Friday, May 25, 2007
How do I know this, you ask? He left an anonymous note under the left windshield wiper of my car. How do you remember that it is the left, you ask? I don't know, I just do. I have a wonderful mind for mundane details. It's a gift.
It's always lovely to be admired. What good taste my secret admirer has! But how, exactly, does he know exactly what car I drive and where I park it? That's the alarming part, now isn't it.
"Okay, okay chill out, oh paranoid one," you might say. "Remember that there is an alarmingly colorful Sponge Bob Square Pants sheet covering your entire back seat. And remember that your car is held together mostly with tape and paint? That isn't really the way to car anonymity, now is it?"
Yes, yes, I'll grant you this. All true, all true. But how does he know this? Especially as I often park two blocks away from the alleged place we supposedly once met. But, of course, I often snag the spot right outside the damn front door as well. Hmmmmm.
Stalker or admirer. Who can tell.
If you do hear that I have been chopped into pieces and found wrapped up all snug and dead please send them after my admirer.
Oh wait. You can't really, can you? His identity is a secret. Shhhhhh...
Friday, May 18, 2007
It has come to my attention that my grammar sucks. For this I apologize. I blame it on everything but myself. But primarily, I blame it on the automatic spelling error correction feature on my word processing program and my lack of patience to police it. Damn you, computer! For your enjoyment have included a portion of the email my mother recently sent to me to bring this to my attention. She is, of course, the goddess of proper English. And this is yet another reason I love her. She is a god. And she's damn smart! Enjoy.
"Okay. I really enjoy your blog. I just read it. I understand about dorky men. HOWEVER, I feel compelled to point out some persistent grammar/spelling issues that are becoming reoccurring.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Those who know me well, they know that I'm not particularly cuddly. So this hugging thing is a little, no a lot, out of character for me. It may sound innocuous, maybe harmless to you, but don't be fooled. This one time, I was staying at a hotel that was hosting a Dungeons and Dragons convention. Dork City. The oft denied urge to hug almost sent me into fits. Not a pretty site!
Self Denial really sucks!
Saturday, May 12, 2007
My mommy is so smart. My mommy is so pretty. Your mommy ain't got nothing on mine!
Happy Mothers Day, mommy!
In honor of my mom, I would like to present to you, dear readers, some sage little gems of experience, love, and wisdom that my mom has given me, over the years.
Mommy gem number one:
And I quote: “If it's a gift, gift wrap it!” As stated via post-it stuck to the dining room table to my 22 year old brother on her way out of town. She had no illusions of keeping the girlfriend out. At 15, I had no idea what the hell she was talking about. I remember the exact moment, about two years later, that it finally made sense. The advice, though not directly meant for me at the time has served me well. So thank you mom!
Mommy Gem number two:
Again, I quote: “ Don't get married. Live in Sin.” Yes, you read that correctly. My catholic born and bred Puerto Rican mommy has told all of us girls and boy this repeatedly and frequently throughout our entire adolescence and adulthood. Now, now, calm your outrage! There is a back story.
My mom grew up poor. My mom grew up poor and Puerto Rican in Brooklyn, NY. Marriages were made young. Babies, too, were made young. Too young. My mom wanted more than that for us. She put herself through school with two young children in her early twenties as a single mom. She remembers what it is to be skinny not because you work at it but because you don't have enough to eat. She never wanted us to know that.
Now, of course, at 27 and having lived in sin with the venerable Ross for nearly eight years, I am sure she is ready to sing a different tune, but that's a story for a different day, isn't it?
Mommy Gem number three:
“Always go pee after sex. It cleans the toxins out of your bladder. Boys are naturally dirty, it's not there fault. Trust me, your bladder will thank you.” This she said to my 21 year old self and my college roommate Keri over drinks at a hotel bar in Albany, NY. Both Keri and I thank her for this.
Mommy Gem number four:
“EPIDURAL”. Not that I have yet had an opportunity to demand one. But I have every intention of utilizing it when the time is right. Natural childbirth is for the birds!
Mommy Gem number five:
“Love doesn't just come to you. It isn't magic. You have to reach out and grab it and fight for it. Never let it go. Work for it. Earn it.”
Mommy never said this, exactly, but she lives it. And I understand this and I try to live it, too. With the exception of her love. Amazingly enough, I get that for free! Even when I don't deserve it. For that, mom, I thank you. I love you, mom!
Happy Mothers Day
The world just looks different by moonlight. I sit high up in a tower, okay, it's really just an upper floor of a nondescript foreign hotel, but where's the romance in that? Just out of my window looms a gorgeous white mosque. It almost appears to glow. And maybe it was built for just this, to be seen by moonlight by a foreign girl staring dreamily out from her tower alternately swaying gently and rubbing her tired calves after a days work. And Bill Evans and Miles Davis are playing Blue and Green but it feels as if it's a private concert and not just the tinny sound coming out of her crappy speakers. And did I mention the moon is full? And that the music is making her feel all melty and boneless. Sometimes the moon will trick you into seeing what isn't really there. Or, maybe more truthfully, it'll allow you to see more than really exists. The moon can do that, you know. Bill Evans and the light of a full moon on foreign soil, it can definitely do that to a girl.