I think I may need some Happy Pills

I have a friend (No, really…. this is about my friend), who keeps getting really worried about the end of the world (BTW – Thank you Mayans. First you gave us the ‘zero’ and then for predicting we are going to be ‘zero’ in 2012!!). As soon as she calms down and stops worrying…one of her (Oh so nice) co-workers brings up the subject again….and the worrying begins anew.

I have figuratively ‘talked her down from the ledge’ (as she has done many times for me), by telling her she’s stupid. (This is also her method with me…we are obviously not the ‘hug and kissy’ type). This method of the Cher ‘slap’ with a ‘Snap Out of It!’ chaser….works well for us. Extra points for those who know what movie I am referring to….

Now, I just told you all of that to tell you this…..

For the past couple of months I have been grinding my teeth, not sleeping through the night, feeling scared and over all anxious about everything!!. I don’t feel depressed, but I can’t seem to shake the anxiety. It started when I was told my baby (Mia, my Pomeranian) is dying. I keep thinking something bad is going to happen all the time. WTF!

If I had an opponent in front of me I would take the best martial arts stand I could remember from the many Kung Fu Theater movies I watched as a kid and shout ‘You want to fight? Well, fight me damn you!!’ However, there is no real opponent in front of me, unless I took in the mirror.

Here are some examples of some of the thoughts that go through my brain:

1. Whenever I hear a noise outside – someone is stealing something or trying to get in.
2. During these rains – I am just waiting for my roof to leak
3. While visiting my mom for Christmas – I worry that my house is going to be invested by mice when I get back home.
4. At work – I feel like I am not doing enough and I am not smart enough
5. In public – exposed
6. In my house – Like I am missing life
7. My niece - Everytime she goes to the bathroom I wonder if she's doing drugs

You see what I mean….Coo Koo!

I guess I can sit here and whine to you a little more, but what I have decided to do is ‘Snap Out of It!!’ Here is how:

For every negative thought I have, I come up with 2 or 3 positive ones.

1. Noises outside – If someone wants something I have…go ahead and take it, I have insurance. You want to break in to my house? You have a Mexican/American woman who may or may not know Kung Fu and 2 Pomeranians to deal with…so there!!
2. Leaky Roof: Bring it on…like I said, I have insurance!
3. Mice (non-existent as they may be) – If you are going to live in my house, you are going to pay rent..you little bastards!
4. Work: I am smart enough…I have figured stuff out that I didn’t know I COULD figure out.
5. In Public: I just make sure I look good while feeling exposed. Hold my head up high and think of Chaka Khans ‘Ain’t Nobody’ as my theme song.
6. In my house: Learn to relax and enjoy my time at home with my babies, as well as make an effort to go out and enjoy my time outside my home. As well as watch some PORN….(just kidding, just making sure you are paying attention!!)
7. My niece:  I know she's not on drugs (because everytime I sneak in on her she is only on the toilette listening to her ipod. (I know, I know...I've only done it a couple of times))

Has this worked? Yes, it has. I guess when people say it takes work to be happy, they are not wrong (darn hippies!). The blessings God gives me are my happy pills. I just have to wake up and realize they are there for me to use.

So, bring it on you stupid Mayan’s (If you are SO smart how come your civilization was lost? HA!). You too LIFE….I AM NOT AFRAID OF YOU!

…….I wonder where I can find some ninja stars and some nun chucks??

Christmas in New York

Yeah...I wouldn't know anything about that, because I spend most of my holiday's with my parents in a city I call the 'Armpit of Hell' in the summer, and the 'Frozen toes of Satan' in the winter. 


Yesterday, my mom and I went to the biggest mall in town (at which 99% of the cities population was also at). I love spending time with my mom, but I really, REALLY dislike going shopping with her....and here's why. She had me looking through racks and racks of sweaters to find the all elusive 'holy grail' of perfect sweaters that she needed for a chrismtas gift. When we finally found it (25 minutes later), she realized that she already had a present for that person and she didn't need it after all. UGH!!

All this while calling me (and by 'calling' - I mean yelling at me across the store in front of many, many people) 'TESORO'!  Which means 'treasure' in English (her nickname for me). You might think this is sweet (and it IS sweet...darn it!), but not when strangers turn around and look at me like I am her 'Special Needs' child and she is burdened to care for me even though I am an adult woman. UGH!

Today, she asked me to take her to the most Mexican supermarket this side of the Colorado river. My niece had asked her to please make her Menudo for Christmas and that's why we were there. Before we were even in the door, we were met by a chola wearing black eyeshadow and white lipstick (I am truely not making this up!). I wanted to stare but everyone knows you never look a 'chola' in the eye....unless you are ready to throw down!

So, we walked in the door and this is what went down:

Mom: "Go get me some chives, garlic, and some cilantro while I go stand in line for the tripe."

Me: "Si Mami" (I have to call her 'Mami'...otherwise Mami gets mad)

Mom walks back to the butcher area .....

My niece and I grab all the stuff and walk back to find her. As we approach the butcher counter we hear..."Client Zero! Client Zero...you are next!' (No one claims to be 'zero'). 'One'...calling number 'One'. What we don't see is my mom. Where can she be?

Then we see her coming back from the pre-packaged meat counter with a number in her hand and fire in her eyes. It turns out she is the elusive client 'Zero' that didn't respond.

Me: 'Mom if you're 'zero' they just called your number and you didn't respond."

Mom: " That's because that idiot told me the Menudo was over there...and it isn't."

She proceeds to the butcher counter (with ticket in hand) and tells them she is client 'zero' and that some idiot told her the menudo was over in the pre-packaged meat counter. She then schooled them on customer service and then asked for 7 pounds of tripe. The little Mexican guy behind the butcher counter just looked at her with blinking eyes (like a thing just born) and did as she asked.

Moral of the story: I may not be able to spend my Holiday's in New York shopping on 5th avenue, but at least I get to spend it with my sweet Mexican 'Mami' learning how to stand up for my rights (while imparting customer service lessons) to unsuspecting butcher boys.

Life cannot be sweeter.

Merry Christmas! Feliz Navidad!

Raised by a Mexican Mother

A few weeks ago a co-worker and I got onto the subject of mothers. She shared a little of her story with hers and even though my story was not the same, I could see threads of what it’s like to be raised by a Mexican mother.

My mother was a great mother. She had me when she was 21 years old (When I was 21 I barely took care of myself and was living with 3 room mates who had a basket of condoms by the door for when ‘friends’ came by). Needless to say…I quickly moved out.

My Mexican Mom’s Parenting Skills:

Saturday mornings: We would watch cartoons for a little while and then we had to do our house cleaning chores. Nothing was allowed under the bed. We were responsible dusting, vacuuming, bathrooms and our rooms. I believe this is now called ‘Child Labor’ and I am pretty sure they have laws against it …

Outcome: I have a clean house and nothing stored under my bed.

Laundry: My mom ALWAYS yelled at us when it came time to do laundry because she had to sort it and do it all herself. Of course, when we tried to do it we would get yelled at for not doing it ‘like her’ and thus not doing it right!! Either way…there was yelling involved.

Outcome: I replace my white socks twice a year to make sure they are white (I am still not as good as my mom when it comes to laundry)

School Clothes Shopping: With my brother this was easy; he was extra slim, with me… not so much. Plus size clothes for little girls were not available in the 70’s. Thus my shopping trip would end up with my mom yelling at me for being so fat and me crying. Making my brother shake his ‘extra slim’ head and say ‘Too Chubby’. This would eventually end up with me wearing ‘old lady’ looking polyester wear to elementary school. (This is another reason why the 70’s sucked!!).

Outcome: I have been complimented for my great fashion sense. A childhood with horrible clothes makes you want to dress nicer as an adult.

McDonald’s: Only on birthdays!

Outcome: I still don’t like going to McDonald’s all that much….

School Lunches: Bean burritos. No ‘Wonder’ bread bologna sandwiches with Oreo cookies for us…Thanks mom!

Outcome: Lean Cuisines

Punishments: My dad only physically punished us when my mom told him he had to. Otherwise she would doll out the punishment by making us sit kneeling next to the wall with our hands up. She admitted to us later that she would sometimes forget about us and find us asleep hugging the wall. This is now called ‘child abuse & neglect’….just in case you are wondering.

Outcome: I had the skills to raise my niece when the time came….and I too was creative with my ‘punishments’…nuff said.

As an adult, I admire my mom very much. I have never seen her start something without finishing it and doing it to the best of her abilities. She can start sweeping a spotless floor and somehow make it look cleaner than when she started. She was a brave woman who came to a country without knowing the language and worked had to give us a better life. She hid the fact that we were really poor from us by providing for all our needs the best she could. Even though our clothes were from the second hand store, they were clean and well taken care of (see Laundry above). For Christmas, my parents barely had enough money for presents, let alone for a Christmas tree…so she started the tradition of the ‘Christmas lamp’. We would decorate our floor lamp and place our presents under it.

Even though I am not an ‘official’ parent, I can see now that parents aren’t perfect, they just do the best they can. My mom did her best with the circumstances life handed her. (Did some of her ‘parenting’ lead me to seek counseling later in life…Yes, but that is another story).

Bottom line: I had the best mom (Not Mrs. Cleaver…better!) and as it turns out (after speaking to one of my friends) Korean moms aren’t that much different. Who knew!

Eat, Poop, Sleep - My Life As A Worm

I really hate to admit this but after my niece went off to school I was hoping that the ‘drunken sex orgies’ (which I was sure were going to happen) would keep me busy and give me plenty of blog stories.

‘Drunken’ – It’s less to do with wild drinking and more to do with me being tired because I keep forgetting to take my vitamins. (Although FYI - a friend recommended Fetzer’s Gewurztraminer wine...which is delicious!).

‘Sex orgies’....well, can you really call reading multiple romance novels (at once) a ‘sex orgy’? Unfortunately ...NO!

The funny part is that before my niece went off to school I spent so much time planning all the ‘good’ stuff I was going to do when I was finally on my own again. I was going to pack my Louis Vuitton and fly to Paris for the weekends were I would meet Parisian men who smoked too much and smelled of sin. Then I was going to learn how to tango....IN ARGENTINA ....and slink my way to a bad reputation.

What is actually happening is: I work, I come home, I play with my dogs, I talk to my dogs, I walk my dogs (I know it’s just sad), watch tv, read and then start my day all over again. On weekends, I try to relax from all the excitement during the week by cleaning my house, doing laundry and working from home.....REALLY! ...yes, I know!

I am 2 cats and 1 crucifix away from becoming my neighborhoods ‘Crazy Cat Lady’ (I already have 2 Pomeranians....they are practically cats).

So, what to do? I am not quite sure, but I a have to think of something before I am in the next episode of ‘Hoarders – Buried Alive’, because I finally snapped.

Tune in and see what happens next!

The Saturday I became a stalker at Target

One of my favorite things to do on a Saturday morning (besides not having to wake up at 5 am), is heading out to Target to stock up on supplies (Yeah, I know...I lead a boring life if this is a highlight!). I usually walk into the store, peruse the specials on the wall and then grab a coffee (One time a little old man saw me prepare my coffee then proceeded to tell me I had put too much creamer in it. I turned around and told him he had not put ENOUGH creamer in his (all this done with a sweet smile on my face, of course)...I may not be ‘old’, but I can do ‘crotchety’).

This past Saturday I did a Target run, but things didn’t go as planned.

First, I grabbed a Venti drip at Starbucks (instead of waiting to buy my coffee at Target), so by the time I got to the store, I had to go pee. So, I walked straight to the restroom....and that’s when I saw him. He was perfect. The weird part about my story is that I can’t describe him as a whole because I don’t remember what he looked like. I just remember parts of him – his butt was perfect, his arms were tan and masculine. I liked the way his big watch fit on his wrist, his khakis were nice and ironed and his t-shirt skimmed his muscles just right. I guess you could call it more of an animalistic awareness that drew my eyes to him, but bottom line...I thought he was SO sexy. He was older, but very well made and he looked like he smelled of vanilla and exotic spices (He might have been part vampire...what else could explain my instant ‘like’ of this man).

However, my need to pee outweighed my need to follow him and tell him I loved him.

So, I finished my business, grabbed a cart and started my usual round. As I was heading toward the toilette paper isle (obviously this story has a ‘bathroom’ theme to it) I saw him coming towards me. As he passed I made a u-turn and started following him (CAN YOU BELIEVE IT...WHAT THE HECK WAS I THINKING!). He didn’t seem to notice me at first, but I was like a red SUV following a (insert the name of a sleek foreign car here)....eventually he turned around and looked at me. I smiled and pretended to be engrossed in figuring out what wine to select. (Thank God I was not in the cookie isle...I would have looked a lot less sophisticated). I didn’t have the courage to keep in pursuit since I had been ‘made’, but it took all my will power not to continue following him. (Since I didn’t have much will power left after using it all up that morning in NOT buying the raspberry pound cake to go with my Venti drip at Starbucks, I relied on old fashion Catholic shame)

How old am I? (Don’t answer that!). I was obviously having a brain hemorrhage which was the only explanation I could come up with for a grown and educated woman like myself to follow a man around a store just because he's ‘pretty’!! REALLY!!

I think I might need a case worker.

You Look Good Ey!

Have you ever wondered why Canadians and Cholos seem to say ‘Ey’ all the time? No......me neither (Who the heck has time to wonder about Canadians and Cholos??)

So, my story starts out one Tuesday afternoon as I was strolled the hallowed halls of my local Vons. (I had just spent the last 50 minutes commuting home after a long and meeting filled day at work and to my consternation, I realized I had to stop by the store to pick up some dinner supplies).

Let me back up a bit....

That morning I had taken a fashion forward leap and had worn leopard patterned flats with a black pencil skirt and black short sleeved blouse with a leopard patterned scarf (Grrrr!). According to Joan Rivers – a couple of animal print accents are tasteful and does not make you Jersylicious!

Let’s continue...

So, as I was walking up and down isles I heard a couple of old school cholos wandering the isles:

Cholo #1 : ‘Ey, I found the tortillas, there over here.”

Cholo #2: ‘Orale...I found the beer.”

I chuckled as I heard them communicate with each other (...Orale! Ey!....all I needed to hear was ‘Homes!’ to make the experience complete). Anyway, as I was walking down the “Mexican” food isle , I see both friends walking towards me from the other end. As they passed by, one of them looks at me and says:

Cholo #?: “You look good Ey!”

Me: “Thank you.” I said and added a smile.

Now, you might think that such a compliment wouldn’t really mean much to me, but considering that they looked like they were in a hurry, to actually take the time to notice how CUTE I was (I am taking his ‘You look good’ to mean ‘Cute’) took effort...and as such, I appreciated it.

Thinking back,  instead of ‘Thank you’ I should have said “Orale homes!”

Moral of the Story:

A compliment is a compliment, regardless of the source. If someone takes the time to give it, you should have the grace to appreciate it.

Or

A polite Cholo will always compliment you on your animal prints.

Fashion advice from the 'why' generation

The other day while I was out at lunch reaching for a lid for my drink…a young woman said ‘excuse me’ as she reached for a lid for her own drink. She then turned to me and said “I really like your fashion style." I turned to her and said ‘Thank you” oozing charm but like it was NOT uncommon for me to get those types of compliments from hip looking teenagers. (Inside I was dancing like Rocky at the top of the steps).

Teenagers Rule!

So, this encounter lead me to do something stupid. Ask my teenage niece for fashion advice….this is how it went.

Me: “How do these shoes look .”(modeling some flat pointy zebra patterned shoes for her)

Her: “They look weird.”

Me: “What do you mean ‘weird’?  Weird good or weird bad?(Yes…there is a difference!) Boy George…'weird good' (the boy could WEAR that make-up). Lady Gaga…weird bad (very bad!)"

Her: “Who's Boy George? 

Me: "Nevermind, how do they look?"

Her: "Weird bad…..like a big game hunter is going to come along and you are going to lose a foot.”

......needless to say I didn’t buy the shoes.

Teenagers suck!

A shower caddy goes to college

Three years ago on one of our jaunts to Target, I came across a shower caddy (You know the ones college students use). It wasn’t in the right isle and it was marked down to $1.50. I took it and put it in my cart. A little later my niece comes by (with a bag of hot Cheetos, her umpteenth tube of lip balm and a sweet smile). She put her loot in the cart and asked what the shower caddy was for. (She thought it was for her cleaning supplies because one of her duties is cleaning the restroom…No, she is not Cinderella!).

I told her it was for when she went to college. She reminded me that she was just a going to be a sophomore in High School. I said..”I know, but one day this caddy is going to college with you.” She just looked at me and rolled her eyes…….(teenagers and their stupid ‘eye rolls‘ suck!)

Any-who…..fast forward to last Monday, August 16, 2010 and the shower caddy (full of shower stuff) was one of the first items unloaded from the back of our truck to be placed in my nieces college dorm room. Like her, it was left behind in a place that it didn’t belong. It was marked down because it’s owners didn’t know it’s worth. Like her, it had made it to college because someone believed in it.

I miss that stupid shower caddy very much. I hope it does well in college.

Operation: Empty Nest....Commencing!

Six years ago I picked up a kid from the streets that had no social skills, no hygiene skills, no ‘legal’ skills what-so-ever! She was good at begging money off strangers, stealing car radios, bikes, smoking marijuana and drinking. When I first picked her up I seriously considered putting her in foster care....... or in a kennel.

Fast forward six years and what immersed was a girl who’s funny, smart and kind. She was an honor student, won a Scholar Letter and several Athletic Letters in high school and now she is off to college. For a little ‘heathen teenager’, she is responsible (to some degree – let’s not get crazy here!). I changed my ‘single woman’ status to ‘single aunt’ status and in return she transformed my heart and now I have to let her go.......WTH!!

She has been accepted at Cal State Northridge as a Mechanical Engineer Major (some co-worker’s children have been accepted into better learning institutions, but if you’ve read the first paragraph of this story- then you know that CSUN is our ‘Harvard, Yale and MIT’ all rolled into one). This coming week I am supposed to move her into her dorm, make the sign of the cross over her head and leave her there...........I DON’T THINK I CAN DO IT!!

Here are some of my strategies to keep her with me:

1. I have offered to teach her how to drive (She still does not know how because she has no job and no money for gas or insurance....who do you think I am Donald Trump?)

She said No

2. I told her that she can go to City College and live at home while she goes to school, then she can transfer to a 4 year college. Meanwhile she gets home cooked meals and I can kiss and hug her anytime I want.

She said No

3. I’ve threatened to write her out of my will. (At this point I can only leave her 2 Pomeranians and my Netflix account)

She said No

4. I have listed out my ailments and tried to make her feel guilty that I am going to be all alone. (Neither my periodic rheumatism nor my Iron deficiency seemed to convince her).

She said No

5. I threatened to move to Northridge with her if she went to CSUN.

She said No!

Darn it...I can’t break her! It’s like she’s been trained by the British SAS, the CIA and MI-5. She finally told me to stop making her feel guilty for getting into college. (Ah! So she is feeling guilty huh?...my plan seems to be working).

I have tried all my ‘Mexican Mother’ moves on her and she is determined to go to college.....I obviously went wrong somewhere in raising her, if all she wants to do is go to college instead of living with me until she’s 30 - like ‘good’ Mexican daughters do.

So I guess the only thing left for me to do is drive her to college, set her up in her dorm room, and pray that my lectures haunt her when someone is handing her a beer at a keg party.

...maybe I should add 'tracking' to her cell phone.

Dear Chica Fab....

I have received several advice request from some of my readers, so I decided to share my wisdome with all my fans (yeah…all 3 of you!)

Dear Chica Fab
My daughter is going away to college and I am not sure what I am going to do with myself when she leaves. I can feel the ‘Empty Nest Syndrom’ coming on and she hasn’t even left yet. My question is, can I make her call me everyday (several times a day) while she is away at school and how can I MAKE her do that?

Empty Nester


Dear Empty Nester
I feel your pain because I am in the same boat. However, as a parent you must allow them to make their own decisions. For example, I told my niece that she needs to call me everyday when she goes away to college. When she asked if it was ‘mandatory’, my answer was YES. Not calling would suggest she no longer needs her phone (with unlimited texting) and I would suspend her line. So you see dear reader…..I left it up to her to make the decision. Good luck!


Dear Chica Fab
I went on a double date to the drive in movies with this guy I work with . He seemed very nice and as th evening progressed he was a total gentleman. When he brought out a joint…he offered some to me first (how sweet is that!). I said ‘No Thank You’, but only because I didn’t want him to now I didn’t know how to smoke. Fast forward a few days later when I asked him to go to prom with me and he said ‘No Thank You”. He said he liked me but I was too young. 4 months later he married the general accounting lady who was 5 years older than him and 50 lbs heavier than me. I don’t really like him, but I still feel hurt by his denial to attend prom with me. What can I do to make myself feel better?

Hurt and Betrayed

Dear Hurt and Betrayed
I suggest you plan your life so that when he comes into the collection agency you work for (while you go to college), with his three crying kids, you can be the one to accept the $10 check he wrote against his $10,000 debt. Good Luck!


Dear Chica Fab
My best friend is going out with a really nice guy and she wants me to double date with one of his friends, but when we did, he totally ignored me and didn’t even bother to remember my name at the end of the night. What did I do wrong?

Confused!

Dear Confused,
You did nothing wrong. If someone does not like you for who you are, then move on girl. However, I suggest you plan your life so that when he walks into the health department you work for, it’s YOU he has to ask where the STD clinic is being held that day. He may not remember you (since he didn’t even bother on the date), but believe me….you will feel less confused.


Note: The above advice was taken from personal experience…sad, but true.

Well readers, if you have any burning questions you want my advice on, I am more than happy to draw from the 'Shakespeareon Comedy' that is my life to give you my wisdom (not that I am old or anything!)

Oh No!…Not THIS Monday Lady!!

One of my biggest pet peeves (besides people who wear their pajamas to the store or people who say ‘LIBARY’ instead of ‘LIBRARY’….don’t look at me like that….you know you don‘t like it either!), is poor customer service. Good customer service is one of the pillars for a great business. In these times of fiscal insecurity, if you couple low prices with great customer service …you could probably sell a knock-off Prada to a Kardashian.

Which leads me to my current story about my almost ‘take down’ moment at our local Fresh and Easy supermarket. Today as I took my basket and started in the fresh produce isle and worked my way to the 50% off section I came across and employee that was marking down some items. I was polite and tried not to get in her way, but I made the mistake of actually wanting to shop.

Let me set the scene for you. As I was looking at a very nice wrapped sandwich for $1.50 with an expiration date of 7/19/10 …..the following ensued.

Me: “Excuse me. what’s the date today?’

Her: “I’m trying to mark some items down and I need to get this done. If you insist on getting in the way I am going to have to close this section off.“

Me: Getting slightly annoyed, but everyone has a right to have a bad day. “Sure, I just want to get these sun dried tomatoes and I am out of your way.”

Her: “I am going to be marking those down even more, if you let me get my work done.”

Me: “Do you mind checking these and marking them down so I can get out of your way?”

Her: Exasperated at me…”No, I haven’t gotten to those yet and if you don’t move I am going to close this section off.”

Me: Not feeling so nice anymore…but trying to keep a pure heart. “You need to calm down and stop stressing out. “..said as I walked away.

Her: “I am not stressing out.”

Me: “Yes, you are and you need to calm down…” (Walking away before I ‘mark her down’…and possibly get arrested. I can’t get arrested without my best friend….that is on her bucket list, not mine)

So, I finish my shopping and walked to the cash registers…where I see her in the middle of an employee huddle. When I walked by I hear her whisper to her employees “I wanted to slap that lady”…..OH NO YOU DIDN‘T!! Not today…..not THIS Monday Lady!!

I usually don’t like confrontations and I am very bad at telling people what they need to hear. Don’t get me wrong, I am brilliant when it comes to telling people off ½ hr later when I have thought of really good stuff I should have said, but when I am in the ‘moment’ I am so mad I start to tear up…..yeah, I know!!

But not today! Today I turned around and looked straight at her and asked her (in front of her staff…can you believe she was a supervisor? WTF!!) “Did you just say you wanted to slap me?“. I must have looked pissed because she changed her voice immediately to ‘super friendly’ and said “No, not you. I was talking about another lady who wanted to slap me.“ (Well get in line ‘other’ lady because I was here first!).

I don’t know what I would have done if she had said “Yes, I am talking about you!“, because I am more of a scholar…and not a fighter, but I did what Fonzi (from Happy Days) would have done (I took my comb out, ran it through my greased up pompadour, stuck it back in my leather jacket and snapped my fingers…..all this in my own head… of course). I turned around without letting her even finish her sentence and paid for my purchases and left.

Now, it wouldn’t have taken much for her to have been friendly and helpful and now she is going to have all kinds of bad karma for her actions. I may have some bad karma coming my way for not being a bit more humble and meek….but today…THIS Monday….I am okay with that.

I may not be Mexican enough!

The other day as my BFF and I were discussing life’s many intriguing issues (you know…asthma treatments, perfume, anti-aging lotion and my love life), she mentioned very casually (so casually in fact that I almost didn’t catch it) that I may not be Mexican enough (she actually called me ‘White Washed’)


WHAT? ME? NOT MEXICAN ENOUGH?

I, who knows the beginning versus of the Mexican National Anthem! I, who has actually read several books in Spanish! I, who buys a 2 pound bag of pinto beans from the beanery across from work once a month! That is preposterous!!

Can it be that she is saying all of this because I like Neil Diamond, have read every one of Jane Austen’s novels, and can’t eat spicy food to save my life?

The next day as we were emailing each other back and forth (I mean ‘working diligently because we are very busy and important!!) This is what we discussed:

Me: ‘”I still cannot believe you called me ‘white washed!!!”

Her: “I was being nice!!!!”

Me: “WHAT!!! Please ‘splain’ ……now I am interested to know what the Fudge you mean friend!!”

Her: “Yes, you are WHITE WASHED!!! Don’t fight it!!!!! You are! Okay, tell me 1 Mexican thing you do??”

Me: “I make ‘Frijoles de la Olla’ and eat them with tortillas (low fat, no lard tortillas…but tortilla non the less) HA! You see I am not White Washed!!”

Her: “That doesn’t count because it’s a soup……I want a REAL Mexican thing you do.”

Me: “Umm…. I am raising my niece the old fashioned Mexican way. I use ‘Fabuloso’ when I clean my bathroom. I sometimes make hot chocolate with ‘La Abuelita’. Does that count?”

Her: “LOL !!! you think you’re Mexican by using ‘Fabuloso’!!!!! LOL !!!! Me, I have 3 out of 6 radio stations set to Mexican stations. I always have salsa (fresh). I have a Virgin Mary and Jesus icons in my home. I watch Mexican novelas. I speak Spanish a lot!!!! I go to Santa Cruz market….regularly !!”

Pickled Pigs Feet!! ……She’s right about me! (and needless to say more Mexican than I thought).

However, regardless of this new found self awareness (that was plunged upon me) one thing remains the same and that is that I am very proud of my Mexican heritage. Our food, our history, our propensity for family life and our capacity to overcome sorrow with faith and live our daily challenges with a constant stream of music in our hearts (mariachi music I believe!).

I guess I am a bit white washed, but all you have to do is scratch the surface (just a bit) to see the beautiful brown of my people!

These are a few of my favorite things…

I think it is an inherent human trait to get attached to certain things in life that bring you a sense of comfort when things are not always ‘Sunny’ out in the big bad world. Here are some of mine.

‘The Sound of Music’ - I LUF THIS MOVIE! How can you not like the story of an almost nun who falls in love with a young dashing and widowed ex-military captain. The first time I saw It I was about 13 years old and, of course, I had an immediate crush on the oldest son Friedrich (who in the late 70’s went on to play Peter Parker in the TV Show Spiderman). Later as a young woman of 20, I loved the romance and the adventure, back then it was Maria and Captain Von Trapp!  Now, as a grown woman, every time I see it I think of ways of charming Captain Von Trapp away from Maria (that sluty HO!…Get thee to the nunnery!) and making him fall madly in love with me. Yes baby! You can captain my ship anytime you want!! (I think I just made ’The Sound Of Music’ sound like a porn!)

Pens (and office supplies) - Whenever I get depressed about life or work or love….the first place I like to go to is Staples or Office Max. I love going down the isles and looking and picking out office supplies, especially pens. (Don’t judge me…you don’t know my life!) My love for pens is more of a ‘fetish’ and I am not sure why I like them so much. Freud would probably say the phallic symbolism of ‘pens’ means that I really want a (that which rhymes with ’enis’) in my hands instead. Well, when I get nervous I chew and bite the tips off my pens ……what do you say about THAT Freud?…..No, never mind I don‘t want to know!!

Starbucks - Nuff said!

600 Thread Count Sheets - Life is not worth living without the knowledge that at the end of a long and stressful day I get to slip between my 600 thread count sheets and feel the silky material smooth my day away. There are higher thread count sheets, but I can't afford them (and still be able to have multiple sets).  However, I don't want to sound too snobbish but anything less than 300 thread count is just uncivilized!  Unless you want to exfoliate your entire body...then I recommend 250 tc.

New Underwear - ‘Semper Ubi Sub Ubi’ (Always where under where). The first ‘dirty’ phrase my Latin teacher taught us. (3 years of Latin and all I got was this phrase and the ability to read the stained glass windows in Catholic Churches….Thanks High School Registration Staff!!!). I love the feel of brand new, freshly laundered pretty underwear and if it doesn’t go UP my ass…ALL the better. I have tried all kinds of knickers and in my research I have found that I am not a thong wearing type of girl (some things should not be made over certain sizes). At the insistence of one of my close friends I purchased a very cute pair and tried wearing them for a day. Since it was a busy day for me, I had forgotten that I had them on until I realized how nervous and anxious I had been the whole day. It wasn‘t so much my busy schedule as the thong up my rear. I threw them away as soon as I got home and surprisingly enough….began to relax.

Book Markers - I am an avid reader. I usually have 2 or 3 books started at once. So, I NEED a multitude of book markers to assist me with my ‘tracking‘. Most of my markers have some sort of inspirational sayings by Shakespeare, Gandhi, Maya Angelou etc… However, one of my favorites is one that my niece gave me that says: ‘Life is a BITCH, but if it was easy it would be a HO!”…..Too true!

So you see…not too scandalous (not unless you want to count the Captain Von Trapp fantasies), a little odd maybe, but when it comes down to it, if I have ever given you a pen, a move, a coffee cup or a book marker or invited you to sleep in my bed…you know I really, really like you.

I think I may be 'stuck-up'...but I am okay with that

Whenever my mom comes to visit she makes me feel guilty because I shop at Vons instead of Food For Less. She says I am just wasting my money when I could get the same food for much less. (Ah…hence the name!)

However, here is my story for NOT going to Food For Less….and it has to do with baby daddy’s, Mexican kids with mullets, lack of family planning, people who think that wearing pajamas and slippers in public is appropriate and mentally challenged workers. I not only get depressed but sometimes REALLY mad!

Here’s my story:

Before I purchased my condo I used to live in paradise. It was a tiny little condo in a very good neighborhood (almost Oprah’s neighbor….I am sure she would have come over to borrow a cup of sugar if I had stayed a little longer). It had a bird aviary, a swimming pool and a beautiful garden with little paths and water falls. It was beautiful and peaceful and I never heard any body bump their music in the middle of the night or dare to have a junked out car. I drank my Starbucks coffee amongst the ‘poodle puffer’ crowd (people who owned dogs with a better hair cut and style than mine). All this ‘well to-do-ness’ was fabulous. I once made a joke to a friend (I had not seen for a while) exclaiming that I lived amongst my ‘people’ in this part of town and then he asked if I was a maid…whatever!!

I started grocery shopping at Vons because it was the nearest grocery store to me, and so when I moved into a new city, 45 minutes north of paradise, I continued to shop at the same store - again because of proximity and familiarity.

When I go to Food For Less it never fails that I see women with ‘waaay’ to many kids (why I get bothered by this…I am not sure), men with hairy armpits and wife beaters getting too close to me in the isles, little Mexican boys with mullet haircuts or rat tails (obviously the parents have seen too many Kung-Fu movies and are trying to make the kid into a Manchu warrior….this is only a theory, I don‘t have any proof that this is true). I try not to notice, but they are always there!! I know this makes me sound stuck-up, but sometimes their life choices are really depressing to see.

But wait, there is more..

In my particular Food For Less, I not only get the afore mentioned views, but add in smelly looking girls (and sometimes men) wearing what I can only assume are their ‘good’ pajamas and slippers in public. REALLY! How lazy do you have to be to not (at the very least) slap on some sweat pants! WTF!! REALLY PEOPLE!!!

You see what I mean…..!

Then there is this really big girl/woman who works there. For some reason I just want to hug her and feed her. When she sweeps the floor around the store, she could give a rip if she runs anybody over or not. (That is actually one of the pluses about this store…too funny!). Once, I ran into her a couple of times durng my shopping spree and both times I had to scoot over because she was coming and NOT….and I mean NOT going to stop just because I was in her way. Well, the good side of this is that at least she has a job.

So, you see, I don’t mind paying a little extra because going grocery shopping should not leave me depressed or completely mad at humanity. If people would only come to be for advice before they screwed up their lives and did what I told them to do…..they (and I) would be so much happier.

Okay, I guess I do feel a little bad about being stuck-up….but only a little.

Business of 'Is-ness'

Have you ever had the chance to speak to someone who is the type of person that REALLY pays attention to what you are saying? You could be talking to them about the most obscure and boring topic (i.e. Britney Spears ability to look like a ‘crack whore’ even though she has millions of dollars and a whole team of people who can make her look good). Their eyes don’t wander around the room or glass over. I have heard of these people, but in my experience, they are rare because I have only encountered one such creature in the wild.


…and, of course, I fell in love with him in an instant. He was the flute player and I was the snake in the basket (or was it the other way around?). He was irresistible.

Now, fast forward 20 something years later as I sit on my new throne (a.k.a new toilette) and I am reading ‘How to make every man want you’ by Marie Forleo. I know what you are thinking (Loser!!!), but let me explain. This book talks about the qualities that make you ‘irresistible’ to anyone (No, I am not gay mom!). One of the qualities is ‘being in the moment’, listening and being aware of your surroundings. Who doesn’t want to be ‘irresistible’? I am thinkin’ I will not only get a man, but as a bonus - make my project team members follow me like the proverbial ‘Pipe Piper’. (Ah..me so smart…me Wiley Coyote!). (Shout out to Janice for the use of the 'Wiley Coyote' line).

In this book the author talks about being in the NOW. Being present and in the moment in order to channel your energy and be ‘irresistible’. “You become one with the cosmic intelligence and timeless magnificence of all that is.” ‘The Business of being Is-ness’. (Are you still with me?...try to pay attention!).

I (as you may have already guessed) am the total opposite of this type of person. Most people usually bore me and I try not to make eye contact because that just encourages more words out of their mouths. SHUT UP! If I am on the phone, I usually tell the caller I must go because I need to use the restroom (actually I do this in person too..hmm).

However, this past week I tried being in the moment. Here is my my first foray into ‘Is-ness’ .

As I walked back to my car from the grocery store, instead of thinking what I had to do when I got home, I made a conscience effort to look around my environment. I took in the view, noises and smells, to see if I could ‘connect’ with my fellow human being and say ‘hello’.

Result – The ‘cosmic intelligence’ only sent me a really smelly old man who stank of unwashed parts and armpit sweat. I would have given my first born not to be in the ‘NOW’ at that particular moment. WTF!!

But then things got interesting. I didn’t realize how much I live ‘outside the moment’. I am HARDLY ever IN ‘the moment’. I always seem to be in the past (re-thinking what I should have done) or in the future (thinking of ways I can screw things up if I am not careful).

This past week I had to keep bringing myself back to the moment and when I did I was able to see some beautiful cloud formations, a bunny rabbit scurrying into the bushes, see a handsome man’s smile, sense a self awareness (without self deprecation). Wow! This really works! Don’t get me wrong, I am not about to burn incense or tattoo the ‘ohm’ symbol on my ass, but I think I will continue my journey into my ‘business of is-ness’ and see what else I have missed. As far as being ‘irresistible’….well, I’ll let that take care of itself.

My Dad's White Brief Underwear

I come from a family of alcoholics (by both blood and marriage), drug smugglers, and diabetics…and that’s just my father's side.

My healthy farm stock genes are both my blessing and my curse. I am tall and large boned (yes…you can call it ‘fat’ if you must) for a woman. I owe it all to my father. Thanks Dad!

Here are some of my favorite Dad stories:

Story #1
Coming home from a weekend trip to Tijuana my dad turned on the Radio:
(Conversation originally in Spanish)

Dad: ‘I like this song.’ (as he is dancing and driving) ‘Mija, I like this song…what is it saying?’

Me: ‘Papi (What I call my dad in Spanish), I am not going to translate what it says.”

Dad: ‘Why not? I like it’

Me: ‘Because once I tell you what it says, you are not going to like it.’

Song in question: ‘Me So Horney’ by Two Live Crew

Story #2
All my dad’s side of the family suffer from what they call ‘rheumatism’. It’s basically an aching of the bones/muscles when we are tired, cold or stressed. As an adult I have learned to control the pain, but as a kid it was torture.
I would go to bed fine and in the middle of the night the pain would start. I would call out for my dad to come and massage my arms and legs. Not once did he complain because I woke him up (and he had to get up at 4 am to go to work the next morning). He would come in half asleep and start massaging my legs and then my arms. He wouldn’t stop massaging until I told him I was fine again. Sometimes he would fall asleep sitting next to my bed, at which time I had to shake him awake for him to continue because I was still in pain. My poor sweet dad, he laughed when I told him (as an adult) that as soon as I saw his white brief underwear walk through my door…I knew everything was going to be okay.

Happy Father's Day!

p.s. - He still does not know the lyrics to 'Me So Horney' becasue I never translated it for him....AS IF!!

Restore to Factory Settings

Two weeks ago I installed a security program for my laptop which left it completly useless.  Did I do something wrong?  Did the application do something wrong?  Who knows....the bottom line was I had to fix my computer because it was broken.  I couldn't log in.  I was scared.  I cried out to God "Why me!.  What did I do wrong?" ('Drama Queen' you say?...I totally agree)

The Geek Squad wanted to charge me $300 (which is about half of the price of my computer 2 years ago)...I think not.  In my complete and utter ignorance I neglected to create a recovery disk when I first purchased my laptop.

After 2 weeks of feeling fearful and bad because my laptop did not work...I finally realized I was feeling 'fearful' over a stupid laptop!!  This is what lead me to the following contemplation (a.k.a...ramblings)

For the most part I consider myself a pretty BRAVE woman .....but when did I start being so freaking afraid of stupid stuff!!??

Sample of brave things I have done:

• When I was 18 years old I sold everything I had and moved to Guatemala! 
• I stopped being a practicing Catholic to become a Non-denominational Christian! (even though it took me 4 years to do it....)
• I dared to go into a profession that scares me spitless. 
• I say yes to work projects I have no idea how I am going to start or complete (and do a great job on them)
• I picked up an unruly teenager off the street and had the nerve to think I could raise her (and I did...she is soon off to college). 
• I cut my hair short when I have a very round face. (bravest move of them all!)

Things that scare me:

• Selecting the wrong cell phone over the internet...when it's time to update my phone.
• Switching to another internet provider.
• Telling Direct TV to shove it, when they want to charge me $107 for a dvr, when new users get it for free.
• Fixing my broken laptop.
• Buying a Kindle.
• Getting rid of my old plates (because they are all chipped - see teenager above)
• Unsubscribing to Netflix (I might want to see a Bollywood movie found nowhere else)
• Accidently putting in the wrong gas type in my car when I go pump gas (I fear this every single time I go and get gas...)
• Change of any type

Do you see what I mean?  WTF!!  Really!!  This has to stop!

So today, when I got home from work I took my stupid non-working laptop and finally decided to give up on getting my pictures and with the click of a few buttons restored it to it's factory settings.  IT WORKED!!  I am now able to use my laptop again!  Did I lose all those pictures...yes, but I can just  take more (and this time learn my lesson to back them up to cd)....Yes!  Lesson learned. 

Tomorrow, I think I am going to drop Direct TV and maybe even my internet provider for better options.....I am passing out 'lollypops' and 'whoopasses' and I am all out of lollypops!!  Where are my leather pants?

Bottome line:  Don't let life's stupid stuff get to you and make you fearful or doubtful.  A good lesson I learned from my BFF (not too long ago) was that life can change in a blink of an eye whether you want it to or not.  So take life as it comes and enjoy it, don't waste time being afraid.  So wear your best perfume to work instead of saving it for a special occasion.   Restore yourself back to your factory settings and be fearless with your everyday life...like you used to be when you were a kid .

Thank God for all the blessings he gives me....especially for my stupid non-working laptop.

Never say 'Never'...especially if it as to do with Starbucks

This Saturday I had to drag my ‘GRANDE’ ass out of bed at the ungodly hour of 4 am to drive to Cal State Northridge. My niece had to go take a math assessment test to be able to skip over the normal ‘freshman’ class and into more advanced mathematics (It’s great that she wants to be an Engineer because she is only 1 class above an English ESL (English as a Second Language) class…poor thing, she really sucks at English). Since I had to drop her off at 8 am…I had no other choice but to go find a place to wait for 2 hours until her math test was over…..and this is where my story begins.


I have always wondered why students insist on dragging their ‘study’ paraphernalia (which sometimes consist of stupid hats, blankies, cell phones, laptops, notebooks and iPods’) to their nearest Starbucks to study….REALLY? I’ve had to step over book bags, purses, wires, and shimmy through the unwashed masses just to get my Venti drip. How the heck do they get any studying done in such a busy, noisy place? And NO, I don’t appreciate the ‘looks’ I get when I walk in and I am talking on my cell phone….if you want quiet…GO TO THE LIBRARY YOU STUPID PRETENTIOUS AND POMPOUS ARSES (notice how I used the British version of ASSES…I am quite sophisticated) Everyone knows that to get any real studying done…you need peace and quiet….YES..YOU..DO!!

Anyway, back to my story…guess where I ended up at 8 am on Saturday morning? YEP…Starbucks - where I sat and had my cup of coffee and studied my ‘Project Management for Dummies’ book…. (And it hurts to admit this, but it is actually a very great place to study….damn it!!). I did feel a little pompous and rightly so because I had just spent almost $10 for a cup of coffee, bran muffin and a side of ‘pretention’.

However, besides all the great studying I did…I had a great time ‘people watching’. There was the ‘teacher who REALLY likes to be a teacher and grades papers at Starbucks on a Saturday morning’ (you know she has to be single) lady who besides using her notebook, yellow highlighter, red pen, green pen and blue pen , also advices customers on their menu choices.

Then there was the couple who showed up in a car, which I am sure was in the movie ‘Fast & Furious Tokyo Drift’ (Yes, I’ve seen the movie..It’s actually very good). The car seems to have been a HONDA at some point, but it was so pimped out that it resembled a cartoon jet mobile in lime green…no joke. The Asian princess that emerged from said carriage had on tight (and I mean tight) jeans, white (almost see through) slinky t-shirt with her hair in a pony-messy-tail, with large black diamond cut hoop earrings and ‘too high’ heeled sandals. She oozed ‘I am better than you-ness’ all over that Starbucks. On her way back out to her flying carpet she tripped and almost fell. Am I a bad person for kind-a wanting to see that happen?

However, the best one was the chunky Neil Diamond (and not in a good way) look alike who walked in with a metal briefcase….WTF! Who carries around a metal briefcase (who does not want to explode innocent bystanders?) It could have been the fact that I got up at 4 am or that I was having my 4th cup of coffee and it wasn’t even 10 am, but I got paranoid. I knew that I was going to be REALLY pissed off if this guy exploded me. There are things I still want to do with my life before I leave this world (having sex with 1 or more members of the Mexican Rock group MANA is just one of them). I kept my eyes on this man while he was in line, through his java choice and then to his seat…where he sat and enjoyed his coffee as he opened up his briefcase and began working…..I guess exploding a little Starbucks in Northridge at 9 am with few people in it does not make a big enough statement. Is it weird for being disappointed that I am not important enough to explode?

Cute Firemen and Emergency Rooms

There is a story by Irma Bombeck were she describes how even though her family lives in a nice house and they all have nice clothes the times they have ended up at the emergency room they all looked like refugees seeking a new homeland. How they huddled together with ‘deer in headlights’ look in their eyes, torn t-shirts, dirty sneakers and old, torn and baggy sweatpants for pajamas.

Well….this weekend I could relate to that. Here’s my story.

My niece and I both woke up late on Saturday morning. I heard her come into my room and say ‘Good Morning’ and get Mia (my Pomeranian) from my room, before heading downstairs to let both dogs out to pee. Fifteen minutes later she calls out telling me to come downstairs because her stomach really hurts. (I am still sleepy and I want to take my 600 thread count sheets for another spin around the block before I get up... but I get up and go see what she’s talking about). The first thing I think about is that she’s overreacting (this girl loves Band-Aids!!!) and if she has made me get up just so I could see her try to win the Academy Award for best performing actress in a DRAMA….I was going to MURDER, DEATH KILL HER!! (I wonder where she gets the drama from??)

As I come down the last step I see that she is on the floor, rolled up into a little ball and she’s puking on the carpet. WTF!!! I go over to her and she’s covered in sweat. WTF!!! I try to get her up, but she’s crying and barfing and telling me that it hurts and she can’t get up….WTF!!! I have to call 911!!

So, I grab a towel and make sure she’s barfing on that before I call 911 and tell them what is going on…then I run upstairs to put on some pants, a bra, a t-shirt and try to control my “Mr. Carter” fro with a headband. (Extra points for those of you who understand the Mr. Carter reference) When I come downstairs the firemen are already getting out of their truck….Wow! That was fast!! I check on my niece she’s still scrunched up in pain..they come in…things are a blur…the Paramedics show up…more blur…they are asking her questions…they are asking me questions…all I can think about is “Do I have a bra on?’ (Now I know why all those people on cops shows look so stupid when being interviewed….I will not judge them again). They are asking me if she’s pregnant….she better not be or they will need to call the cops after I beat the shit out of her!

At some point I start crying and a very nice fireman tells me to take deep breaths and to relax that everything is going to be okay. (At this point I think it would have been appropriate for him to have taken me into his handsome arms and consoled me……although thinking back, I was lucky he didn’t stop the crying and shaking my slapping me….good call fireman!!).

I drive to the emergency room, give them her name and they call me back within a few minutes. It turns out we have chosen the busiest Saturday morning to have had an emergency because the ER is packed! I sit down next to her gurney and try to console her because she is still in pain and crying. As her pain calms a bit she turns to me with tears in her eyes and asks me “Did you go upstairs to go put on makeup before you called 911?” (That would have been a good idea if I would have thought of it….those firemen were CUTE!!).

4 ½ hours later…they let us go when they confirmed she is NOT pregnant. Well, that’s good to know, but WTF is the diagnosis? I am thinking appendix burst, cancerous tumors’ in the intestines, an Alien monster wanting to get out….and they come back with “She’s not pregnant!!!” They went to how many years of medical school to tell me in 4 ½ hours the same thing a stick you pee on could tell me in 15 minutes!!! Oh, but they did give her a Tylenol….that was nice.

Now, don’t get me wrong, the firemen, the paramedics, the ER receptionist, the nurses and even the doctor where very nice….but when your kid is lying in a gurney crying in pain….very nice and very good are simply not enough. The final diagnosis was a potential ovarian cyst, but he could not rule out appendicitis…to monitor her and take her back if the pain returned. Why did this happen so suddenly? He didn’t know.

When all was said and done, I looked down at myself and realized my zipper had been down the whole time, my ballerina shoes looked like I had danced Swan Lake on gravel, the t-shirt I pulled on had bleach stains, the jacket I grabbed was 3 sizes too big and my hair…not as ‘controlled’ as I had thought. My niece walked out with an old ratty t-shirt with cut off arms, bleached stained boxers she sleeps in and socks (no pants and no shoes…nice!!). She was cold, she was stinky, she had no pants, and no shoes….she said she had officially become a HOBO. As we walked out of the ER we both tried not to make eye contact with anyone in the packed waiting room.

On Sunday we went to church to thank God it was not something worse. To thank God that there are people who help others for a living. To Thank God she is not sexually active and thus not pregnant (because I would have to KILL her and I don’t think they allow inmates at the women’s prisons to have ‘Blogs’)

Where’s that fireman….I think I need a hug.

The Wonderful World of Online Dating.....

Okay...I know I have not written in a while, but I have been waiting for some inspiration.  Well, here it is.

I have been trying (for the 2nd time) the wonderful world of online dating.  It is a way to say 'Hi' to someone while sitting at your kitchen table with your ratty pijamas, uncombed hair and yesterday mascara smeared on your cheek (because I was too lazy to take it off after watching an NCIS marathon).  I sit here going through a catalogue of men...perfect!  It's like going to the 'swap meet' (where people go to show you there 'stuff' instead of going to Garage Sales (where you have to search for people's 'stuff').  Either way works and both require the looking through 'STUFF'.  (Thank God I am taking vitamines and eating protein first...this is exhausting).

So, why am I doing this.  First..it seems to be good for my weight loss because I get so nervous just thinking about meeting someone that I can't eat! (Bonus!).  Second...My niece is going off to college soon and I think it's about time I start making my life a little more exciting and possibly find someone to love and who will love me back.....and if perfect - build a life together.  (Or get on the Maury Povich show to point him out as my 'Baby Daddy'...).

So, this past week I have been texting and talking to a really nice man.  He's 42, ex-Navy, has a job, 6'4" tall, has a very nice truck, and speaks English.  On paper..he seems perfect.  On mobile text..he seems perfect.  On the phone...he seems perfect.  He would text me in the morning to say "Buenos Dias", he would tell me that he was thinking about me and asked if I was thinking about him. He told me I was pretty.  He said he was trying to 'woo' me (You have to like a man who uses the word 'woo'...).  We met on Saturday and walked around the city.  He was nice and polite and awkward (as any smitten man should be).  I was dressed in nice jeans and a modest blouse... he ask me why I hadn't worn something that showed 'What my momma gave me' (he was joking..I hope), so I told him I was......she had given me 'Morals'. 

I could not eat for a week before meeting him because I was stressing so much, but on the date....I was smooth (I think??).  I was articulate, cute and funny (that's how it appeared to me any way).  We had a long day, but at the end of it all I didn't feel 'anything'.  I didn't hear angels sing, baby hearts were not coming out of my eye's or see cupid sling an arrow at me.....I was dissapointed in ME for not feeling anything.  I was hoping for 'something'...something that would tell me this was the right path...but nothing!  I just wanted to hug him, feed him and keep him hydrated.  I knew he liked me...I could feel it. Even a woman as dumb as I am about dating could feel his attraction.  (Why didn't God make me rich instead of beautiful.....).  There is nothing wrong with him.  He's a nice man.  I'm just obviously a cold hearted 'that which rhymes with WITCH'.

We live 2 hours away from each other, so giving it a second chance could be possible, but I don't want to play with his feelings only because I want to verify mine.  I am taking my best friends advice and letting things take their course.  Let's see what happens next....I did say I wanted more excitement in my life....well, here it is. 

This is what I have learned:
1.  Don't get 'cute-sy' with a guy until after you have met him in person and you feel a connection. (stupid rookie mistake)
2.  Don't try and be something you are not, just be yourself (it's enough...)
3.  Don't pick out a wedding dress and wonder how he would get along with your family until AFTER you have met him.  (stupid rookie mistake)
4.  Don't be dissapointed if things don't work out.......life goes the way it goes for a reason.

5.  Do be polite and treat people with the same respect you would like to be treated.
6.  Do give up the search for the 'perfect match', but never the search for 'The' person that gives songs more meaning and flowers a brighter color.  I think this is important.


I don't know how much longer I will be 'Online dating', but I know I have much...MUCH more to learn about it.  I am keeping an open mind.  This adventure may or may not work....but I am sure things will happen as they should.

BFF Email - This is Why we are BFF's

Me: “You wanna hear something funny?….I had bean soup (I made frijoles de la olla yesterday), I brought it for lunch and now my stomach is bloating up like Violet from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.


My BFF: “That's not funny that's gross!!!!!! Sharing with me how your stomach is having a circus!!!!! You probably didn't let them soak overnight before you cooked them that's why....”

Me: “No I didn’t and I usually do. But I was in a hurry to have them for dinner. PLEAZZ!! You’ve shared grosser stories with me about your stomach!!”

My BFF: “Yeah, but that's me you were ready for it!!! because you knowI have Gas issues!!!! You, I didn't expect it you caught me off guard !!! 'chew don know my life!'!!”

Me: “Pues, next time I will give you a little warning before I tell you about my gastro-intestinal issues. Lol!!”

My BFF: “You can start off like, ‘I cooked frijoles del oya last night and I didn't let them soak... I had a lot’.. then you wait for my smart ass remark (which would mean I know your issue) Then break it to me!!”

THIS IS EXACTLY WHY SHE'S MY BFF....GOTTA LOVE HER!

Strong Independent Woman....And Men

One of my friends wanted me to include a blog entry about being a strong independent woman. Should a smart independent woman put up with a man who gets threatened by her ‘independence’?


Before I give you my opinion, here is a little caveat.  I am a Mexican/American woman, who even though is very strong and independent and not willing to settle for just any man, (not even when my mom asked me if I was gay when I was still not married by the age of 34.  Nothing wrong with being gay.....unfortunatly I'm not).  I still believe that the woman is the one that holds a family together, the one that should nurture her family and at the very least make sure they don't go out into the world with wrinkled clothes.  I know this sounds a little archaic, but I that's what I believe.

As to the topic at hand, here is my opinion (because you know I have one!)

If you are a single woman you have to be strong or you will not last very long in the real world. (I recommend every woman go and live on her own before she gets married. It builds character.) Would I prefer to have someone who would throw out the trash and make sure my car was washed and filled with gas…OF COURSE! Am I willing to put up with a jerk to make that happen……NO!

Please read below for more of my thoughts on this subject.

1. As a single independent woman all I can say is, if a man does not love and respect who you are (which includes ALL that you are), then he is not worth the MAC make-up you buy and slap on to look pretty for him.

2. If you have to ‘baby’ a man because his feelings get hurt when you are not at his ‘beck and call’, then slap some diapers on him and send him back to his mama’.  You didn't give birth to him...why should you raise him?

3. A man who is comfortable with who he is will not be threatened by your independence. (By the gun you said you would shoot him with if he ever cheated on you…yes.)

Note: Take into consideration that I am still single and not currently dating….Hmmm, could it be the ‘gun’ thing?

Taco Bell-from Hell!

My niece and I have a little tradition where we go out to lunch almost every Sunday after church.  Sometimes we go 'fancy', sometimes we go 'new' and sometimes we just go to Taco Bell.

We haven't been to Taco Bell in a very long time, but today she wanted the cheesy, creamy fiesta potatoes and a Crunchy Wrap Supreme.  I usually stick with the traditional Tostada (with hot sauce, of course).

Anywho~

As we sit down to eat, a couple of older ladies sat at the table next to us and one of them starts talking about her upcoming medical procedure in detail....REALLY!  This conversation couldn't wait until later? (Guess not!)

Then as I was getting up to get an iced tea refill, a shaggy haired, skinny pant wearing teenager (little heathen!) burps long and loud (I am so grossed out by burping people).  I am sure EVERYONE heard him.  The suprising part is that this 'hormone pile' actually has a girlfriend....REALLY!  Rude, shaggy haired, skinny pants below his ass, and he STILL has a girlfriend...(teenage girls are STUPID!!!)

And then....

We parked in a 'choice' parking space right next to the Taco Bells entranced doors and with no other cars around - I thought it was a sign that we had made the right choice for lunch.  That is until we tried to leave and the line for the 'drive thru' blocked our retreat.  REALLY!  So I backed up slowly giving the last car the clue that I wanted out and if he could move forward that would be delightful.....we'll, the idiot driver was in the drive-thru line and he was actually reading the newspaper and didn't see that he had plenty of room to move up and let me out......UGH!!!  Lord, are you testing me?

All I have to say is that all those people in and out of that 'Twilight Zone' of a Taco Bell were lucky I had just gotten out of church and didn't want to commit a 'murder-death-kill' on the Lords day!!

Mexican 'Sheek'

My niece admired some daffodils the other day.

I brought some home for her.

They were on sale at Trader Joe's.

We couldn't find the small cobalt blue vase I usually put daffodils in.

Had to put them in an alternative holder.....

YES!  We are THIS Mexican!

A Food Addicts Confessions

“Come, eat!”
“No, thank you, I am not hungry.”
“Only dogs eat when they are hungry, people eat to celebrate!”
(Dialogue from a Bollywood Movie)

I am a food addict. I discovered I was a food addict three years ago when I was unable to eat what I wanted, when I wanted. The separation from food was excruciating. I didn’t know who I was without it and I couldn’t think or better yet, I couldn’t stop thinking of food. Finding out you are a food addict is like looking in the mirror one day and realizing you are not the nationality you thought you were or that you actually have brown eyes instead of blue. What!  I am Mexican and I am FAT!  When did that happen?

When I was alone and eating, I didn’t see the fat gathering around me. I just knew that for a moment in time I was happy. For a moment, there weren’t any bills to pay, any tests to study for, any family problems to figure out or any sadness that could hurt me (because everyone knows you take a ‘time-out’ from life when you are eating). It was when I was with others that I was made very aware of my fat, because I saw it reflected in their looks. One day when my friend (who is very pretty and thin) and I were walking towards a picnic her family was having, her father looked up and saw us coming from the parking lot. When we arrived to where he was, he looked at us both and said “There is no comparison.” You can’t imagine how much those words hurt me. You would think that at that moment I would reach my hands to the heavens and proclaim that I was no longer going to be fat just to spite him….but instead I had a couple of plates of food and ran, like I always did, to my ‘safe place’ to my ‘time-out from life’, to bliss in a taco.

I guess I could sit here and blame my parents for my addiction (and believe me, I would be justified), but now that I am an adult, I understand that they didn’t have an easy life either. Besides, I am no longer that little girl who loved to sneak food into her room late at night (after hearing her parents fighting), or that teenager whose heart broke when her friends were all asked out to dance and she was left behind (every single time) and I am no longer that young twenty year old trying to make everyone like her. Yet, the little girl, the teenager and the young woman looking for her life are always with me. I carry them inside and protect them the best I can as I forge on ahead and live my life as a food addict. (Why couldn’t I get a good addiction like sex or shopping….whatever!!).

So, what’s the difference between a food addict and a drug addict, smoker, or alcoholic? Well, I am not sure because (thank God) I only have one addiction. But the way I see it, drug addicts don’t need drugs to live, smokers don’t need smoke to live and alcoholics don’t need alcohol to live. If any of them quit ‘cold turkey’, they would be fine. If a food addict quits ‘cold turkey’, then we would be Anorexic….(not to mention we would probably eat the turkey..No matter if it was cold). Food addicts have to learn how to walk the middle road when it comes to food because we can’t avoid it. Have you seen how many food commercials there are? Or how many restaurant and fast food places you come across during a short drive……thousands…millions!!! (Okay I am exaggerating for special effects..especially here in my small rinky-dink town) Cigarette commercials are few and far between, alcohol commercials are a little more prevalent but When have you ever seen a commercial offering 2 crack pipes for $3 and you can ‘Super Size’ them for an extra 95 cents?

The bottom line is this, even though the Food Network channel is my porn and I am possibly less of a food addict and more of a ‘Turrets Eater’ and I will never be a size 5, I now know that I am more than my addiction. I am more than all the sadness in my childhood; I am more than dumb comments made by mean people. So I will continue to fight my food compulsions as I make peace with the fact that I have them. I will continue to try and follow the road to health and even though I might falter and fall, I know how to get up now. I know that I am meant to get up and live a healthy and happy life.

My High School BFF's - Totally Rad!!

I have never been a person who likes to have too many close friends (Wow! I sound like a bi-atch!). I guess I always thought that quality was more important that quantity. I work with really great people and I have even found a few kindred spirits among them (I’ve written about a couple already). As I have gotten older, I realize that I am getting more and more eccentric when it comes to selecting friends I spend time with. (Oh wait! I have to be rich to be considered ‘eccentric’ – Since I am not, that just makes me ‘bitchier’). However, with the invention of ‘Facebook’ and my final ‘submission’ to its powers, I have re-connected with my two best friends from High School. The good old days…..the late 80’s


Here’s the story of my two Musketeers!

One of my best friends from High School and I actually met in elementary school. She was ‘that’ girl, you know the one who got the attention of the cutest boys in class because she was a cutie and skinny and flirty and wore make-up in 6th grade…..yeah her! (You know the one who always got the ‘I Love You’ Valentine’s Day cards while I got the ‘You’re My Friend’ cards from boys…if I got any at all). I don’t actually remember how we became friends back then, but let’s just say that after a week on a school field trip to Catalina Island which resulted in a nasty ‘cat fight’ on our trip back….our friendship was over!! Fast forward to High School and somehow our friendship started up again. I wanted to be like her. I wanted to wear make-up (My Mexican parents would not allow that until I was 15) and skinny jeans (I didn’t care that I would look like an over-stuffed sausage). I wanted to have perfect skin and shiny straight hair. Besides being very pretty, she was smart. She somehow talked me into taking AP English with her one semester where our teacher made us memorize Old English poems (which I somehow remember to this day). The first time I got drunk, we were at ‘Poly Royal’ (An annual open house at Cal Poly) to visit a friend. I drank everything I was given and paid the price several hours later (I leave this story out when I tell my niece about my High School days….). She introduced me to my first ‘real’ date. His name was Michael Jackson (No, really!….He was tall, skinny and very white.......kind of like the ‘real’ one). We went to the drive-in, where I sat with him in his rabbit and he offered me ‘pot’……I didn’t inhale (I didn’t know how....honest!!) Bottom line, she was wonderful.

My other best friend in HS was blond, with beautiful colored eyes and a Jessica Rabbit sway to her hips when she walked. Even though she was just as cute as my other BFF, she was quieter and shy. She introduced me to ‘New Age’ music and ditching school the last semester of our Senior Year. (She was the only one of us who had a car.....it was pink – it was a miracle we never got caught). She had a thing for Mexican boys (don’t know why??), so she was always up for going with me to the Quinceañeras I was in. (Quinceañeras are big parties given when Mexican girls turn 15). She invited me to go to Disneyland for her 16th birthday (Where I made her ride‘It’s a Small World’over and over because it was a hot day and I felt sick). Her parents were totally awesome! When we got into a car accident (with said pink car) right before a party, her father came to pick us up, took us to the party and then dealt with her car. My parents would have beaten me first and then asked questions later………(Ah, I always wanted white parents). She moved away to Oklahoma after High School and I never saw her again. She too was a great friend.

I am not sure why we didn’t continue our friendship? I guess it could have been the self centeredness of youth and the belief that we have all the time in the world. It’s kind of weird to be communicating with them now that we are all grown women. In reality, they no longer know me and I don’t know them, which makes me a little sad. However, when I stop and think about it, we may have gone our separate ways in life, but no one can take the fact that we shared a time of our lives that we will always remember and we will always cherish. The secrets we share may not be those of mature women with families, but I think they are infinitely more special because they are the secrets of young girls with a whole world yet to conquer.

I look forward to getting to know them as women because I have lots (and lots) of more secrets to share! I am kind of bummed we don’t live close enough to each other so we could ‘pass’ each other ‘notes’ on the way to work...(wink! wink!)

This story is dedicated to two of the most 'Totally Tubular' girls ever!!

Do Mexican Parents Get Empty Nest Syndrome?

I don't think Mexican parents get 'Empty Nest Syndrome' (ENS), first because not ALL their children ever leave the home at the same time.  Second because by the time the 'baby' is ready to go, the older ones find their way home.  Third, if they ever finally get the house to themselves they are so exhausted they just don't have the energy to feel drepressed (not to mention that the older kids are probably on their way to drop off the grandchildren).

I, on the other hand, experienced my first touch of ENS this Saturday (and she was only gone four hours).  On Saturday I took my niece to go take her assessement/placement exams to begin her freshman year at college this fall.  I dropped her off at 8 am and didn't get to see her until Noon.  When she finally walked out of testing, I saw her amble over towards me and I wanted to hug and kiss her like she had just escaped Fidel's Communist Cuba.  She looked tired and hungry  (What did those monsters do to my baby??!!). 

When she first came to live with me, I had 'buyers remorse'.  I didn't know how to raise a kid and she was always talking and singing and asking questions.  My sactuary of quiet reflexion and solitude were invaded by horrible modern music (She calls my 80's music ' the oldies'....AS IF!). I had to re-learn Algebra and American History in order to help with homework (and I found that I might not be smarter than a 5th grader).  I wanted to give her back to her mother and run away from home so they wouldn't find me again.  She was not my responsibility!

Now, five years later, I don't know how anyone with half a heart would give up such a beautiful girl.  She has made me better as much as I have changed her life.  We both took to our journey kicking and screaming and now that we have found a common ground and an even serenity (Well, an 'even serenity' when she believes my death threats), she is being taken from me by that cruel, CRUEL monster we call a 'Higher Education'.(I hope you know I am totally joking about a 'Higher Education' being a monster.......it's just for dramatic effect people!).

She keeps telling me to go out and date.  To go out and find a nice man who can play basketball.  She thinks it's so easy to just go out and find a nice man who can play basketball......she's so nieve!

The best I can hope for is a good case of 'shopping' or 'sex' addiction to help me through my depression when she goes off to college.  Who knows....maybe I'll get them both and not even remember her name after a couple of weeks........keep your fingers crossed!  (Oh, and when I call you to come and bail me out of jail because I was cuaght in the dressing room of the men's department at Nordstrom.....Please, no questions)

COACH....Because Anything Less Would Be Uncivilized!

This Christmas my BFF gets me nothing less than the most beautiful Coach Wallet.  Please see below:

It's purple and pink (Purple, the color of 'royalty' and Pink, the color of 'cute baby girls') What can be more perfect? It's FAB-U_LUZ!

It's warm and soft to the touch. (I'm sure it was made from the skin of a sin-less, milk and honey fed, romantic comedy movie watching baby cow.) All my things fit in it beautifully (although it's a little embarrassing when I take it out to pay and I automatically rub it against my cheek and kiss it before I take out my credit card. Whatever! Those cashiers don't know my life!!)

She gave it to me because at some point I actually owned a wallet made out of black ‘pleather’ with a glittered butterfly on the front (What the hell was I thinking?) Needless to say, my best friend was actually embarrassed to be seen with me for fear that I would whip out my wallet and the ‘masses’ might think SHE owned one too.

She has great ‘classic’ taste and I trust her judgment, but I told her that if she didn’t want to see the ‘butterfly wallet’, then all she had to do was get me another one. Well….she did (WOW!  She sure did).

Did I happen to mention she works at a car dealership....Hmmm, what do you think she would do if my car was covered in butterflies?

Gotta Go!…I have a car to decorate!

Valentine's Day - A Saint or Pagan Goat Guts?

Since we are in the month of February, one of my friends wanted me to write a blog entry about Valentine’s Day and my thoughts about it. Well, what do you think a single woman who is not currently dating and who has never really been in love thinks about Valentine’s Day? (Do machine guns, hostages and high towers come to mind?)


The history of Valentine’s Day is a murky one (big surprise!). One legend contends that Valentine was a priest who served during the third century in Rome. When Emperor Claudius II decided that single men made better soldiers than those with wives and families, he outlawed marriage for young men — his crop of potential soldiers. Valentine, realizing the injustice of the decree, defied Claudius and continued to perform marriages for young lovers in secret. When Valentine's actions were discovered, Claudius ordered that he be put to death. (I am going with this story because the other one involves dead goats, and women being hit by the guts of said dead goats…..romantic much?)

Anyway, as I was thinking back to ‘all the boys I’ve loved before’ (some people quote Shakespeare…I like Willie Nelson) I can truly say none of them were really meant for me. My friends accuse me of being too picky and they could be right (FINE! They are right).

Even though I didn’t get a very good example of what a truly healthy married relationship looks like from my parents, I have been fortunate enough to have seen it in many of my friends.  Here are only a couple of examples.

My co-worker and commuting buddy (He’s like the smart brother I never got….and I have 2 brothers). His wife is battling breast cancer and she will be going through some treatments that will make her lose her hair. He has decided to shave his head along with hers. (Since he’s totally ‘Caucasian’ and sports a goatee, he is going to look less like a supportive husband and more like a ‘Skin Head’ white supremacist. When he picks me up to drive to work, I am going to look like the ‘Mexican’ he captured and is taking back to the ‘Brotherhood’). I asked him once if after so many years of marriage he still got butterflies when he saw his wife and if he still thought she was beautiful. (This was early in the morning so he just grumbled at me.) He waited until our drive home in the afternoon (and I didn’t even have to ask him again) to answer me with “She is like my right arm. I couldn’t picture my life without her.’ (I’d like to think that he still gets butterflies when he sees her…..although he might think it’s just stomach cramps from the Mexican food he ate).

Another great example is my best friend and her husband. They have been married 6 or 7 years (…they were married on March 15th – on The Ides of March when Julius Caesar was assassinated…how romantic!). They have been through some trials and tribulations’, but they both have become better people for it. I have seen the transformation in both of them. They have improved each other and not by trying to change who they are, but by living and fighting for their marriage. He has become such a great father and provider and she has become a great mother and wife. They are honest with each other, they are a team and they are not only parents or partners but very much still ‘boyfriend’ and ‘girlfriend’. How can you not love that!

Well, bottom line, I no longer believe in love stories such as Bella and Edward (from ‘Twilight’ for those of you living under a rock), Romeo and Juliette or that couple from Titanic, but I still very much believe in the magic of love. The magic that makes a husband shave his head for his wife, volunteer to serve as a leader on his sons Boy Scout troupe, take on weekend side jobs to make ends meet or defend his family from anyone that might harm them.

So, what do I think about Valentine’s Day? I think it’s a great day to honor LOVE in all its forms.  Even though I may end up buying my own flowers and chocolates this year, that’s okay because I know that the magic is real, I’ve seen it, and I will not settle for anything less.

Crazy Basketball Parents

Bellow you will find a conversation I’ve had with my niece as to why I don’t like to sit with other parents during her basketball games.


Her: ‘So, why is it that you’d rather sit alone like a ‘loner’ than sit with the other parents?’

Me: ‘Because when I’ve made the effort to sit among them - they are crazy, freaky and screamy.’

Her: ‘You mean, you don’t cheer for me?’

Me: ‘Well of course I do, but in a dignified manner while using my ‘inside gymnasium voice’.'

Her: ‘I ask again, you’d rather look like a ‘losery-loner’ than join in the cheering and sit with other parents?’

Me: ‘I’d rather cheer appropriately and ‘look’ like I will continue to clothe and feed you even if you lose the game.’

Her: ‘What do you mean?’

Me: ‘I once sat next to a mother who SCREAMED at her child that if she wanted a ride back home she’d better make her free throws. To me, that’s just wrong!’

Her: ‘I see what you mean.’

Me: ‘Then on another occasion I sat next to another mother who kept insulting the referee and I was sure we were both going to get booted. Me, just for being stupid enough to sit by her (and I would have WELCOMED it)!

Her: ‘Okay, okay, I see what you mean.’

Me: ‘But you know what?’

Her: ‘What?’

Me: ‘I couldn’t love you more or be prouder if I had given birth to you AND your basketball myself.’

Her: ‘Tia, that’s gross.’

Me: ‘You asked.’

Update on my 2010 Goals

Since the beginning of the year I have started working on several of my 2010 Goals.  Here's an Update:

Between Jan and March – Lose 10lbs
Okay...not so much yet, but keep the faith.  Maybe you should also say a couple of prayers and possibly light some candles for me.

Try something new every quarter:  Make Earrings and Try to finish my scarf
A picture is worth a thousand words (and let's be honest, who has time to read 1000 words). Here is a picture of some earrings I've made and of the scarf I am crocheting (don't laugh - it's not done yet!)

Read a Classic

I haven't decided which book I am going to read yet, but I still have to get through a bag full of romance novels (Don't judge me...you don't know my life) before I can focus on a classic.

Exercise twice a week for 4 weeks straight

Please read above about the bag full of romance novels...nuff said!

Make a new friend

Does re-discovering old friends on Facebook count?  I don't know...hmm

Write a short story and submit to a magazine

I've already written a short story, but I have to clean it up because I don't think Readers Digest accepts 'F' bombs in their stories.

Take a class at the local Community College

.....Umm, I have a whole year people!

Be a better listener

What? Who wrote this one?  Fine.....I'll try, but I am going to have to set some ground rules for those peope who just won't stop talking....I'm just saying.

Read my bible and journal once a week

Not yet....Sorry God! Please don't strick me down, some of my friends have bigger sins that you might want to take care of first.  I'll name 'Names'.

Do or say something nice to someone, once a day

Some days are good......some day's .....not so good, but no one has lost their life (and that should get me some bonus points)

How my Pomeranian was once a Canary

‘Early coal mines did not feature ventilation systems, so miners would routinely bring a caged canary into new coal seams. Canaries are especially sensitive to methane and carbon monoxide, which made them ideal for detecting any dangerous gas build-ups. As long as the canary in a coal mine kept singing, the miners knew their air supply was safe. A dead canary in a coal mine signaled an immediate evacuation.’



Mia (9 year old Pomeranian)  =  Canary

Me (Single 32 year old and mother to none)  =  Methane and Carbon Monoxide filled coal mine.

Before Mia came into my life, I was a single and carefree woman. I worked, went to school, enjoyed the theater and was rarely home after work. For dinner I was eating out with friends, re-heating leftovers (from restaurants when I was out with friends) or eating a nice bowl of cereal (Tony the Tiger thought I was GRRREAT!!!). I lived in a beautiful studio apartment in one of the most prestigious neighborhoods. Life was blissful!

However, a few months earlier, I made the mistake of telling my mom how much I enjoyed dog sitting my friends Pomeranian and how much I wanted one of my own. Long story short, my mom calls to tell me she got me a Pomeranian, to go pick her up. WTF! (For my non-cussing friends this means ‘What the FUDGE!). It turns out she had been abandoned by her owners and my mom rescued her. How could I say no?

So, I drove three hours to go pick up my new dog. My step-brother's daughter had already named her Princess Mia (from the Princess Diary movies). Great! Now I owned a dog I didn’t know what to do with and she was named after a nerdy princess. Whatever!!

What I didn’t know then (that I do now) is that my Mia was sent to me by God. She was like the canary being taken into the coal mine to see if it would survive. She came to live with me one week before I moved into my newly purchased condo (good timing God!). She not only survived, she taught me how to become a better person.

She taught me how to stop being self centered and self absorbed. I now had a responsibility to go home after work to feed and walk her. In return she would greet me with excitement and kisses. It took us a while to get used to each other, but she has made my life better. I know she was sent to me to prepare the way for a greater challenge to come. One year later, my 12 year old niece came to live with me full time and now I have two someones to go feed and walk after work.  (Surprisingly enough the Humane Society refuses to kennel teenagers are readily as they do Pomeranians...just and FYI)

I don’t know what I would do without my Mia, she is such a joy. I am beyond grateful for having her in my life. Did I mention she is a total Diva and considers me her staff?

Mia, (she sleeps in her own bed next to mine) as she takes over my bed every morning and watches me get ready for work.  Someone has to go to work to keep her in 'Good Girl Cookies'.