Endless Joy at the Dollar tree.

I seem to be on this kick where little things in my everyday life are making me happy. This is probably because Im broke and basically can't partake in the lavish or fancy things that the rich and indebted are enjoying.
So today, I was in need of dish soap and Fabuloso. With the last 2 dollars that I had in cash, I took a little trip to the most comprhensive Dollar Tree I have ever been to. This place has everything a beaner on a budget could ever dream of. From brand name rubbermaid containers, to off brand and questionable pregnancy tests, this place freaking has it all. I wandered up and down all of the aisles, thinking I could totally sustain a living off of the products in this store. They have all of the cleaning essentials I need with the labels in espanol mind you, tons of food products like the nacho cheese sauce that looks like it should be refridgerated, but for some reason is sitting on the shelf right next to Mrs.Fletchers 100 calorie brownie cakes. Then there is the aisle of dollar shampoo, conditioner, ovulator predictors, and pregnancy tests. Im wondering why there arent't any dollar condoms, but something tells me, that with all of the baby detectors here, dollar rubbers aren't that reliable. Oh, oh, and then there is all of the stationary, balloons, fake flowers and my favorite halloween stuff, basically all of the shit that I keep in bags in my closet and use every few months when I need to give a gift or make my home a little more festive.
So basically, to wrap it up, Im broke and the dollar tree makes me happy, so happy that I needed to take some pictures to illustrate the joy from the store that makes my measly 10 dollars feel like a million bucks!

I wanna give a shout out to 'La Sad Girl" in Moreno Valley

There's probably nothing in the world that makes me happier than to tune in to Art Laboe on a Sunday night and hear a thick ass Chicana accent, giving a shout out to the homies/baby daddy/familia out there in La pinta, or just kickin it at home. The exhange between Art Laboe's 90 year old ass and the devoted cholos and cholas every week remind me of the desert days when me and my three best friends would sit around, eat hot cheetos, drink Jarritos sodas, and try to get through the phone line to request "Girls It Ain't Easy". For some reason, we felt that at the age of 11, we knew that the world had to be tough place. Hearing the stories of the vatos locked up and the rucas that were waiting for them, made us all think that life in LA had to be pretty rough and that the airbrushed happy/sad dichotomy that taught us to 'smile now, cry later' had to have some truth to it. Although none of us grew up in Los Angeles or around the 'cholo' lifestyle, we still felt like we were badass enough to wear belts with the metal buckles with our initials and that it was our duty to try and get through the phone lines. It was almost as if getting through the phone lines and dedicating such hits as "Only the Strong Survive", and "Angel Baby", somehow connected us to this whole Southern California culture of love, crime, olides, family, and 'homies'.
To hear the Art Laboe radio show now, not only makes my heart happy, but it also makes it break a little. I miss the days of being a nappy headed kid, without a clue. The world even though it seemed as if we were headed for a heap of shit, wasn't so compicated. I miss being fascinated by the voices I heard on the airwaves and wondering what "Mousey and Flaco" looked like. Chances were, Mousey had a bad peroxide dye job, with big saggy boobs with her vatos name badly tattood across it, and Flaco was probably an overweight 40-something year old doing time for a crime he's going to prove he's innocent of. And by the power of Mousey's dedication of "I Only Have Eyes For You", and Art's over dramatic sloppy 'Kiss', we knew that everthing was going to be alright.

PS..the spell check on this blog was ridiculous... guess google isn't down with the Cali slang!

I love Portland and all....

But these skinny boys in 'Never Nude' shorts are really getting to me. I don't know where the trend started, but somewhere, the bullemic boys of Portland took a vote and decided it would be fashionable to wear tight cut offs during the summer. Now I don't know about you, but I find these shorts to be troublesome. Not only do they to make me aware of how fat my ass has gotten, but also wonder if these boys are interfering witht the circulatio to their giblets? Maybe im just hatin', but this trend serioulsy makes me wish it was pants weather again.

Young, Broke, and Beautiful

Here's a little segment where I like to display and glorify the 'impoverished' life of a collge student. This week I would like to take the time to give a shout out to Colorsilk, By Revlon. For just $7.00, I can color this thick ass mane of mine, and get (near) salon results! Not only does this recession friendly product cover my roots, but it comes with a packet of hair conditioner that I can ration out for the rest of the week and best of all also comes with rubber gloves that can be re-used for washing dishes, or givin' a health exam! Who the hell needs a fancy salon dye job when I can do one in my own bedroom for just a fracation of the price. Thank you Colorsilk, for keeping me beautiful.

Why being single kicks ass

So, Im in my bed, with my hair a mess, no make-up on, eating a bowl of oatmeal for dinner and watching episodes of My So-Called life. As I look around my room and see the chonies thrown on the floor, the fitness magazines scattered about and my arts and crafts sprawled out all over the floor, I can't help but feel compelled to write a short list of why being a single gal rocks.

1. Watching re-runs of teen melodramas all day is totally acceptable. I have complete control of the Internet tv watching.
2. Brushing my teeth is optional. Granted, I love to keep a clean mouth and usually never skip a brushing, but having the option to run around with total shit breath is disgustingly comforting.
3. Spending my money on myself. Sure, its thoughtful and nice to spend money on someone you love, but what happens if your significant other's birthday lands on the same day tickets to Depeche Mode go on sale? Thats when I say sorry sucka, sacrifices need to be made, and you're no Dave Gahan.
4. Free drinks at the bar.... need I really say more? I have this formula down to a science. When Im out with my girlfriends I have a 2 drink rule. I am only allowed to buy myself 2 drinks, then the rest are up to the pathetic losers on barstools.
5. Not having to explain random/late night texts or phone calls. They happen, most of the time they are a bad idea. But hey at least the option to get into some trouble is out there. I mean really, who needs a boyfriend to cockblock your opportunities?

there are a million more, like: Not shaving your legs, not having having an ego (among other things) to stroke. Not having to deal with male PMS, being able to sleep diagonally in the bed if I want to, smiling at babies without having to explain that I don't want one, being able to order my meals in the most finicky and bizarre way without sighs of annoyance.... oh the list could go on into the night. But basically, what it comes down to is that I really enjoy the pleasure of my own company.... now back to the teen soap operas.