The Cow & Suckas // Death of a Gentleman

Last night I had the pleasure of joining my favorite Magic Trick and his boys at a familiar water hole. Now, I may hate on the Cow for its hit-or-miss crowd and its erratic musical selections (from Def Leppard to Elvis Crespo to Lil Wayne) but when it comes down to it... I always have a good time there. That's the point, isn't it?

Lately, I have kept my distance from the Cow. I was slowly getting tired of the same slim pickings that I usually encounter there (not that I go to the Cow in the hopes of finding my Prince Charming). But last night I was pleasantly surprised by a young Latin gentleman who had the ability to lead. Yes, ladies... a gentleman. Not some random sucka who sidles up next to you, gyrating off beat saying, "You're so hot! You're so hot!" while stepping on your new shoes and spilling his AMF all over your arm. Not some drunk ass Jabbawockee wannabe grabbing onto your hip trying to make babies on the dancefloor then calling you a stuck up bitch when you turn around and say, "Um, no thanks."

I say, he was gentleman.

Not only did this guy take me by the hand and pull me towards him to whisper, "Would you like to dance with me?" in my ear, homeboy maintained a respectable distance by busting out Salsa twirls and leading me around the dancefloor. This is what dancing with a partner is supposed to be like! When I finally gave him the greenlight for a little contact, he did not smell like sweat, hard liquor, or cigarettes. And the best part is, he let me go at the end of the song. He let me shimmy and shake back over to my company and left it at that. He didn't follow me around like a stalker or whip out his cellphone with the false hope that one dance could turn into romance. At the end of the night (which is now 1:30am at the Cow, wtf?!) I ran into him and we said, "Goodnight, thank you for the dance" with a handshake and a smile. Game recognized game.

As I was saying good-bye, however, I also ran into a dude who I had been dancing with earlier in the night. He stood off to the side, watched the gentleman and I chat and felt it appropriate to declare, "That guy's whack, he ain't got nothin' on me" in a brazen attempt to get my attention. But, he failed. No pie for you, sucka.

So, for you fellas out there who are secretly reading this (I know who you are!), here's a few tips on shedding your sucka status. Now, I don't claim to be a know-it-all in playing the game, but I do understand simple rules of engagement. The only way to win is to be the best player in the field, right?

1) Act like a gentleman at all times. As related in my story above, it is impressive and quite refreshing for women who encounter suckas on a daily basis to meet a man with manners and class.

2) Drop the defeatist attitude. I once had a conversation with a sucka who did nothing but whine about his life. Instead of accepting responsibility for his state of discontent, he proceeded to air a laundry list of names, dates, and places on which he placed blame. His vernacular consisted mainly of, "I can't" or "I don't know" or "It's not my fault." After 45 minutes of complete negativity, I summed up all the tact I could manage and said to him, "Grow a pair. Stop complaining, start doing." No real lady is going to want a man who can't do for himself first.

3) Be cool. And I'm not talking about dressing like Kanye or dancing like Chris Brown. Check your ego at the door. If you don't know how to handle your liquor, stick to Shirley Temples and Rob Roys. Watch your choice of words in front of the ladies. And for fuck's sake, keep the machismo to a minimum. There is nothing more unattractive than a sucka who needs to puff his chest and blow steam to prove that he is a man. Handle yourself appropriately, like my boy Josh once told me, "Never lose your sexy."

---

Portrait of a Gentleman:

"If you don't have enemies, you don't have character."
Paul Newman

01.26.1925 - 09.26.2008

Student First. Performer Second.

"As with any art form, there is so much training one must do before they should EVER even consider being an ambassador of that art form."

-Micaya

Micaya is an old dance instructor of mine from Dance Mission Theater in San Francisco. She taught me that one can NEVER be too old to dance, to always bend my knees, to NEVER act like a diva ("Leave your ego at the door and learn"), and that "the beat is God." I take her words to heart as I continue my journey to the dream.

I also watch these videos to remind myself that I have to be disciplined in my study so that I don't end up looking like these girls....














You know how some people tell you not to touch a knife or a gun until you fully comprehend the power that it holds? I shall not get up on stage until I've got enough power, confidence, and bravada to work it like a boss.

God bless!

Barak Obama // Vent.

"And they can even elect a black president, but he's useless
Because he doesn't control the economy stupid."
-Immortal Technique

-----

Let me get this straight.

I gave my money to you so that I wouldn't lose it. I paid you "x" amount of money every month for insurance, just in case something bad happened to me. All of a sudden, you can't seem to find the money I gave you. In fact, you can't find a lot of people's money. When I ask you how such a thing could possibly happen, you don't have an answer and even if you did, it would be a lie. Instead of taking responsibility for your actions, you declare yourself bankrupt claiming that you don't have the resources to payback the money for which you were liable.

Someone's knocking on my door again, one of your minions trying to serve me another eviction notice. Now you're trying to take my house because I don't have the money to pay off my mortgage. I try to think positively and count my blessings: at least I still have a job. But for how long? You've been laying off thousands of people in the past few months. What makes me think that I am not threatened too?

You tell me, "Why don't you just go back to school?" You tell me this knowing full well that I cannot afford to pay for tuition and books. Even if I could afford to go to school, you would make sure that I got no attention, no focus, no progress, only a $80,000 debt that I won't be able to pay off because you wouldn't be able to offer me a job after I graduated anyway!

So I'm sitting here with no money in the present, no money earned from the past, and no money waiting for me in the future. I have no home, no job, no education. And then I read in the paper that President Bush wants to give you $700 Billion for your troubles.

FUCK YOU.

Message From the A.N.S.W.E.R Coalition

Demand that the Bailout Legislation Be Rejected

"We are witnessing a bankers' coup d’etat. In the name of saving the economy from a crisis created by their own greed and immense profits, Bush and the biggest bankers have taken a country and a people hostage.

“Give us your money and tear up what’s left of your Constitution or we will sink your economy,” is the message from Wall Street and the Bush Administration. “Give us the power and money we demand or you will be left jobless from a new economic depression."

Under the pretext of the banking crisis, the Bush Administration is changing the way this country operates. This is not simply taking trillions of dollars from the people and giving it to the richest bankers to do with as they see fit.

Congress is poised to vote to give the Executive Branch of government, and specifically the White House’s political appointees in the Treasury Department, the absolute right to take our money and give it to domestic and foreign banks and corporations without any oversight of elected officials, from the courts, or from the people.

The new legislation states: “Decisions by the Secretary [of the Treasury] pursuant to the authority of this Act are non-reviewable and committed to agency discretion, and may not be reviewed by any court of law or any administrative agency.” The Legislation allows the Treasury Department to appoint the same bankers who created the crisis to administer and dictate the use of trillions of our tax dollars.

We will not stand by and let the Bush Administration formalize its vision of a “government of, by and for the richest bankers."

The new system institutionalizes theft on a grand scale. Lehman Brothers bankers will receive $2.5 billion in bonuses after their company went bankrupt last week, but the new dictatorial authority under the White House and Treasury Department has ruled out any relief for the millions of working families who are being foreclosed.

We live in a $15 trillion annual economy. Instead of taking our tax dollars and giving it to the already rich and powerful, these funds should be used provide to decent paying jobs, affordable housing, health care and a good education for our children. There is another way!

Now is the time to hear the voice of the people. A spineless Congress authorized Bush’s illegal war in Iraq and rubber-stamped the Patriot Act. Now they are being herded like sheep again to give the White House and Wall Street dictatorial control over the people’s money."

Click Here to Send a Letter to Congress

Dita Von Tesse for Agent Provocateur

I love how she made the performance into a little vignette. Slash, I've seen the outfits that Agent Provaceteur sells and holy shit. What I would give to dance in one of those outfits.... Not really practical for a pole dance, but hey a dancer doesn't have to twirl the whole time does she? Burlesque strip teases look like hella fun.

Check out the "Be Inspired" section of the site!

The Cost of New York City // Field Study

A single ride to Lower Manhattan on the MTA: $2

Seeing Ground Zero on September 11, 2008, sending out a prayer at St. Patrick's Cathedral, and getting a free Jazz show at City Hall Square: Priceless.

One hour bike ride through Central Park for two: $20.

Riding through Central Park in the rain: Priceless.

Late night cab ride from Brooklyn to Jamaica then ANOTHER cab ride from Jamaica to Great Neck: $70

Getting a private dance lesson from a self proclaimed "hoodrat" from Barbados: Priceless.

Admission for one student to the Museum of Sex: $8.25

Seeing a turtle masturbate with a staircase: Priceless.

One paperback copy of The 48 Laws of Power by Robert Greene: $18

Having 5 hours of quiet on the flight home to just read: Priceless.

Missing 6 days of paid work: $692.16

Spending 10 days in New York City with my best friend: Priceless.



eL <3 OG beb forever.

---
Sin City Cabaret & Restaurant.
09.18.08

Researching pole technique, possible outfits, and the vibe of a true Gentleman's Club.

While it was a hands-on experience, I was surprised that the security guards weren't really doing shit. Up in the VIP room my girl was able to snatch a fistful of ones that were flying in the air. If I was dancing in the VIP room I would get a freakin' bodyguard or something. That way someone's watching out for me and my money at all times.

As demeaning or immoral as the whole occupation sounds, I think that some of the dancers really find their job fulfilling. To put it bluntly, some of us females are just freaky like that. At one point I was watching someone get a lap dance near my table. I immediately made eye contact with the guy and, without taking his eyes off me, he spanked the dancer's ass on both cheeks! I'm talking bare assed discpline. It was the hottest thing I had ever seen.

There was a good population of females in attendance that night too. On the way to our table, I was knocked over by a group of huge black women trying to get to the stage so that they could tip their favorite dancer. Speaking of the dancers...

The dancers were just how I like them - round, meaty, and classy. (With the exception of those dancers who opted to wear nipple tassels. They looked gaudy.) My favorite dancer wore a purple leotard that was ripped up in strategic places. It left something to the imagination as she danced and was easy to take off once it came time to strip. Homegirl had an ass so fat you could see it from the front. There was very little pole dancing, unfortunately. It was Stripper Idol Thursday aka Amateur Night and I wanted to see what a novice pole dancer looked like on stage. One dancer held herself vertically upside down and was able to slap her thighs together mid air!! I noticed that the poles on stage were a lot higher than my current ceiling so I'm probably going to have to start with twirls and save the Cirque du Soleil acrobatics for later. Gives me time to build muscle. =)


And finally, Sin City was also the ONLY spot I hit up in New York City that had good-looking men. Maybe I'm attracted to well-dressed men with money or maybe the Bronx just got the swag that I like... I don't know. I would've given some of those fellas private dances any day of the week. Holler.

Pulling Knowledge Wherever I Go

"Give love, compassion and positive education to the incarcerated and they will give back love and compassion to society. Give hate and no compassion to the incarcerated and they wil gve back total anarchy to society."

-Todd Ray Abernathy

----

"Grounded is a state of mind. You don't seem to be grounded at this stage and its not a bad thing... it just means that nothing's holding you down right now. You got your wings spread for the next couple years of your life. You have big dreams, girl."

-Edwin, a kindred spirit born and raised in Brooklyn and living in on Long Island. We were sharing stories of our lives and he basically broke my life down for me.

New York City. // Pole Dreams

Lift off in a couple of hours.

Nervous, yes, because I'm an East Coast first-timer.

Excited enough to bring 5 pairs of shoes, three of them stilettoes. I gotta knock them Brooklyn boys dead, ya dig? Bring a little West Coast swag.

Prepared to never come back because I fall in love with Big City Lights so easily.

---

Isn't it beautiful? It's not mine, but by the time I hit quarter century, it will be.

For the past year I have been harboring dreams of becoming a stripper. Well, maybe not a stripper . . . shall we say an exotic dancer? A burlesque performer? A champion pole dancer?

Hate on me all you want. My sense of self, while not entirely complete, has progressed from that timid middle school girl that hid behind oversized jackets that covered my frame to a slightly Narcissitic young woman sporting cut-off wife beaters and a pair of killer stilettoes (see above).

I do not sing. I do not rap. I do not play instruments. And I am certainly no model. This I have come to accept over the years. But there is one dream that I am not going to let go unlived. This is my new obsession, my objective: performing on a titanium pole in stripper shoes. Again, hate on me all you want. Let society's stigma of half-naked dancing influence your judgments. I don't give a fuck. This is my dream, not yours. And my dream will not serve to objectify me.

That being said... my next big purchase (after, of course, the canvas art of Mos Def for my apartment) is going to be a removable dance pole and a set of mirrors for my living room walls. Now, I don't plan on making any money off of this dream. (Unless my boy Mac Boo makes it as a rap superstar and hires me to be backgroud eyecandy. Love ya, Boo!) I plan on living my dream in private for the sole purpose of personal self-development. I love to dance. I love to be sexy. I love when people watch me do both. Like I said, narcissitic. Not to say that I'll take my dream to the streets and offer it up to casual passersby or post performances on youtube for all to see. I wouldn't subject innocent bystanders to that. Oh no, this will be the special treat. The icing on my future husband's cupcake. Pa-dow! Some women can bake pies, others hem slacks. I'll be the only wifey on the block who can twirl. I've already got my first song picked out: In the Air Tonight by Phil Collins... that drum rift in the middle of the song is just sessy.

But, more important than whoever my Prince Charming may be... is the fact that when I picture that beautiful pole in the middle of my kitchen... I can't help but laugh. I can't help but think of all the fun that I'll have with it. I can't help but say to myself, "eL, you're fucking awesome." My dream isn't the most practical application of my hard earned money, yes, that much I will admit. But, neither are my tattoos. I'll leave practically to my mother.


Target Date to Live the Dream: March 1, 2009.

Until then...

Musical Therapy

Dedicated to the late Claire Gunn.

Sean, if you're reading this . . . I think of you more often than you think.





"I am sitting here wanting memories to teach me
To see the beauty in the world through my own eyes

You used to rock me in the cradle of your arms
You said you'd hold me till the pains of life were gone.
You said you'd comfort me in times like these and now I need you,
Now I need you and you are gone.

I am sitting here wanting memories to teach me
To see the beauty in the world through my own eyes.
Since you've gone and left me, there's been so little beauty,
But I know I saw it clearly through your eyes.

Now the world outside is such a cold and bitter place,
Here inside I have few things that will console.
And when I try to hear your voice about the storms of life,
Then I remember all the things that I was told.

I am sitting here wanting memories to teach me
To see the beauty in the world through my own eyes.

I think on the things that made me feel so wonderful when I was young.
I think on the things that made me laugh, made me dance, made me sing.
I think on the things that made me grow into a being full of pride.
I think on these things for they are true.

I am sitting here wanting memories to teach me
To see the beauty in the world through my own eyes.
I thought that you were gone but now I know you're with me,
You are the voice that whispers all I need to hear.

I know a please, a thank you, and a smile will take me far,
I know that I am you and you are me and we are one,
I know that who I am is numbered in each grain of sand,
I kow that I've been blessed again and over again.

I am sitting here wanting memories to teach me
To see the beauty in the world through my own eyes."
-Wanting Memories
Sweet Honey in the Rock

Headlines.

What more has to happen on these streets for something to change?

"Mayor Gavin Newsom says violent crime is down and so is the City's homicide rate."

Newsom, you're a douche. Open your eyes, your City is deteriorating. But I guess, your "recovery", your wedding, and your race to the Governor's mansion are more important, right?


---

"1 out of every 100 Americans is imprisoned."

Yes, our corrections industry has grown to grotesque heights. At present, the California Corrections Peace Officer's Association is so heavily financed that they're willing to petition current Governor Arnold Schwarezenegger's recall from office. And WHY? Because they haven't received their raise this term.

Fuck them. While you're asking to get paid more, California's education system is reaching new depths. Money is being taken away from students, who already need 2-3 part-time jobs just to survive, and being put into our prisons. Statistics show that half of those imprisoned aren't even of age. 50% of those release are rearrested in 2 years. The other 50% released are illiterate or dealing with major mental health and drug addiction issues.

We are raising a generation of prisoners, people. That doesn't fly with me, considering that those growing, maturing, and learning RIGHT NOW will be the people that are going to take care of me in my old age.

Fuck, I just hope that my Criminal Justice degree doesn't bite me in the ass someday. Thank freakin' God, Obama shares my views. More money put towards diversion programs, drug court programs.... but as he promotes turning the issue away from the corrections and prison industry and toward public health , California is sitting still on a state budget that has already cut numerous mental health programs, especially here in San Francisco.

Lyric 09.06.08

"Poor is the man whose pleasures depend on another."

-Justify My Love

Madonna

Working on Saturdays

If the paperwork is done by 9am, you may youtube for the rest of the day. Coffee, bagel, and an air conditioned office? I'm straight.

#1 Rex Navarette- Death of a Manila Folder. Quite possibly my favorite segment ever. "What the fuck was Narding thinking?!"





#2 Courtney & Will- Samba. I. Want. To. Do. This. Give me a dress, a man like Will and I'm all over it. Thrills.

Tales of the Mission.

(please click) Mission District Headlines, Sept 05, 2008

Trina E. is on assignment in the hood where I spend a majority of my time. She asks me, "What kind of issues does the Mission District face?" I am astonished that she doesn't already know.

This is what I'd like to call the armpit of San Francisco. It sits at a lower elevation than the rest of San Francisco, insulated from western Pacific fog and wind, it is almost always sunny. Everyday I walk on sidewalks that reek of human waste and on hot days like these, the Mission becomes the devil's playground. This is what the tourists don't see.

----

Between the BART elevator and the local Walgreens sits three Latin men, sprawled on the pavement clutching 32oz. aluminum cans masked by brown paper bags. Their faces have traces of dirt and grime, indications of where they laid their heads the night before. Fifteen feet away, crouching up against the BART rails is a woman, 30 going on 70, breathing deeply. I watch as she lifts up her soiled dress and pierces her outer thigh with a needle. Across the street, where the McDonald's is, there is a line of children wearing blue and white plaid school uniforms taking in their environment and learning from it.

----

On my way to the office, there is graffiti on the wall. It reads, "Beer Picnicy" in bold red letters right next to a mural that tells a story of hope. But you would never notice it underneath the spray paint. Every other week, I put in a maintenance request to have graffiti washed off of my building's walls.

----

I look out my window and watch a grown man and grown woman duke it out on the street over a small plastic ziplock bag and its contents. They yell. They push. He spits on her. My coworkers and I watch the drama unravel and finally the police are called. But by the time the cop car rolls around, they are long gone.

----

Three teenagers are shot in the face: two dead, the other paralyzed. A 15 year old daughter picked up for prostitution, brought home only to steal money from her father and head back out to the streets. Another daughter kicked out of her home because her family cannot make her go to school, instead she robs liquor stores. A man living out of a suitcase tells me that he would rather pay two grand on gold jewelry than pay for rent. Three males who don't look a day over 14 sit atop Dolores Park on a school day carrying around 40oz Old English bottles instead of books.

----

He asks me, "Why do you want to help me so much?"

"Because I want to feel safe when I'm out there," I say pointing out the window. "I don't want my children to live in a world where people like you are roaming around. If I can help you become better, then that world becomes better."

It sounds selfish, I admit. Maybe a little harsh, but it is the truth. With this man, I think I am making a difference. I pat myself on a job well done.

Two weeks later, I find out that he is back in jail.


----
I see these things. I hear these things. And while I do not suffer the same fate, I live these things. I try hard not to let this world ruin my idealistic version of San Francisco life but it does. Am I fighting a losing battle?

Even if I am, I can't stop fighting.

Impatience.

My horoscope says to me today, "Romance does very well for the paired Fish but may appear to go on hold for some reason for those in new or non existent status. Opportunity appears to be delayed until the cosmos can work out the next encounter. Smile and know that the Universe is working on it."

Today I want to say "Fuck the Universe" . . . but I won't because I trust.

This only makes my impatient-demanding-addictive personality more agitated. A Pisces can only have so much patience before she packs up and leaves. Keep in mind... water douses fire and fire boils water to steam.

Smile, eL. New York City is less than a week away.

Sidenote: I just got my ticket and I found out that we're getting $900 for 9 days. Smile, eL. Smile.

Reason # 2 Why I <3 Music.

It provides a bridge between people to connect on one united front. It brings a message to the people.








Due to a lack of cable TV, I missed the entire convention. But I loved this. Thank you, Ricky Vincent.

Cosmpolitan Magazine 08.31.08 // Lyric 09.03.08

"2% of women can have an orgasm without even being touched."

Holler. =)

----

I said, "Excuse my hands."

She said, "Boy, stop playin and

Make love to your #1 fan."

-Please Excuse My Hands

Plies ft. the Dream