Mememe

Crush evolution

I tend to develop crushes rather easily.

But all crushes are not equal. There’s the superficial crush, the mini-crush and full-blown crush.

98% of my crushes fall in to the superficial category. I decide I have a crush on him because I like his hair, shoes, eyes or smile. It’s surface level. Of course, some superficial crushes are not surface level, but they’re equally fleeting. Those are the intellectual crushes, a subset of the superficial crush category. I admire the words he uses, the ideas he states so eloquently, or his artistic or musical talents. Of course, these can be combined. He can have a great smile, be brilliant and have great taste in music and films.

But those all go away quickly and I’m left with a cool guy friend. Well, most superficial crushes go away.

The rest — 2% mind you — stay on as mini-crushes (also known as baby crushes). Mini crushes suck.

You know that scene in Clueless where Cher realizes she likes Josh? She’s terribly awkward and self-conscious? Well, that’s what my interactions with a mini-crush are like.

I like a mini-crush for the reasons listed above with the superficial crushes. The difference is that the mini-crush actually lasts longer. I try my best to keep a mini-crush from evolving into a full-blow crush. I do this mainly by trying to ignore all of my mini-crushes cool qualities. I even add some negatives in to the mix, if I can find them. The best crush diversion tactic is inaction. Taking any sort of action is a bad idea.

Of course… somewhere along the line, a mini-crush survives. I see past the negatives and the bad ideas. The mini-crush evolves to a full-blown crush.

This last type is rare, and it’s even worse than the mini-crush ’cause that’s when I forget about logic and do something crazy. You know, like actually admit how I feel.

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Fotos, Los Angeles

Mil palabaras: Las luces

Urban Light @ LACMA
Urban Light by Chris Burden at the LA County Museum of Art

Last week, on my way to dinner, I drove past this sculpture/light show for the first time. I’d seen photos of Urban Light on the LA blogs, but hadn’t made my way over to the Miracle Mile. Even driving by, one gets a much more spectacular view than in the photos. I returned to LACMA yesterday for the Phantom Sightings: Art After the Chicano Movement show. I went through the show rather quick because I only had an hour before closing time (I went after 5 pm when admission is free). I’ll definitely go back to check out some of the pieces I rushed through.

For more on the concept behind the sculpture (and more photos) click the photo above.

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Preguntas

Question of the week: Has anyone ever told you…

“Here, read this. It’s what I was talking about at the conference in Austin,” I said as I handed the latest copy of Puro Pedo Magazine to my cousin, Vero.

“Oh, I’ve seen this online, when you send it out on MySpace,” she said and then started flipping through the magazine. I’d caught her in a rare moment when she didn’t have the baby in her hands.

I pointed out some things to her as she read. “I wrote that article. And I’m in that picture, see.”

She nodded.

“Who is this?” Vero asked. She was on the page with Rio’s Valentine’s Day cards. “Is that your dad?”

“No,” I giggled. “That’s César Chávez, the guy who started the farm workers union.”

“Oh. Wow. Your dad looks like him,” she mused.

“Yeah, he gets that a lot,” I said.

La Pregunta: Is there a famous person you’re often told you resemble?

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Cine

Does South Park have East Los Chicanos on the writing staff?

I’m not a big South Park fan, but once in a while, I’ll watch to catch a glimpse of my favorite character, Towelie. (And no, he’s not my favorite because I share his, um, habits.)

Last night’s episode, “Eek, A Penis!” makes me wonder if South Park has Chicanos from East LA on the writing staff. Half the episode was a parody of Stand and Deliver (1988)…

Read the rest at VivirLatino. If anyone finds a clip of the episode (I already search hulu and youtube), I’ll love you forever, not just on your birthday.

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Amigos

New York: Words and Photos

Monday // Day 1

31s

My gate at Houston International Airport was C31. The numbers kept following me around for the rest of my trip. It’s like Lost, but without the magical island and Others.

I arrived around 11:15 at night. I was so tired that I hit my head getting in to the cab (or it could have just been because I was wearing my straw hat and couldn’t see the roof of the mini-van). It hurt a lot. I arrived and checked in at my hotel, Hotel 31, without any other injuries.
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