Wednesday, July 27, 2011

TMFFS: Dancing on the Ceiling

This post is a follow up to Love is Blind, only I've been holding onto it till today because it's Gaga's birthday & I wanted to have something to write about him.

Scene: Still in school parking lot, conversation picking up from reference to Lionel Richie video where blind herione sculpts Richie's face in clay.

Me: ...what video was that anyway?
Gaga: Dancing on the ceiling.
Me: No, I think it was that one song: " it me you're looking for?..."
Gaga: No.
Me: "I can see it your eyes..."
Gaga: No,
Me:"I can see it in your smile..."
Gaga: It was dancing on the ceiling.
Me: "& I long to tell you so much: I love you."
Gaga: Seriously. It was dancing on the ceiling. I'm pretty sure because Lionel Richie dances on the ceiling.
Me: If you stop to think about this, that doesn't make sense. Dancing on the ceiling would be particularly dangerous for a blind person.
Gaga: They dance on the ceiling. That's why the song is called that.
Me:  I can't see how a blind girl sculpting Lionel Richie's face would some how lead to them dancing on the ceiling. Unless Lionel Richie just dances on the ceiling in all of his videos... wait, does he?
Gaga: No, he only dances on the ceiling in Dancing on the Ceiling.
Me: ...are you sure?

...later on, on facebook...


See I told you they dance on the ceiling!

Me:  I believed you that he danced on the ceiling. I didn't believe you that it was the same video with the blind girl sculpting his face (Which readers, it was not). & on a side note, man it looks like they had a blast. Fall Semester: House Party, Lionel Richie style. k?

Gaga: for sure, but only if we get to do face sculptings.

Me:  I was hoping you'd say that.

Gaga:  lol, you see we have SO much in common.


Gaga is a sneaky little skeez. He didn't tell anyone that his birthday was coming up & I just happened to see it by off chance on facebook. last night...He might be a Jehovah's Witness but I'm like 80% sure he isn't since he celebrates Christmas & Valentine;s day for sure.
So anyway, upon realizing today is his birthday, I rushed to the grocery store, bought some pretty chocolate cake & a bottle of cheap white wine, then showed up late to class today to give it to him.

& On my way to school, I sent Gaga a text:

Me: It's raining men! Well, not really but happy birthday! I love you!
Gaga: Aww, you're terrible. I was already going to go play in the rain.

Man, do I love this kid. Happy Birthday, friend. :)

Monday, July 25, 2011

My dad

As a military parent and primary bread winner of our family, my dad was gone a lot. 
But I always knew that he loved me more than anything else in the world; when he was home, he took the time to show my brother and I how wonderful he thought we were and how much we meant to him. 
For example, as a little girl, if I ever came to my dad in tears--from scraping my knee or getting bullied at school--my dad would always say, "Don't cry because it's breaking my heart."

& while it's entirely possible and maybe even likely that this was just a clever man's way of avoiding his daughter's tantrums, I never doubted for a minute that he meant it.
not when I was four and distraught that my big brother ripped my Barbie's head off;
not when I was eight and fell down a long flight of stone stairs while sight-seeing in Puerto Rico;
not when I was twelve and the first boy I liked rejected me because of my messy, curly hair;
and not when I was twenty one & called my dad--afraid of disappointing him and scared in general--to tell him that I was being arrested. 

I always felt that somewhere deep down, seeing me sad really did tear my dad up inside. 
& every time he'd say that phrase, "Don't cry because it's breaking my heart," I would let out one more huff, gasp big breaths of air, choke back the tears, and wipe my face. 
& that was that. 
Even as a little girl I could not stand the idea of making my dad sad, ever, let alone in situations where I could easily just stop crying and fix the problem. 

For the last year, my dad & I have lived in the same city--in apartments just down the block from each other. 
I think the opportunity to see my dad every week or every day if I felt like it (really the first time in my life that this opportunity has presented itself) has been a big part of my happiness in the last year. I can honestly say that my time in San Antonio has been the happiest time of my life, for so many reasons. Not only because of my dad, but because of the friends I've made in law school, the opportunity to get to know my brother better & all the people he's introduced me to, and maybe just because coming out here was like starting over.  
But I'm getting off topic. 

What I'm trying to work up to is that this morning my dad moved. 
Out of the city.
Out of the state.
Out of the south. 

& I know it's not like I'll never see him again but I still can't help but be sad that he's leaving and even sadder when I anticipate how much I'm going to miss him. 

This morning, we loaded the last of his bags into his U-Haul.
Before he climbed into the driver's seat, we both tried our best to be completely calm and casual about it all. 
We kicked pebbles by our feet, we scratched our heads, we avoided eye contact. We even collectively uttered the same awkward, "so..."
& this fake display of indifference was all going along so well
until we hugged good bye. 

With one arm wrapped around my shoulders, I felt my dad's other arm reach up to wipe his face. I looked up into his face to see him crying. 

I quickly looked away, feeling betrayed by this display of emotions--we had silently agreed to play it cool!
But I couldn't help it; those tears were eating me away on the inside & I cried, too. 
Still hugging, I told him, "Don't cry, dad. It's breaking my heart."

& we laughed a little before he kissed my forehead and got into his truck.

Friday, July 22, 2011

School Daze

In Family Law, while talking about jurisdiction, a student asked how she would go about filing for divorce from her wife and for custody of their child in a different state if she is not the child's biological mother. She asked the professor this question and finished with, "I just find this confusing taking into consideration all the changes in the law to same sex marriage." I felt very priveleged to have been alert for this part of the class room discussion (because generally I'm blogging or facebook stalking). Not because I actually learned something, but because it was semi-interesting.
Our professor answered the student's question to the best of her ability, spending maybe 20 minutes on this topic alone. The rest of us pretended that our classmate's airing of her dirty, Lesbian laundry didn't make things awkward. Then our professor moved on. She then spent 15 minutes taking other students' questions. As we moved on to another topic entirely, Gaga beckoned me closer to him. I leaned in.

Gaga: *whispers* I think the lady up front in the green (the woman with the same-sex marriage question) might be a Lesbian.
Me: *sarcastically surprised* No!
Gaga: No really!
Me: haha, that was really funny!
Gaga: ...what?
Me: wait, were you being serious?
Gaga: yeah...?
Me: ...

I feel good knowing that I'm not the only one not paying attention 100% of the time in this course.

Thursday, July 21, 2011

TMFFS: Hoes & Shoes

via facebook chat:
Me: i think you're right about facebook; i was looking at my news feed & 1 in every 4 posts are spam.
Solo: lol shoes?
Me:  shoes and hoes. haha  that was unintentionally clever; they're only one letter apart from being the same word.
Solo: lol you are funny.
so... read this. and when i say read i mean watch
Me: God, he could have at least took out his blue tooth before they interviewed him
Solo: in his profile he was tagged as a shoe
Me: OMG, I was JUST ABOUT to say that
Solo: ah shit. we have too much in common, think too much alike
Me: lol i know, i'm kind of amazed at how much i'm not sick of you already. jk
Solo: im trying to ignore that feeling and feign interest
Me:  lolol that was really good!
Solo: I'm glad you liked it.

Wednesday, July 20, 2011


Scene: laying by my friend, Kat's, pool at night, fully clothed...With Kat.

Me: So how's the law school application process going?
Kat: It's good. I wrote my personal statement the other day which I'm sure sucked.
Me: I bet it was great. Don't be so hard on yourself; I wrote my entire personal statement about growing trees. (This is, btw, entirely true).
What did you write about?
Kat: Well...did I tell you how I was living in a convent?
Me:...what? when?
Kat: Umm...from March until June. I just couldn't take living with my boyfriend and his family anymore, it was too crowded.
Me:... so you decided to be a nun?
Kat: what? No, don't be stupid. They let girls live there & the rent's pretty cheap.
Me: Well that's cool. How was that?
Kat: It was fine. The nuns were really nice. Except I didn't know that the Pope had banned the movie, DaVinci Code, & I would watch it every night before bed.
Me: Haha, were you ever caught?
Kat: No, but sometimes I wish I had been; I had the perfect response had one of the nuns caught me.
Me:  Let me hear it.
Kat: I'm sorry; the Pope & I aren't as close as we once were.
Me: I'm not going to lie, that was pretty good.
Kat: They also sent the Virgin Mary to live in my room for a week & I was like, "Well, she's the only virgin in here."
Me: You didn't say that. How did they send the Virgin Mary to your room? Like figuratively?
Kat: No. Literally. They put this five foot tall ceramic Virgin Mary statue in my room.
Me: they do that to everyone?
Kat: I don't know. I don't think so. I think they thought something was wrong with me because while I was out, they always heard thumping noises in my room. You know how Catholics are. Turns out they were just hearing Squirt's shell knocking on furniture or the door frame. I guess I forgot to tell them that I had a pet turtle.
Me: Are you allowed to have a pet with you in the convent?
Kat: Probably not. When they found out it was just a turtle and not a demon, they seemed relieved but they told me I had to keep him hidden from Sister Superior. Whatever that means.
Me: Isn't that nun that's the boss of all the other nuns?
Kat: Yeah, the HBIC.
Me: Haha. *pauses* you know, we should probably cut this conversation short. I have a feeling God is severly disappointed in us right now.
Kat: Yeah & he already doesn't like you because your mom's a Jew.
Me: debateable, ma'am.

Girl Crush

So the other night while watching a Jenna Marbles video, I realized: I would let her have me. *
(*IF I were gay. Which is a big if. But this if is nonetheless the premise of this post).

I feel I said way too much there in the parenthesis(es? plural?) but anyway.
Below is a list of women I'd either date, be, or both? I haven't quite panned this out yet. Let's see where this goes;

Jenna Marbles

Category: Date
Why: Because she makes me laugh. Which may not necessarily be hard to do but is important nonetheless.

If you have not heard of Jenna Marbles, look her up on youtube immediately. Then laugh. Then try not to make me jealous by making eyes at my girl. <--ha! jk.

The Cast of Pretty Little Liars *
* this is not limited just to the girls: I would date ANYONE, yes ANYONE, on that show.
Ezra Fitz? Yes, please.
But alas, I'm not here to talk about the men, but rather the ladies:

Category: Be.
Why: Because they wear insanely cool clothes, are surrounded by insanely handsome men, and live in a fake town that seems insanely cooler than everywhere else.

Whitney Cummings

Category: Be.
Why: I love everything that comes out of this woman's mouth. She's gorgeous, she's witty, she's rolling in cash as a successful comedian...etc, etc, insert additional praise.

Natalie Portman

Category: Date.
Why: Uber Intelligent, Amazingly Talented, Gorgeous, Funny. If you wouldn't date Natalie Portman, you have no soul.

Julia Roberts

Category: Both.
Why: I firmly believe that Julia Roberts is the Marilyn Monroe of our time. I can remember wanting to be just like Julia when I was a little girl watching Pretty Woman. Which probably calls to question why my mom let a 7 year old watch a story about a hooker giving BJs to Richard Gere but that's neither here nor there. I turned out okay.

Denise Huxtable

Category: Be.
Why: Because it was my life long dream until I turned 8 & realized you couldn't grow up to be another person. Dreams = Killed.

Tina Fey

Category: Both.
Why: Tina Fey is my idol. I have nothing else to say.

Marilyn Monroe

I had planned to stop my list at Tina Fey, but that would have been a bold-faced lie.
Category: Date.
Why: Oh, Come On! If you wouldn't bang Marilyn Monroe, then you don't love America, you Commie Bastard.

& finally:

Helen Mirren

Category: Be.
Why: I would sell my soul to the highest bidder * to look like Helen Mirren when I am her age, or really even just to look as good as she does when I'm 40. (*this is just a figure of speech.)

I feel like I've learned a lot about myself just now by pretending for the sake of this post to be gay. For example:
--If I were gay, I'd apparently have a thing for white girls;
--and funny girls.
--While coming up with the "why"s for this post, as you can see, I had a difficult time. This only reinforces the fact that I am no good at hitting on girls. & yes, I've previously written about this exact dilemma before.
--I can bang out a post that is a list in like half an hour. Yeah, be impressed.

Tuesday, July 19, 2011


To cut to the chase (because I'm in class right now pretending to listen & don't want to get too wrapped up in an introduction that will make the professor hip to the fact that I'm only here physically) yesterday, I decided to spend too much money on a tattoo.
& though it's really nothing like the photo I took in:
What I planned to get was the hourglass in this photo of a Banksy piece.
What I left with was a much more realistic hourglass. & I loved both so it's whatever.
I'm not complaining about that.

I would just like to say that my tattoo artist was crazy.
Like I was frightened & uncomfortable.
Like he was borderline psychotic.

Here are some samples of our conversations during the four, yes four, hours that I was his captive:

Artist: Such a little cunt.
Me: ...excuse me?
A:  I'm sorry I was just thinking about my ex wife.
M: Wow, it sounds like things between the two of you went really sour.
A: Yeah, I guess you could say that. But she's not the cunt, I was actually talking about her kid.
M: Her kid's a cunt?
A: Yeah her kid's the whole reason we got divorced. Apparently, she had a problem with me disciplining her kid.
M: Women and their kids. Always wanting to protect them from getting beat...

A: So what do you like to do for fun?
M: Umm... I keep a blog?
A: Do you write poems?
M: No.
A: I wrote a poem once about 10 years ago. It was called, "Dancing with the devil in the moon light."
*recites poem from memory*
You see, it's about how the devil is in all of us. In our darkest corners. He's there. Sometimes I think I feel him more than my own personality or the presence of God.
M: ... *clears throat*

A: So this one time, all of the artists at this other tattoo shop I worked at were talking about girls. & I walked up & was like, "Man, ya'll don't have game. Real game is when you can walk up to a straight up Lesbian and make her nervous. Like have her 'looking around the room for a way out' nervous." & right then, two lesbians came into the shop & I was like "Watch & Learn." So I went up to the one who was the most butch, and started chatting her up, started stroking her arms, her neck. & Sure enough, she got nervous. & I was like, "Hey, don't be so nervous. I don't bite." Except I whispered it in her ear. People think that as you get older, you lose your game. But I'm 42 & I still got it.
M: Nothing quite says manly display of masculinity as the ability to frighten women...especially Lesbians.
A: Man, I love women with short hair.

A: I don't know if any one's ever told you this but you're really very pretty. You've got this glow about you.
Are you sure you're not pregnant?
M: Not possible. But I can say with confidence that the glow is probably just sunburn. I went to the river yesterday.

A: I went through this phase once where I wanted to only have female friends. So dudes would call me and be like, "dude, what are you doing tonight?" & I'd be like, "hey, find some other friends." & then I lied to all the women at my office & told them that everyone was going out to this one bar, when it was really just going to be them & me. & it was so easy. They ALL showed up!
M: ...
A: I didn't get laid that night, though. But I DID make out with ALL of them. Two in the SAME car.
M: ...
A: At the SAME time!!!

A: My girlfriend LOVES to go fishing so I was going to take her & my roommate's girlfriend was all, "Where are you guys going?" & I was like, "fishing." & then she was like, "I like to go fishing." & I stopped & thought about it & was like, man I'm 42. I'm too old for this.
M: ...what do you mean?
A: I mean she was obviously throwing me hints that she's down. But I don't think my girl would be down for a   threesome & plus I don't need the drama with my roommate.
M: But all she said was that she liked to fish. Maybe she just wanted to go with you guys?
A: pfft. Girls don't like to fish. She was Dee Tee Eff.

A: I think plain Jane is sexy. Not lingerie.
M: ...
A: ...Do you like to wear lingerie?
M: *under my breath* wow, I'm uncomfortable.
A: I'm sorry I didn't catch that.
M: I said sometimes it can be uncomfortable...

Friday, July 15, 2011

You give me the kind of feelings only itch creams can cure.

I am no good at being someone's romantic interest.
For the following reasons:
I am easily embarrassed & don't respond to compliments well;
I am bathroom shy;
My body rebels against physical affection.

Case(s) in point:
The past two weekends I've spent with Solo, I've responded to nearly every compliment he gives me either by repeating it back to him or saying, "shut up."
There have been more occasions than I can count where I've nearly exploded from lack of peeing only to find that when I actually do excuse myself to the restroom, I spend the first 5 minutes hoping the faucet will drown out the sound of my pee and trying not to take way too long.
And finally, I break out into hives when Solo touches me. There's a slight possibility that I'm allergic to him.

& by slight I mean that I am definitely allergic to him.
Getting out of bed in the morning after sleeping beside Solo all night, I started to notice that my arms & legs had little itchy bumps all over. I didn't immediately think that I was allergic to him, though, until after our second visit when I realized that when we're away from each other, I don't have these rashes.

"...I think I'm allergic to you," I joked in between scratching my elbow and calves.
"Aww, don't be allergic to me!"
"Haha, maybe it's not you. Maybe I'm allergic to the detergent you use or your cologne."

Or maybe it's his lotion. Actually, there's like a 60% chance it's his lotion.
I know this because a very sweet gesture where he offered to give me a back massage (using the culprit lotion) turned into a very itchy, and whiny (on my part), evening that eventually ended in a trip to CVS pharmacy and a second massage where he was forced at knife point to rub mint scented itch cream all over my entire body.

& they say romance is dead.

As a matter of fact, I'd like to say that nothing really spells out "amour" quite like your partner still letting you be little spoon when you smell like an old lady with arthritis and are covered in blotchy, red patches of skin.

This photo isn't really relevant to any part of this post except where I metioned spooning in that last paragraph. But come on, it's adorable. 

Needless to say, I think Solo might be a keeper.

TMFFS: Something I wish I'd Written

A 23 year old woman I am facebook friends with decided to take a stab a creative writing. The following is her debut story:

"Sincere & then she was so lost & asked Love where to go & Love told her & Love started to walk away then Sincere kissed him & it turns out they went & had sex. Love didn't know, but he got Sincere pregnant & then the baby's name was Sincerely Lover." *

I find that this story has everything. Love, Sincerity, and a random hook up in an undisclosed location that ends with an illegitimate pregnancy. Someone call the people who published, Riding in Cars with Boys!

I also find that I'm tempted to use the same paint picture I use eveytime the subject of bastard children comes up. But I'm going to step outside the box today and NOT use it. Bet you didn't see that coming, huh?

* To re-iterate, TMFFS posts are usually status updates or notes taken from the walls of people I'm facebook friends with. The acronym stands for: Things My Facebook Friends Say. I change the names or choose to leave them out to protect the identities of my facebook friends. Everything is published to this blog in a TMFFS EXACTLY as it was on the user's facebook profile. I neither correct, embellish, nor fabricate facebook updates for these posts.**
** I have to include this disclaimer because I made an announcement on my facebook today that I changed my blog URL; this boosted my site traffic & exposed my thrown together posts to a slightly wider audience. Old readers, however, are still my favorite.

& also, in case you missed it: I changed my URL last month. Though I'm sure you realized this change in your address bar, my ever-alert reader(s), I am mentioning it nonetheless.
You can now access, Is this thing on? I wasn't prepared. at . <--basically if you're reading this right now, you're already doing something right.
This renders any and all scribbling of my former URL on bathroom stalls and bar tables, as a form of free publicity obviously, that I've done in the past, obsolete & no longer relevant.  & I've done A LOT of guerilla scribbling of my old URL on public benches, restaurant tables, walls, etc. <--ALL WASTED.

Thursday, July 14, 2011

TMFFS: Wait...What?

A status update from a stranger I'm facebook friends with:

My Grandpa Told Me... Birth Control Is A Mind Thing... So All You Ladies That Be Like "I Forgot To Take My Pill"... Ummm No... You Dont Need A Pill To Prevent A Baby... You Need Common Sense... I Never Took Pills Or Shots... And My Daughter Is 3yrs Old Now... So You Was Right Grandpa... I Love You And RIP♥


Does this seem like a really bad PSA advocating the use of birth control to anyone else or I am just cray-cray?

I somehow feel that "mental birth control" is not going to persuade your partner not to wear a condom.

As a matter of fact, in my mind, her status actually reads something like this:
Fellas, not wrapping it up puts you at risk to impregnate the illogical and the crazy. Be a good lover, wear a rubber.

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Love is Blind

Scene: Gaga & I are leaving our summer session class and walking towards the parking lot. A cute blonde pulls up to the curb and opens the passenger side door to her car, she smiles when a blind law student, Gary, approaches, hugs him, & helps him into the car.

Me: I wonder if that's Gary's girlfriend?
Gaga: He has a girlfriend?
Me: Yeah he told me so once. Is it wrong that part of me wants to stop and stare to see if they kiss? I mean it's not like he can see me staring anyway.
*Older student hears this & walks by me glaring.*
Me: (after her) Happy Wednesday!
Gaga: You're terrible.
*Blonde & Gary kiss after she helps him with his seatbelt*
Me: There it is.
Gaga: Omigosh, stop staring. It's cute that she's not blind.
Me:...I just want you to stop and think about that for a second.
Anyway, did I tell you about the one time that Gary told me he met a girl in Innsbruck? He told me that she was "super hot. Tall, Blonde, with Blue eyes." I wonder what that even really means to him.
Gaga: I'm sure tall, blonde, & blue eyes might not mean much but he can probably tell what "hot" is.
Me: So can four year olds; try sticking their hands on a hot stove--they aren't very keen to it.
Gaga: Even you are not that evil. & I mean hot like attractive. He can feel things with his hands.
Me: Oh please, this isn't a Lionel Richie video.

All three faces in this photo have mullets. Obviously this is kismet.

*Gaga stops walking and awkward pause ensues*
Gaga: HA!
Me: I know, that was good, right?

End of Hiatus

I've been in a writing slump.
Part of the problem being, I'm just going to come out and say it, I have a new boyfriend.
I've got this problem where if I feel there's something I'm supposed to address, it's like I can't write anything until I've finally banged it out. So here it is. I have a new boyfriend.
His blog alias is going to be Solo & you may remember him from last month's Wild Wild West post (then again, you may not. But trust me, that post did happen, he was in it, etc).
I guess something I've been grappling with is that I don't want to seem fickle; how long ago was it really that I was posting about Mr. Flintstone?
From my own overly judgmental perspective, in the past I've been quick to mock people who claim that they're in love, break up, and one month later have found a new partner who they're crazy about. But this is exactly what I've done. It's funny to find the shoe on the other foot (I don't even know if that's a real expression; I'm like that Nazi from Inglourious Basterds who can't get all his American foot euphemisms correct) & wonder whether people will judge me as harshly as I've judged others in the past.
So here's my disclaimer: I don't want to devalue my past relationships, Mr. Flintstone & I's included. I took so much away from every romantic fiasco to which I've been a party. Specifically, in Mr. Flintstone & I's relationship, I learned a lot about patience, about cultivating and maintaining separate identities despite being in a relationship, and a lot about knowing when a relationship has gone bad or died; sometimes, our relationship resembled a chapter of He's Just Not that Into You. On that last topic, I'd like to say that when you read relationship advice that is completely rational but still manages to derail you, something is wrong. When you go to books, magazines, or those ridiculous yahoo & msn articles for relationship advice, in general, something is wrong.
& though I'm uncomfortable talking about one relationship against the back-drop of another (I don't want this to read like a comparison) I will say: Solo happened by surprise. He came to San Antonio on a random Sunday & (as old acquaintances from Texas A&M) I showed him around (because the person he was really in town to see was busy). We had shaved fruit, he let me get him lost on the river walk for hours, we sat on bank rooftops and looked at all the late night lights of downtown San Antonio.

& that, by the way, is his very manly back.
Up there on that roof top, in the middle of some inane and ordinary conversation, I looked over at this guy and realized:
(1) He is breath-takingly handsome;
(2) He is incredibly smart and, moreover, witty;
(3) He laughed at all my jokes; &
(4) I was kinda digging him.

& I was lucky because he was digging me, too.

Chuck Palanhiuk once wrote:

“What I want is to be needed. What I need is to be indispensable to somebody. Who I need is somebody that will eat up all my free time, my ego, my attention. Somebody addicted to me. A mutual addiction.”

There was a point in time when I read these words and felt ambivalent; this sounded beautifully romantic to me but at the same time sort of, actually terrible. I never really wanted this for myself at all.

Solo is someone who gets under my skin in the best ways & while I can't say that we're immersed in mutual addiction, I will say it's a likely possibility that we'll get there. I find this thrilling.