Archive for the 'personal' Category

The Other Me



I can’t state my full name here for fear of Google, but I’m working hardcore on my professional ish and wouldn’t be peeved to get some input and activity happening on that front. See my LinkedIn profile; go to my portfolio site; and hit up my (very new) professional Twitter, which will be lit & film focused without the profanity, the personal (such as, “Sangria, I love you.” and “Soccer games make me feel so heterosexual.”), and the political (pro-migrant, pro-health care reform) that you get at my @_aliciadk feed.

Note: The picture will change this evening when I get home.

If you’re on LinkedIn, connect with me. If you want to get with that sort of a Twitter, follow me. Thanks!


This Blog's Brush With Relevance

My PJ Harvey/John Parish concert review was quoted at BrooklynVegan, coincidentally the only music blog I can stand. I was prett-y flattered.

This is my t-shirt. There are many like it, but this one is mine.


Had to have it. Gotta support the other people in the world who love the sound of their own names.

Why Blog?

This question was asked rhetorically yesterday, and after sleeping on it I realized why I do feel inclined to publicly post the minutiae of my life, and it is the same reason that I write in general: to give structure to my experiences. Incredibly basic, yes. Maybe it’s just my bad memory, which both forgets and distorts, but without taking notes and subsequently chronicling my experiences, I feel lost. I’ve kept a journal since I was a kid and started doing so online when I was 15, and it has just never gotten old for me. I still write in a paper notebook (in fact, 4), and it’s why my other blog (which I’m trying to keep completely separate from everything else) is called “A Pathological Writer.” Though my output of fiction and other “publishable” writing isn’t what I’d like it to be, I’m constantly in the act, and that is satisfying to me. Having an experience and not writing about it isn’t satisfying to me, basically, whether I do it publicly or privately. So, that’s why this place exists.

My Life is One Big Geek Out

There are many things I’m planning to write about, but I’m currently taking a bunch of pills (prescribed for a couple of bizarre ailments that have befallen me) and am ridiculously tired. Two weeks or so left of this garbage if all heals well, and until then I’m not expecting much from myself. Not writing compulsively is boring, though, so I’ll be eking out whatever prose I can. The world really can’t do with a break from my fine ass.

In the meantime, here is my schedule for the next couple of weeks:

Thursday, April 16th:
“Geography” in Latino Writing Today. Four notable writers will discuss geography and the notion of “borders” as a place, an idea, and a force in their work and in U.S. Latino writing.
Also: Happy birthday to Candice!

Friday, April 17th:
Sugar at Cinema Arts Centre
Sugar is the intense character study of Sugar, a naturally gifted baseball-pitcher from the Dominican Republic.”

Saturday, April 18th:
Record Store Day! Heading over to Looney Tunes in the morning to pick up some new vinyl, then we’re on our way to New Jersey in the afternoon to see the NY Red Bulls play Real Salt Lake. We have season tickets. Don’t ask me details about soccer, though, I just curse and cheer. Occasionally at the wrong times. Baseball is the only sport in which I am fluent.

Friday, April 24th:
Sandra Cisneros at Instituto Cervantes for the 25th anniversary of the publication of The House on Mango Street.
Cassandra’s 24th birthday party at Le Royale!

Saturday, April 25th:
Must see The Soloist. The trailer made me cry. I’ve not read the book. Should I try to read the book first?

Sunday, April 26th:
New Jersey again to see the Red Bulls play DC United.

Wednesday, April 29th:
The birthday of my good friend Doug! He’ll be 22.
If there are no festivities on this day, I’ll attend “Roland Barthes and the Invention of Modernity,” part of the PEN World Voices Festival of International Literature which I will be coming into in the middle.

Thursday, April 30th:
Kerry, my red-headed BFF since 7th grade, turns 24. This year we’re also celebrating being friends for half of our lives.
I took off from work so that I can attend both “Tendencies in Spanish Language Literature” and “Diálogos Isleños: The Life and Work of Reinaldo Arenas and Blai Bonet.” In between these, I’ll be going to my Spanish class. If you haven’t noticed, I am into Spanish and Latin American/Latin@ literature.

Friday, May 1st:
Again, no work so that I can have a clear mind, take notes, and live-tweet “The Best of Contemporary Mexican Fiction.” I will get so many followers.

Saturday, May 2nd:
“Where Truth Lies: A Conversation on the Art of Fiction”
“Writers Who Are Translators”
“On Translation”
My head will be spinning by the time I get to to The PEN Cabaret at 7:30pm. Participants include Lou Reed, Parker Posey, and Horacio Castellanos Moya, so I had no choice but to buy tickets.

Looks good to me. Now I need to write it all down in pen or I will forget everything.

Hey, what's up? Welcome to the new spot.

A couple of weeks ago I started a new professional blog/site in order to have a place to write reviews and other things that might appeal to people who could pay me, and it got me considering my use of Tumblr. For many reasons, I was never comfortable “blogging” there and always felt… judged. So I’m done with that. Anyway, at my other site I’m trying to keep it resume-ready, so I’m not inclined to say anything about my political leanings or personal life. That brings us here, to what will be a personal blog on which I don’t have to appeal to followers or potential employers and can indulge my every blog-y whim.

How I Really Feel about Neptune Beach Club

When you’re a misanthrope who does not drink and has anxiety about new social situations, you should not volunteer to review nightlife because you’re not a person who ever has a good time, period. Your objectivity never existed in the first place. That is number one. It is the second thing I have come to know for sure in this life. The first is don’t go to the prom with your ex-boyfriend. Even a non-boyfriend ex-boyfriend. He’ll suck some bitch’s nipple in the limo.

So Scott and I go to Neptune Beach Club on Sunday afternoon, and once I realize there are actual people there I do not want to get out of the car. I promised some guy this column, though, so I soldier on. Thankfully there was no cover, and a couple of hulking bouncers let us in without issue.  They don’t even try to make jokes about the fact that my hair is long and straight in my license picture, but it isn’t anymore!  The bouncers take their job seriously, and that’s about the only nice thing I can say about the place.

But the crowd is old. And by “old” I mean they all seem to be in their 30s. Their clothes are unattractive. They dance in unrhythmic ways. The song playing is some 80’s pop-rock piece of garbage that might as well be Journey, without the hipster irony. A large woman writhes in a skin-tight polyester floral tube dress.

I have no idea what I’m doing.

Tiki bars. Blow-up palm trees. Oh look, the ocean!

The DJ plays a hip-hop song! Saved?

…He’s mixing it into “Paradise City.”

We go up to the bar and I try to talk to the bartenders to get the basic lowdown on the club. They’ve never heard of the magazine I’m writing for, and they’re cold and unresponsive. Should I talk to the clubgoers? No, no. 400 words isn’t that many. Get me the hell out of here.

400 words is that many.

I’m fucked.



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