Renouncing American Citizenship..

Recently, the NYT published an article regarding the notable increase in American (American, as in United States) citizens renouncing their citizenship-- which, while there is surprisingly little paperwork involved (take note Chile), is not something to be taken lightheartedly.  This especially struck a chord with me as yesterday, I was running around the whole stupid city of Santiago working on finalizing my visa that has taken a speedy EIGHT months to be ready.  Having to go to the Extranjería (hell on earth), Policia International-- where I met quite a charming young lady who is planning a party in the hotel-motel-holiday-innnn where I work, and then finally a million and one blocks away to the Registro Civil to get my pic taken for my ID card (don't worry, my eyes kept showing up red so I had to stare directly into a lamp for about 10 minutes straight).  A pain-in-the-ass process where they neglect to inform you that things cost $$$ until you have waited in line for 45 minutes (did I have cash?? no.), and where stinky people breathe all over you, and they have to ink your whole hands to take all your fingerprints.  Dirt-ay.  Nast-ay.  But that is life if you (or urs truly) wants to get yo Chile on and be a real human being.  Which means I'm gonna have to memorize a new RUT.  fml.

Back to the article... The real thing is, is that as much as I seriously think the US is straight up drowning in a pile of its own filthy mire, it would have to take a SERIOUS falling out for me to actually renounce bein' an Amerrricun.  The majority of people who participated in the inquest of the article stated double taxation as their main caveat.  As the piece elaborates: "the United States is the only industrialized country to tax citizens on income earned abroad, even when they are taxed in their country of residence."  So if some day (fingers semi-crossed), I make more than poverty I will have to not only pay American Taxes (me: pay, dad: paperwork, that crap is confusing), but also Chilean//other nation's taxes.  And that can really just go flush itself down the toilet.  And I'm sorry but what the Frak am I even paying taxes for????  I don't drive on pot-hole ridden roads, I (sure as hell) don't have kids in the failing public school system, I don't utilize public works, check out library books, or own property.  I pay taxes to have a Passport that says American Citizen.  I pay taxes to.... Well, I cant even think of anything else so that's really the whole point.  This my friends, is a prime example of TAXATION WITHOUT REPRESENTATION.  Can I vote?  Yes.  But will I see any further benefits from electing an official after mailing in the ballot.  No.  Unless I come back.  Which is questionable. 

But taxes are not the only issue at hand.  For expatriates, according to this article, maintaining an American bank account is becoming more and more arduous and complicated in lieu of the Patriot Act which essentially aims to eliminate tax evasion and, especially, money laundering to terrorist groups.  Yeah, I'll be sure to alert my bank that I'm not a secret member of Al_Kakaka.  To hold onto an American bank account, you must prove that you still have a US address.  Ok.  So does the government think that all 'Mericans living abroad are loaded with cash to be able to own properties in two (or more) distinct nations??  Stupid.  Just stupid.  And as far as numbers are concerned: "502 expatriates gave up their U.S. citizenship or permanent residency status in the last quarter of 2009...more than twice the total for all of 2008...there were 235 renunciations in 2008 and 743 last year (2009)."  I mean, in the grand total of the sheer massive quantity of American citizens, the numbers aren't staggering.  Yet, I feel those winds changing...

Honestly, with the horrific passing of Arizona's new immigration bill, I could see more and more Americans becoming so ashamed of their country that they quit all together (or at least move OUT of Arizona).  I cannot fathom that this bill actually passed when there is so much (empty) preaching about tolerance, equality, and "diversity."  This bill is a racial profiling piece of shit.  Usually, I don't even bother to open links to political news and sites because I find American politics exhausting, inflated, and vomitacious, but after such hype, I felt obligated to self-inform.  I was shocked.

I know this is a tangent from the original topic of Renouncing American Citizenship, but this bill would sure as hell bring me closer to throwing in the towel if I were actually on the brink of removing my American status.  If I weren't enamorada with my LL, weren't committed to our relationship, it wouldn't have bothered me so much.  But I can only imagine in the future going to the states and having him and/or our children interrogated like second class human beings.  I would RAGE.  Probs go to stinky old jail for getting so feisty.  And it's not like he looks thaaaaat Latino (see this post), but still- just the idea of of that happening makes me never want to go back.  Those fools who passed that bill can go straight to hell.

Anyway- this post was kind of all over the place, but it definitely made me think under which circumstances I would want to quit being a citizen of the USA.  I'm feeling like a citizen less and less anyway, so we'll see how that goes in the future...

Thoughts??

Just Call Me Martha.

If you know me, you know that I. Do. Not. cook.  I can make a helluva sauce if the situation arises, but on a daily basis the closest I get to making a "meal" is cooking eggs in a microwave or putting something on a piece of bread.  I have no oven.  And I have no patience.  And, as of yesterday, I have no light in my kitchen.  And I have little motivation to fix it.   So add that shit up and your sum is one worthless Bren_in_a_kitchen (batteries not included, ha).

BUT yesterday I kicked my own cooking ASS and made BY FAR the most amazing soup ever.  I mean, not ever as in the history of the world (dumB), but ever as in in my lifetime that has been made ONLY by me, with no help and no packaged ingredients.  And IN THE DARK.  Pat my own back bitches. 

In case you're interested (especially those of us in Chilito going into winter and freezing our little potitos off (yes I kind of hate all you N. Hemi peeps)), here's whatchu do...  And in the style of one of my fave food Blogs, this recipe is truly half assed-- and there is no need to measure, that's too much work and makes too many dishes to wash.... 

1.  Put some water in a pot on the (turned-on) stove.
2.  Add some mini-bowtie pasta  (or whatever)
3:  Peel (?) a potato, cut it up into edible bites.  Put in pot.
4.  Peel (?) 3 middle-finger-sized carrots, cut, again, into edible bites.  Put in pot. 
5.  Toss in 2 cubes of veggie flavoring.
6.  Toss in some rice.
7.  Cut 3 legs of green onion into little pieces and throw that shit in too.
8.  Add merquén (chile only, sorry) and a few pinches of Rosemary (best spice ever).
9.  Keep mixing and keep adding water cuz all the ingredients are very absorbent.  

Cook until you feel like it's ready.  Serve in a bowl, with a spoon, and it'd be delish to add some fancy kind of bread you buy at a fancy kind of shop, like the pan de cerveza that I bought <--- there. 

Enjoy and dont forget to thank me later.  Cuz I guarantee this will be the only post of this nature ever written on these virtual pages.  :)

Attempt at Being a Music Critic: the "Midnight Juggernauts" at the Caupolicán

I love music. I love music so much I once stood outside for 6 hours during a blizzard to get a prime show position.  I love music so much I'm a DJ by night (Tuesdays to be exact) who spinz tunz even during an earthquake when I thought the studio was gonna crumble me into a human pancake.  My ipod is like a baby (a marsupial baby cuz it's always in my pocket-- kangaRoo style bitches) but better cuz it doesn't poop or cry.  Despite this pasión (hmm there we have a contender for yesterday's post) I have never written a music critique-- never on a disc, on a song, on a band, nothing of the sort.  I've written about concert experiences such as BeyoncÉ and Manu Chao, but not in a critical manner.  The idea of writing about music hasn't really crossed my brain's frontier as I usually prefer to just listen n' jam and humbly assume that no one gives a h00t about my opinion.  And to be honest, I reciprocate the feeling towards other music critics.  Too subjective.  But there's a first for everything and, who knows, I may enjoy it...

So I'm gonna take the liberty to "critique" a "band" from the concert I attended last night with LL.  And I'm actually kinda stoked cuz I definitely have an opinion.....

This particular group was somehow chosen to open for two electronic acts, the first called The Twelves, and the second, a quite rad duo called 2manyDJs.  The previously mentioned pairs spun mad beats, peeps.  If the concert hadn't have started an hour late, if I hadn't have been starving with an achy-breaky back/feet, and if it weren't 3:00 in the morning on a work night (pathetic), I would have danced ma lil heart out.  2manyDJs totally rocked that casbah (or Teatro Caupolicán, if you will).  And I'm not embarrassed to say it was essentially my first electronic show-- nevertheless, (and with LL as a BF) it prob wont be the last.  Digression...

The Aussie "band," called the Midnight Juggernauts, who opened for these two groups, had "nada que ver" with electronic music.   Nothing whatsoever.  Maybe a few attempted mixes, attempted slides and laser-y sounds.  They ever-so-eloquently describe their "sound" as: anything from 'prog dance meets cosmic film scores, to slasher-flick disco to deadpan landscape.  I would peg them undoubtedly as "deadpan landscape" with no originality or personality to elevate them from the monotonous and unsexily breathy lead vocals.  Now, it could be attributed to the acoustics of the theater-- doubtful seeing as the following two acts sounded superb.  It was literally one bad one-toned song after another.  OH- and lest I forget their GAPING all-too-obvious David Bowie obsession and :( attempt at re-creation.  Arsher- you would have died.  I was laughing the entire two opening songs just thinking of you and the horror that would undoubtedly flush crimson across your face upon first musical utterance.  The first song was clearly intended to portray some kind of  illusionary musical talent with the Bowie-esque vocals.  But the SECOND song was LITERALLY a cut and unholy copy of "China Girl."  Minus the twangy Asian-inspired 80's grove and the "oh oh oh ohhhoo" it was THE SAME.  I couldn't make out if he was actually saying "oh little China Girl" because of his inability to enunciate and remove himself from the only octave to which his voice pertains, but it was damn close- that's for sure.

As if the uninhibited impersonation of a rock icon weren't enough, they had the audacity to ape the band we all know and love from 7th grade dances: Savage Garden.  If you think I'm joking, think to your self:  how on earth could I make up this comparison?  Who even remembers Savage Garden?¿?  But the rhythm behind the indecipherable vocals was so similar to the "chick-a-cherry cola" song (don't even pretend like you don't remember it) that a natural flood of memories rushed through my conscious and thus landed on this other Aussie duo's track from their self-titled and "unforgettable" debut disc.

Apparently they saved their most "famous" song, "Vital Signs(?)," for last which was obvious because it was the most poppy, or shall I say less "deadpan landscape," than the other songs they put us though.  As if they were hoping to leave a lasting rockable impression on what I'm sure were many impressionable hipster_wannabes.  But, friends, if there is one thing that is semi-universally well known is that the first impression is always the most important (right mom/HR?!).  And you can't just play a shitty set and expect people to coerce to your craptastic crooning by plopping a peppy tune as your exit nears.  It just doesn't work that way.  At least not for me.  Call me judgemental.  But that's what "music critics" are here to do, right?  Just testing the waters......

I'm usually not this negative, really.  And if I had even the slightest background knowledge or were well-versed in comparative abilities among the electronic genre, I would give 2manyDJs a stellar review.  They deserved it.  Their set was artistic and interesting, and mixes entertaining but approachable-- yet not too conventional.  7.8/10. Plus they projected a giant face of Nic Cage for like 5 minutes... and played a rockin Zombie Nation which is a surefire way to win a ZAG-ette's heart.

There you go.
How did I do?

Passions/Dreams

After a few particularly "slow" days in the office, I am coming yet again to the conclusion that I have little patience for sitting around in an office waiting for something inspiring to come my way.  I left work yesterday and walked and walked and walked thinking about what I really love, what would be my ideal, truly ideal job/career.  Happiness (for me) is not being chained to a desk staring at a computer, asking for permission to go outside, feeling guilty if I take a 45 minute lunch, being uninspired thus forcing a dulling of the brain..  Just doesn't do it for me.

My exact problem is, is that I dont know where my passions actually lie.  The only thing I could imagine is when I reminisced back to my High School years where I spent hours upon hours, early morning after late night, in the art studio, in the dark room- creating, blossoming, not noticing that a day had come and gone.  That may have been the only time where I have felt a true passion for what I had been doing.  I wanted to go to art school.  Obviously that didn't happen (where on earth would I be it if had??), but I truly believe that everything happens for a reason, every event and decision leads you to your destiny.  In idea, an interview, etc.....

So where is this Chilean path leading me now?   I've stopped attempting to guess my fortunes and plan my future to the most minute detail, so that's not really the point.  The point is: where do I go from here?  Where will this path take me?  Really, the only place I want to be guided is to something that will ignite my fire like those days in the studio.  Having no direction makes it a tad more complicated, a bit more difficult.  But at this point, I'm totally interested in exploring all of my options.  All of my passions.

And as lame and surface-level it may sounds, I took a lil' test yesterday on some generic job website that actually rang pretty true with my personality and tastes.  The following response was spat out:
  

Life as an INTJ  

(Intravert, Intuitive, Thinker, Judger)

People of this type tend to be autonomous, aloof and intellectual; imaginative, innovative, and unique; critical, analytical and logical; intellectually curious, driven to learn and increase their competence and knowledge; socially cautious and reserved; organized and definitive.

The most important thing to INTJs is their independence and being able to live according to their own standards. 

Great careers for INTJs

Here are just a few popular and often satisfying careers for people whose Personality Type is INTJ:

• Intellectual property attorney
• News analyst
• Design engineer
• Biomedical researcher
• Network integration specialist
• Software developer
• Psychiatrist
• Cardiologist
• Freelance writer
• Media planner
• Chief Financial Officer
• Webmaster
• Architect
• Desktop publishing specialist

 Hmm.  At some point pre-college, I toyed with the idea of being an intellectual property lawyer.  But my intuition tells me that going to law school would more than likely explode in my face (and wallet).  Among the others that I've previously considered are: news analyst (anything analyst, dig it), Freelance writer (mmm ideal, I would love it, but how the grand-old-F would I get started in the field), Media Planner (for sho would like this), and when I was 13-15 I was sure I was going to be an architect-- I cant even tell you the number of badass dream houses I designed on Lou-fam roadtrips... 

So we have some potential.  Grad school is definitely an option.  Have thought about doing a degree in Consumer Psychology but it is quite an elusive program to track down.  I don't know.  I just wish there was someone/thing that would TELL me what it is I would be best at, what it is I would be most content doing... 

Anyone.... Anyone...????

 Or I could just chalk it all up, go to med-school and be a Cardiologist.  Plan B. 

I Murered the Most Resilient Bug Ever.

Though the title is somewhat self explanatory, I feel that my lack of presence in the blog-o-world warrants a vivid, first-hand telling of how I killed this creature that might have been God in disguise.  Because, people. the thing literally would not die.  Having smashed, whacked, poked (forcefully..) and dispensed of "it," those little legs did not cease to wander, its tentacles never terminated until the (??) end.  I am hence
worried about my karmic forthcomings....

So- I wake up in my usual groggy (I sleepy a solid 8 hours almost every night and still am unable to drag my pj'd ass outta bed at 6:52am... pathetic), unamused state and head to the baño to take a shower.  Upon opening the door, I am faced with a ginormous black beetle-y-cricket-sort-of-thing and mutter an annoyed "goddamnittt."  Carouse over to the kitchen and arm myself with my lime-green broom and matching dustpan (whud up now Martha).  Not. In. The. Mood. To be playing early morning ghost busters.  But I assume the appalling challenge and take some pathetic, sleepy swings and smashes at the thing as it conveniently cowers for its life behind the toilet.  Just to the degree to which the broom cannot reach.  Great.  "So, you're a clever SOB, huh?"

I semi-force it out of hiding as it scurries towards the trashcan.  This is not pretty.  And now I'm pissed off.  Okay so my attempted murder gets a tad more vengeful and I finally whack that f-er into what I thought would be its last breath.  Dispose of the remains in the bathroom trashcan, thinking, I'm over this shit, will deal with it when I get home.  Stupid idea.  Shower and forget about homicide exhibit A. 

Come home from work TEN HOURS LATER.  Go about my business and whatnot and it comes to my attention that there is yet another beetle of the same shape and color just chillin' on the wall near the dresser.  Really?  An infestation??  Disgruntled family member seeking revenge?  No and No (t yet).  I glimpse a little butterfly (hair??) clip that I managed to throw into the trash (like I would wear that eew) with said creature in the AM, RIGHT NEXT to the beetle on the wall!!!  That resilient son of a bitch crawled it's self OUT of the trashcan, clear across the room (not really that far, we are still talking in PollyP terms, peeps), and onto the wall WITH A BUTTERFLY CLIP ATTACHED TO ITSELF.  A real feat of nature.  Really.  And can you imagine what that must have looked like??  A mangled beetle sporting a nice lil pre-death accessory.  Morbid, I know.  (Have I mentioned that I'm like really cool, lately???). 

I almost didn't wanna finish it off.  Like, I was so impressed.  Really.  While smashing it into the corner saying, "Sorry but Die you SOB!  Sorry!" I felt soooo good about myself... not.  I really though I'd killed it by then.  It had shriveled up to like 1/8 of it's original monstrous size and I took a breath of relief.  Return cute broom to kitchen only to find the miracle-bug scampering away towards the sofa. ARE YOU SERIOUS!?!  Snatch broom and dustpan, jab at it a few more times and then scoop that sucker into the dust pan and THROW THAT SHIT OUT THE WINDOW.  NO MORE SNEEK ATTACKS YOU BUG OF GOD. 

So now, I'm almost 100% sure that it's gonna come back to get me and when it does, it will not be pretty...

This is my life.  I. Am. So. Cool.

Stupid.

Dearest dudes--

We, ladies, can't help but think you're a tad slighted in the mental department when you respond to us in the following manner:

Brenz: Hey, I'll be right back, I just gotta run to the pharmacy and buy some allergy medicine-- my eyes are driving me crazy and my nose wont stop running.

Dude in my Office: Are you pregnant???

Stupidity at its finest/most ignorant.  Come on guys..... Come. ON.

On another note, I have been an entirely worthless blogger lately because my oh-so-sweetly siphoned internet connection has been sabotaged by a changed password.  Damn.  But I have a hilarious post in mind so bear wif meh.  And keep stup comments to a minimum.  :)