Copilots & Homies

I'm fairly obsessed with all things German: the history, the culture and the language. And so when any WWII related film or show comes to my attention, I'm there. All the way. Especially if it's an alternative plot to the reality. So when I saw The Man in the High Castle on Amazon Prime, I was like, "Hol' up, hol' up. Hold. Up. Let me at this thing". And it did not disappoint. I spent all of my Saturday binge watching all of the ten measly episodes it had to proffer instead of working on my speech for this coming week. Because...you know, I'm a procrastinating college kid. MHC takes place in post-WWII world, a world that succumbed to Hitler's reign and encompassing the former eastern USA as Japan  rule over the west coast. So to cut it short, both sides are trying to obtain these realistic propaganda films (showing the A-bomb being dropped in Nagasaki, the American's victory, etc. You know, shit that really happened) made by some dude in a...

A fellow homie and I had a conversation a while back about how nice we were perceived and how we must have this face where people feel the need to confess or the invitation to spill some deep dark story from their past. It was amazing that so many people feel confident to just divulge any secret to us. I wouldn't even utter a word to my family if I was dying and here are people telling me shit, personal shit might I add, and have the audacity to end it off with, "I don't know, I just feel like I trust you so I'm gonna tell you something and you can't tell it to anyone else." Bitch, don't! I'm a fairly good secret keeper if I don't roll with your squad, because hell! Who am I gonna tell?Or if it doesn't have anything to do with my homies. But let me tell you, when you explicitly say "Don't tell anyone", I'm telling my homies. Because I am Scar. They probably don't even know you personally, but that's what homies do. W...

        I have a lot of obsessions: chocolate, carne asana fries, romantic comedies, Harry Potter, and cuss words (especially foreign ones, oh la la p). But of my most beloved infatuation is the reigning queen: HGTV, specifically House Hunters International. There's something about judging other people's choices in living arrangements (you're really going to pay $1100 a month for that ?!) that just warms my soul.  I mean, honestly, it's like you're traveling across the globe buying town houses in trendy neighborhoods and condos in the Virgin Islands and renovated churches in Normandy without the pain in actually forking out your cash. You can learn so much from this show, i.e. the importance of "entertainment space", open space, crown molding, hardwood floors, unobstructed view, LOCATION, the horror of popcorn ceilings and granite! Granite! Stainless steel! I can't walk into a home IRL now without updating and doing a complete renovation in my mind.  A...

By now the news of the Paris attacks have made the rounds across the globe and back. And by now we're all reminded of how we all seem to hate each other. Palestinians hate Jews, Jews hate Palestinians, the US hates the entire Middle East, ISIS hates the world, the entire world hates terrorists, Trump hates Mexicans, Mr. Kenny from next door hates Mr. and Mrs. Flores' dogs from across the street and we all hate Brussels sprouts. But, and here comes the inner hippie for some fresh night air, can we just pause the perpetuated cycle of hate, because look where that's got us: a 100+ dead civilians and eight dead terrorist. I don't think we know who is taking credit for the attacks, but for now, before the media starts plastering groups and faces all throughout their broadcasts, we should take a look at all the good that's been done these past 24 hours. There are reports of taxis shuttling people home free of charge. Hotel staff sheltering ter...

I've got problems. As do all living beings. Even the nonexistent ones reading this. They're not like Kardashian sized problems. Those are issues, not problems. The difference being problems are something fixable and able to overcome and not just mask behind disillusionments of the psyche, and especially the soul. Or Botox. But, fuck it, still #TeamKhloe. So a few of my problems came up during my trip from school to the place of where I reside. My home, yes. My first problem is, I believe, a familial characteristic that I need to, quickly, reign in: eaves dropping (or if you're at the same mental capacity as I, ease dropping). I don't mean to, honest. I had both earbuds on, full blast jamming out to James Bay, but it's like JB had purposely lowered his voice to a careless whisper to allow me to catch the tense conversation going on before me. Especially juicy tales with more drama in it than a TNT show. Or an MTV plot come to think of it. This kid was chatting up w...

Well technically, happy birthday me. Had a great birthday this year (Remember remember the fifth of November) and I just want to give a shoutout to all the homies who made it so. Mom and Cuzzies who got me delicious food and cupcakes from the Little Cakes shop. Everyone needs to try the Green Tea and Honey because that is magic. Shoutout to the homie Titty who made breakfast and dessert; although your chorizos were slightly burnt, I could still taste the love. Thanks to the homie Ah-nuh who knows me so well and though she was about 50 miles away, still seemed to be here. Thank you for my HP book; I will cherish each page so much so that by the end of the year I will recite it word for word. Thank you to homie Dal who stalked my Twitter feed and was my own personal Hagrid for the day. We will bake that apple pie one day. And thank you to all the well-wishers. Here's to another year!                 ...