From San Jose to San Jose in a day!

Sleeping has magical powers. While I stared at the clock blinking a 4:22am at me in the SFO airport I repeated that mantra as if I had slept a full night sleep instead of staying up a full 24 hours plus.

With blood shot eyes and a mouth full of golf balls I had to have a charming interaction with a rather grumpy ticketing agent. Reminding myself, charming equals first class, charming equals first class because my inital reaction was to reach over the counter and strangle the unpleasant woman who was about to decide my airplane fate.

Walking away with a ticket and a false promise of a place in first class I began my sleepless trip to Costa Rica. Another ticketing agent later and one far more unpleasant met me at my gate grunted at me, "NO chance on first class lady." and then proceeded to laugh.

 That was it! My resolve was slipping. Just-make-it-to-the-plane! Andddd I did. Then an angel decended down from his heavenly perch dressed in flight attendant attire and asked if I was flying D3 aka standby.

"Yes I am." I said hesitantly

He smiled and said "would you like  a complimentary alcholic beverage."

I sat right up and repeated 3 times "Yes! Yes! Yes!"

So 2 free drinks and a free snack later I was ready for my trip to Central America! In fact, I think my seat partner caught me drunkenly mummbling San Jose, San JOSEEE! either way I enjoyed the moment immensely.

Crazy Lady = Run away!

I had the craziest and most expected news today...I dont know how I feel about it and I certainly dont know how to handle it. Do I cry (already did that). Do I start yelling (already do that). Do I get excited....havent done that...Oh Lexie no one is to blame but you my friend. That is right I got myself in this mess now I have to either deal with it or figure out how to get myself out....that actually might be a lot more difficult than originally thought. Fuck me! I simply want to run away from the crazy person that I am right now...sounds nice...

Dick's Agenda

I read an article today about human consumption and the environmental degredation we are exacting on our beautiful Earth. The article sited a recent report that stated how humans are now using 50% more resouces than our Earth can replenish. Also it stated how ultimately its the rich countries that are the ones perpetuating this huge problem. The wealthy nations are providing the demand and are searching for the supply in poorer countries thus disposing the environmental burden onto the vulnerable. These economically unfortunate nations have become the dumping ground for the rich. Politicians and entreprenuers use these factors to their advantage because they make more profit. First world countries create the waste and the waste ends right back in the places that provided them with the resources to make the trash in the first place. US, Holland, Neatherlands, Canada, Australia and several other first world countires have become living trash mongrels:


not quite....




These rich nations have become a trash army! But I have strayed from my point. New stories such as  this one have made me start to piece more things together.

In the last several weeks I have been hearing a lot about various political developments that have been rubbing me the wrong way. One thing I heard was about was that up until April this year it was completley legal for politicians or government workers to use non public information to base their stock market purchases on. Essentially we call this "insider trading" which Martha Stewart got slambed for a few years ago


However for Government employees its called a pension plan. They would go as far as to pass certain bills that would effect certain stocks that they had invested or had planned to invest in.  Congress just passed The Stock Market Act in April that makes it illegal to do these practices but it only passed because politiicans took out the policing portion of the bill which was that politicians involved in "political intellegence" had to register themselves.Without this one provision there is no way to really catch naughty government employees in action....they will simply deny all charges...

Also Govenor Jerry Brown and several California government officials just approved a budget plan. Which included shaving down quite a bit from public child care programs by cutting or combining certain programs. Now analysist have pointed out the transparency behind this decision. They suggest that Californian politicians passed the shaved budget in Child care Services because it was a political move. These anaylists believe that at the end of the year they will use these budget trimming as an excuse to tax middle Americans more....and the rich less  (most likely)

These stories as well as countless more I have heard over the past week alone have made me distrust our politicans and goverment workers even more than I already did. They dont do their job to help us. They arent out to help the world or feed the hungry...they are simply out their to make a buck regardless who they have to kill or better yet WHAT they have to kill to get there. What is one planet's health and survival? What is one hungary kid or a thousand? What is one more middle american loosing their home because of rising taxes and and an inflated morgage? What is one more illegally traded stock? If I am rich then everyone will be rich in a way...right?

Its all motivated by money and power.Things have never been nor will ever be done because they should be or they might be done because it is a political strategy to gain more votes, power, money...I am sorry for the homosexual community, the immigrant community, the poor community the female community the latin community the black community....because all of the rights we have received (big or small) has not been done because we all have deserved our freedom and right to be present and integrarted equally in society. NO! It has all been done to further some jackasses career or pay for his extramarital affairs with little boys or high class hookers.... How can we ever trust any politican voicing the words of Hope or change when the only hope and change I see is to further some rich dicks agenda?

The San Francisco Treat

My Nephew with his hot chocolate, Legos :D

and his fleece. All necessary accoutrement's for a child's SF trip.

My Father: A Childhood Contradiction

            My father was my favorite contradiction as a child. He was both my beloved childhood friend and the worst Disney villain. Those grey-blue eyes terrified my seven-year old mind, but they also made me feel at home. There was a story that could be told just by gazing into their periwinkle depths. The lines at the sides of his temples and the ones framing his mouth also told a story, one of enjoyment, but the deep wrinkles on his forehead and between his eyes told of a harsh reality: 14 hour work days, hard manual labor, a desensitized and strict military father, and a forgotten youth.

 The contradiction continued. He was both familiar and a complete stranger. It was years before I even knew his name. He was simply dad to me. My grandma would call out to him “GUY! Guy come here!”

Several years later I got the courage to ask my grandmother why she always called my dad “Guy”. Why not call him by something more personal like honey or sweetheart, or even by his real name, Dad? 

“Oh Silly that is because that is his name!” she exclaimed.

 I looked at her puzzled. Guy is not a name, it is a pronoun.  Why would anyone name a man Guy? Is that not repetitive? It was silly really, which was part of who my father was. He walked that fine line between silly and cruel; often times completely falling on one side or the other.  His naturally straight white teeth and inviting smile was welcoming when he was in good spirits but they quickly turned into fangs when he was angry. His anger only made his six-foot, 230 pound, bulky, square frame seem bigger and even less inviting. My father’s size was intimidating in all occasions except one, when I was lucky enough to be gifted a hug. When he held me it was as if I had my own personal super hero and no one in the world could touch me. Even the Boogey man would slink away from fear. But those hugs were rare. Terms of endearment were even rarer.

“Soldier one! Go clean the dishes! Soldier two! Go clean the bathroom! AND MAKE SURE IT SPARKLES,” he bellowed in his military voice. It would make us quiver with fear and confusion. He was no nonsense when he wanted to be. If his voice and monstrous size did not express this then his crisp white shirt meticulously tucked into his levy jeans and large leather belt adorned with a tombstone of a buckle did. I was his princess but also his soldier to command. At a moments notice, his five children would morph from his dirty little munchkins into an indestructible army ready to do his bidding

            What I enjoyed the most about our contradictory connection was holding my father’s hand as a little girl. His calloused grip enveloped my delicate porcelain skin. His hold was deadly when it needed to be but could be the most delicate touch when holding something that needed to be handled with care. I loved to swing our hands back and forth as we walked together down the street. My father might have been unabashedly cruel at times but he was also just a big man whose military brat history ruled his every waking moment. When you stared at his buzz cut, massive biceps, and scowl my intuition screamed danger, but then the words “ICE CREAM!!!!” would fall out of his mouth with a childlike falsetto twirl. What I came to understand in my adulthood was that my father was as much a mystery and contradiction to me as he was to himself. In his mind there was a constant battle between sensitivity and harsh reality, but either way he would still always be my villainous best friend.

1000 Days: My Journey Across the World

For class this week I had to put together a slide show using Adobe Premiere. It took me 12 hours to do! (a sign of a true beginner!); however, since it took me half a day to do I thought I might as well post it here since it is a mini story in itself. Please excuse how rough it is. I am still very new at Premiere. 

Enjoy.....

Wimp with a Cake

As a cheeky five year old I was always diving after the biggest slice of pizza or the largest chunk of cake. I would get into hair pulling matches just to be the first to done my saliva coated tongue on the cookie and scream " Its mine!!!!!"

So why is it that i have not grown out of my approach to making things mine but instead have reversed my desire for the biggest piece....Now as a partially grown adult I thrust my tongue out fighting for the smallest piece of pie, the tiny slice of cheese cake, the most pathetic sliver of pizza....have I become a wimp in my older years? Just cant handle all that goodness at one time? Are my saliva glands not working properly? can I not coat a big piece with enough of my saliva to make it mine before others get to it so have to settle for the small piece instead?

Disgrace. Five year old Lexie would kick 26 year old Lexie's ass....