Swing Dancing with Sarah Palin

I returned to the hardwood for perhaps the final countdown. Shook hands with rivals, stretched my aching limbs, and conversed with my partners. Well, everyone except Audy. The speech I had prepared did not have the killer’s edge that I wanted, so I audibled into deafening silence. She hunted me down and forced me to dance with her, but I decided to just go moveset. I only reserve moveset for two occasions: impression and ignorance. This time, it was ignorance. In light of recent developments, I acquired the desired reaction from her, and there will be discussion to understand how to proceed in the future. I”m sure it will be most intriguing.

Thanksgiving was a couple days ago, and I spent it alone. Since I’m borderline manically depressed, I chose to set up camp in Long Beach for the holiday. I joined my family for about ten minutes, but quietly returned when the situation presented itself. The night ended with Del Taco, just as fate intended.

Another day of work, another story to tell. To conclude my holiday, I went swing dancing with a girl from class. I’m very interested; she has a warm personality, and has a passion for dance. However, I knew something was off; very few girls have direct chemistry with a guy like me. It turns out she’s as red as they come.

She’s a Republican. In fact, she’s Sarah Palin.

Her first name is Sarah, so it was fitting. But we got along well enough despite the feeling that I was on a date with my mother. However, I will be exploring future possibilities between us; it could be fun if some barriers could be exterminated. Skibbedebebop. Much later.

Current Track – Kevin Rudolf feat. Lil Wayne “Let It Rock”


Opportunity Cost

The road to the top is a hard fought battle through molten caves where if the victor is lucky, he might see his life flash before his eyes as his rival encompass him for one precise killing blow.

That’s how I feel right about now after being Social Dance Champion. I clawed my way to the top, only for no one to respect my legitimacy. People always harp on about Marco, and now that I think about it, maybe he really was the best and I had no chance of living up to those absurd expectations. I tried so damn hard, but now, I long to retire back to Los Kentuckos where only the illusion of past glory shines bright.

The party was fun, no doubt about it. I wanted to run things my way, and things went as smooth as luck would have them. I blessed the floor with two goals: get respect and get the girl. I can argue the former went as planned, and I can argue the latter was never meant to be. I led every dance and never left the dance, as expected. I showed up dressed to kill, as expected. I learned from my previous setup mistakes, as expected.

I returned home alone. As expected.

My two primary targets had very distinct styles, but left me with the same bitter taste in my mouth. Both tickled my fancy by being deviants; one of the real world, the other dance. One had a thing for my second banana and ended up having relations with my third banana. The other was just plain taken. The end result is the once proud Best Dancer in the World™ is heartbroken. Crushed. Defeated.

Now, I no longer want to dance. There were two goals, and one keeps eluding me, as it has in my other endeavors. The pain, the blood, sweat, and tears…all for nothing. Reason being? The game of life is all or nothing, no exceptions, even for recognized status.

I’ve been looking over my college status for next year, and I’m again looking at a surplus of units. I’m strongly leaning towards 21 units, eliminating dance from my schedule. Effectively walking away from the platform that has allowed me to become an urban legend. I’ll probably reconsider when I’m not at the edge of paying a late graduation fee and jumping ship to grad school a year early, but…this empty feeling is stronger than the will that permits it to exist. Usually, a rejection slides off my fingertips, like my partner when I signal for a spinout. Now, it clings to me like my partner who’s afraid to try new stuff because these are uncharted waters. Skibbedebebop. Much later.

Current Track – Goo Goo Dolls “Iris”


The election was two days ago, and I feel compelled to give my views. Let me preface by saying I’m a political major whose views lean heavily on the left end of the spectrum. I’ve been called a communist in recent times, and I’ll admit that it’s pretty accurate. At the very least, I don’t mind socialism if it helps out the common man. Sure, that’ll dip into my pockets when I’m a billionaire, but the overall good of mankind is a great reason for responsible, progressive taxation.

Kudos to President Barack Hussein Obama II. Why the full name? Because the conservative media has been diligent in pointing his distinctly un-American name and possible Muslim leanings. I’ll go on the record of saying his name was a shock at first, but his values were far from it. Seeing as I didn’t wholly hate Saddam Hussein as he too was a victim of Bush, the middle name was not a deterrent. And if he was Muslim, that would not bother me, either. Religion should never be a deciding point in politics, as it offers a potential belief system, but does not ultimately decide if a person is good or bad. Again, congrats to Obama, and may he have a partisan Congress and Supreme Court to help thwart his sleepless nights. Sure, partisanship isn’t something to strive for, but the Bush Administration ran unchecked for six years. I wouldn’t mind to see what the Democrats could do with such power. Also, it was nice hearing John McCain sounding like the real John McCain. To you as well, Senator, good luck; you return to a Senate and GOP that no longer holds you in high esteem.

Recalling my previous sentiments on religion, I am ashamed to be a Californian. Why? Proposition 8 passed, which effectively eliminated same-sex marriage. Any girl I encounter would not hesitate in branding me a whoremonger. In fact, I take pride in that title. What I do *not* take pride in is stripping rights from other people. Gays getting married doesn’t truly affect anyone other than those getting married. I don’t believe the prop would have mandated churches to oversee these unions, so there is much ado about nothing.

Continuing, the fears held by overzealous nutjobs in regards to their children are unfounded. Sadly, this would’ve helped children; show them how to tolerate themselves and others. The suicide rate of kids keep rising because of intolerance, and one factor is that some are questioning their sexuality and can’t comprehend their feelings. The schools teaching acceptable difference is only a fallacy to those who abide unconditionally by a book once written by people who thought the world was flat. And the field trip thing…parents have to sign off on the trips their kids take; blame the parents…and don’t use past Massachusetts examples.

Protecting traditional marriage in a state that has a 78% divorce rate…admirable, I guess. But so is willfully discriminating against them. I guess this particularly hits me hard because I had a tense discussion with my mother about the matter; she voted yes on the proposition. She said the idea that gays are the new blacks is insulting and “something those people want you to believe. I read it on the internet.” Now, I thought she was joking. I figured after all these years, I had finally brought her around to be more tolerant. Instead, I lost my mother to bigotry. The disdain she had for us who wanted tolerance is alarming, yet unsurprising. She is a Bible-thumper, and proudly said she voted no because she’s “a Christian.” Needless to say, I rejected her overtures when she asked me to take her to dinner; I can’t eat dinner with…well…I’ll reserve a word.

My idea is this: why did this go to a vote? Sometimes, democracy could be the worst tool at a society’s disposal, because not everybody has the education required to be competent. There had to have been away to decree gay marriage legal in pursuant of the Fourteenth Amendment. But for that to work, someone has to repeal the Defense of Marriage Act from 1996. There had to have been a way…if it worked for Brown v. Board of Education, it’ll work here.

We’re so close to complete tolerance it’s scary. The question is, how scared is the opposition? Skibbedebebop. Much later.

Current Track – Nickelback “Side of a Bullet”

Halloween Salsa and Wrestling

Let me preface this by saying twenty-two units is a bitch. No ifs, whats, and buts about it…it’s a bitch. I work hard, I study hard, I tutor hard…I do everything hard. That did not come across the way I wanted, but fairly accurate. After school and work, how does Anthony have fun?

CSULB Halloween Salsa Bash, held on Halloween.

Did I have fun? Yes. There’s nothing quite like teaching a new friend how to salsa, then seeing her subsequently get hit on by every guy in the joint. There’s also nothing quite like having your ass slapped when you’re dancing with people you kinda/sorta/maybe don’t know. Phil’s class is awesome, but there’s something about going to a real salsa place where every guy there has a taste for blood and exist only to upstage the next guy. I did not get upstaged; that’s one of the benefits of having a championship belt as an accessory. Overall, after some Denny’s and talk, I came home and snored, because I had damn near pulled an all-nighter to make it as far as I did. For the record, I came as some crappy version of CM Punk. Knowing that I’m theoretically contradicting the maxims of a straight-edge, the irony made it all worthwhile.

How do I top this?

Pro Wrestling Guerrilla Battle of Los Angeles 2008.

I’ve never seen so much blood before. I’ve never seen a ring break live. Bryan Danielson. Chris Hero. Masato Yoshino. Necro Butcher. TJ Perkins. Nigel McGuinness, who was convinced I was gay by the end of the second night. It’s alright, Nigel; just nurse those injuries and you can keep thinking I’m a tosser if that makes you feel any better, you wanker. Best of all, KENNY OMEGA was there. Any wrestler who hails from Pokemon Stadium is cool in my book. The fact that he ate a Canadian Destroyer makes him that much more revered. Good wrestling, good weekend, and I just heard Chris Jericho regained his belt. I swear, it’s like every bad thing I had reversed itself over the weekend. Maybe this string of good luck can continue until I’m appointed Emperor. Or maybe not. Skibbedebebop. Much later.

Current Track – Bonnie Tyler “Holding Out For A Hero”