Jasmine + Fernan

by Valerie on Tuesday, July 15, 2014


You know, when I met Jazzy it was my first day at the big, bad galleria. I remember walking into the cafeteria and it felt like high school all over again. Very clique-y with all the ate’s sharing their food along the corner booths. The jocks and bodybuilders were watching the game on t.v.. The cool kids always sat outside in the smoking section. I remember not knowing anybody at all – let alone where to sit. And from behind Jaz was like,

“Val, come sit here with me.”

And I remember thinking, whoa, how does she know my name? And maybe feeling a little embarrassed that I didn’t know hers yet. But I was like,

“ok, I’m just gonna go grab my food.”

On my way back from the refrigerator I find her pushing our two tables together to make we sat THISCLOSE to each other and how warm and fuzzy it made me feel after watching her do that.

She’d always extend the invitation to go running along Tumon after work so we don’t get stuck in rush hour traffic. Or she’ll remember what your favourite fragrance is and slip you a bottle from her allowance poorly wrapped in old newspaper in the locker room. But anyway, that’s just a testament to the kind of thoughtful character Jazzy has. People always talk about the elusive heart of gold, but Jazzy with her little gestures gives you a real glimpse of it.

Congrats to Jazzy and Fernan! We wish you guys all the love in the world, even though it was inside of you from the start.

What Happened to You?

by Valerie on Friday, November 1, 2013

I’m not finished.

Miss Pacificana 2012

by Valerie on Wednesday, December 19, 2012

This one night we are all hanging in my living room. I tell her she would be the perfect contestant on RuPaul’s Drag Race because Reena asks the most original questions.

She says, “If you ever get preggars, can I be your kid’s ninona?”

I say, “What’s a ninona?”

“A nino and a nina,” she says.

ariba mexico


And the readings — just listen to what she has to say if I fail to show up to her last invite.

“Did you bring the aloe vera?”

“Aloe vera?” I’m confused. “For what?”

She gives me a sharp stare and says, “for my 3rd degree burns.”

backstage passes


fabulous hair days

ai chihuahua

It’s ok, booboo. You’re still a winner in my heart.

Say Wut?

by Valerie on Thursday, July 19, 2012

According to Wu-Tang’s name generator, from this day forward I will also be known as Sarkastik Worlock.

It’s an ironic nickname, okay.


by Valerie on Tuesday, May 1, 2012

“The way to remember how to say ‘you’re welcome’ in Japanese” Kaoru san says, “is ‘don’t touch my moustache.'” After Hope admits she’s taken to Asian men, Kaoru san says, “you riiiike tofuuu?” She says to me, “we are soul mates,” and I believe every word.

We are talking about boys and, “how obvious is that guy from security? He keeps passing by your counter. You know that guy is checking you out?”

“What guy? It’s his job to make rounds,” I say

“That’s what I thought, but you were on one side and he was staring at you while you were helping the customers and then you went to the other side, I dunno, I think to get the merchandise or something and he went out of his way to get to the other side too. And then you went back, and he went back too.”

“Who is this guy? Do I know him?”

“He’s a handsome guy, tall, kinda dark complexion.”

“You mean the guy with the huge Hispanic butt?”

Kaoru san says she was married for 20 years, but now they are separated because you can’t domesticate a Latino. I ask her what’s her type of guy and is she looking for someone new? She says, no she’s not looking. “I’m too old to start over again.”

I say, “you’re never too old for love. I guess it’s just a matter of finding it.”

She talks of her dog, “my Hanachan, gives me enough love… But I like an intelligent man. Maybe one with a heart of gold.”

I tell her, “oh, that sounds like just my type, too,” and think about playing something from Neil Young.

I’m changing the c.d. for our counter music. I ask her does she prefer to listen to anything else in particular and she says, “anything is fine with me, except rap… I don’t really care much for rap.”

I say, “not all rap is bad, yea know. Like Outkast is pretty alright.”

And Kaoru san, this kind little Japanese lady says in the tiniest most agreeable tone of voice, “oh yeah, some is okay… I just don’t like the one’s that are like, ‘da booteh’ and ‘da bitches.'”


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