It’s been a bit hectic over here. Not for any real reason other than the fact that I’ve been keeping abreast of the news. What the fuck, man? At this point I’m just waiting for martial* law. Or a new world order. It’s not just the domestic election. I’m mostly fascinated with what’s going down in Mexico concerning the drug cartels and border towns, specifically Tijuana.

*Why can’t the internet agree on one spelling of martial when concerning marshall law? I’m going with the single “l” because double consonants with no difference in pronunciation are so colonial. (If it sounds like I just made that up, it’s because I did, but it feels like I’m on to something.)

Tijuana is a study in world politics in itself. Yes, it’s ghetto, dirty, corrupt and the birthplace of the donkey show. But it also has wealth, world class culture, education and is an incredibly important border town, it is one of a few major US/Mexico border cities. Also, it was the first foreign city I ever visited. What happens in Tijuana happens in the US, environmentally and politically. More importantly, it happens where my mom lives. When I was growing up, late at night we would periodically hear a flock of helicopters circling a mansion close by. Inevitably the morning news told of the latest drug bust and the now incarcerated ring leader with helicopter footage of the carefully kept grounds. Once, a body was found a half mile from our house. That was the closest it ever got, but there have been many, many within a 5 mile radius.

Tijuana gets dismissed as a dusty, drunken party to be left before the buzz wears off. TJ though, is special in ways I can’t even explain. I’m no expert but it is a dialectic between so many things: Anglo/Latin worlds, poverty/wealth, depravity/culture the list is endless. When all these things get mashed together, and the fact that it’s the last stop between Colombia and the huge cocaine market of the “wealthy” Americans, you get Tijuana. It couldn’t exist in its current form under any other circumstances. There is a reason it’s world famous.

As best I can understand it, the deal is this: there are two major drug cartels (Arellano-Felix Cartel and the Jaurez Cartel) a leader of Juarez died, now the AFC is trying to overtake them and their territory. This is what the movie Traffic was about, and shit has only gotten worse since then. At first the bodies were dumped behind buildings in the middle of the night. Now full blown shoot outs happen in the middle of the day on crowded streets. Innocent people die because they were in the line of fire. They aren’t small crime scenes either, these battles leave 10-30 bodies in the street at a time. What’s more, the cartels spend over $1 million a week in police bribes and they have sophisticated military grade weapons. They’re no joke.

TJ isn’t the only Mexican city to deal with violent drug cartels, cocaine has to travel up from Colombia somehow. Unfortunately, the news of all this gives people the impression that traveling to Mexico will get you killed. And that may be true of a visit to Tijuana but overall, that couldn’t be further from the truth. So when people joke about the shit hole that is Mexico, on the surface it’s true. But on a deeper level it bothers me because its been colonized several times over and each colonizer has taken what they wanted and left the aftermath to work itself out. And what we’re seeing now is still the aftermath. I think that’s a point people miss sometimes. The gold and silver mined from Mexican soil created rich economies in Europe especially Spain. Those cathedrals drenched in gold? Yeah that’s from some Latin country, most likely Mexico (or what used to be Mexico).

Consider the violent parallels of the colonial oppressors and the native drug cartels. I mean the country has been almost completely stripped of its mineral wealth so it’s only natural that people make money off the land in other ways. If cocaine weren’t regulated by the United States, we wouldn’t see these drug wars. So in a way there is still a colonial presence, except it’s not involved in violence directly but it’s complicit in it.

In an effort to keep my mind off my UCSF application I’ve become more and more obsessed with Mexican goings on. But I’ve just replaced one stressor with another. I mean, faaahck, it’s a bloody soap opera and my mom is like right there giving me a play by play. She even sees victims of the fallout in the ER where she works.

The Millionizer is at Flashcamp

I decided to put ads here after some long and serious thought . It was kinda on a whim. I saw Token had some ads and she was all, “I just want to buy a new laptop,” and I was like, “Omigosh! I want a new laptop.” So that’s where it started. I went over to the Blogher ad network  and read the deal over. Apparently, in order to generate more revenue for both parties Blogher takes it upon themselves to promote the blog. I gave them my email address and they promised to get back to me when they were ready to accept more applications. Which was, apparently 2 hours later.

Their reply email um, replied with, ” We’re not ready to open the ad network to general applications, but we saw your wonderful blog on our waiting list, and didn’t want to keep you waiting!” At first I was flattered. But immediately after I was flummoxed.* Was I really that special? So special as to warrant a rush to the head of the line? I wondered if they made everyone sign up and wait for an invitation only to give them a “special” invite 2 hours later.

*I’ve been studying for the GRE and flummoxed just flowed out on to the screen. I had to stop a second and ask myself, “Wait, was I flummoxed?” I looked at my flashcard and confirmed, I was indeed flummoxed.

Regardless, I finished the application, which included my address and social security number. So some very unknown people have pretty much all my information. Right after I sent it, I realized I should have put my mom’s PO box as my address, but oh well. Do I trust the Blogher ad network? I guess I trust them enough.

I have a fear of losing my anonymity though. My mom won’t say a word if my video camera is in the room, on or off. I can’t imagine how she’d react if she found out I mentioned sex on the internet. I’ve read a few old posts and they’re not too bad, but they’re not too great either, from a mom perspective. I know they will generate conversations I don’t want to have, that’s my biggest concern. And there might be a few confidentiality issues with work. But whatever, I make double minimum wage, they can fuck themselves. However, they do pay for my health insurance. I can make some strategic edits, I guess. I did read some things that made me cringe with embarrassment, and not even the overtly ridiculous posts. It was more randoms exclamations and terribly worded sentences.

I pretty much brushed these fears aside and told myself that none of it mattered because Blogher can promote all they want, it doesn’t mean anyone is going to actually like and continue reading this thing. Other than the fact that I publish this blog, there is nothing special here. This self deprecation managed to calm me down. It usually does. Existentialism is magical.

Of course I have to deal with the question, “Am I selling out?” Which is dumb because there is nothing to “sell out.” I think on a typical day maybe 30 people read this blog. A nice round, fathomable number. I like 30. It’s not like I’m sitting on a thousand acres of rainforest and selling to a factory farm that wants to import cheap beef to the US. I am fine with my decision. It is kind of weird though, somehow themillionizer.com becomes less of all mine. Knowing I can always opt out and go back to the way things are right now is comforting though.

If the ads could even pay for hosting it would be awesome. That’s totally plausible because it is cheap and inferior. Oh! It would totally blow my mind if it paid for my hosting AND my internet bill. And if it allowed me to quit my job and touch myself all day. Well, you know I would.

Here’s to hoping it doesn’t get out of control.

So p-kitty has the cancer. Lymphoma. She has a mass (tumor?) that is making it hard for her to breathe through her nose. It breaks my heart hearing her struggle to breathe. She could breathe through her mouth, but she chooses not to. I guess that’s how cats roll. Through their noses or bust. I don’t get it. She is on chemo pills for the cancer and steroids to help her breathe. I swear to god, I never thought I would be one of those people. Like when I told you chemo pills were you like, rilly? Rilly? Cuz, I would be. Oh, and we feed her with a syringe. But she’s started to eat on her own lately so hopefully that will stop. It’s a little unnerving; how nurturing I’ve become. It was like, I have this in me? Where do I keep it? I’m trying to be blindly optimistic without being in denial. I wasn’t even going to tell the interwebs because as The Secret taught us, what you speak about you bring about. I KNOW! So fucking cheesy, but I will do anything to keep this cat living a quality life. Including, but not limited to, buying $100 worth of supplements and shit. I dunno man, you can’t judge unless you’ve been there. OK, let’s think positive thoughts. Like…

My mom got my hair done last night before I got on the plane. I was like, Mom, I’m getting pink stripes in my hair. And she was like, No you’re not. -Yes I am. -Not if I’m paying for it. <giggle, giggle> I got my hair done while she was at work. And it’s pink. I’ve never had my hair colored professionally, like professionally primary colored. I’ve always gone to the drug store and made my bathroom the scene of a murder. But it turns out so much nicer when someone who is paid to do it, does it. Mom loves it. She liked it even better as she watched me go through security at the airport and easily spotted me. She called me as I was going up the escalator to the terminal and stalkerishly whispered, I see you, you’re on the escalator. I turned around and we blew each other kisses. I miss Mom, she’s amazing. She’s 56 and working on her bachelor’s degree. How cool is that? She also chastises me for judging people in the same breath that she points out a teetering fat lady in sausage jeans and toothpick stilettos. We watch intently, one day that inappropriately dressed fat lady is going fall and we’ll be ready.

Also, my former co-worker got a sewing machine and it’s the exact same one as mine. No big deal, except that I’m a dork and read her post about getting a noise machine and ran out and bought the exact same one. I’m using it tonight for the first time. I hope it’s as effective as the fan. I love me the fan. What you’re thinking is, So the fuck what? You would be right, I have no point to this. I am just easily amused.

I had a jolly good time in San Diego this Christmas. There were hangovers (totally Sir Chinko’s fault) but there was no peeing on myself or throwing up. And that is what I call a success. Sir Chinko deftly summarizes my non-Mom related experiences here and here.

X is supposed to be in the Santa C next week. I hope she isn’t teasing me like she used to do with the boys back before she was a mondo slut. Except now she is just a slut for Snake. So it’s like it never happened. It’s just because I love you X. And also because I’m terribly jealous of your sexual exploits. Terribly. My point being that I AM SO EXCITED THAT X IS (maybe totally, hopefully?) COMING TO VISIT! Drinking and loud laughing, woot!

Ok, let’s all think about p-kitty’s mass shrinking into the ether and never returning.

The Millionizer has poor boundaries and just spent like 4 hours registering for Yelp. Don’t waste your time, it is easier and more satisfying to just start a whole new blog of your reviews. Because hay-seuss kreesto customizing that shit is impossible. Yelp, fix yo shit.

[tags]lymphoma, yelp, san diego, christmas, inappropriate imagery[/tags]