VACATION!!!!!

I'm taking off for a couple of days. I'm going on a much needed vacation so I won't be posting anything any time soon. Don't fret though cuz I'll return with some interesting stuff, at least I'll try. I'll leave you with this clip. Let's see how my 'quest for fun' goes...I hope I don't end up like Clark. 

Adieu

The ending is never really sweet, is it? Point out an ending that didn’t sting. But it’s a cycle, a never ending cycle, that comes and goes and we’re all made to be able to withstand the comings and goings. There is a particular guy that recently made somewhat of a dent in my life; one of the many that I carry inside.

He waltzed in at a time when I was wandering around aimlessly. I basically bumped into him and from then on, he’s been one of the 'consistent' ones in the picture. We’re friends, that’s all we’ve ever been. Perhaps at the beginning there had been the chance, the possibility, of something more but somehow it was washed out with the passing of time. He’s a good guy; the positive qualities he carries are way too many to point out right now. Besides, I’m supposed to be focusing on the negative, that way it won’t hurt as much. But there’s a reason for everything and he had a purpose in my life.


Things have changed, I have changed, and so his exit from my life is coming. I can feel it. It’s like the smell of wet dirt before the rain actually arrives; his departure is eminent. Had we been real, true friends, there’d be no need for such a thing. But since we never really have been, and the chance doesn’t really exist, this separation is necessary.

Through written words, I’m an open book. Ask me in person to explain everything I write, you won’t hear much. You’ll get the runaround. It was the same I received with him. ‘Real’ didn’t have a place in our friendship. I didn’t even get to know who he really was. His past, his goals, his dreams…things even basic friends would know about each other; I didn’t know anything about him.

It’s the way of the world. Changes shift circumstances and he doesn’t belong in my future because he’ll do more harm than help me. I gotta face the music at some point. Besides, a year has been more than enough.

"I know it's over, 
And it never really began,
But in my heart it was so real" 

Go Blue!!!

I thought I'd give you a lil update as to how our softball escapade has been going. There's about six games left till the season is done. Sorry to say that we haven't won a single game.


yup, those are sweat stains...y eso que we played a 9:30pm game

Well, the only game that was won was a game where my team had to forfeit. The other team agreed to a friendly game and my team ended up winning. Unfortunately, I didn't attend that game cuz I was off frolicking in San Antonio. Yea, my teammates weren't all that happy, especially since we were short just one player, but they got over it and allowed me to continue playing (goes to show how desperate they were).

Even though we're on a continuous losing strike, I look forward to the games. They're fun, entertaining, and a great stress reliever. It's even become somewhat of a family affair since one of my brothers joined the team. It's supposed to be a business team but there are only four actual employees playing. The other members are friends, family members, or last minute substitutes.

One of my friends, who plays second base, recently confided in me that when she's waiting for the other team's batter to hit, she's telling herself "I am speed, I am speed, I am speed" over and over in her head. She says it sikes her up and gets her ready for the hit. Yes, she's a mom  so I understand the cartoon reference but really? I always thought she was seriously focused on the game awaiting any move the other team made and there she is...relying on a cartoon to provide her with courage. Oh well, I guess we all have our quirks.

I usually play catcher or somewhere on the outfield. I'm not good, not at all. Most of the time I miss the flys and the grounders get away from me BUT I have somewhat mastered the art of hitting the ball. Yes, I must say I can get the ball at least clear over shortstop. It don't mean that I'll get to first base before the ball gets there but at least I try.

So, I'm hoping for a win this season. At least one, then I can go into the off season content knowing a team, with a whole bunch of girls, won a game. There have been a couple of games where the wives of the other team players have started with their heckling. It's annoying, especially when all I wanna do is throw the ball right at them. I mean, gimme a break, if they thought they could do so much better, why aren't they on the field? It's part of the game, I know, but still...you'd think they give us silly girls some credit.

Anyways, I'll update again when we're done with the games. It's been fun so far and I haven't gotten hurt...just my pride but I'm kinda getting used to it. As long as I don't hear any of these insults, I think I'll be able to finish the season without getting into a brawl.

Stay tuned.

867-5309

"Jenny I got your number, I need to make you mine, Jenny don't change your number"

Believe it or not, I did call Jenny this past weekend. No, ladies and gentlemen, I was not calling for a good time. I dialed due to some peer-pressure from family members.

My family got together to have a giant carñe asada, which had not happened in years, and the conversation got gooood. In fact, 867-5309 came up randomly and my tia said that a voice recording would answer if I called. So there I go, dialing, hoping no one would answer. I ended up hearing: 'Hey this is Jenny, 867-5309, leave a message.'

Of course, I didn't leave a message. I'm pretty sure the number doesn't really belong to anyone but I didn't want to take the chance. Yes, this probably isn't new, but since I'm so outta the loop, it was new to me.

The phrase 'it's totally perpendicular' also came up. According to my tia, it meant the same thing as 'that's so cool'. I had never heard the phrase and she ain't too far along her years, but she said she would use it a lot back in the early 80s. I thought it was cool so if I start using it, now you know where it came from.

Another tia let me know that when she was younger, she would string tiny bells onto her shoelaces. Era la moda when she was a kid. Now that, I thought, was useful. I think I'm gonna do that with my lil girl, that way I'll always know where she's at (not that I'm careless with her, but things happen).

All in all, it was a totally perpendicular weekend. I just hope Jenny doesn't have ID caller and calls back. I wouldn't know what to tell her.

My Discussion with a Seven-Year-Old

"Ma'am, Nixon rules, so I'm choosing the colors green and yellow." He was working on a craft project.

"Alright, go ahead. Hey, I graduated from Martin. What do you think about that?" I smiled at him, expecting the usual 'Martin sucks' response.

"Martin is ghetto, ma'am," as he gave me a disgusted look.

I laughed because I didn't really expect that response. "But I'm not ghetto and I graduated from Martin."

Again he says, "Martin is ghetto" and changes the subject with another question "Hey, ma'am, do you shop at Hollister?"

I let the Martin issue slide. "Nope. I don't shop at the mall. I shop at Wal-Mart."

"Wal-Mart is ghetto," is his immediate response.

"Okay," I giggle, "What does ghetto mean to you?"

"It means lame. Like pulgas are lame, and going downtown is lame too."

"Oh, so you've never been to the pulga or gone downtown?"

"Pos, yeah, but they're still lame."

I can't help but laugh because I know for a fact that frequent shopping sprees at the mall are a luxury his family can't afford (who can really?). "Okay then. So where do you do your grocery shopping?"

"Ugh, at H-E-B. Duh!" Again, he shoots me his look of disgust.

"Oh, I thought you shopped at Super S," now I'm just picking on him.

"No way! Super S is really ghetto!"

Gotta love them kiddos.

**I love Super S and their over priced food, permanently sticky floors, and that unforgettable smell that permeates the air...but I can't really say I disagree with his last comment.

It's nice to converse with someone who is still innocent and hasn't yet been distorted by the world. I wish I was a kid again.

A Sweet Morning

Whenever my pan dulce fix needs to be fed, I’m usually not the one to actually go and buy bread. I wait around until my lovely co-workers stop by and pick up something on their way to work, or I go and visit my dad cuz he always has sweet bread on hand.

A couple of weeks ago, my friend (aka Accomplice 1) stopped by my office with her pink bread box and started talking about the bakery guy. There she stood, eyes aglow, her smile stretched from ear to ear, gushing around the guy behind the glass windows.

My friend is happily married and has never been the type to stray or even glance at other men, so I was a bit surprised this was coming from her. Curiosity caught the best of us, Accomplice 2 and me, and we decided to go pay this amazing bakery boy a visit (frankly, the tacos were also screaming my name).

We walked into the bakery, expecting this gorgeous specimen that surpassed all other ‘average’ guys and came upon this quiet, normal-looking young man. He looked the same as other guys. Feeling a bit disappointed, Accomplice 2 and I started to make our selections when he smiled at us and asked us what we wanted. If melting on the spot was possible, we would’ve become puddles on the floor. His smile was so sweet and so genuine; it was extremely hard not to smile right back. Accomplice 2, who’s usually very calm and cool, started giggling…which I had never heard her do!

He was A-MA-ZING. I fought hard to quiet my sighs and made sure I didn’t stare at him. I can’t directly pinpoint what it was about this guy that literally made our mornings a bit brighter. If I had to point out something, it’d be that there’s a sense of innocence about him. He seemed so sincere, and seemed to really love his work. Two traits that aren’t common in anyone nowadays.

After paying and walking out of the bakery, I then understood why, usually-reserved Accomplice 1, turned into a giggling school girl with this guy. He’s really was unlike any other person I’d ever come across.

This local bakery has always been a family fav, and now it seems I may be stopping to buy bread myself. What’s even cooler…the bakery is blocks away from where I live. Sweet!

A Short Story

Therapy

She stood at the airport terminal, bags in tow, and waited to check in for her flight. She was tired and it had nothing to do with her physically. It saddened her to realize that all her earthly belongings fit in three medium-sized suitcases. Five years had amounted to some baggage, a pricey airplane ticket, and a hollowed out woman. At least the blinders were officially off.  

She sat down in her window seat and tuned out as the other passengers got on. All that kept running through her head were the lyrics to John Denver’s tune: “I’m leaving on a jet plane, don’t know when I’ll be back again”. It wasn't going to be soon, she reminded herself, hopefully this time it was finally over.

When she arrived back home, she didn’t feel anything. There was no pain, regret, fear, or even optimism. There was an overall haze of numbness, which she fiercely embraced. She was a journalist by profession but didn’t feel ready to start writing stories like she had before. Her work had been suffering for so long; it was amazing that she still was able to find a job. She accepted something she could comfortably deal with: obituaries. It suited her because there was always work to be done and there was little need for interaction with others. The appreciation for life didn’t set in like it probably should’ve; she was too frozen to notice what surrounded her.

Whenever afforded the chance, she'd force herself to go out and participate in the social world. Most ties with her 'old' life had long been broken but there were a couple of people that had hung on. Her intentions to go out were to make sure she didn't completely isolate herself in her own misery. Finding a suitor was the very last thing on her mind. Without much effort, her defenses had already kicked into full gear which made her unappetizing to men.

Conversation, the simple need to communicate with another person, was what mattered right now, and there were only a couple of people that understood her. Sarcasm tended to make it hard to connect with others, and her black demeanor made it almost impossible for others to deal with her. But months after her separation, she started to feel an intense need to get rid of his taste; to rid her body of his presence. It started with one guy.

There were no intentions of dating or a possibility of anything else. The sweetness and hopefulness of romance had long ago faded. There was one reason why this guy was on top of her and it had nothing to do with like, love, or even lust. The only reality was that she was no longer his. After the first guy, a couple more followed. Again, a relationship was never an option but she needed to show that no one owned her. Her mission had been accomplished. She was tainted and it wasn't only to him. She was ruined for every single guy she crossed paths with. No one wanted to have a whore as a serious anything, much less as a wife. She was making damn sure that no sane guy would ever be interested.

She didn’t really enjoy these sessions.  Most guys weren’t even good enough to be friends with. They served one purpose and that was all she cared about. They didn’t matter to her. The heart she once had, had been turned to stone. The guys she would share her bed with weren't strangers. She was impulsive at times, but never stupid. Most of them were ‘repeaters’ as well; it took too much time recruiting bed mates who understood the rules. Eventually they no longer had identities; they all faded into one being. They were used as a mere representation of her twisted revenge. Revenge she meant to inflict on him. 

While on her knees, sucking these guys off, her thoughts wandered off elsewhere. While on her back, she said what was appropriate without really giving it much effort. She'd make sure to say the right name and promise him that he was fantastic at what he was doing. In truth, she didn’t really feel anything. She would robotically obey their instructions. They’d cum and she’d leave, sometimes physically satisfied, most of the time not. When she’d shower afterwards, she never felt clean but it had nothing to do with them, it was all her. The marked breasts, the rug-burned knees, the sore legs, the bruised lips…without her knowledge, they had started to wear away at her shell.

It went on like that for a good two years. The deadness was a strong barrier that didn’t let much seep in. She didn’t realize that she had slowly started to come apart at the seams. The lyrics that were on constant loop in her head "I find it kinda funny, I find it kinda sad, the dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had". I guess Tears for Fears were on to something, she thought.

Lady Backs It Up

A cousin of mine had sent me the link to this video a while ago. I absolutely love it. It's a true story about a robbery at some store in some state (ok, I didn't pay attention to the details). The lady's recount of the event already sounds kinda funny to begin with. Then with the magic that can be done with editing, mixing music, and all these technological stuff that are completely beyond my knowledge, you end up with the following:

To say that it's hilarious is really putting it lightly. Even my dad, who's sense of humor is a bit more conservative, thought it was funny. I've seen the video a whole bunch of times, more than I'd like to admit, just to hear the song. I can't seem to get enough of it. Now, thanks to my brother, I have a clip of the song as my ring tone. 

I never said I was cool, so you really shouldn't be surprised.

Prison Area

FYI: be careful with hitchhikers wearing Bermuda shorts. They might be more dangerous than they look.



Somewhere along I-35





**Borrowed from a friend. The stupid things we do when we're bored.**

Confessions

About a month ago, I started to notice that life was getting to be a bit much for me. I don't know when it all crept in but pretty soon I found myself in a pretty deep funk. Usually before these type of episodes, there will be some kind of trigger. Something went wrong with a relationship, financial obstacles, work-related incident...something. What worried me this time was that there was nothing I could pinpoint and say 'this is what's bothering me'. I can't say that I've ever been confronted with such a predicament. It was scary.

The reality was that it had all finally caught up with me. I guess you can only run so far before you trip and fall.  I'm not into sharing too much info on myself, partly because I don't want to bore you and partly because, even if I tried to explain, it wouldn't really make much sense. The way I had managed to survive at the beginning was not working out for me anymore. I had coped with certain issues in my life by permanently setting them on the back burner. I didn't think about them. I worked a lot, was out and about with my lil girl, and was always visiting family members or friends. I was still living at home at the time, so that afforded me some distraction as well. There was always something going on and I didn't allow myself much time to sit and analyze. It worked pretty well...a bit toooo well. So when things slowed down a bit at work, I moved into my own place, and random visits to family/friends tapered off, it allowed the tidal waves of repressed emotions to coming crashing in. And boy did they crash in.

The thing I fought the most was the fact that I wasn't going to be able to handle this one by myself. I'm a reserved person and asking for help isn't easy for me. A lot of people don't really know me. Apart from not giving off the best first impressions, my dark sarcasm is a very had pill to swallow for a variety of people in my life. I can try to say that I attempt to control it but in reality, I really can't. It comes out naturally and many people don't understand it, can't deal with it, and just plain hate it. To apologize would mean that I knowingly did something wrong, so I rarely if ever do. Again, it's a defense mechanism that manifested itself without my knowing. But if there is a silver lining to this dark cloud, it's that I wasn't always like this. At some point in time, I was pleasant. I allowed vulnerability to exist. I wasn't always embracing the 'I'll get you before you get me' mentality.

But sometimes there will be that one person that will forever impact your life. It really just takes one freakin person to cloud your view on everything. Sometimes it's impossible to come back from some situations unscathed. And so, I went through what I went through and I did get through it. But I ain't the same as before and I guess that's what finally caught up to me. My way of living, thinking, existing, which were so foreign to me just a while back, have become so second nature, I've intertwined myself in something that I really am not.

So, I was forced to face all my truths...all that my life had turned into. It was not pretty, it was not easy to accept, it was not at all fun, and it's not over. Well, at least I have a freakin starting point. The only thing that really, truly scares me is to eventually find out that the person that existed before I met the devil incarnate, died a while back. Then I honestly don't know where that'd leave me because the person I am now isn't even the real me. It looks like it's gonna be a long road back home.

El FUAAAAAA

About a week ago, I started seeing a lot of Facebook 'friends' posting comments including the word 'fuaaa'. Usually their statuses included partying hard and getting drunk. But I didn't fully understand what the word meant or where it even came from. I asked around and everyone directed me to a video on YouTube. This is the explanation I ran into:

I may be a bit behind with this and I may be completely misguided but this is what my research turned up. From my understanding, Fuaaa is a form of expression to release some sort of emotion and it's been used a lot at Mexico's soccer games. Or it's also another way to spit at somebody. The guy in the video is pretty entertaining but I'm not all to sure I'd give some random drunk guy tooooo much credit. Then again, it has caused quite a ruckus in the Tweeter and Facebook world. Maybe he's on to something....

Or maybe we're fascinated with any little thing nowadays. Makes ya wonder, huh?

UPDATE:

Friends have been texting me, asking whether the 'Tweeter' thing was on purpose. Sorry to say it wasn't. For some reason, I thought it was 'Tweeter' instead of the actual Twitter. So sue me, I don't subscribe to it. Might be an indicator that I'm getting old. Like when my mom would call Snoop Dogg, Snoopy Dog and we'd be shocked that she didn't know how to say it correctly. Oh well.

Rain at the Red Roof

It started with a slight mist that turned into a light drizzle. Slowly the dry pavement started to moisten up. It had been a while since the last rainstorm. The twisting and twirling of the wind commenced. The thunder started rolling, over and over. Heaving rain started to pour, as a thick thunderbolt continued to strike the parched ground. For the torment that it carried, this storm could’ve easily been confused with a hurricane. It reached a peak of frenzied activity…the lightening bolt carried a strong current, the thunder encouraged things along, the rain slickened the situation up nicely, until finally the storm broke. The relief's scent was in the air.

The spell was finally broken.

Jail Mail

They had been coming through the mail for a couple of months already. She wasn't the type to wait around for anything and she certainly didn't wait around for that. Whenever she had time, she'd stop by the house and see whether anything important had come for her. Nothing ever did, at least she didn't consider those things important.

Looking at the envelopes, she'd imagine what the mailman would think upon delivering these letters into the mailbox. He'd probably think she was pining away for him. He'd probably think the poor guy was holding on to whatever he could in the outside world. It didn't really matter to her. She tried to feel some kind of embarrassment but she really couldn't.She didn't care what anyone thought; she knew what she felt deep inside.

She took her favored seat for such occasions and proceeded to open the new delivery. It was the same stuff as in prior letters: 'please pray for me', 'be careful of what you do', 'make sure you take care of our son', 'we're gonna be so happy when I get out', 'I never did whatever it was that they charged me with'...blah, blah, blah. To say that these words had any kind of impact on her would've been a giant lie. Now they just seemed to be her personal weekly comic strip that traveled from a distance. But there was one thing that made this letter a bit different from the other ones.

'I need you to write to the parole board, babe. Let them see what a good person I am. Make them understand that I have to be out there because you need me to help you raise our son. Tell them that there is no one there to help you but me. Tell them of how much you really need me.'

At first she really couldn't believe what she was reading. Could it really be true? Was he freakin serious? 'Tell them how much you really need me.' Rage came in at the next instance. To think, all this time she had been the one raising her son. She had been the one to finally get her own place, she had been the one to buy her son clothes, shoes, toys, anything he needed; she was the one that took him out of town for vacations, paid for all his medical necessities, paid his daycare, spent her days making sure that he was okay...and they were doing just fine. Yet this guy, this loser, thought that she really needed him.

He had gone on to provide her with the parole board number and a place where she could send him money. Never, not once, had he ever been able to provide for their child and yet he expected her to provide for him. She put the letter down, having read every  ridiculous word. Had he been in front of her, she probably would've laughed in his face. She had never needed him. Now, more than ever, he was not a necessary (or welcomed) part of her, or her son's, lives.

She turned to go and get her phone. She dialed the ten digit number and asked to speak about him. She was going to tell them exactly what they needed to hear, which was going to contradict everything he had asked her to say. Wasn't the saying:  the truth shall set you free? In this case, the truth would probably keep him in for a long time but she would finally embrace freedom.

Labyrinth

I saw the movie back in the early 90s, when it was already out on VHS. I remember sitting on my grandma’s living room floor. My brothers, cousins and I were so into the movie, we didn’t realize that it was mid-summer and we didn’t have a water cooler in the room. We were so fascinated by the puppets, the singing, the characters, the concept…who cared if sweat kept rolling down our faces.

A couple of days back, I ran into the movie on Netflix. I started it, just looking to catch a glimpse of my childhood, when I found myself sitting through the entire movie.The fact that I don't have a sophisticated taste in movies is apparent, but Labyrinth is special. It strokes a chord in my poor, beaten up heart.

I watched it at my brother’s house and he was unwillingly sucked into the viewing as well. When it was over and done with all he could say was, “I just couldn’t keep my eyes off of David Bowie’s crotch. I think it deserved its own movie credit.” When I was little, such a thing completely escaped me. I have to admit, though, that I had a tiny crush on him. Ask me why and I can't really pinpoint what made him so intriguing....might explain my dating history…an issue for another day. Anyways, looking at it now, Bowie’s crotch really was a star in its own right.

come on! he was gorgeous!

A basic plot of the movie can be found here. During the beginning of the movie, there's a line that recently came to mind: "Goblin King, Goblin King, wherever you may be, take this child of mine far away from me." I was having a difficult time  getting my daughter to go to bed and I found myself thinking of that line.  It was the most random thing ever. I hadn't seen the movie in years but for some reason, the flashback just popped up. I didn’t end up saying it. Not necessary cuz I was worried it would really happen but more so cuz I couldn’t remember the darn line. I know, pathetic, but that's the impact Labyrinth left on me.  

So as I sat there, on comfy couches, in a well air-conditioned living room, watching the movie on a 50’ plasma TV, with my daughter by my side, it was a far cry from the scene back in the day but the feeling was the same. I was surrounded with family, laughing at all the parts we laughed at back then, and we embraced the joy of letting go of reality for a couple of hours. Albeit, Bowie’s crotch caught our attention a bit more than before, but in the end it was a couple of hours well spent. 

Ah, the 90s were exquisite.

I'll be back soon.