So tired... so sleepy... but very happy.
A little Cephalopod by the name of Paul helped me start the festivities early.
:)
(Man, I'd get murdered by my teacher if he knew I was going back to posting shit like this. But seriously, I'm tired, sleepy, and sick. I can't think straight)
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Another Santa
Back in my school days, I was often referred to as a teacher's pet.
I wasn't.
I've just always been well behaved, and whenever an adult has given me a command, I listen.
For that, you can thank my strict Mexican mother, quick to slap the taste out my mouth after the smallest sign of backtalk.
When it came to teachers, I was always the nice one who always did my homework and always played nice with the other kids.
I'd also get very attached to my teachers... in elementary... usually the outcome of me following their rules for so long.
Well, recently, I found my third grade teacher on Facebook. I have one friend in common with her, and it just so happened that I was on that friend's FB when I saw 3rdGradeTeacher appear on the 6 visible friends portion.
After 16 years, the lady has not changed.
I was stoked, of course, to have found her.
The lady taught me how to add. Weird, I know, considering I should have known how to do that by 3rd grade.
My dumbass 2nd grade teacher messed me up because all she would have us do in class was sleep, throw parties, and watch movies. So, come third grade, my new teacher caught on, told my mom to explain the concept of addition/subtraction to me, and hopefully I'd catch up within a couple of weeks. I caught up in the matter of two days.
With the mastering of addition/subtraction, this teacher proceeded to teach me the times-tables by singing. The woman would sing about ANYTHING.
To this day, I've been mindfucked into singing my 3s, 4s, and 5s (if you see me having a hard time multiplying anything by these numbers, let it be known that the fucking song hasn't ended in my head, hence my delay).
Anyway, I thought this lady loved me. I was always one of the 6 kids who would attend her "perfect homework" luncheons she'd throw the kids in class who turned in their homework every day for the quarter.
I even have a stupid story where I actually cried one day because I wasn't given homework.
(People don't understand I cried because everyone else had the homework sheet, and the asshole substitute teacher failed to give me mine. I went up to him at the end of class and asked him for mine. He wouldn't believe me [why the fuck would anyone lie about not getting a homework sheet?], and my bus wasn't going to wait for me. He had the extra sheet in his hand, and he would waive it around and laugh in my face as my chin would tremble and my eyes would water. He wouldn't stop his mocking and he wouldn't give me the sheet! Add to that, my bus had now left my ass at school... so I cried. I still remember that fuckface's name... Mr. Lockich [I won't protect this fuck's identity. If I ever, ever, ever bump into that man again, I swear to God I'll fucking beat the shit out of his now-probably-senile ass] aka Mister Stiffy, 'cause that sick bastard would show up to class in sweat pants... and guess what would happen to him in front of the boys...)
After this horror story (which my friend's mom corroborated when the teacher ask about it) 3rdGradeTeacher became endeared to me (Aww, AnoMALIE cried for her homework? What a sweet baby! HE WAS MOCKING ME AND I MISSED THE BUS! I WAS NINE! What's so hard to understand about that?!).
But last week, I learned this "teacherly" love was all an act.
Guess who rejected my friend request the other day... that bitch.
As if I've changed that much since 1994.
If I ever have kids, I hope they're dicks to their teachers and his/her fake interest in their well-being (not saying ALL teachers are fake asses. Oddly enough, the one k-12 teacher to be genuinely interested in my life has been my 10th grade English teacher, and I didn't even like her).
Yeah, I'm bitter... just like when I learned Santa Clause was fake. My gentle, gullible soul doesn't enjoy rude awakenings.
I wasn't.
I've just always been well behaved, and whenever an adult has given me a command, I listen.
For that, you can thank my strict Mexican mother, quick to slap the taste out my mouth after the smallest sign of backtalk.
When it came to teachers, I was always the nice one who always did my homework and always played nice with the other kids.
I'd also get very attached to my teachers... in elementary... usually the outcome of me following their rules for so long.
Well, recently, I found my third grade teacher on Facebook. I have one friend in common with her, and it just so happened that I was on that friend's FB when I saw 3rdGradeTeacher appear on the 6 visible friends portion.
After 16 years, the lady has not changed.
I was stoked, of course, to have found her.
The lady taught me how to add. Weird, I know, considering I should have known how to do that by 3rd grade.
My dumbass 2nd grade teacher messed me up because all she would have us do in class was sleep, throw parties, and watch movies. So, come third grade, my new teacher caught on, told my mom to explain the concept of addition/subtraction to me, and hopefully I'd catch up within a couple of weeks. I caught up in the matter of two days.
With the mastering of addition/subtraction, this teacher proceeded to teach me the times-tables by singing. The woman would sing about ANYTHING.
To this day, I've been mindfucked into singing my 3s, 4s, and 5s (if you see me having a hard time multiplying anything by these numbers, let it be known that the fucking song hasn't ended in my head, hence my delay).
Anyway, I thought this lady loved me. I was always one of the 6 kids who would attend her "perfect homework" luncheons she'd throw the kids in class who turned in their homework every day for the quarter.
I even have a stupid story where I actually cried one day because I wasn't given homework.
(People don't understand I cried because everyone else had the homework sheet, and the asshole substitute teacher failed to give me mine. I went up to him at the end of class and asked him for mine. He wouldn't believe me [why the fuck would anyone lie about not getting a homework sheet?], and my bus wasn't going to wait for me. He had the extra sheet in his hand, and he would waive it around and laugh in my face as my chin would tremble and my eyes would water. He wouldn't stop his mocking and he wouldn't give me the sheet! Add to that, my bus had now left my ass at school... so I cried. I still remember that fuckface's name... Mr. Lockich [I won't protect this fuck's identity. If I ever, ever, ever bump into that man again, I swear to God I'll fucking beat the shit out of his now-probably-senile ass] aka Mister Stiffy, 'cause that sick bastard would show up to class in sweat pants... and guess what would happen to him in front of the boys...)
After this horror story (which my friend's mom corroborated when the teacher ask about it) 3rdGradeTeacher became endeared to me (Aww, AnoMALIE cried for her homework? What a sweet baby! HE WAS MOCKING ME AND I MISSED THE BUS! I WAS NINE! What's so hard to understand about that?!).
But last week, I learned this "teacherly" love was all an act.
Guess who rejected my friend request the other day... that bitch.
As if I've changed that much since 1994.
If I ever have kids, I hope they're dicks to their teachers and his/her fake interest in their well-being (not saying ALL teachers are fake asses. Oddly enough, the one k-12 teacher to be genuinely interested in my life has been my 10th grade English teacher, and I didn't even like her).
Yeah, I'm bitter... just like when I learned Santa Clause was fake. My gentle, gullible soul doesn't enjoy rude awakenings.
Monday, July 5, 2010
Boys will be Girls
(MGHsBro asks for directions while at the Paris)
Concierge: How old are you?
MGHsBro: 18.
Concierge: How about her? (me)
MGHsBro: 25.
Concierge: You guys are a couple, right?
MGHsBro: She's my mom.
Concierge: Oh... wow, really?
Me: Yeah, it was a hard delivery.
MGHsBro: I'm not really 18... I'm 22.
Me: I'm still 25.
Concierge: Wait... 25... 22...
Me: He's my brother.
I've had a good time with the boys... but yesterday, shit made a turn for the wack.
I don't know the entire story, I didn't ask. All I know is the nine boys had a nasty argument last night, which revolved around money.
I was in the other room as the boys had their awkward powwow, and I was desperately trying to keep myself occupied with my phone or the TV, so I wouldn't hear their shit (semi-successfully. I heard a couple of "Mira, guey... a mi me vale verga!" and "ENTIENDE, PENDEJO!" Which I was like... "Dude, someone turn up the fucking volume on this Jersey Shore!").
It killed the fun vibe... and while we all went gambling after the argument, the faction was made.
So sad.
I thought only chicks had this type of bickering drama.
Anyway, they decided to keep it sort of civil. From last night's argument, it appears it was three of the boys making trouble, so instead of beating each other's asses, they just agreed to go their own way.
While four of the "Bochitos" (the nickname the group of 6 boys who met in elementary go by. MGHsBro is part of the 6. They for some reason call themselves the Spanish slang term for a VW Bug. While MGHsBro tried explaining it to me, we all know I have a very short attention span) came over to my place for some Camarones Al Mojo De Ajo, the trouble makers took one of the Bochitos hostage and forced him to drive them around the Venetian area.
So, we all decided that Sister, the 4 Bochitos, and I would go about and enjoy some last minute touristy shit.
We were then supposed to drop off the blue-eyed Guatemalan Bochito at the bus station, but two things happened:
1) MGHsBro's car was crashed by a dickhead as we were parked on the curb. The swapping of info was such a mess. Example?
MGHsBro: Ok, so what's your name?
DickHeadCarCrasher: Fatz.
MGHsBro: No, I mean, your REAL name.
DHCC: Oh, Shawn.
WHO the FUCK answers like that? Only in Downtown.
2. The blue-eyed Guatemalan Bochito had three hours to kill. Instead of letting him stay at the bus station with all the shady looking people, we decided to hijack him ... and bring him home.
MGHsBro and his gang had to get on the road to head back to Mexico, so BEGB was pretty much forced to spend time with us.
My mom fell in love with him. Ha.
Yesterday may have been awkward, but over the course of the weekend, I really got attached to those kids. So funny, so adorable, and so nice.
Yeah, guy friends are definitely awesome.
Concierge: How old are you?
MGHsBro: 18.
Concierge: How about her? (me)
MGHsBro: 25.
Concierge: You guys are a couple, right?
MGHsBro: She's my mom.
Concierge: Oh... wow, really?
Me: Yeah, it was a hard delivery.
MGHsBro: I'm not really 18... I'm 22.
Me: I'm still 25.
Concierge: Wait... 25... 22...
Me: He's my brother.
I've had a good time with the boys... but yesterday, shit made a turn for the wack.
I don't know the entire story, I didn't ask. All I know is the nine boys had a nasty argument last night, which revolved around money.
I was in the other room as the boys had their awkward powwow, and I was desperately trying to keep myself occupied with my phone or the TV, so I wouldn't hear their shit (semi-successfully. I heard a couple of "Mira, guey... a mi me vale verga!" and "ENTIENDE, PENDEJO!" Which I was like... "Dude, someone turn up the fucking volume on this Jersey Shore!").
It killed the fun vibe... and while we all went gambling after the argument, the faction was made.
So sad.
I thought only chicks had this type of bickering drama.
Anyway, they decided to keep it sort of civil. From last night's argument, it appears it was three of the boys making trouble, so instead of beating each other's asses, they just agreed to go their own way.
While four of the "Bochitos" (the nickname the group of 6 boys who met in elementary go by. MGHsBro is part of the 6. They for some reason call themselves the Spanish slang term for a VW Bug. While MGHsBro tried explaining it to me, we all know I have a very short attention span) came over to my place for some Camarones Al Mojo De Ajo, the trouble makers took one of the Bochitos hostage and forced him to drive them around the Venetian area.
So, we all decided that Sister, the 4 Bochitos, and I would go about and enjoy some last minute touristy shit.
We were then supposed to drop off the blue-eyed Guatemalan Bochito at the bus station, but two things happened:
1) MGHsBro's car was crashed by a dickhead as we were parked on the curb. The swapping of info was such a mess. Example?
MGHsBro: Ok, so what's your name?
DickHeadCarCrasher: Fatz.
MGHsBro: No, I mean, your REAL name.
DHCC: Oh, Shawn.
WHO the FUCK answers like that? Only in Downtown.
2. The blue-eyed Guatemalan Bochito had three hours to kill. Instead of letting him stay at the bus station with all the shady looking people, we decided to hijack him ... and bring him home.
MGHsBro and his gang had to get on the road to head back to Mexico, so BEGB was pretty much forced to spend time with us.
My mom fell in love with him. Ha.
Yesterday may have been awkward, but over the course of the weekend, I really got attached to those kids. So funny, so adorable, and so nice.
Yeah, guy friends are definitely awesome.
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Lady Shutyourassup
Last night was one of the best nights I've had in a while. These boys are pretty freakin' awesome...
Homegirl... where do I begin?
The chick who posted this on FB is my friend ONLY because she's my friend's fiancé. I love him-- as a FRIEND-- and so, by default, I respect whoever he wants to spend the rest of his life with.
She has taken a few jabs at me before, most recently being a comment I made about the Mexican flag being the most beautiful flag in the world.
"Umm... why??"
Because an international poll said so, you fucking confrontational brat. The story behind that awesome Eagle-eating-a-snake is badass... you'd know it if you were half as cultured as you feel you are.
Instead of saying what I really wanted to say, I bit my tongue and acted as if I didn't know what she was talking about. I changed the topic to the first half of my comment, which was something along the lines of "I'm so fucking excited!" Because I don't want to cause friction between my friend and I.
But... I can only take so much of her insolent, vapid remarks. Eventually, I'm going to go off on her. One day, ONE FUCKING DAY.
The idiot is 22, she didn't go to college, and she takes issue with everything. She feels capacitated to talk about ANY topic as if she had a PhD in ALL subjects... which I guess would be possible if sitting at home and watching TV all day counts as getting an education.
Chase and I have accidentally zinged her a couple of times while hanging out. It's just too easy... and she's so fucking opinionated, that sometimes, we can't help it.
I guess she has harbored some sort of resentment, and she resorts to taking it out on us via FB (this is what happens when too many fucks are allowed to join facebook).
Both Chase and I have Lady Gaga listed as a favorite on FB. This idiot only has 27 friends on FB... gee, I wonder at whom she's directing this diatribe...
I'll start by saying my taste in music is CRAZY eclectic. I have everything from English death metal to French rap, Mexican mariachi to Italian pop. I try not to demerit music too much, because I honestly try to find a redeeming quality in most.
Lyrics repetitive and nonsensical? Well... does it have a decent beat? If yes, then fuck it, I'll dance. If the answer is NO, then fuck that shit, I won't listen.
Is the beat slow/boring, but the lyrics meaningful? Ok, I'll listen right before going to bed (only to be woken up by my horrible shuffle that proceeds to play "Sweating Bullets" or some shit).
Sure, there are artists out there that make me want to slit my wrists and pour gasoline all over myself while smoking, all in order to just end the experience... but I don't go off and pick a fight with people who DO like them.
Why do I like Gaga? 1- she writes her own shit. 2- she has the most unique sense of fashion... as outlandish as it may be. 3- her register of voice is interesting. 4- she is the sweetest girl to those who love/support her.
Lady Gaga, basically, would be my friend in real life. She's weird and she doesn't give a fuck to please dumb, critical jackasses like Friend'sFiancé.
Yeah, they over-play her like nobody's business, but if I'm not in the mood to listen, I change the damn station.
The fact that Gaga can get so many people to love her is amazing in and of itself... I couldn't even get all of the 10-12 people in my damn college creative writing class to like me.
Oh, and as for Beyonce having jerky dance moves... are we watching the same chick? The girl can throw down! I will PAY to see YOU out-dance her. I don't really care for Beyonce, but I will give her credit any day for her dance moves. So, it's not the foxtrot or a Viennese waltz... who gives a fuck? Who the fuck dances to that shit in today's world? Go ahead, try it at a club, Friend'sFiancé... I'm sure you'll show those idiots.
P.S. "World's supplies?" Umm, you mean "Earth's resources?" Quit trying to showcase this supposed superior intelligence, it becomes painfully evident that you CLEARLY don't posses this trait within seconds of you opening your mouth (also, makeup tends to be composed of oils and pigments that are quite abundant in this world. What the fuck are you talk about?).
Think you're better than I am? The only subject you're probably more advanced in is sucking dick... and that's only because I don't participate. I'm sure if you give me some time to practice, I'll trump you there as well.
It also helps that they think I'm pretty awesome.
Three of the nine boys are a little too touchy-feely with me...
It's weird to have three guys hanging all over me, since I usually can't even get three puppies to be all over me... even when I have food in my hands.
One kid in particular is pretty damn adorable. He did everything but sit on my lap last night to try to get me to talk to him. Weird shit, I say.
Anyway, I was in a good mood, even if I did go to bed at four in the morning. Then I woke up to this rant:
I'm tried of people saying that these fame whores are "amazing" singers and dancers. I have watched 5 Lady Gaga videos. She doesn't dance. She walks around and touches herself. Just because you do jerky moves (I'm talking to you Beyonce!) does not make you a real dancer (even if Mr. West thinks you are "the best dancer ever"). If back up dancers didn't exist, people wouldn't like these lame videos nearly as much.
Oh yeah and just repeating names such as Alejandro or Roberto doesn't make a song any good. It's just repetitive like- " I say Hillshire, you say farm. Go meat!!!". Someone said Lady Gaga is our Freddy Mercury. Queen was and is one of the most important bands there ever was. Gaga is crap in a sewer drain compared to Queen. People I'm asking you to explain to me why, why do YOU think these people are any good?
P.s. Oh and by the way no amount of make-up makes ugly pretty, so stop draining the world's supplies and just live with your genetics.
Homegirl... where do I begin?
The chick who posted this on FB is my friend ONLY because she's my friend's fiancé. I love him-- as a FRIEND-- and so, by default, I respect whoever he wants to spend the rest of his life with.
She has taken a few jabs at me before, most recently being a comment I made about the Mexican flag being the most beautiful flag in the world.
"Umm... why??"
Because an international poll said so, you fucking confrontational brat. The story behind that awesome Eagle-eating-a-snake is badass... you'd know it if you were half as cultured as you feel you are.
Instead of saying what I really wanted to say, I bit my tongue and acted as if I didn't know what she was talking about. I changed the topic to the first half of my comment, which was something along the lines of "I'm so fucking excited!" Because I don't want to cause friction between my friend and I.
But... I can only take so much of her insolent, vapid remarks. Eventually, I'm going to go off on her. One day, ONE FUCKING DAY.
The idiot is 22, she didn't go to college, and she takes issue with everything. She feels capacitated to talk about ANY topic as if she had a PhD in ALL subjects... which I guess would be possible if sitting at home and watching TV all day counts as getting an education.
Chase and I have accidentally zinged her a couple of times while hanging out. It's just too easy... and she's so fucking opinionated, that sometimes, we can't help it.
I guess she has harbored some sort of resentment, and she resorts to taking it out on us via FB (this is what happens when too many fucks are allowed to join facebook).
Both Chase and I have Lady Gaga listed as a favorite on FB. This idiot only has 27 friends on FB... gee, I wonder at whom she's directing this diatribe...
I'll start by saying my taste in music is CRAZY eclectic. I have everything from English death metal to French rap, Mexican mariachi to Italian pop. I try not to demerit music too much, because I honestly try to find a redeeming quality in most.
Lyrics repetitive and nonsensical? Well... does it have a decent beat? If yes, then fuck it, I'll dance. If the answer is NO, then fuck that shit, I won't listen.
Is the beat slow/boring, but the lyrics meaningful? Ok, I'll listen right before going to bed (only to be woken up by my horrible shuffle that proceeds to play "Sweating Bullets" or some shit).
Sure, there are artists out there that make me want to slit my wrists and pour gasoline all over myself while smoking, all in order to just end the experience... but I don't go off and pick a fight with people who DO like them.
Why do I like Gaga? 1- she writes her own shit. 2- she has the most unique sense of fashion... as outlandish as it may be. 3- her register of voice is interesting. 4- she is the sweetest girl to those who love/support her.
Lady Gaga, basically, would be my friend in real life. She's weird and she doesn't give a fuck to please dumb, critical jackasses like Friend'sFiancé.
Yeah, they over-play her like nobody's business, but if I'm not in the mood to listen, I change the damn station.
The fact that Gaga can get so many people to love her is amazing in and of itself... I couldn't even get all of the 10-12 people in my damn college creative writing class to like me.
Oh, and as for Beyonce having jerky dance moves... are we watching the same chick? The girl can throw down! I will PAY to see YOU out-dance her. I don't really care for Beyonce, but I will give her credit any day for her dance moves. So, it's not the foxtrot or a Viennese waltz... who gives a fuck? Who the fuck dances to that shit in today's world? Go ahead, try it at a club, Friend'sFiancé... I'm sure you'll show those idiots.
P.S. "World's supplies?" Umm, you mean "Earth's resources?" Quit trying to showcase this supposed superior intelligence, it becomes painfully evident that you CLEARLY don't posses this trait within seconds of you opening your mouth (also, makeup tends to be composed of oils and pigments that are quite abundant in this world. What the fuck are you talk about?).
Think you're better than I am? The only subject you're probably more advanced in is sucking dick... and that's only because I don't participate. I'm sure if you give me some time to practice, I'll trump you there as well.
Saturday, July 3, 2010
Not enough time
Next time I agree to play tour-guide, please... PLEASE, please, please slap me in the face.
This sucks. I'm so fucking tired.
I just want to go to Mexico, is that too much to ask?
On a bright note, at least the Germany and Spain victories today sort of made me more animated... although Spain made me cuss like nobody's business... and now I'm sad thinking of Germany raping the shit out of Spain like they did Argentina.
Ok, now back to irritation with being a tour guide.
:(
This sucks. I'm so fucking tired.
I just want to go to Mexico, is that too much to ask?
On a bright note, at least the Germany and Spain victories today sort of made me more animated... although Spain made me cuss like nobody's business... and now I'm sad thinking of Germany raping the shit out of Spain like they did Argentina.
Ok, now back to irritation with being a tour guide.
:(
Friday, July 2, 2010
Interrogation 101
I knew it!!! I knew it had taken them too long to butt in!
(Conference call between Pacemaker, her cousin, and I. First we start talking about MGH's brother and his friends being in town, then the whole Spain prospect... then I make a comment to myself after reading something outrageous on FB... and then FB takes center stage)
PMsCousin: Hey! So I was meaning to ask you, what's this I've seen going on between you and Lito on there?
Me: My cousin's friend? Nothing.
Pacemaker: Oh yeah! I saw that! Why's he calling you "Sabrosa?" What the hell is that about?!
Me: It's a joke. Sabrosa's a dude.
Pacemaker: Hmm... sounds fishy.
Me: No... he's my sister's dude. That'd be fucked up.
Of course, I don't tell them how he first greeted me...
I've seen the guy around for the last... three years of my life, since he's friends with my cousins. It wasn't until last year at a family reunion (he was there, because, well, he's like a brother to my cousins) that we actually talked to each other.
After arguing about music and playing some beer pong (he, not I. I'm only good at Flip Cup), it was time for me to go. He was going to shake hands and pull me in for a kiss on the cheek, but he miscalculated (at least, that's what I tell myself). His hand accidentally slipped into the deep V of my shirt, and he wound up cupping my left tit and pulling me in for the kiss.
It was in front of my cousins, my sister, and my uncle.
He apologized and I acted like I was fine... no blushing or stuttering.
I should have won an Oscar for playing that off.
But Pacemaker and her cousin will never know that.
Anyway, after my first successful dodge of their interrogation, the conversation around FB dudes still wouldn't die.
Pacemaker: I thought that guy making fun of Ronaldo was funny.
Me: Darcy?
Pacemaker: Hahahahaha! (mimicking me) Darcy?
PMsCousin: Heheheheh! Don't even try playing that off! Your own voice betrayed you!
Me: No it didn't. He's my friend.
Pacemaker: Hmmm. Right.
Me: Hmmm. Right.
PMsCousin: Do your eyes get wide when you see him? Feel like your heart will beat out of your chest?
Me: No. (Yes...)
Pacemaker: And her knees probably get weak!
Me: NO! (...yes...)
PMsCousin: She probably forgets to breathe and shit...
Me: Shut the fuck up guys... y'all are so gay (well, I do get lightheaded sometimes... because... ok, yeah, maybe I do forget to breathe)
PMsCousin: (in a sing-songy voice) She got ma-ad. She has a cru-ush.
Me: What are we? Ten? I met him in one of my English classes. I thought he was cool and his sarcasm made me smile. Later I found out we had this random connection through mutual friends. He's pretty hot, but I get the feeling I bug him because I never manage to shut the fuck up on facebook... But anyway! You don't see me making fun of your guy friends. I see how *CholoDude* comments you, PMsCousin. Now that nigga... none of my friends call me "boo" (oh my God, and if they do, I will kick their ass) or say I'm "lookin' fine, girl." What's up with that??
PMsCousin: Hey, that's just how he talks. Can't blame a guy for representing East Los... wait... did you just admi...
Me: Shut up.
And this is how my friends ambush me in the middle of the night, when I'm sleep deprived, and get me to flip right before going to bed... just for fun.
At least they didn't get to see my red face...
did you know Mexicans can blush?
(Conference call between Pacemaker, her cousin, and I. First we start talking about MGH's brother and his friends being in town, then the whole Spain prospect... then I make a comment to myself after reading something outrageous on FB... and then FB takes center stage)
PMsCousin: Hey! So I was meaning to ask you, what's this I've seen going on between you and Lito on there?
Me: My cousin's friend? Nothing.
Pacemaker: Oh yeah! I saw that! Why's he calling you "Sabrosa?" What the hell is that about?!
Me: It's a joke. Sabrosa's a dude.
Pacemaker: Hmm... sounds fishy.
Me: No... he's my sister's dude. That'd be fucked up.
Of course, I don't tell them how he first greeted me...
I've seen the guy around for the last... three years of my life, since he's friends with my cousins. It wasn't until last year at a family reunion (he was there, because, well, he's like a brother to my cousins) that we actually talked to each other.
After arguing about music and playing some beer pong (he, not I. I'm only good at Flip Cup), it was time for me to go. He was going to shake hands and pull me in for a kiss on the cheek, but he miscalculated (at least, that's what I tell myself). His hand accidentally slipped into the deep V of my shirt, and he wound up cupping my left tit and pulling me in for the kiss.
It was in front of my cousins, my sister, and my uncle.
He apologized and I acted like I was fine... no blushing or stuttering.
I should have won an Oscar for playing that off.
But Pacemaker and her cousin will never know that.
Anyway, after my first successful dodge of their interrogation, the conversation around FB dudes still wouldn't die.
Pacemaker: I thought that guy making fun of Ronaldo was funny.
Me: Darcy?
Pacemaker: Hahahahaha! (mimicking me) Darcy?
PMsCousin: Heheheheh! Don't even try playing that off! Your own voice betrayed you!
Me: No it didn't. He's my friend.
Pacemaker: Hmmm. Right.
Me: Hmmm. Right.
PMsCousin: Do your eyes get wide when you see him? Feel like your heart will beat out of your chest?
Me: No. (Yes...)
Pacemaker: And her knees probably get weak!
Me: NO! (...yes...)
PMsCousin: She probably forgets to breathe and shit...
Me: Shut the fuck up guys... y'all are so gay (well, I do get lightheaded sometimes... because... ok, yeah, maybe I do forget to breathe)
PMsCousin: (in a sing-songy voice) She got ma-ad. She has a cru-ush.
Me: What are we? Ten? I met him in one of my English classes. I thought he was cool and his sarcasm made me smile. Later I found out we had this random connection through mutual friends. He's pretty hot, but I get the feeling I bug him because I never manage to shut the fuck up on facebook... But anyway! You don't see me making fun of your guy friends. I see how *CholoDude* comments you, PMsCousin. Now that nigga... none of my friends call me "boo" (oh my God, and if they do, I will kick their ass) or say I'm "lookin' fine, girl." What's up with that??
PMsCousin: Hey, that's just how he talks. Can't blame a guy for representing East Los... wait... did you just admi...
Me: Shut up.
And this is how my friends ambush me in the middle of the night, when I'm sleep deprived, and get me to flip right before going to bed... just for fun.
At least they didn't get to see my red face...
did you know Mexicans can blush?
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Manitas
Pacemaker: Aww... so are you sad you're no longer going to see your loverboy?
Me: What are you talking about?
Pacemaker: Isn't he out of the World Cup or whatever?
Me: Oh... you mean that. No, I don't care. He has creepy hands.
Pacemaker: What the... AnoMALIE, this is why you don't have a boyfriend. Creepy hands?
Me: Yes, creepy hands. His fingers are too short. I don't know, maybe it's the violinist in me, or... I don't know. But short fingers DON'T fly. I don't care how fantastically muscular your thighs are, or how ripped your abs may be... short fingers remind me of Willow... and that little guy ::shudder::
I don't think I have extreme demands when it comes to dudes... I've just never been a fan of Vienna Sausages.
And now that we're on the subject of Pacemaker, I have a new dilemma she introduced me to last night:
Pacemaker and her cousin are planning to live abroad next fall... however, they're only up for it if my sister and I go with them.
While this excites the hell out of me... I'm pretty upset about it.
If everything goes according to plan, I'll be in grad school by the fall of '11.
Recently, I've been getting into far too many fights with those around me because they keep pestering me about my future. Add to that, the fact that my parents have recently referred to me as "out of control" because I don't cook for THEM while I'm home (ME, out of control... HAAAAAAAAAAAAA! Say that when you bail me out of jail after getting caught giving a dude head for money in a back alley in order to feed my crack addiction. But because I don't cook for them?). So, I REALLY want to get out of here... and grad school's my ticket.
The reason why I've been putting off the grad school step is because I've been too addicted to traveling... and that whole MGH misstep.
Now they spring the idea of going to Barcelona in 2011? Jesus... ahhhh! (and my other hesitation with that is the Spanish economy. Those fools are a step away from turning into the next Greece... I don't think it would be the brightest idea to be there for that. But it's SPAIN!! I LOVE IT! Why have they done this to me?)
So... I don't know what the fuck.
I'm still going to go through the whole grad school application process and see what the deal is. I just hope this new adventure doesn't sidetrack my mind too much... 'cause we all know how ADD-prone I am.
Me: What are you talking about?
Pacemaker: Isn't he out of the World Cup or whatever?
Me: Oh... you mean that. No, I don't care. He has creepy hands.
Pacemaker: What the... AnoMALIE, this is why you don't have a boyfriend. Creepy hands?
Me: Yes, creepy hands. His fingers are too short. I don't know, maybe it's the violinist in me, or... I don't know. But short fingers DON'T fly. I don't care how fantastically muscular your thighs are, or how ripped your abs may be... short fingers remind me of Willow... and that little guy ::shudder::
I don't think I have extreme demands when it comes to dudes... I've just never been a fan of Vienna Sausages.
And now that we're on the subject of Pacemaker, I have a new dilemma she introduced me to last night:
Pacemaker and her cousin are planning to live abroad next fall... however, they're only up for it if my sister and I go with them.
While this excites the hell out of me... I'm pretty upset about it.
If everything goes according to plan, I'll be in grad school by the fall of '11.
Recently, I've been getting into far too many fights with those around me because they keep pestering me about my future. Add to that, the fact that my parents have recently referred to me as "out of control" because I don't cook for THEM while I'm home (ME, out of control... HAAAAAAAAAAAAA! Say that when you bail me out of jail after getting caught giving a dude head for money in a back alley in order to feed my crack addiction. But because I don't cook for them?). So, I REALLY want to get out of here... and grad school's my ticket.
The reason why I've been putting off the grad school step is because I've been too addicted to traveling... and that whole MGH misstep.
Now they spring the idea of going to Barcelona in 2011? Jesus... ahhhh! (and my other hesitation with that is the Spanish economy. Those fools are a step away from turning into the next Greece... I don't think it would be the brightest idea to be there for that. But it's SPAIN!! I LOVE IT! Why have they done this to me?)
So... I don't know what the fuck.
I'm still going to go through the whole grad school application process and see what the deal is. I just hope this new adventure doesn't sidetrack my mind too much... 'cause we all know how ADD-prone I am.