for love day…
in honor of love day, i thought i’d bring back a post designed to help the single gal weed out the fools. since most of my friends are newly single (sigh), might be worth their while to announce that they’re now taking applications. lol.
for those who have it, and those who don’t… here’s how to GET TO THE PEK PEK.
love. hope. FIGHT.
leave it to my crazy home town to host shit like this. for couples and singles alike, or for anyone who just wants to have fun, or let out their love agression on perfect strangers — come join me at the 4th annual Great San Francisco Pillow Fight
1) Tell everyone you know about Pillow Fight!
2) Tell EVERYONE YOU KNOW about Pillow Fight!!!
3) Nothing in your pillow but pillow.
4) Don’t hit anyone without a pillow.
5) Don’t hit anyone operating a camera.
For those of you who wanna do somethin’ more traditional, Come and support the MAV foundation for our Love and Hope Charity Fashion show. SO-Cal! The next MAV event will be in sunny San Diego on 4/24 so mark ur calendars! =)
Jillian’s San Francisco
Doors open at 6:00 pm, show starts at 7:15 pm.
Music provided by Carrion Kid
“this is not a love story.
this is a story about love.” — 500 days of summer. KK, this ones’ for you.
sometimes i feel like my life can’t be true. things happen to me and to people around me that are straight out of a movie script (but make the best Hellz stories.) girl falls in love with her guy’s best friend, guy is dating his baby mama’s cousin or girl finds her prince charming and her happily ever after.
the only thing that differentiates real life from movie life is that you can’t always tell who the protagonist is. you don’t know who you’re supposed to be rooting for, and when you’re waist deep in your own shit, your savior can be the devil or your angel… it just depends on who got their first. as an outsider, watching these stories unfold is kind of amazing. even if no one else is watching, you choose sides, imagine the outcome, and cant wait to see what happens next. case in point…
your story isn’t a love story. it’s a story about love. i know the ending i want tho, lemme explain.
that guy you fell head over heels in love with is standing 2 inches away from you. he’s the same guy who broke your heart, but for some reason, thinking about it now is just a vague memory. the butterflies in your stomach are making it hard to keep a straight face as “small talk” permeates the space between you. his hands are on your shoulders, and i can hear your heart fluttering from across the table.
as soon as he leaves, you instantly wish he was still standing there — conversing with you, looking into his eyes, hearing his voice say your name.. he is the realest thing you’ve experienced in a long time. surprisingly (or not surprisingly) its the same way you felt years ago and it’s written all over your face. we talk about the way it was then… dates over hot chocolate, movies with the family. it was all so surreal and so REAL at the same time. “it was the perfect verse over a tight beat”.
with time, that melody got played out. the timing was off, the commitment wasn’t whole and it took a long time to accept that you weren’t your prince’s princess. but you finally did, and you got over it. and although you never forgot, you pushed it back to a place that wouldn’t stop you from moving on… so you did.. so you are…
but all of a sudden, with a simple kiss hello, its staring back at you along with his brown eyes. you remember all of it and in that instant, you’re swept away back to that first night you danced with him. he took your breath away — he takes your breath away. your heart skips a beat — no, its making one. you can’t hear his voice over the boom in your chest– its “the perfect verse over a tight beat“.
this is not a movie. this is not a test. and just because he couldn’t be your knight in shining armor then, doesn’t mean he can’t be your happily ever after now. does it? after all these years and after all the bullshit, you two are so different, and yet so.. exactly.. the .. SAME.
consequently, life isn’t so easy. between you are people, places, things, time, life…about a thousand steps, and even more regrets. to be back in that space where only the two of you existed is just wishful thinking. but even if you don’t believe you can get there again, i do. i still have faith… i always have. i still believe you deserve your happy ending, and i believe its with him.
when u find it, its gonna be the best story i’ll ever write.
one for one.
i first heard about Toms shoes from Soulmate, on one of our random conversations. Then, I started seeing them everywhere…. when they finally showed up at my favorite store of all time — NORDSTROM, i knew it was time.
For those of you who aren’t familiar with Toms, their mission is simple:
TOMS Shoes was founded on a simple premise: With every pair you purchase, TOMS will give a pair of new shoes to a child in need. One for One. Using the purchasing power of individuals to benefit the greater good is what we’re all about. – tomsshoes.com
Africa, Uganda, Haiti, and USA are only some of the countries they donate to. Here’s why you should buy TOMS 1) they’re fucking comfortable. 2) they even come in hobbit sizes [Queenie!]. 3) they make a donation with no extra cost to u. 4) you can choose which country your donation goes to, and 5) i said so.
Today, I bought my first pair of Toms Shoes and chose to have the donated pair go to my home country — the good ol’ US of A. I am now dancing around the office in them, hoping that the kid who got my donated shoes is dancing too. One for One. That shit is amazing.
marathon.
one of my girlfriends asked me last week how i met my husband, how we handled growing up together, and how we still manage to find common ground.
verbalizing our story was.. i dont know, like.. therapy.. so here it is.. this one is less for you and more for me.
i met mike when i was 12, at church. we started dating when we were 19. thinking about how we were then, i never thought we would have made it this far. we were jealous, controlling, and head strong. he didn’t like me doing anything without him, and i needed to be needed. we skipped the whole “honeymoon” stage and we fought. and fought. and fought. A LOT.
how we managed to make it beyond our first 6 months is beyond my scope of comprehension. but somehow we did. and throughout the next 3 years, we learned about each other. really learned when we were at our best, what we wanted out of life separately, and how we could make them work together. short story long, it was a lot of hard work. and for those of you in a long-term relationship, u know that “hard work” doesnt even begin to describe how hard the work actually is.
ive never cried so hard, he’s never been so mad. i take a lot of his shit, but he takes a lot of mine. there are times i want to smother him with the pillow in his sleep. and i m sure there are days, weeks, or hell, even months when he just wants to light me on fire… but in the end, the truth is, we would rather be the way we are with each other, than any other way without.
when we started to get serious, we built this idea in our minds of how it could be. and when we’re bad, we try and remember that idea. we know we can’t be perfect, but we know we CAN BE BETTER. we have faith in each other… and more than love, we know that we will try and try and try until we can’t anymore. so the bad days don’t worry me. the bad weeks will pass. the fights are short lived.. because we both know that we’re in it for the long haul. that, and we both have a high threshold for pain. ha.
we’ve come a long way, and we still have a long way to go.. but there is something about this love that caught me heavy, and i cannot, nor will not deny it. 8 years strong and counting.
iii know u like to think yo shit don’t stiinkk
but lean a lil bit closer, see the roses really smell like boooo booooo – outkast.
my current fb status says this:
coworker – why do you nbring a bottle of water to the bathroom?
me – cuz i wash my ass when i take a shit.
her – u mean to tell me, u wash ur ass EVERYTIME u take a shit?
me – u mean to tell me u DON’T?
both – gross.
it’s not the first time someone’s been really surprised with my hygeine habits. in middle school i was the only filipina girl in my class… NO ONE understood what the fuck a tabo was, and i could not comprehend the idea of a “skid mark.” i just didn’t get it.
“why don’t you just use toilet paper?” well why don’t you just wash ur ass!?
as i got older, i started to appreciate the culture a little bit more… cuz i was always fresher than the next bitch. and my ass never itched! (you know who the fuck u are!) anyway, i know not everyone washes all the time, and when i can’t, them baby wipes come mighty handy. but please… don’t knock the tabo. contrary to popular belief, skid marks are not your friend.
DoWorkSon
today’s lightbulb came in the form of an AIM conversation.
[10:03] annnaaa: How the heck are you?
[10:03] Raaachem: lol. so busy
[10:03] annnaaa: I feel like i havent caught up with you in forever.
[10:03] Raaachem: SO FUCKING BUSY
[10:03] annnaaa: Just on Twitter
[10:04] annnaaa: Busy with what?
[10:04] annnaaa: Your life is so cool!
[10:04] annnaaa: haha
[10:04] Raaachem: busy with work!
[10:04] Raaachem: hellz!
[10:04] Raaachem: mav!
[10:04] Raaachem: life!
[10:04] Raaachem: working out!
[10:04] Raaachem: potty training!
[10:05] annnaaa: All thos are good and fun.
[10:08] Raaachem: yeah
[10:08] Raaachem: but i just feel like i have no time
[10:10] annnaaa: That’s the best though.
[10:11] annnaaa: Time for what? Aren’t you doing everything you love anyways?
huh.. ain’t nothin’ like my girls to bring reality to the forefront. i’m doing everything i love anyway. Anna, you’re right. lets keep doin’ work. Thank you. =) I’ll see you, and the city of angels sooner than later. DWS!
and i quote.
“Behind every real bitch there’s a bitch ass nigga that did her wrong but made her strong” -Katt Williams
hala ka diyan.
i wrote this post on the Hellz blog last week about spaking ur children and oh BOY did i get a response. from agreeing with me, to completely disagreeing with me and calling me “disgusting”… i got a lot of heated, heartfelt comments about it. you can read the original post with all comments HERE. lemme know your thoughts? i’m interested in your take on the matter.
isa! dalawa!
Posted by raaachem on January 22nd, 2010
shit. whenever i heard my mom counting, i knew i was in trouble. in fact, i was gonna get my ass beat and there was nothing i could do about it.
jess put me on to this article in hearty mag:
Debra Danielsen, mother of Farrah Abraham who stars in MTV’s reality series Teen Mom, was arrested yesterday for domestic assault. According to the Omaha World Herald, Danielsen was standing three feet from Farrah holding two knives and screaming when the police entered their Iowa home. Danielsen refused to comply with police orders to drop the knives and the officers drew their guns on her. Reports state that Farrah and her mother had been fighting over childcare issues and other “problems”.
where do i even begin? long gone are the days of my youth, where anyone older than you could discipline you by kicking your butt (strangers, and family members included).
all my aunties, uncles and older cousins had every right to discipline me when i’d get out of line, and please believe they did. i even remember the principal at my elementary school would spank kids everytime they would get an infraction.
hitting children was just the way it went. it was discipline and it was soooo necessary. how the fuck else were we supposed to know how to act right, right?
then came the day when some smart-ass-all-kinds-of-wrong-kinda kid figured out that spanking could be misinterpreted as child abuse. maybe, if he told people he was gettin’ abused by his parentals, he could then do whatever the fuck he wanted without gettin’ belt marks on his ass. to say this was the start of a slippery slope that has ended with kids killing kids, kids getting pregnant, and kids simply running amuck is an understatement.
as a parent myself, it kills me to spank my son’s hand or his butt when he’s doin’ things that he’s not supposed to do. and altho i believe Farrah’s mom did a LIL TOO much, i truly believe Farrah needed SOME kind of discipline. do you see the way she talks to her mom? no kinda respect whatsoever.
as a child, i understand all too well… but i also understand that the prospect of getting hit with a belt, a slipper, or a hanger scared me shitless and kept me outta trouble. it made me come home at curfew, do the dishes and my homework, and never ever ever talk back to my parents. ever.
regarldess of your position on child spanking, it works. timeouts, and grounding and alla that shit works too. but i put $100 that Farrah’s parents never spanked her as a kid…. and they wonder why she’s the way she is. psh.
Raaachem
1 comment