigns of our country, we can expect similar fealty to what he showed to Carol and to pastor Warren.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LOVE!

If I'm not wrong (and I'm usually not. Today I identified a piece of bread. Britta: "It's bread!!" Carol: "Yes...yes it is.") today is tomorrow in Korea, so HAPPY BIRTHDAY KIBUM SSHI!!!

Things about Kibum that I like:

1. His "die smile!" Full House - Kibum *1:22 concept? Sexshi, 3:54 Die smile!!
2. Able to cry on demand!
3. Gets dressed super fast. Haha. Super. Because it's Super Junior. It's a pun XD

Yay three things :D ALL HAIL KIBUM!

Also, I have Eunhyuk on my keychain. And Carol has Jaejoong.

[gallery]

And she gave me this pig pillow for a present. :D BASK IN ITS GLORY!! And because neither of us had the 2nd album, YAY! NOW WE DO 'CAUSE WE ARE :D.

Yes we are =D