Dirty Tricks

Me: I wrenched my back something fierce last night, ya'll.
G: Giuseppe, I told you someone with back problems shouldn't try and do the whole Kama Sutra in one night.
Me: lol Hey! Tonight is the night for Kama Sutra. Have some respect for the holiday!
Y: Don't whine to me about your back issues. I had an allergic reaction to something and now I'm extremely Itchy-itchy-yaya-dada.
Me: LMAO! Wow, that seems like an insane amount of itchy you got going on there.
G: LOL. That was perfect.
Y: LMAO. Please don't ask why that's in my phone.
G: So what are ya'll going as for this 90's themed shindig I'm jealous of?
Me: Well, Grandpa Simpson...
G: lol Fucker.
Me: I'll go as Missy Elliot and Y can go as Lil Kim.
Y: LOL. But you're sluttier than me!
Me: lol But you already know your lines.
G: LOL. #DropDatMic
Me: Actually, I'm thinking about spending the day as a mature, functional adult (beginning now lol).
G: lol That should be fun.
Me: Yes. I look forward to people thinking I've finally gotten my life together, only to realize tomorrow that it was just a costume.
G: lol You sick bastard.
Me: lol Tis the season.

[Almost exactly an hour later]

Me: Some kid at Starbucks was gonna get the last muffin, so I cut in front of him. He called me out on it and I says to him, I says, "No, you shut up!".
G: LOL. I see going as a functional and mature adult quickly lost its novelty...
Me: LOL. Maturity and functionality are for losers.
G: lol You couldn't go one hour.
Me: lol I know. More proof that kids ruin everything.

Beauty I've Always Missed With These Eyes Before

I woke up this morning feeling overwhelmingly thankful for the good people in my life and seemingly unable to stop telling them all as much. People who choose day in and day out to love me when they're really under no obligation to do so is kind of amazing. I don't always deserve their love, but they keep on giving it anyway. And it really is a blessing to have people in your life who want nothing from you except your unconditional love. I'm not sure where all this thankfulness is coming from, but I've noticed the last few days that I've become more appreciative of everything in my life now. I went through a long period where nothing felt good, where I took so much for granted and, whatever the reason for how I'm feeling now, I'm so happy that I've finally learned to appreciate the good in life. Yeah, sometimes life sucks and it ebbs and flows faster than you're prepared for. But at the end of the day, you're alive and that's a major accomplishment in itself. It sounds cheesy as hell but be grateful for the people in your life, ya'll because they could choose to walk away at any given time. Or you could be gone tomorrow and the way you've lived your life up until that point would be your legacy. Make sure it's a legacy you'd be proud to leave behind.

90 Day Fiance

There's a show on TLC called "90 Day Fiance" and it's just entered its second season. The first one showed four dudes who brought their non-American lady friends over on fiance visas, which allowed the ladies into the country on the condition that they marry an American within 90 days. No marriage means they all go back to their countries of origin. Season one was addictive, ya'll. It offered up a pudgy American marrying a shady Russian who seemed repulsed by him, an equally shady, creepy American Mormon marrying a ridiculously good-looking Brazilian girl, a divorced man with two non-behaving boys and a nosy ass ex-wife marrying a woman from the Philippines who was led to believe he had his shit together (he didn't), and a potentially closeted fella from Oklahoma who married a gorgeous and hilarious chick from Colombia. Each couple met in a different way, but the only story that wasn't creepy or mail order bride-ish was the Okie who was on a trip with friends and met his intended at a club. And I think she was the only woman who gave up more than just family to move here as she had her own company and a college degree and a social life in Colombia (and then he moved her to Oklahoma...poor girl). Season one was good in a "let's see if any of them make it" kinda way (and so far, they're all still hitched). But season two is...it's gonna be a trainwreck.
This season there are six couples; four American men and two American women, and the fiance(e)'s come from Colombia, Brazil, South Africa, Tunisia, Nicaragua and the Philippines. Two episodes in, we have met all but one of the couples and every one of them makes you wanna say, "No...just no". Allow me to introduce themselves:

Brett & Daya

Brett is a divorced dad who's daughter spends the majority of her time with her mother in the Midwest. Brett, an awkward kinda dude, shares a house in Washington state with a couple of lesbians in their 50's and his best friend is a woman in her 60's who does not agree with his decision to marry Daya. Brett is the first person on either season of the the show to openly admit that he sought out a mail order bride, though claims he did it because women from the Philippines have "great marriage values". And Daya fits the mail order bride description to a T. She's incredibly high maintenance and materialistic, first getting miffed that Brett got her an arrangement of flowers instead of roses, then flat out accusing him of getting her a fake diamond for her engagement ring, an accusation she proudly repeats to his mother (who is younger than both his roommates and his BFF). Daya wants to get the ring "checked" and, if it's proven not to be real, she wants a new, bigger diamond ring. Brett's mother is already telling him to jump ship, and he was visibly upset when she accused him of giving her a fake diamond, but he claims to be in love with her and looking forward to her being an "insta-mom" to his daughter.

Danny & Amy

Amy is moving from South Africa to be with Danny in Pennsylvania. Both in their early twenties, they've agree to abstain from all physical activity except for quick kisses. Amy arrives in the U.S. in the evening hours and is whisked away to the middle of nowhere where she'll be staying with friends of Danny's (that she doesn't know) for the next 90 days. They literally spend 45 minutes together on the ride from the airport, then he shows her her room, tells her goodnight and leaves. She asks when she'll next see him and he says the next day after work, to which she replies, "But...what am I gonna do all day?". He says she can catch up on sleep and then tells the camera in a confessional that he thinks she has very different expectations about how often they will get to spend time together. Oh, and Danny's dad is against interracial marriage so we'll see how that works out.

 Justin & Evelyn

I'm just gonna say it - Evelyn is too good for Justin. She was a dance teacher in Colombia when gym teacher Justin struck up a conversation with her at a rugby match whilst on vacation. He's since taken a handful of trips back to see her, eventually proposing marriage. According to Justin's best friend (who finds out about Evelyn for the first time just before she arrives), he is a confirmed bachelor who never wanted to settle down so hearing that the dude is not only dating someone but engaged takes him back a bit. Evelyn arrives to balloons, a limo, flowers and banners strewn about Justin's bachelor pad and she can't stop smiling about it all. But, cuz you know there has to be a but here, reality sets in the next morning when she wakes up to a sink full of dirty dishes. She asks Justin what's up with that and he says he doesn't really like housework and he can't do the dishes at that moment because a game is on and he then proceeds to ask her to do them. She begrudgingly puts everything in the dishwasher while telling the camera is bachelor lifestyle isn't going to fly anymore and that she didn't come here to be a maid. But really, that's what Justin wants is a live-in maid who will have sex with him. He further proves this point by revealing no one in his life knows about Evelyn and he's in absolutely no rush to tell them. Of course, Evelyn wants to meet his family and get to know the in-laws during the next 90 days. But Justin, who says he's incredibly susceptible to the opinions of others, doesn't see it as a big deal that she's his little secret.

Danielle & Mohamed

Here, we reach the first of two couples that have an American woman bringing over a foreign guy. And both women are a hot, hot mess. But Danielle is by far the worse of the two. Danielle has four kids; a 21-year-old son who is out of the house and three teenage daughters who still live with her. Danielle met Mohamed in what she calls an "international chat room" (I didn't even know chat rooms were still a thing, but okay), where later proposed to her. She worked all kindsa overtime to get a ticket to see him in Tunisia before ultimately accepting his proposal and agreeing to bring him over to the U.S. Danielle is 41, a larger lady with thick glasses and Mohamed is 26 and reasonably attractive...and Danielle herself sees the issue here. In fact, she's so aware of the differences that you can tell it's in the very front of her mind all the time. Mohamed has to take two flights to reach her, one from Tunisia and another from NYC to Ohio, but he doesn't phone her in between making his connections and she has a meltdown. MELT. DOWN. We're talking full on crying and blabbering about, "what if he didn't get on the plane, what if he got here and just left because all he needed was a way to get to America". Her teenage daughters have to talk her down before they go to the airport to see if he made it to Ohio. After an hour-long search of the airport, Danielle finds Mohamed and they hug but don't kiss and Mohamed shows no semblance of any emotion towards her. Upon arriving home, Mohamed puts the kibosh on sex by saying his religion forbids sex before marriage and then goes on to tell the camera that physically Danielle is "acceptable" for him. Such a sweet talker, that Mohamed. Danielle's son later confronts Mohamed and expresses his concern that the guy is scamming his mother and Mohamed combats the accusation by saying he gave up his own job and family to be with Danielle. Mohamed never says he loves her or can't wait to marry her or that he's at all excited about anything. Danielle comes off a teenager dealing with hormones for the first time in her life, regularly breaking down in tears over something. I don't know if that's because she knows what everyone's thinking when they see the two of them together, or because her gut is telling her that what everyone's thinking is probably true.

Chelsea & Yamir

I don't like Chelsea. At all. She's selfish as they come and whines about how hard it is for her, an American from the Illinois suburbs, to move her Nicaraguan boyfriend to the States. Yamir (I love his name) is one-third of the biggest, and only, boyband in Nicaragua, Myla Vox. Twentysomething Chelsea was in the country to do charity work when she attended a Myla Vox concert and locked eyes with 28-year-old Yamir. Just months later as she prepares to depart for home, "they" (read: Chelsea) decided he should come with her on a fiancee visa. Needless to say, Yamir's manager/father figure Gabriel was less than thrilled about the news, partially because Myla Vox are in the middle of launching a new album. He wrote Chelsea a long letter about how he feels about her and the move, though I'm not sure why as he has no trouble saying things to her face. He broke it down for both of them by asking what exactly was going to happen when they got back to Illinois, considering Chelsea has no paying job to speak of and Yamir barely speaks English. Singing is all he's ever known and it's not like he can do that in the middle of nowhere, Illinois. Chelsea has no good answer but has mini-crises of conscience where she thinks she might be selfish in moving him, but then immediately contradicts herself by saying "when you love someone, you follow them to the ends of the earth," and, "it's really hard being the one to move him away from his family and group". Yes, Chelsea, I'm sure all of this is tough for YOU. It seems as though they never considered doing something long-distance or for her to extend her stay in Nicaragua, as if the only option to remain a couple was to move and get married immediately. Myla Vox's future is uncertain without Yamir, so his decision to leave has ramifications that extend far beyond himself. I mean, it's not like she's forcing him to go, he did choose to say 'yes'. Gabriel hammers home how uncertain things are at a band press conference where he announces Yamir's engagement and makes Chelsea stand up and take a bow so everyone knows just who he believes shares the majority of the blame for what might be a Myla Vox split.

Separately, any of these stories would be a trainwreck but woven together, they're even more ridiculous. And I'm quite curious to see how it all plays out (and I am not ashamed to say as much).

Rat Bastards And Broads

When life permits, I've been playing "L.A. Noire" on Xbox. This game is about three years old but I bought it on a whim a few weeks ago and almost immediately became obsessed. The whole vibe of the game is amazing. It's set in 1940's Los Angeles, around the time of the still unsolved Black Dahlia murder. You play a detective named Cole Phelps as he works his way up from being a uniform officer and rises through the ranks of detective. Once a detective, Phelps, a war hero who has trouble accepting such a label, does time in a number of areas within the LAPD; Traffic, Homicide, Vice and Arson. Each department brings its own unique challenges and drama. Interspersed throughout the game are calls that come in on the radio for various minor and major offenses that you can choose to respond to. This game has everything; 1940's Los Angeles in gorgeous detail (including the Hollywoodland sign), some sweet vehicles from the time period (and I'm not even into cars), shootouts, interrogations, drug busts and car chases. It also incorporates a number of cinematic elements that serve to both advance the overall story and give you clues in the cases you're working to solve. It's part movie, part video game and totally enthralling.
One of the neater parts of the game is the music. There's the typical noir type music you'd expect to hear, but when you're in a car driving to your next destination you can hear radio shows and commercials and music from the 1940's. And what you hear depends on which care you're in (as an LAPD officer, you can commandeer any car you want). Sometimes I pay close attention to the radio and other times I'm more focused on what I have to do next in a case, but I couldn't help but listen closely when my ear caught the lyric, "Last night I went out drinking, came home and gave her a beating". All of a sudden, I turned into a Minion, "Whaaaaaat?". Then, I pulled the car over and listened to the rest of the song and caught another line, "His family, they're swearing to kill me, and if I killed him, he had it coming". It. Was. Hilarious. So much so that I resolved to find the full song and lyrics. And I was in luck because the awesome developers of the game included all of the credits for the music in the game's manual. It turns out that it's an Ella Fitzgerald song called, "Stone Cold Dead In The Market" and in its entirety, it's even more glorious that originally thought. This woman's husband goes out drinking, comes home and beats her and she takes a rolling pin to his abusive ass and kills him. And she says to his family, she says, she'd do it again and she don't care if she gets the electric chair for having done it. Hell, the husband even sings a verse after she kills him. Obviously, the subject matter isn't what's funny per se. It's more the happy tone they sing the entire song in. Like, "Yeah, he was abusive and I killed him for it but don't worry, be happy ya'll!". Tis the only song from the 40's that graces my iPod now. Thank you "L.A. Noire" for enriching my life in more ways than one.

Italian Roast

I've stated before that I'm a big fan of MOC's boyfriend. He's funny, he's smart and gosh darnit, people like him. It's also nice to have an Italian in the family again. I grew up around a couple of them and it'll be nice if Miss N can do the same (although she's yet to meet him, we're shooting for the holidays). He's also ridiculously talented, having taken up the guitar and drums in his youth. But he, MOC and I differ in just what instrument Miss N should stick with...

Me: Miss N asked me to teach her guitar and I'm stoked about it.
MOC: That'll be awesome. Daddy-daughter guitar lessons. 
Gio: She's playing piano so beautifully. Why not wait on guitar? Do you want her to play Carnegie Hall someday, or do you want her to be some rock star?
[MOC and I look at each other and contemplate for about five seconds]
MOC & Me: Rock star!
MOC: She could be the next Stevie Nicks!
Me: Oh my god, that would be amazing. Yes, let's make her the next Stevie Nicks!
Gio: *Walks away whilst mumbling in Italian something that was probably disparaging to both of us*

Somehow that straight from Italy accent even makes insults sound classy.

Wasted Away Again In Margaritaville

Well, it's been nearly a week since the gay wedding heard round the world and I haven't had time until now to properly go into everything that happened. Really, it was less a wedding weekend and more Crazy Aunt's kegger weekend. I swear to you, the woman was durnk the entire time. But we'll get to that in due time, kids. First, the wedding itself was awesome and the reception kicked ass. There was an open bar (of course, this is my family after all) and a mashed potato bar and a dessert bar. There were probably other things like dancing and toasts and ish, but I was in it for the bars. We later found out that another option they'd considered but ruled out was a s'mores bar and I though there was gonna be a riot over that. But three outta four bars ain't bad. We went to the football game Sunday night as a family, which was a great way to end the weekend. The grooms are heading out on their honeymoon this weekend.
And now, to the portion of the program I enjoyed most, Crazy Aunt's antics. I mean...words escape me, ya'll. It all began with the auto-erotic asphyxiation discussion on the way home from the airport last weekend (as documented here, in all it's hilarity). Then, she said she was nervous and needed something to "take the edge off" and began dipping into the alky-hol at around 11AM on Saturday. Mind you, this was after having had a good amount of drinks the night before at the rehearsal dinner. The cousins and I went to breakfast and came home at around 3 to find her slurring her words and having some difficulties coping with all the gravity that surrounded her. We gave her some coffee to try and mellow her out since she had to direct some of the wedding festivities and make a speech later and that seemed to give her a second wind. The ceremony went without a hitch, and then it was time for her toast. ...The toast...what to say? She rambled on and on for a good ten minutes and included such gems as; "This is the first wedding I've been to where no one getting married had vaginas and I loved it.", "I wish one of my kids was gay but they're not because they don't love me", as well as inquiring whether any of the rest of us were gay "including those with vaginas" whilst shooting my 8 months pregnant, single cousin a knowing look. She capped all of that off by wondering if she should just be gay, given that her three marriages to men didn't work out. Eventually, she passed out in a lawn chair in the neighbor's backyard after having mingled incoherently with the other groom's family (who probably didn't find it as hilarious as the rest of us did, but who cares?).
Did Crazy Aunt's hilarity stop after the wedding? Oh hell no. The next day, despite drinking coffee from the late morning hours until we left for the game, she still seemed...well, durnk. Maybe all that liquor stored up in her body and was on some kind of time-release system, I don't know. Whatever the reason, she proceeded to tell me that she got married at 19 and was too young and cautioned me to wait until I'm "at least 28" to get married. I took the bait and told her 28 was just around the bend for me, and was greeted with, "OH! Mijo! We should take a trip when you turn 30!". She had some kinda enthusiasm in saying that and I didn't have the heart to say, "A) I'm 33, B) You're still drunk and C) You're so drunk that you haven't had alcohol in 10 hours and you're still slurring your words.". After that, she settled in and watched the game and swore off alcohol for "at least a few days". Crazy Aunt, almost a week later, is finally back to her old, slightly less crazy self. She mentioned to me that she never got to go to college and I told her that she pretty much got the whole college party experience over the weekend. That seemed to cheer her up. And thus, my work here is done.

The Vagina Monologue

I'd been home all of about twenty minutes and then this happened...

Crazy Aunt: Now, everybody has to take pictures at the wedding. There's gonna be Funsaver cameras on every table. 
Cousin: What?? Why can't we just use our phones?
Crazy Aunt: No phones unless it's an emergency.
Me: Who the hell even still stocks Funsaver cameras?
Y: lol What if I urgently need to take a photo? Then can I use my phone?
Crazy Aunt: No! We are using the Funsavers!
Cousin: Can you even get that film developed anymore?
Groom 1: Who develops film? You didn't tell us about these cameras.
Crazy Aunt: Stop complaining or I'll start telling you all about the horror of menopause.
Y: What horrors? You don't get your monthly pain anymore, consider yourself lucky!
Me: Gee, I can't wait to attend your 1990's style wedding this weekend.
Groom 2: LOL. Yeah...me neither. I knew I shouldn't have let her plan it.
Crazy Aunt: I think the worst thing about the menopause was the vaginal dryness.
Me: LMAO! Ewwwwww.
Y: LOL. Yuck. My ears, MY EAAAAAARS!
Groom 1: That is disgusting. Just stop.
Crazy Aunt: I'm sorry, mijo. I forgot there were people in the car who don't like vaginas.
Me: LOL. Good god, Miss N cover your ears.
Crazy Aunt: Why does she have to cover her ears? She likes vaginas.
Y: LMAO! Jesus...
Me: Oh my god...
Crazy Aunt: By the way, have you ever slept with a woman, [Groom 1]?
Groom 2: [Crazy Aunt!]
Crazy Aunt: Well, I don't know if he has. I know you have. How does he know if he's gay if he's never tried everything in the buffet line, you know?
Me: LOL. This is glorious.
Groom 1: Um...no, I haven't. And I'm sure I'm gay lol.
Groom 2: Let's just sit in silence the rest of the ride, okay? lol
Me: Hey man, welcome to the family.
Groom 1: lol Yeah I'm starting to rethink  joining up.
Me: lol It's understandable. I don't know why anyone gets joined in holy matrimony to this mess once they've spent the holidays with us.

"The Whiteness Project"

So PBS, for some inexplicable reason, decided to greenlight something called, "The Whiteness Project". It's aim? For white folks to send in videos to the "filmmaker" talking about how hard it is to be white in the U.S. of A. Are you fucking kidding me?? I was upset before I even read some of the comments people make in their videos, and now I'm all kindsa pissed off. And actually, somewhat amused that some white folks actually think this way. One lady said she faces the same kind of bias as minorities because she's heavily tattooed. While I don't disagree that heavily tattooed people do face some obstacles, I have a problem with her assessment for two reasons; One, you CHOSE to get those tattoos, knowing full well what kind of perception many people would have of you because of it. We minority folk don't get to choose our skin color or culture. You brought the bias on yourself. Second, that bias has nothing to do with you being white. If you were any other color and covered in tattoos, people would still have a certain idea of what kind of person you are. There was another fucker whining about how his fire department would not promote him because they needed more minorities as higher ups. He forgot to mention that the whole reason for the situation is because for decades minorities were not even considered for major promotions, and for decades before that, weren't even allowed on the force. The reason they have to consciously look for more minority candidates is because we were denied such positions of power based solely on skin color. This guy's real problem is that he was born a few years too late and missed out on the days when the white dudes ran everything and the minorities were there only to take orders. Yet another man interviewed openly says that African-Americans are still "using" slavery to get ahead in the world, thus making it harder for him to make his way in the world as a white man. ... Um, let's recap how the white man came to power, shall we? It's a short story, really. Columbus, who was actually a Spaniard, came to America, slaughtered the Native Americans and claimed that he'd "discovered" the land. From then on, the white folks had free reign of the land and eventually decided that anyone who wasn't white should have no rights and instead be enslaved and used as their owner saw fit. The Civil Rights Movement began in 1954 and, some sixty years later, it still has not fully accomplished its goal of equality for all. Somebody is always being denied some kind of right; the right to vote, the right to marry whomever we choose, the right to equal pay, the right to eat and drink in the same establishments as everyone else, the right to become a citizen. Those who are white and affected by any of those things are not affected because they are white, but because they are female or homosexual. To say that you've not had it any easier because your skin color is white is absurd. Because, in some way or another, you have. Your ancestors were not owned by someone else. You're not the butt of racist jokes. You've never been told, "learn to speak the language!", or, "Go back to your own country!" by ignorant fucks who think they own the joint. You've never been profiled and followed through a store solely because you have dark skin. People want to act like racism is dead just because there's a black man in the White House, but the truth is that it's as alive as it ever was. Yes, we've made significant progress but by no means is it enough. It's not enough until everyone is equal and it's not longer a major achievement to have a Latino in this branch of government or an African-American as a leader in that field. These things should be the norm, not the exception. And that's why it's amusing to hear white folks bitch about how difficult their lives are because they're white. Even when they officially become the minority in this country, which they may have already, they will still have it ten times easier than the rest of us did when our numbers were fewer than theirs. All of their major battles for equality have already been won. If they even had to battle much to begin with.

Dentures And Dangerous Sexual Adventures

Me: I woke up with the "Pina Colada Song" stuck in my head. The one where the dude suffocates.

Cousin-in-law: LOL. Where did you even get that from?
Me: I don't know. I was like 8.
Cousin: How does one suffocate during sex?
Crazy Aunt: It's that auto hypnotic association.
Me: LMAO.
Cousin: I think she means auto-erotic asphyxiation
Crazy Aunt: Yes, that's what it's called, right Giuseppe?
Cousin: LOL
Me: ...Why are you asking me??
Crazy Aunt: Calm down, mijo. I just hear you're very sexually experimental, that's all.
Cousin: LMAO. Yeah, chill out son!
Me: You "hear" this how??
Cousin-in-law: Maybe a couple of your sexy lady friends are in her shuffleboard group.
G: LMAO! You know what they say, loose dentures can't help but blab about sexual adventures.
Me: LMAO. I'm flipping you both off soooooooooo hard right now.
Crazy Aunt: lol Hey, I don't play shuffleboard! Just be careful if any of you do that! It can be very dangerous.

Me: ...This is mortifying. If I had a weapon right now...

G: *Hands you rope and a lime to bite down on so you don't die*

Cousin: ...A lime? How do you know the protocol? lol

G: It was on an episode of some show we were all watching, I don't remember which one. Giuseppe?

Me; Uh, I have no knowledge of the specifics of auto-erotic asphyxiation and I'm a little concerned that you do. It's dangerous, you know.

G: lol Stop playin', you saw the same damn show!

Cousin-in-law: [Crazy Aunt], it sounds like G practices auto-erotic asphyxiation.

Crazy Aunt: [Uses G's full name], that's not safe, especially if you have kids someday and one of you dies during. I want you to stop doing this, okay?

G: I'VE NEVER DONE IT, I DON'T KNOW HOW, I'M NOT INTERESTED!! I just saw it on TV!!

G was right, we did see it on TV. Auto-erotic asphyxiation was the cause of death for someone on "Six Feet Under". I just wanted payback for his dentures crack (which was fucking hilarious, but still). Mission accomplished, I'd say.

W-A-R

The other night, my mom, Y and myself all went to see Fleetwood Mac (the original lineup, thank you very much) in concert at MSG. This is maybe the fourth or fifth time my mom has visited me since I've lived here because she's not crazy about this city. She's previously said the only reason she'd come back is if it were for my wedding or the birth of another child, but I didn't even get halfway through the sentence, "I have Fleetwood Mac tickets" before she started booking a flight. Little did I know, the whole thing would come back to bite me in the ass on two fronts.

The guy next to us at the concert was supposed to be there with his daughter, but she had to back out the day before because of a business trip and he couldn't find anyone else to go, so he sold the second ticket and went by himself. (There were a lot of other parent/grown child combos there, which was awesome). He struck up a conversation with us before the show, during which my mom wanted to know how old his daughter was and if she was single, and he assumed Y and I were both mom's biological kids and also assumed that Y was older than me and that I was about ten years younger than I actually am (all of these assumptions based on sight). This infuriated Y, to the point where even a day later I was dealing with comments like...

Me: Well, I thought he was a nice guy.
Y: You would. "Oh, you think I'm only 24? You wanna have some sex?"
Me: LOL. I did not proposition him, ma'am. You're just bitter because he thinks you're an old cat lady.
Y: LOL Fuck you. I'm engaged and I have a child! Nobody wants to marry you!
Me: I'm gonna marry that dude's daughter before the holidays just to spite you.
Y: lol See, now I believe you'd marry out of spite.

The debate between us continued to rage into today when she decided to fire shots in the form of a VERY old picture of me in which I have, shall we say, questionable facial hair. It's war now, yo. WAR!

Lazy Dayz

Me: *bitich slap* You're a liar!
Me: Bitich slap is when I slap you so hard that you stutter whilst going down to the floor
Friend: LMAO! Like smacking a record player
Me: LOL Precisely
Me: Sometimes typos is good
Friend: Ho yeah. Having them work out in your favor is a talent
Me: lol I haven't even had coffee yet and I came up with that stutter biz
Friend: I'm is impressed

==========

Friend: I just ate, and my stomach still feels hungry
Me: I haven't eaten yet
Me: Or still had coffee
Me: It's not enough that the Keurig makes one cup of coffee exactly how I want it anymore, I need it to physically come to wherever I am too.
Friend: LOL I have the same damn problem. I'm staring at it like I can use the Force to make coffee with it.
Me: LOL Right? Bend to my will, damn you!

The Ladies, Man

This morning I tweeted this:

"Tres excited for the Mac Attack tonight with my favorite lady!"

And then my phone blew up with the following conversations (and a special shout out to Google Hangouts for allowing e'eryone to see when I'm online, which is always since I have a smartphone #DamnItAll).

Y: Ahem, I thought I was your favorite lady?
Me: You're one of my favorite girls.
Y: Excuse you, I am not a girl.
Me: lol And not yet a lady. But give it some time whislt you're in between.
Y: LOL. How you attract women when you can quote Britney Spears is beyond me.
Me: lol You're still here, aren't you?
Y: So true.

==========

Sister: Hey! I saw your tweet. I don't get any love?
Me: You know I love you, and you're one of my favorites, but Mom is considered a lady. And you is not.
Sister: LOL. Yeah, Mom - who has made two racially insensitive jokes in the last three days - is a lady. Okay.
Me: LOL. That's how I like my ladies - smart, funny, and occasionally wildly inappropriate.
Sister: lol Ain't that the damn truth.

==========

Youngin: I want to go on record as saying that I'm already suicidal about not being able to go to the show...you need not rub it in via social media. #Scoundrel
Me: LOL. Wtf calls someone a scoundrel anymore?
Youngin: Ladies. Suicidal ladies, that's who!
Me: Well hold off on the suicide until the show is over.
Youngin: lol Your concern is overwhelming.

The Labor Act

MOC bought a bookcase over the weekend and asked me to assemble them. Spoiler alert: it did not go without a hitch.

Me: This has the steps of the instructions labeled as 1, 2, 3, 2, 3, 5, 6. Wtf? Wait...what is this part? I don't even have that part. These shelves are stupid.
MOC: You know...I asked you to do this because you're the most handy of all my friends...but maybe I overestimated that.
Me: lol Please, you asked me because Gio is out of town and you wanted some free labor.
MOC: And speaking of labor, I endured it and had your child so I think you can build me some shelves without giving me attitude.
Me: You know, I came over to help because you were one of my nicer friends...but then I remembered that we're family and therefore we can't be nice to each other.
MOC: lol I have a feeling that will be the only nail you hit on the head during this shelf buildin'.

For the record, I built those shelves soooooooooo hard.

Ghetto Love

Me: So get this...I'm coming home from the party this morning and I see this pregnant chick having trouble carrying some stuff, so I help her out.
G: Jesus, you really just can't help yourself, can you? Lol
Me: lol Shut up. Anyway, she turns around to say thanks and it's the neighbor chick from down the way that I almost dated that one time!
G: Oh damn! She was hot. 
Me: Word. Apparently it's just her, no father involved. She's like eight months along already.
G: LOL. Here's a question - is that one yours too?
Me: LOL. Bitch
G: Giuseppe, you are...NOT the father.
Me: "I done told ya'll it ain't mine!" *flings chair in ager because he ghetto reputation is now shot to hell*
G: LMAO, ghetto reputation.

Today's Debauchery Is Brought To You By Bryan Adams

Sometimes you get into a perfect storm of a conversation, as was the case today when Agent W and I jointly decided to do nothing all day. Her devoutly religious mom, lovingly referred to as Mama B, was also already running on weekend time and was running errands that she didn't need to, such as going by a church for a funeral when the funeral isn't until tomorrow. I made a joke about how she could be the grim reaper and shortly after peeps see her, they'd die. We also touched on a convo we had earlier in the week about how Y asked me to be her best man, but with the stipulation that I behave myself amongst the womenfolk at all wedding events I attend. (Shockingly, everyone I told about this had the same answer about it being impossible for me not to flirt with chicks. The nerve!). All of that came up in today's conversation and...well...

But I Walk That Line, I Try To Keep My Senses And Make It To The Other Side, I Know The Consequences

You know that whole thing where you get to take a step back and and examine something from a greater distance than you used to? Yep, I'm there. The last two weeks of September were quite interesting for me and have resulted in the end of a relationship that ebbed and flowed for almost exactly seven years. And I think it might actually be a good thing. Lately I've been cleaning house, so to speak, and the timing of this fits right in with everything else. There are a lot of good people in this world but sometimes we get so bogged down with the bad ones and it clouds our vision. Not to say this person is one of the bad ones, she's not at all, but I've always figured something would eventually have to give between us. We straddled the line between being a part of each other and being completely independent of each other for way too long. But it still stings to let go. Probably because I'm 99% sure this letting go is for good, something we've never been able to fully do in the past. But the circumstances have made that a tiny bit easier for me. And you know, it's impossible to sum up seven years in one post. And I really have no desire to do that anyway. So I'll leave it with this song that sums up the situation quite nicely...

(BTW, this entire album is fantastic, ya'll.)

Dun, Dun, DaDun. Dun, Dun, DaDun

Well, October is officially upon us and you know what that means - my family's big fat gay wedding is just around the corner. And Crazy Aunt has kicked it into high gear while putting the finishing touches on everything. I have to say, most of us thought this would be a big, rainbow colored hot mess when she appointed herself the wedding planner but, at least from what I've seen so far, it looks like it's gonna be pretty great. But then I guess no one knows how to plan a wedding better than someone who has had three of her own. And really, it's more about the commitment than the party. It's been a very long, often trying, road for the happy couple and I'm glad they've made it to this point.

Events in my own personal life recently led me into a conversation about how "meant to be" comes in all kinds of shapes and sizes. For some, it's a blind date that turns into a lifelong affair, while others break-up and make-up a dozen or so times before finally committing to each other for the long haul. The sister and brother-in-law are a good example of how things never happen the way you expect - she wouldn't give him the time of day in the beginning and he swears he knew she was it for him from the moment they met and they've lasted sixteen years thus far. One of my exes' sisters met and married her dude within a four month span and they're still together over a decade later. R& A have been an endless stream of break-ups and make-ups and are going on ten years together. The point is that you can't predict whether something will last based on what came before the marriage. The happy couple themselves were on and off at least a dozen times before finally committing to get married and I think they're going to do just fine.

Marriage, as I understand it and as its been broken down for me expertly of late, is work and you get out of it what you put into it. That said, I think I understand why they say not to get hitched in your twenties. Let's face it, we're idiots in our twenties and we think we know everything about everything when really, we don't. What you want in your twenties is quite different from what you want in your thirties. I used to think random hook-ups and screwing around was an awesome way to live and now the thought of any of that makes me...tired. I'm all for having a blast in your twenties, Fonz knows I had more than my share of the fun, but that's all you should be allowed to do - have fun. No matter how mature you are, it's inevitable that your views, feelings and thoughts will change once you hit the next decade of your life. I know a ton of people who got married in their twenties, only to divorce once they got into their thirties, not because they didn't work at it or didn't love the person but because they both changed so much that they just weren't compatible anymore. With getting hitched being such a crapshoot as it is, why not wait until you can give it the best go imaginable, and under the best of circumstances?

I still don't believe in "love at first sight", but I do think you can just know if someone is the one for you after a few dates or a few weeks. And I think the chances of that being the actual right person go up dramatically if you're in your thirties. By that point, you (should) have a very good understanding of yourself and your beliefs and wants and needs out of life and relationships. You've had, at least, a decade to live your life independent of your parents and police yourself and decide what you want. There's a reason that people who got hitched in their thirties tend to last longer than those who married in their twenties. They understand the work involved in marriage and they're willing to do it, whereas in our twenties we're much more prone to throw our hands up, say we don't need this ish and walk away. Of course, this varies depending on the people involved but there's something to not being tied down too young. If the family gays were getting married even a couple years ago, there's no way they would make it because they were both still living for their twenties, with all that entails. What a difference a few years make, eh?