The war on texting

     I understand the need to stay in touch with your friends. I also understand that it might come as weird to some you when I say that I don’t own a cell phone. Yes, that’s right, I don’t have one. Actually , I do have one but I just use it to listen to music. I’m not saying everyone should join me and throw away their electrical leashes. No, see the only thing I want to complain to you about it the texting-wow sounded a bit Bill Cosby. Anyways, I find it incredibly annoying the amount of texting people seem to indulge in. I once sat down next to a friend who had spent more than an hour texting. By this time I was so annoyed by it that I just turned to her and said “F#@#%$ call that person already”. I mean seriously, do you know how rude it is when you’re talking to someone and all of a sudden they flip open their phone to text someone else? No, of course you don’t. You’re probably one of those people. Can you blame the teachers for giving stares of death when they find someone texting in their class room? If it’s so damn important why don’t you step out and call the person?

     It’s probably one of those horrible habits people will end up going to psychiatrist for. Dear lord, I wonder what type of lunatics we’ll have 25 years from now?

     Another nervous tick people seem to have are with the sidekick phones and other phone that turns/flips when it opens. See the proud owners of these electronics know that they will engage in an hour long texting conversation but yet still close their phone. Only to open it 3 seconds later to read the incoming message. Then they proceed to type their response and close the phone again only to open it 2 seconds later. Do you see how that can drive the person next to the lunatic just as insane?! LEAVE THE FUCKING PHONE OPEN!

     Glad to have gotten that off my chest. Please be considerate of those who still hang on to our sanity.

An open letter to my neighbors

I don’t know any of your names because I’ve never taken the time to actually ask. I find it more interesting to just give you nick names based on your appearance/quirks. I do ,however, feel the urge to address some of you whether or not you will ever read this.

I want to start off with the dude that looks like my boyfriend:
You sir live in my same floor two doors down. Will it freaking kill you to be polite? I really never appreciated that you closed the elevator door while me and my folks where overloaded with grocery bags. Another thing, what the hell happened to your dog eh? Seems suspicious enough, one day he’s there and then WOOF! Gone!

My next concern goes to the guy who listens to country music down stairs:
I don’t know exactly where you live but I would love to get a glimpse of you. You don’t annoy me , you just fascinate me. In a predominantly Latin complex/city you really enjoy your country music. Every time I hear it on I rush to the balcony but alas you have already left. Who are you country dude?

To my Indian neighbor:
You sir live on my same floor but so many doors down that our balconies are actually facing each other. I don’t really have a beef with you either but I don’t know if within you I see a glimpse of my own curiosity. I understand that the green pimped out camero was an odd site to see. But was it really necessary for you to go downstairs, look both ways making sure no one saw you , and inspect every inch of the green pimp urban car? And what about that time I went to the complex pools and you popped out of nowhere and started to inspect every motorcycle that was there? Are you some sort of vehicle inspector? It’s funny but weird at the same time. Funny because you try to make sure nobody’s watching you but I’m always watching you. So I’m watching you watch out for other people to make sure nobody knows you’re watching other peoples car. Mind boggling, please stop, my brain hurts.

To my nice neighbor to the left:
You ma’am are an alcoholic. It’s not any of my business but I’m worried that when you step outside for your 27,241,231 cigarette you might fall to your doom and not even realize it.

And there you have it.

Love thy neighbor? Does indifference count?

Minnie the Moocher

Minnie the Moocher

You tend to regret some of the people that walk into your life. Others you remember with a certain amount of melancholy.  This woman I remember with almost a bitter taste in my mouth: as if her whole existence at one point seemed indulging but was ultimately poisoning me.  It isn’t easy to choose something specific about this woman to write about. It’s hard to pinpoint what aspect of my life she had the most impact. I suppose the easiest way is to introduce her:

We’ll call her Minnie. Minnie is married to my cousin, and has been for the last 13 years.  She’s a tall woman in her early thirties.  When she walked in a room she demanded your attention. She could have been wearing the oldest rag but on her it looked like a million dollars. She wasn’t slim but everything about her was expensive and where I come from that’s enough. Of course everything truly was expensive because my cousin is a former drug dealer.  Everyone knew this; small towns tend to hold very little secrets.  Upon meeting her she treated me like you would treat the thirteen year old cousin of your husband.  She spoke with an almost lazy humor. Like her politeness was forced.  But then there were times that she spoke vividly and seemed truly interested. Thirteen wasn’t the age I became acquainted with her:  that took time and serendipity.

Flash forward a few years and now I’m her husband’s seventeen year old cousin. Her pharmacy needed a trust worthy cashier. Someone who wasn’t money hungry and Minnie thought I’d be a good choice.  The first day was a basic drill about keeping my eyes open on the rest of the workers.  I was expected to be some sort of watchdog when they weren’t there, which was often. They trusted me too much. It would be hours and hours before they would even call their business to see how things were going.  Since I was family I was treated differently than the rest. One of the first things she told me was if I ever wanted anything to ask her, food, money or anything. She would bring me dinner, buy me drinks. She made it her priority that I felt comfortable around her. For some reason my mother and others would warn me to be careful around her. This was rather confusing because I didn’t exactly see how she would be of any threat to me. I mean we started to become friends. Slowly we were sharing things about each other. She was an intimidating person, no argument there. So the fact that she was nice to me made me feel like I was behind some sort of shield from her bitchy side.  The first few weeks were normal. Then I started to really let go.

I had met someone who also worked in another pharmacy. Minnie had known him for some time. She was more excited about our infatuation than I was. She would facilitate ways for me to see myself with him, even if that included covering for me at work. Her husband also knew this to the point that he even offered me birth control. This stunned me so much that all I could do was look at him and smile. He quietly put it in the drawer at my desk and said “It’s there if you need it”. Still all I could do was smile. I told this to my then boyfriend and his response was something that I now call “The first stone on the road to awareness”. He told me that I should have rejected the birth control. To my boyfriend, my cousin offering me birth control was a way of knowing whether or not I was sexual active. This struck me as odd but being or at least trying to be a reasonable person I didn’t discard it immediately. Instead I decided to observe closely their interest in our relationship.  It goes without saying that their interest in my personal relationship was not only overwhelming it was also a bit scary.  The reality was that knowing about my life and aiding me to get things that I wanted was a mean of control. I was miserable working there. I worked every day for laughable pay. But I was trust worthy, something they lacked at the time.  If even for a moment I would have a frown at work Minnie would sit down with me and did everything in her power to make me feel like a queen. Once home, I would rethink if it was a good idea to quit. In general, it was very astute manipulation.

Of course this came as a sacrifice on their part. In order for someone to trust you, you must prove that you trust them.  So Minnie and her husband would often times tell me the most outrages stories. Stores that included infidelity, drugs, crimes, vengeance. I would find myself as the ‘fly on the wall’ that was their marriage. I never shared anything anyone told me and they knew that. So Minnie would feel comfort in telling me when she cheated on him and with whom and likewise would her husband. It was a very odd situation. It got to the point that we were all tied to each other, bond with invisible chains of debauchery. They did everything I wanted and I did everything they wanted. I moved from one boyfriend to the next and in each one Minnie was our self-proclaimed counselor. She didn’t discriminate on who should be a viable candidate for my affection. As long as they were willing to be my subordinate, things like marital status were of no importance. And in and out of trouble we went and more and more I couldn’t recognize myself anymore. By the time I realized this I no longer wanted to be around her. I started to hate her and her husband for the sick people they were. They never showed interest in other people unless it was to their convenience. I no longer wanted to be associated with anything about her. So I slowly started to step down on our friendship. When Minnie would feel me pull away she’d run back into me out of some form of despair. She’d follow me where I’d go, she needed to know who I talked to, any form of secrecy or privacy was an act of betrayal to her. I suppose she felt that if I did walk away I’d lash out on her horrible attitude and thus revealing to the world her true colors. So she did everything in her power to maintain our friendship.

The fact is that I would have never done anything like that and I would like to believe that somewhere she knew this too. So my only other explanation for her sudden obsession with me was that she probably wouldn’t find anyone to listen to her crap and not turn Dr.Evil on her. Although my mother would suggest later on that she might be a lesbian and was in love with me. This makes some sort of sense because she was jealous of my best friend Mabel, and often accused her of being a lesbian and in love with me. I progressively fought the chains that bond us together. You’d think that I might have as well quitted. How could I tell my father, who trusted my cousin so much, the real reason why I wanted to leave the pharmacy. Could I have told him “He sniffs cocaine in the back room”? Or “I know more drug dealers than I should”? Thus it made it really difficult to leave. Time passed by and the pharmacy fell into hardship. This was due to her stealing from the pharmacy to entertain her friends/lovers and his stealing from the pharmacy to buy drugs and entertain his friends/lovers. This led to my cousin to take once again his old job as drug dealer and head to the states, at least to find enough money to restore the pharmacy to what it was. This scared me. A lot. I was in no way afraid of his safety but I was afraid of Minnie. He was going to be away for a few months and she was going to be here alone and in charge. What’s worse is that she’d have money so there would be more of that friends/lover thing. The reason why this startled me so much was because in the end things would come to light and I’d be a star witness, something that I didn’t want to be. So when he left I never spoke to her again. Since I worked the morning shift and she worked the evening shift we would only say goodbye and hello. I never took her calls or anything. I carefully counted every coin before turning over the shift in order to make sure any lost of money was not blamed on me. Even with all this the truth exploded and I was called as star witness. Minnie in a matter of one month stole 2,000$US, which is a lot of money on a small business. My cousin arrived back without saying one word to anyone, crying and upset over his wife’s betrayal. I remember just like today, that night Minnie called me and spoke to me for the first time in months. She was scared and didn’t know what to do. Her husband had suddenly gotten home to find her with a friend and some guy in their home. He got to the pharmacy where I was at the time and broke every glass counter he could get his hands on. He closed the pharmacy and took the long way to my house. He asked me what I knew and I told him the truth: I didn’t know anything. I had stopped talking to her. He believed me for the first two-days. But then his drug fueled rage would lash out on me again and again. He called me names, like backstabber and accused me of pretending to be a saint when I was a good nobody.

I learned something about Minnie in all this and that was that she was also a drug addict. Her husband in a state of anger made it his business to inform everyone. Everything about her became clear. She’d have this huge burst of energy and then fall into tears in a matter of minutes. There were times that she didn’t make any sense but I thought she was just being silly. It was drugs. This scared me even more than anything her husband could do to me. The fact is that I would hang out with this person; everyone knew I was her confidant. I would put up with her bullshit. How could this have escaped me? I wasn’t afraid that people wouldn’t believe my ignorance but that in fact I knew so much that I might have been a participant. I felt like I was in a no exit street. I finally spoke to my father and with tears asked him to please get me out and away from these vile people. Something holy intervened and he told me to hang on a few weeks because we were leaving the country anyways.

I left but in so I left it up to them to decide what my legacy would be. I’ve heard that I was ill spoken of after I left, from everything to robbery to covering up for both of them. Things like this hurt me but in a larger sense most people, at least the ones that matter know the truth. Does it give me any grief over the state that they’re in? (I mean every cent that comes their way is spent on cocaine). Well the truth is it doesn’t. What goes around comes around and if you make lots of money by killing people than you will die from the same thing.

I have never been in a situation like that before in my life. These people were voluntarily in my life and I couldn’t do anything about it. It was as if I was committing spiritual suicide by just having them around. I knew and was involved in more things than I feel comfortable sharing. But in a way I don’t blame them for my follies or the bad experiences. I earnestly believe everything happens for a reason and this was one of those things. It showed me how vicious people truly are. It changed the way I see personal relationships. I grew from being ignorant to being a cynic. I look at everyone now and analyze their attitude searching for any trace that made reveal them as drug dealers/users, backstabbers, liars, egomaniacs etc. I grew -without a doubt- I grew in the time I spent with her. I don’t know if I changed but I know I grew. There isn’t a day that I don’t thank God for having her and her husband thousands of miles away. I have never spoken to or heard of them again since I left. I’ve learned to never let myself get tangled with anyone like that again. Drug dealers or not I never in my life want to let another person in control of me ever again.

*Minnie the Moocher is a popular jazz song by Cab Calloway. The song is about a girl who was with a cocaine addict and she became a drug addict as well.

Good Forward


My friend sent me this forward and i think this is worth while to share. I didn’t forward but I’m going to post it here better. To share with my friends and those to come:
Subject: Remarks from CBS Sunday Morning (everyone should read)

The following was written by Ben Stein and recited by him on CBS Sunday20Morning Commentary.

My confession:

I am a Jew, and every single one of my ancestors was Jewish.  And it does not bother me even a little bit when people call those beautiful lit up, bejeweled trees, Christmas trees..  I don’t feel threatened.  I don’t feel discriminated against. That’s what they are:  Christmas trees.

It doesn’t bother me a bit when people say, ‘Merry Christmas’ to me.  I don’t think they are slighting me or getting ready to put me in a ghetto.  In fact, I kind of like it.  It shows that we are all brothers and sisters celebrating this happy time of year. It doesn’t bother me at all that there is a manger scene on display at a key intersection near my beach house in Malibu .  If people want a crèche, it’s just as fine with me as is the Menorah a few hundred yards away.

I don’t like getting pushed around for being a Jew, and I don’t think Christians like getting pushed around for being Christians.  I think people who believe in God are sick and tired of getting pushed around, period.  I have no idea where the concept came from that America is an explicitly atheist country.  I can’t find it in the Constitution and I don’t like it being shoved down my throat.

Or maybe I can put it another way: where did the idea come from that we should worship Nick and Jessica and we aren’t allowed to worship God as we understand Him?  I guess that’s a sign that I’m getting old, too.  But there are a lot of us who are wondering where Nick and Jessica came from and where the America we knew went to.

In light of the many jokes we send to one another for a laugh, this is a little different:  This is not intended to be a joke;  it’s not funny, it’s intended to get you thinking.

Billy Graham’s daughter was interviewed on the Early Show and Jane Clayson asked her ‘How could God let something like this happen?’ (regarding Katrina) Anne Graham gave an extremely profound and insightful response.  She said, ‘I believe God is deeply saddened by this, just as we are, but for years we’ve been tellin g God to get out of our schools, to get out of our government and to get out of our lives.  And being the gentleman He is, I believe He has calmly backed out.  How can we expect God to give us His blessing and His protection if we demand He leave us alone?’

In light of recent events… terrorists attack, school shootings, etc.  I think it started when Madeleine Murray O’Hare (she was murdered, her body found recently) complained she didn’t want prayer in our schools, and we said OK.  Then someone said you better not read the Bible in school.  The Bible says thou shalt not kill, thou shalt not steal, and love your neighbor as yourself.  And we said OK.

Then Dr. Benjamin Spock said we shouldn’t spank our children when they misbehave because their little personalities would be warped and we might damage their self-esteem (Dr. Spock’s son commit ted suicide). We said an expert should know what he’s talking about.  And we said OK.

Now we’re asking ourselves why our children have no conscience, why they don’t know right from wrong, and why it doesn’t bother them to kill strangers, their classmates, and themselves.

Probably, if we think about it long and hard enough, we can figure it out.  I think it has a great deal to do with ‘WE REAP WHAT WE SOW.’

Funny how simple it is for people to trash God and then wonder why the world’s going to hell.  Funny how we believe what the newspapers say, but question what the Bible says.  Funny how you can send ‘jokes’ through e-mail and they spread like wildfire but when you start sending messages regarding the Lord, people think twice about sharing.  Funny how lewd, crude, vulgar and obscene articles pass fr eely through cyberspace, but public discussion of God is suppressed in the school and w orkplace.

Are you laughing yet?

Funny how when you forward this message, you will not send it to many on your address list because you’re not sure what they believe, or what they will think of you for sending it.

Funny how we can be more worried about what other people think of us than what God thinks of us.

Pass it on if you think it has merit.  If not then just discard it… no one will know you did.  But, if you discard this thought process, don’t sit back and complain about what bad shape the world is in.

My Best Regards,  Honestly and respectfully, Ben Stein

Gigi’s law I hold to be true.


Everyone has heard of Murphy’s law. If you haven’t , it consists mainly that anything that can go wrong will go wrong. I didn’t choose that the title of my new entry because I needed something along the lines of , it was wrong to begin with.

I don’t know if this has happen to anyone before but let me set the scenario:
You look better than you have in years and can’t wait for that certain someone to see you. So expecting the day to come when you “accidentally” meet you prep yourself up to look extra special. You make sure your hair is done at all times , and your makeup is in place. You treat that nasty pimple that popped out of nowhere.
And days go by and nothing. You don’t “accidentally” meet. So then you realize ok it won’t happen out of the blue and we’ll have to set up a date.
Here begins Gigi’s law. You start to let yourself loose. Walking around in pijamas , not a dab of makeup on your face and your hair has seen better days. In fact I honestly think the comb is hiding from me. So guess what? Knock on the door. So you put pause on the tivoed episode of The Office, and there to see you in all your mess is that certain someone.

Yes I hold these to be true. The day you let yourself go the, the day the mirror was fogged even though no one was in the shower, that’s the day they’ll see you. And look at you like what the hell happened and you know that they’re thinking “maybe she photoshoped that picture.”

Damn gigi’s law damn you law. Had me running into the bathroom putting gel on my hair looking like alfafa. Because curly hair is motherfucker to tame. Made me put my glasses on so no one would see the bags under my eyes.

Thank God it was short. But this law I hold to be true.

Girly feet: Cute. Yours, not so much

I for some reasons unknown to me like to take pictures of my feet and legs. I guess having the camera in my hand without anything to take a picture of I just take the picture and my feet and legs end up being the star of the show. With that said I logged on today on msn and my friend talks to me. He’s a guaky skinny guy who just screams NERD whenever approaching towards another human being. Only thing is that this nerd is narcissistic.

I’ll let that sink in.

A narcissistic nerd.

Well he is. He has pictures of himself pouting and posing. I bet you he has pictures of Bill Gates pasted on a cover of playgirl. But that’s another story.

My point , and I do have one , is that on his display picture he has a picture of his toes. I’m not going to post it because I don’t want to get in trouble with anyone over that (but if you have reasons to believe otherwise heck hit me up I’m willing to share!) .

Why?! I mean it’s not even girly toes… it’s long and kinda hairy and you know its a guys foot. The only way guys smell good is when we buy them perfumes. You’re borrowing our tweezers then our eyeliners , now you think parts of your body are as cute as ours. First of all, unless your eyebrows are starting to resemble a letter of the alphabet leave them the fuck alone.Second, guyliners? If this is your way of stepping out of the bathroom (closest thing i have to a closet) just get it over with ( I have trouble assimilating emo) .Now this monstrosity!? Next thing I know I’ll going to see high perspective myspace pictures of yourself. Guys go back to reading comic books . I rather have a guy body slam me then asking me if his eyeliner is even.

Pictures of his toes!!!

*note: no gigis were hurt in the making of this entry.

10 things girls should know about girls

I read now and again the Esquire article “10 things you don’t know about women” which is written by different female celebrities. I find it very amusing because apparently the male can’t take his eyes off T.v to see what’s going otherwise his head would explode. With that said I submitted my own 10 list thing to them but I won’t show you that here ( don’t wanna give any easy rides to any guys ) . Instead I’m going to write a few things girls don’t know about other girls. Yes, it’s true , we’re so complicated we don’t understand each other sometimes. Well here it is:

  1. Just because I jumped up and down to see that my clothes DOES fit you it doesn’t mean you can make a habit of borrowing it.
  2. For the tenth time YES he likes you. *note: I just said that to shut you up.

  3. I have other friends I like to go out with. You can’t come because they don’t like you.

  4. I don’t care how much you paid for it, crocodile skin is not fashionable.

  5. Oh and the pants do make you look fat…..

  6. ….try one that doesn’t squeeze your “love handles” up to your breast.

  7. I don’t care how much I declare I don’t love Tom anymore it’s not ok to date him.
  8. ?

  9. Maybe his ugly cousin.

  10. I don’t want you dating my brother either. I know where you and your vajayja have been.
  11. Keep your menstruating mood swings to yourself. I don’t think people start wars because they were in a bad mood, therefore you shouldn’t either.