B E S T I E S

muni episode:

six in the mownin, 38 geary - the bus is barreling down an empty o'farrell street. a zombo crackhead is crossing the street (or in her case maybe the milky way or into the light) completely oblivious of the 28 ton behemoth bee-lining and steady hooonnkkkking at her. her pace does not react let alone quicken. the bus, still honking, veers to the left.

a fellow passenger stands up and says, "CRAAAZY! she's a crazy! it's all that soda in her head!" and laughs. he himself doesn't seem cracked out. i (and i'm sure a few of the other morning monsters), confirm this with a quick glance down at his foots area. when i see that they are not covered in paper bags and twine, i feel it ok to laugh too. so do the others. reason being, you never want to laugh or encourage a base head unless you're prepared to handle whatever kind of flashback or flurry of fists that may erupt.

as my dopez luck would have it, we're getting off at the same stop. having just met my "safe 'n sane footwear" criteria, i follow him off the bus. immediately upon disembarking, he starts grabbing at his ass area as if it were dispensing gum balls of shit. great gum balls of on-fire shit! turns out, it was all that soda in his pants.

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lyrical stylings: miss mariah

"then i'd best not catch this flick on YouTube (YouTuuuube)
'cause if you run your mouth and brag
about this secret rendezvous
i will hunt you dowwwwnn..."

i hear those words and i see this picture in my mind



except elmer is wearing clear heels and bugs is derek jeter. go figure.

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divo convos:

divo: you know who i'm going to call?
dopez: ghostbusters.
divo: i'm calling your mom.
dopez: ghostbusters?
divo: yes, yes i am.
dopez: so when she picks up, you're just going to say, hi ghostbuster?
divo: nope, just...ghostbuster.


dopez: what's that sleeping pill with the eating and driving side effects? i think i just took one.
divo: why? do you feel like eating?
dopez: no, i feel like driving.

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ageist:

teenage casanova hollering at females in front of the mall, "hey mami...oh snap, i mean, loook at auntie!"

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ipod (life) shuffle:

nearing the end of a tough workout, my ipizzle hands me a cup of water from the sidelines with

aaliyah: try again

"really?" i ask the universe and smile.

getting physical is a mental game. that's it. that's all. when i am lifting 10 more pounds 2 more times or standing still for 4 mo breafs, it's not just my arms or legs that i am marveling at buy my brain. my brain is what keeps me from flying off the treadmill. it's my brain that lets me cross that imaginary finish line into the arms of divo waiting with that foil blanket. it's also my brain that says, eh, do it tomorrow, you've got nothing left, it's too heavy, you are the suck. but then something like ipod shuffle jumps in my corner and i can drown it out. i'm getting a sense of its my power in a way i've never either felt or allowed myself to think possible to feel.

"i may be up but i'm not awake."

that's what i told bf as he started chattin me up yester morn. look into my shark eyes and you'll see zzz's. my name is dopez and i am a morning monster. i come from a family of m.m. even niece extraordinaire has been known to have an attitude in the am.

we are night creatures by habit and conditioning. at night, i don't so much go to bed as i surrender to sleep. clock watching, calculating...if i go to sleep now i will get x amount hours of sleep and then immediately negotiate if i really need that many. however, it's not uncommon that one of my first thoughts upon waking is how much i can't wait to get back here (here being sleep in davy jones' locker 20 m-fing leagues under the sea).

los banditos were all born in the wee hours of the am and it's been said it was the last time we ever naturally got up early. ma dukes would wake us up to get ready for school and then hop in the shower. without even looking at each other in our shared room, we collectively knew we could each sleep until the shower turned off. and when it did, nascar got nathan on us.

there's this scene in married to the mob in which matthew modine gets up and slides into his already prepared clothes and shoes. my childhood (hell adolescence and adulthood) so needed that.

morning monsters don't like too move quickly upon waking but we will. we will move to avoid talking to anyone for its talking that will drive a m.m. over the edge.

my bf and my sis's bf have on occasion felt the need to form a support group, partners of morning monsters (pmm). a forum for which they could share battle scars, the frustrations of living with a clock master (one who is constantly advancing the time and snoozing), a safe harbor for the people who actually get up when the alarm goes off.

we don't ever mean to be mean. we're sleep! we call later when the thaw has worn off and apologize but with no promise that it will not happen again. i for one am just not drawn that way.
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this morning, as my bus turned the corner, all us passengers watched this guy posted in a doorway lighting up his crack pipe. all smiles.all casual. we passengers grimace. a few doors down from him is another cat chilling in a doorway. this one has his hood pulled all the way over his face. he doesn't raise a match but a finger and flips us all off. the finger steady in the air for every last person to take in. we passengers smile.