Sometimes I just don’t understand why people are such pantywaists about race and culture. I used to be a really militant pantywaist myself.

This brings me to a conversation on Yelp SF about “WP who love PINOYS” that my “white chick” office buddy Charlene came up with. (”WP” meaning “white people,” not WordPress, by the way. *cough*) While I could go into one of my normal brown-fist-raised tirades, I just sort of step back. Not that I’m now indifferent to the issue, but there comes a time where you sort of roll it off your back while you gauge the level of the situation’s ignorance. And if so, I say, respond with an equally appropriate insult. Fair?

I’m just prejudiced against the stupid and ignorant in people, not the snarky — because that stuff is kinda fun and funny because there is truth involved. Otherwise, why would it be so funny in the first place? Ah yes, it’s because “Everyone’s a Little Bit Racist.”

Here’s a Bronx tale for you, while I’m at it. That kept my head wagging back and forth exclaiming “Oof!” for a while.

Taken by Kevin Cheng, posted to Flickr.

VIDEO 1 & VIDEO 2: Actually, I wasn’t going to play at all on Monday night because I was in a crappy mood and had 3 hours of sleep. But then, I changed my mind and felt bad I had decided not to play because a bunch of friends showed up. (Even sorority sisters I hadn’t seen in like 6-8 months, maybe more!) You can view video that George took of an original song and me covering The Cranberries’ “Linger” (because we were in an Irish pub, durr) and goofing. (Thank you, George!) I think that the videos don’t show how much I was freaking out inside, but if you came out — thank you. I was a ball of nerves, but you all are the only reason I decided to play anyway.

I should have posted this much earlier (and it’s probably on purpose), but I’m going to be playing at Ireland’s 32 tomorrow night at like, 9:30PM or so — guitar and singing and all. I haven’t played out since I left New York mainly because I haven’t been practicing as much as I’d have liked to in the past couple of years. But I guess it’s always the same story with me and playing music — when I have to muster the stones to play and belt out really personal lyrics (and songs that I wrote from other points in my life that don’t necessarily reflect what I feel anymore), I become incredibly self-conscious.

Regardless, if you do stop by, I will buy you a pint to make it worthwhile. And you can heckle me, because you know that I’d do the same to you.

Thanks to my New York sistuh Sam for forcefully asking me to kill some time before she makes it to the bar at 10:30PM; I hope I don’t chicken out at the last minute. Also rumored to play: The phenomenal George Kelly, folks. So get your butt on down there tomorrow night — in the meantime, I hope I don’t vomit on my shoes from all the anxiety I feel.