Month: November 2004

  • Something happened on the way to the blog…

    This:

    Hijitos mios,

    Espero que sus corazones y sus brazos estén abiertos. Necesito su compasión, apoyo y aliento.

    El jueves 4 me secuestraron en lo que aqui se llama un "secuestro express". Pasé, desde las siete de la tarde en adelante, las peores 4 horas de mi vida. Sin embargo, tuve entereza y mucha suerte.

    No sufrí daño físico alguno. Los secuestradores fueron sumamente "amables" avisándome desde el principio que no me harían daño.

    Me robaron un buen dinero, pero me bajaron en una calle poco peligrosa para ellos y para mi en la zona del mismo sur.

    La moraleja: no tomar un taxi en la calle por ningún motivo y menos si se dirige una a otra zona llena de tráfico como el costado por Insurgentes de Perisur donde fue que el taxi se orilló para dejar a 2 asaltantes con pistola subir a pesar de mis empujones.

    Eran profesionales e iban a lo que iban, a obtener dinero.

    Todo pasó por mi cabeza, pero predominó la imagen de los rostros de Ustedes la cual me mantuvo ecuánime. El secuestrador que dirigía la operación me "felicitó" por mi cooperación y mi calma, forma de perversión desconcertante.

    El se distinguió por su sangre fria y por su insitencia en que eso no era un secuestro express (ya que dan 40 años de prisión por ello) sino que había cometido una "fechoría" que le salió mal y no quería quemar su camioneta que nos venía siguiendo. Se había subido al primer coche que encontró. Mentira, después de conjeturar decidí que me habían seguido desde Plaza Inn donde opera esa banda.

    Dijo que quería después de su fallida fechoría que el taxista lo sacara de la zona. Posteriormente tomaría nuestro dinerito para la gasolina y de paso checaría mi tarjeta en un cajero, claro.

    Se bajó en los cajeros de El Portón, en San Jacinto, mientras su compañero, el taxista y ello dabamos vueltas a la glorieta. Se volvió a subir y me llevó a una calle cerrada de Copilco para bajarme entre toda clase de amenazas y órdenes de cómo había que bajarme. Se siguieron en el taxi. Estaban coludidos, claro.

    Corrí sin parar desde el Vips Copilco donde avisé del secuestro y cancelé la tarjeta hasta el Vips Altavista donde me recogieron. Estaba en shock.

    De haber encontrado mas dinero en la tarjeta me hubieran detenido hasta las 12:30, es decir hasta el otro dia para sacar mas.

    Me mortificaba pensar si en mi lugar hubieran atacado a un o una joven.

    Decidí que si cambiaban de parecer y me obligaban a llamar a alguien de la familia, no lo haría. Morir no me dio miedo. No sé por qué.

    Después me llenó de tristeza y melancolía pensar en la posibilidad de no volverlos a ver y cuando me bajaron finalmente del taxi, como prometieron, me dije que el verlos crecer y el deseo de compartir con Ustedes, me había sostenido en el trance tan traumático.

    Los adoro y anhelo su abrazo.

    Tengo ataques de pánico durante el dia y salgo poco. Duermo bien.

    Cuídense mis adorados,

    su Mamá

    For all you weirdos who do not understand Spanish, my mom was sequestered for an afternoon as the hooligans that held her took all the money that they could out of her ATM card. She said she wasn’t hurt, that they tried to pawn it off as some unique incident because they needed gas, but she knew it was a gang. After they let her out, she thought that her love for my siblings and me got her through. She gets panic attacks in the day and doesn’t go out much, but sleeps well. In a nut shell.

  • People be fucking in January…

    Three parties, four (a set of twins) Scorpio girls born on November the 6th, three evite invitations, three bars near each other in the east village. Too many coincidences. 9 months and 24 years ago some whoopee got made. I couldn’t go to all three because I forgot the address of the last, but here are the birthday girls, all taken from an arm’s length away:

    Aren’t they all gorgeous? I thought so. And what a night it was. Some blasts from the past appeared. Look at gabe and todd. They don’t know each other, they weren’t even at the same party, but here they stand side by side like the great friends they could be.

    Mallika and I competed to see who had better cleavage, and she thinks she won, but I beg to differ. Here, you can chose too:

    I told you mine looked better.

    And i created the drink of the fall: grey goose and coke. You can go ahead and start the trend.

    I caught up with Gregory Barlow, which had not occurred in a long many moons.

    Flirting drinking and many other gerunds ensued. God bless scorpios. God bless nov. 6. And god bless 9 months and 24 years ago.

    Oh, and i almost forgot. i couldn't decide what to wear, so i went cher (from cluless) style and took pictures:

    Did i make the right choice with white? i think so.

  • All night war…

    Hoping to have a scrabble date that never materialized, I improvised and called john for some pool time on the new table at work. He arrived about eight, and we did not leave until four in the morning.

    Yes, we played 15 games of Nine ball, took a break to eat, played five $10 games of poker, and capped it with another 15 games of ping pong. 35 little self inclusive wars. He spanked me in pool 9 to six, then beat me in poker pocketing 30 dollars, and then I choked a masterful lead of 7-2 wins in pong to a 7-7 tie, only to hold it on the fifteenth game with a good win.

    What did we have to pay for these 8 hours of solid entertainment? Zero dollars. Getting to let out some healthy aggression in high octane, high caliber competition? Priceless. For everything else, master your card.

  • The poker past...



    I have been meaning to do this, and now it is finally here. The winners. I have to take more pictures of final twos. I kinda stopped, but now i have inspiration to begin again. Eight seven suited, and someone raised me all in, i call and so do three other people. The dealer flops me a straight. This allows me to appear in that last photo, winning enough to make it to the end with 60 in my pocket.

  • Periphery…

    We live in spheres and circles, spinning, gravitating, and usually staying in orbit, but really always fluctuating, a path that veers and bends.

    I go to university, meet some peeps, hang out, revolve and evolve. I escape the bubble with minor bruises and deeper knowledge pockets, a new universe opened of shining stars to spin amongst.

    What happens when you roam in the same circles as another great floating orb, and yet never really meet?

    This just happened to me and a new found blogger extraordinaire: Madame Bex. We must have spun just by each other so many times. We know all the same people. I have heard of her countless times, and she says she knew a bit about me, and yet never the twain shall meet.

    This phenomenon of periphery, of orbiting around the same people but never clashing happens more than you think. Just as bex and I would finally enter each other's air space, we witnessed nat j. on the daily show. The place blew up, except harris. He had no clue who the hell natty light was. All of us knew him, but that nat was a black hole in harris’ orbital plane.

    The paradox… we are all in the center, and in the limninal state at the exact same time. Just a difference of perspective.

    The metaphor extended fits right in with the saddest political day of our time… all Americans, yet living in two totally different countries.

    Karl Rove, I salute you. Smartest person in politics indeed.

    Four more years before the pendulum crashes back the other way… we hope. I thought that swing would have happened yesterday…

    Don’t cry for me argentina, you know that I’ll never leave you.

  • this was all of us at the beginning
    this was all of us when rather first said that bush had it.
    i caught it, but i wasn't sure anybody else had. He looked down at his notes, straightening the paper and said, very tentatively, i think the president has it. And i could see in his face, that if they had not been burned four years ago, he would officially call it right now. So i said it out loud, i think he just gave it to bush, after a beat. what, ohio? rutkoff asked. no, the whole thing. when? colby heard it as well and reaffirmed it. i took the picture because i felt that was it. i knew it.

    who knew the power of ohio. karl rove did.
    aaron would not hear of a loss, vey optimistic. i wasn't. KR. redrawing county lines. taking over the senate and the houses. four supremes dying soon. Rutkoff said he would keep his beard going until kerry emerged victorious. well the beard shall stay for a while.

    ohio.

    can kerry pull out provisional ballots? bring out the lawyers? i am not optimistic.

    red red everywhere.

    its almost three. im going to bed.

  • All hallows eve…

    Yes. Twenty-four years, and about 9 months ago, two people got it on. Thanks to that, here I am today.

    Halloween has always been a bit weird for me, since it shared space with the remembrance of my birth.

    It’s a wacky holiday as it is. That cathartic need to lose yourself for a bit and hide behind a character, drop the “you” for a change. Free to give in to baser desires, a bit wilder, darker.

    As a child, the allure of candy (the definition of instant gratification when young) ruled the enjoinment of the holiday. The dressing up a masquerade to brighten what lies underneath: Halloween as a lesson and reminder of death, respecting its place in the human cycle, alluding to it in an attempt to accept its existence.

    So shared with all that, this end of October has also brought many other things. Presents, people calling me, a somewhat annoying need for everyone to try to make that day “special.” It becomes a burden to be lauded. And I know the people that love me feel it is important that I have a day when they can show how much they appreciate me, but I don’t like the extra attention, it’s hard to take, too much pressure.

    Alas… another turn around the sun. What have I learned? How have I changed? Am I better? Wiser? Fatter? Richer?

    What does it all mean, here, on this day that’s about me, celebrating my arrival on the scene?

    Who knows? Im still here. And of course I’ve changed, but I feel like the core Dustin remains the same. I hope im wiser, that a year of experiences has taught me something. Im definitely richer and fatter, and I wonder if those two have a strong correlation.

    Most people who love me did call me. And that did feel good. And I’m glad I’m still around, and I think the place I am mentally is all right. I might even be excited about another year here, the future, wide open, infinte in its possibilities… from death to marriage to mundane small increments of living.

    Happy birthday to me. Today was my day.