Wednesday, June 20, 2012

'nam

First day of Summer.
You can't hear me, but I just sighed... for about ten consecutive seconds.
My head is not here... needless to say my heart isn't either (a little of that has to do with the fact that the free preview of the Cooking Channel finally ended today... I love that fucking channel. Damn).
I had been wrestling with the thought of hopping on the bus for Hometown that left this morning. I had been thinking about it for the last three days. The desire with which I want to be in Hometown is disgustingly intense. However, each time I'm about to pull the trigger (terrible choice of words, but whatever) on just packing a bag and peace-ing out (again, ironic choice of words), some bad shit happens and I lose momentum.
What made me stop this time around? We got word that a couple of days ago my cousin's wife and her siblings got robbed on their drive down to Hometown. They were driving down to make their father's funeral, when on the outskirts of Chihuahua City, an armed group of masked men pulled them over and beat ALL of them half to death--women included-- and stole EVERYTHING... including passports, and obviously their truck.
Fucking terrifying. Call me a pussy, I don't give a fuck... but forgive me for wanting to piss my pants when I see myself surrounded, completely outnumbered, by a bunch of dudes in black masks pointing M16s in my face.

Over the weekend, I got into an extremely heated argument over this subject-- the violence in Mexico.
Mom and I were asked when we're going to Hometown.
Mom: We REALLY want to go... but... the violence is what keeps us away.

No biggie there, I thought... because we were speaking the truth. HELLO! My brother's a US diplomat living in Mexico, we have insider information for fucks sake-- and it just so happens that Hometown is a fucking hornet's nest when it comes to the violence going on right now. We're not just talking out of our asses.
But these two brats... these two chicks who LOVE stirring the pot... and are so fucking... narrow-minded and stubborn... just had to press my buttons.
Bitch1: I'm SO annoyed of people saying how dangerous Mexico is! Shut the fuck up. Nobody wants to kill you, dont feel so important. (seriously, verbatim)

Let the fireworks begin, baby.
It's not that one "feels important" it's just that one sees NO POINT in unnecessarily placing oneself in harm's way.
I'm glad many people are blessed enough to be delusional enough to think the violence in Mexico is "not as bad as depicted on television" because they've never had the unpleasant experiences many other Mexicans have had. Lucky them for not getting their Skype call to Hometown interrupted by a fucking gunfight going on outside. Lucky them for not having a family member taken for ransom... or robbed, or beaten, etc etc.
Also, it's not that we go out there looking for trouble... but there is such a thing as being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Casualties of war, dipshit. Ever heard of drive-bys? I don't think the kids playing in their front yards were looking to get killed... yet, it happened quite fucking frequently when I was a kid.
But hey! Fuck it, point is YOU want to go to Mexico, right? I mean, YOU'RE fucking fearless... wait... what? What's that? You haven't gone in five years? Ooooooo. Interesting, Pancho Villa. I suggest you take your own advice and visit the paradise our hometown has become. Prove us ALL wrong, homie. It's pretty cool to see people practically run from door to door while they walk the street after grocery shopping... see how they flinch the moment they sense a car/truck approaching. Total overreaction. Yup. All overreacting drama-loving folk... like all those losers in the middle east afraid of grenades and shit. Pffft!

I fucking hate idiots.

SO! Yeah. Still wrestling with the idea. Still heartbroken with the probability that I will not visit Hometown for my second year straight. Second summer away from my thunderstorms and stars and volleyball in the rain... and the smell of horseshit and rotting carcasses and stuff like that. I just really like the third world... minus the violence. I'll try again next month.

But off sad subjects and more summer-y shit!
First thing that comes to mind are my cool "Spain-inspired" nails. Remember those?
Wasn't I making fun of Kim's fingers yesterday?
Hmmm...
My adorable 50-something-year-old asian gym buddy asked me if I was Vietnamese today.
Sure, South Vietnam no longer exists
...but it did during HER lifetime.

Arg! You win this time...
Looks like I'm not as creative as I think I am.

I'll try harder next time.

Hi, Summer!

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