Kamaina

To be referred to as kamaina is strangely satisfying- that two day long haul, epic cross-country drive, and three-time apartment switch has officially handed us over to 'local' status.

The first week felt complacent. Nothing settled in- did we really do

this? What the hell were we thinking? Too late to back out now...

Contrarily, who are we to complain? Who has the ability to do such a thing? These plush hills, barren lava desertlands, and 10ft seaside swells have me breathtaken.

The six hour time change leaves my phone quiet, urge to arise by the early morning sunrise, and compelled to watch the natives wail out in the late ocean landscape waiting for the next interval large wave. A sight only eyes lucky as mine can endure for the next... however long I choose ..

Some things will never change

If you're going out with someone new..

I'm going out with someone too

I won't be sorry for me

I'm getting drunk

But I'd much rather be..

Somewhere with you

laughing loud on a carnival ride, yeah

Driving around on a Saturday night

You made fun of me for singing my song

Got a hotel room just to turn you on

You said, pick me up at 3am

You're fighting with your mom again

And I'd go, I'd go, I'd go...

Somewhere with you

I won't sit, outside your house

And wait for the lights to go out

Call up an ex, to rescue me

Climb in their bed,

But I'd much rather sleep

Somewhere with you..

Like we did on the beach last summer

When the rain came down and we took cover

Down in your car out by the pier

You laid me down, whispered in my ear..

I hate my life, hold on to me

Ah, if you ever decide to leave, then I'll go, I'll go, I'll go..

I can go out every night of the week

Can go home with anybody I meet

But it's just a temporary high

Cause when I close my eyes..

I'm somewhere with you

somewhere with you

If you see me out on the town

And it looks like, I'm burning it down

You won't ask and I won't say

But in my heart, I'm always...

Somewhere with you

Falling short

Seemingly, more than months have passed. Feeling out of touch with this ever-so-dramatic life style of mine has me house-ridden with no escape plan- besides a couple sultry nights a week where I can forget about which inexplicit events have taken place thirty minutes into the suburbs. It is not a lack of admiration, nor feeling of complacency for this beautiful acreage, but rather a lack of emotional content, or displacement; I can't seem to choose which fits more. When I want to engage in conversation, I'm berated for wanting too much besides television and carpooling, so in return, when I feel like keeping my mouth shut, I'm yelled at for having a piss-poor attitude and my incongeniality. Floodgates opening again, I feel lonely and misplaced-replaced by something I cannot grasp, longing for that one urge- that one nights escape to pull me away from all reality. I see him walking upstairs, not even thinking to say goodnight. I see him luxuriating in thousands of other words as he usually partakes in with everyone but me. And I'm supposed to settle for a car ride's worth of chatter. For Romeo, I wish, but the land is becoming barren as I try to meander my way around this desert- looking for every drop of drink.

the food trailer movement.

not only had the floodgates opened over dallas, but more specifically, had been hovering over 3600 Wheeler for the past weeks- and no better time than me having to drive a jeep with a broken top. and what's worse than one car totaled? two- and a friend's at that.

it was time to get out of this town- head south past this barren, boring & recently cursed city. a place where valet is mandatory and brunch had better be on your sunday schedules to avoid ostracization.

but no, not in this luscious, laid back capitol. tree-lined streets, bike lanes and rivers. always something else to do besides indulge in vodka on a saturday afternoon. we were astonished to realize how much activity we could actually fit in, this hung-over saturday afternoon.

Austin's best bbq- Franklin's-should definitely not go unnoticed, uneaten rather. for the first time in my life, i stood in line for an hour and a half to get these 2 lbs of brisket, pulled pork & sausage- but better luck next time; an hour and a half in, they had already sold out of ribs.

after another night with my attorney's counterpart- nowhere near as unbearable as Benicio Del Toro- i figured the next day would be unbearable without digging in to barrels of beer and escapades around the unfamiliar city, but luckily the company of these hospitable veterans led us through and unsavaged journey of south Austin.

a few hours were spent persuading the man in the monkey suit to jump in the icy natural spring, just south of downtown; a few others were spent holding in laughter as he complained his way on to this marvelous, stand up, kayak-like invention...and, as usual- many, many hours spent laughing at his repetetive assuredness.

some may view this city as a gross, physical salute to the fantastic possibilities of life in this country, but let's get down to what this is really about- a seemingly fabulous movement engrossing this large state's capitol, perhaps comparable to that of the years to follow prohibition- and don't be fooled by it's slang, for it is nothing of the sort- trailer parks.

these small communities of unsurpassed food exude nothing but ingeniousness. Yeah, yeah, I'll always be impartial to my city's gyros & coneys, but these austinites have taken food carts to a whole new level. gourmet doughnuts worth an hours wait; unrefined quail eggs & pork belly; epicurean franks filled with bleu cheese; and artistic tacos radiating names like dirty sanchez & brush fire.

hundreds of these amazing things, making my mouth water at every passing by. these trailers have even gone as far as to form coalitions and iPhone apps. Hello America! tangle & tease yourself in the next big movement about to take over history's textbooks...

[not] high on life

Infiniti, gone. Paying $70/ month for insurance I never use, stupid. Breaking my iPhone again, go figure. Days of stomach pain and too many pills, unbearable. The only way to get around these things, and these brutal barkers on the other side of the mojo wire is to puff a little huff of sunshine, instantly bringing me to my knees, in exhubarant laughter on the floor of this paper covered, hectic hole- similar to january before the playoffs, this end of the wire, client interviews, hasty off-coloreds, and pushy school teachers send us straight in to busy season. And what a better idea... let's re-assign everyone... my own calling, I think it's time for some heavy drinking and drug use- something to really put me over the edge this time... Vegas it is. Some over-priced hookers, more revealing strip joints, and a little too much sunshine...& pretty lights the only question- is it smarter to go by myself, or should I bring a babysitter?

In this fabulous first week of april..

I have managed to: do $10,000 worth of damage to mat's car; rail my head on a windshield; deny personal injury protection and therefore lose $5000; lock my keys in my car; spend serious time in physical therapy (note to self do not wear leggings when asked to bend certain ways); pop pain meds; lose the opportunity to move everything in to my girlfriend's truck; not sleep; miss some serious time behind the mojo wire; and last but not least, not consume an alcoholic beverage. Why me, you ask? I find myself asking the same question. Not only did he pull out right in front of me as I'm cruising along at 40, but at some point in time, his mother decided that it would be a good idea for him not to be insured under her policy. Now correct me if I'm wrong, but if you deny your son this privilege, why do you hand him the keys to drive eight hours away? Fascinating, I know. So to bring you up to speed, a claim will now be placed on both his and my insurance as no fault. We will be responsible for not only the deductible, but a rental as well, the cars resale value will drop by fifty percent, and the possibility of no longer being insured with amica exists for both of us. After careful consideration and deep thought in to this current situation, my pain and suffering spent in days of physical therapy, involuntary exposure, and nights of inconceivable back pain and headaches, the only way to come out on top of all this, is insurance. That's right - we pay and pay and pay, and finally one is eligible for something in return. Now, contrary to the past two years of our delicate time spent together, these papers made of gold will give me the upper hand. $10,000, you say? Why yes, sir. Did you need this? For your car? Your deductible? Well....it's gonna cost ya....

Saarrr, my tum!

My poor little Sar. what this little one has to deal with all day.

"Sar, address this envelope for me pleeease?" Why Sarah? "You're handwritings better and I really need this job."

"Tum-tum whaaaaa. I think it was my dinn. man my stomach lately; I think it's collapsing on me." Well you're probably still have some of that laxative hanging around in there. "No it's just giving up Sar." Change yourunderwear in mcdonalds.

"Sar who sings sycamore tree song?" Haha, Josh Turner.

Sarah I need to leave. I have class in an hour! "No Saaar. You can't leave. I need you here."

The cookie was gross. "Hahahah. I was just going to text you.Why can't my vag be normal for one day!!!"

"Saaaar. Gingham tablecloths. 4 o'clock. Remind me?" Ok Sarah. Don't forget to forward your phone.

Sarah this lady is driving me crazy. I've made twenty changes for her and she's still pissed. "Sar, tell her to suck my vag. Chimp chimp."

"Saaaar, who sings the sycamore tree again?" Sarah! Josh Turner!

"The doc told me it'd be curedwith DayQuil. Fml going home and to bed. The fuckin girls at the office always saying 'go to the doc, do this do that' bullshit waste of my time and money. Crying in my car. And you can tell them every word! Good night!" Just don't overdose on dayquil/nyquil please. I'm forwarding you my phone tomorrow. "Poop!"

"Saaaar, helpppp. my tummy! I can't chimp. I'm not myself." Go chimp Amy Sarah.

"Saaar, I want to know a dirty secret of yours. C'mon, how many men have you slept with? Black, white, mexican?" No Sarah. " Saaaaar pleeeeeassse. " Ok Sarah, I wore purple lingerie last night.

Thank chickens for this little angel of mine. She's hear to keep me in check... plus, I do so dearly making her laugh. spoiled.

little by little

In this whirlwind of 2011, we find it hard to keep our fingers abreast of what is about to clearly smack us in the face. The countdown has officially begun. Two months until we head to the plush crest of central NY, and shortly following, only two more months until packing a shit ton of suitcases full of our breeziest summer outfits and a six month supply of american hair products hoping to prosper our way through the Caribbean.


Scary, yes. Provisional, hopefully not. I'm not worried about a home, driving on the left side of the road, or the black populous, but of utmost cruciality, something to bring home the bread - as there are just hundreds of Caribbean job boards, clogging up my pop-up blocker.


I have spent countless nights, hundreds of tailored resumes, and lunch breaks soaring through any possibilities-and have learned I can no longer limit myself to the original destination. As invigorating as this beautiful place is - only beastless curb dwellers off I-35 can settle for $5.25 an hour. If only they knew what better possibilities lay beyond the concrete stilts below freeways.


It's time to trade the drab and mundane for the colorful and exotic. Live a long life where the weather forecasts will not effect relationships or celebrations - and discover life where it was meant to be lived- Barbados.


Now let's just hope a better opportunity won't cloud my reasoning to settle for this true to its own, exotic refuge..

reality. [continued]

scratchy throat, weak, and at opposite ends of the couch. good nite wednesday. all i need is to curl up my sick self with jax and fascinate until this nyquil knocks me on my ass. a day filled with wedding bubbles, blankets, and free-flying internet cords has me so frustrated all i want is silence in my own bed.

and why, i ask, does the one who's throat has been hurting spend and hour and half on the phone with bitchy, black alabamians arguing over why the correct IP address won't show up? good question. Much to my dissappointment i will have to settle for weird science over dexter. how exciting.

as now ive been taught to pray before large undertakings, i will retire to the upper half of the loft, where i won't be able to hear my fictional fantasy on his joy rides through northern california, and pray that i wont wake up feeling the way i did this o so glorious day

reality. [to others, unrealistic]

how has it been almost two months since I spent time in snowy New York? it feels like i havent left home. dallas' chilly weather has me nervous for pipey's arrival next tuesday. this frigid sheet of ice has displaced our whole office, and not to mention my routine. everyone is out of sync, and at the same token, not making any money.

2/28/11 - two and a half weeks later - i find this draft i've put together only to be sadly passed by my time spent with piper, and coherently beaten by the endless job opportunity search in the caribbean... wish me luck loved ones..

what we do in syracuse

play in the snow. take pictures of each other. have tea partys. laugh with family.

freeze in the cold. play with moms horses. open presents & giggle all Christmas morning.

watch fath do something silly with every single present that he gets. underwear- snuggies- sweatshirts, etc.

drive through old ghetto downtown.

drink at the local bowling alley with cousins and uncles.

drink at the local brewery then boutique shopping buzzed. drive down memory lane.

act stupit with cousins. rummage through aunt ros' old pictures
admire hills and snow. walk down the road to omas.

family. cousins. bars.
get pizza. tradish.. everytime I leave home before we go to the airport.
this is downtowns best.










drink beer. downtown. blue tusk.

drink at home. while shopping. 7&7's while traveling.

middle ages brewery. the blue tusk. shopping. papa gallos' mulligans. bowling alley. yikes!

play by the christmas tree drunky.

hey korea,

Perhaps 2011's new catch phrase. The new year started casual. Champagne at home, some board game called smart ass in which we soon found the trivia was of the 5th grade level.

A calm New Year's Eve left us feeling more chipper than the rest of Dallas. Twas time to remove the Christmas tree. 8 feet of crisp Douglas thistle. Best to be removed before the rest of the complex awakes, as our only lazy option of disposal was the trash chute room across the hall, far too small to house a tree this size as well asthe neighbor's garbage. But stuff the room full we did, and quietly. Soon enough, this gay prison will send outa memorandum on behalf of the poor cleaning crew.

Following Christmas tree clean up, coffee in the gayborhood, and his burning desire to play Andrew Zimmern in Dallas' Korea-town. Royal Lane & Harry Hines: Hong Kong Market Place, Plaza Bazaar, Korean BBQ, Dr Cell Phone - you get the gist.

This Asian superstore had us in awe of the fact we could find one of our favorite tropical aphrodisiacs - conch. Other mesmerizing noodles and cheap seafoods kept us entertained long enough before Aunt Rose came to town, and bumped in to us in the middle of this Southeast Asian bazaar.

Next we were off to a new Korean restaurant just down the road. Although he had claimed not to like this ethnic variety, he also made known that new restaurants are often the best time to try a place -you know, wanting to impress you and all. Impressed we were. A plethora of side dishes were brought to us, undordered- world-famous and well Reuda-hated kimchi, seaweed, broccoli, Korean pancakes, some onion stringy dish, turnips doused in kimchi, and a few others. Main dish - spicy squid with rice. I enjoyed it. After asking the nice Korean woman where we could get Korean BBQ - Mat referring to scrumptious ducks neatly hanging in roasting cases, she seemed unsure of anywhere close besides Arlington, and also sure we could not have been referring to the Koreans.

He disagrees. Sure enough, the man is right. Just a little further down the street -KOREAN BBQ.

But only to be disappointed - no hanging ducks, and more kimchi.

Hey Korea! You're food sucks. Hey Korea! Kimchi's disgusting! Hey Korea! Andrew is a better man than I. We start blurting out these stupid phrases.

Hey Korea! Kimchi this!

Expedition Korea left our stomachs full, but unsatisfied- and not too long before our stomachs steered us home. Back to our every weekend indulgence - a whole loaf of Challah. Then accompanied by the newly engaged only for me to listen to how I must have Down's Syndrome while we all played Pictionary Man. He's lucky he fell asleep before they left..