Mia: Shaken Not Stirred

The true life stories of a NYC female.

Thursday, August 31, 2006


I was riding the subway to school this morning when several Boriqua teenaged girls caught my attention. Two of the girls looked like ghettofab video vixens in their gauchos, way too low tops and espadrilles. Totally inappropriate for the Noah’s Ark weather we’ve been having. Their gold jewelry accented their gorgeous tan complexions. Every spiral curl was perfectly formed and in place despite the rainy and windy day. The fact that they took great pains to apply eye shadow and kohl eyeliner around their amber colored eyes showed. Their make up was flawless. They were beautiful and they knew it. They had the look of confidence and pride that went with knowing that as they stood in the middle of the subway car all eyes were on them.

The third girl sitting across from where they were standing hadn’t quite blossomed yet. Her skin was pale, her eyebrows needed to be done but she had nice features. Her pretty long hair was pulled back in a pony tail which made perfect sense considering the weather. In short she was a plain Jane with potential. It was obvious she was still at that self conscious stage of her teens, insecure about her appearance. I could tell what she was thinking just by her expressions and her body language. She stared at the girls in front of her. She seemed in awe of them as if that’s what she wanted to look like, that’s how she wanted to dress.

Then I saw her catch a glance of herself in the subway window. She was not happy with what she saw. She hung her head down almost ashamed to look at the other girls but she did and once again I could see her comparing herself to them. She avoided glancing at her reflection again. My heart ached for her. Once upon a time I was her. I wanted to hug her and tell her it was okay, her time to shine would come. I wanted to tell her that what she was looking at was the result of hours of fussing and primping. I wanted to tell her that true beauty came from within but that’s something she'll learn on her own. Most of all I wanted to stand her up before her reflection in the glass again and point out all that was beautiful about her. I wanted to tell her that once upon a time I too had been a caterpillar. I wanted to promise that soon she’d emerge from her cocoon a beautiful butterfly but I said nothing. Instead I watched her until my stop came up and here I sit the day almost over and I am unable to get that girl out of my head.

Get your own Flash MP3 Player

Labels: , ,

Click here to read entire post.

Posted by @ 1:17 AM
3 comment from: Blogger Ritardo, Blogger Emory, Blogger Jane,

Wednesday, August 30, 2006

It's hard work being a woman...

I was having a convo with a male friend about superficiality. He seems to feel that women as a rule are superficial creatures. The reason we touched on the subject was because he was telling me about a friend of his who is a 21 year old virgin. Wait, wait! Before you roll your eyes at me you’ve got to realize that here in NYC in the hip hop culture of b-boys and gangsta wannabe’s finding a male 21 year old virgin is akin to finding an unused bong in a room full of stoners. It is amazing…it is a miracle…right up there with 3 wise men hauling ass on camels to check out a baby allegedly born of immaculate conception in a manger. Crap like that doesn’t happen every day. Well at least no one admits to it every day.

See this is where superficiality issue comes. The guy wants a trophy girl, you know the type with a cover girl face and a playboy body. The problem is that those girls are not attracted to him. My friend seemed offended that the playboy model type chicks were not attracted to his friend. That's when he said females were superficial.

Mia: Are you serious? Are you insane? What do you mean they are superficial? It’s your friend that’s being superficial. There are girls out there that don’t care if he has more boobs than them yet he passes them over because they are not pretty enough, not tight enough. Come on man who’s the superficial one here?

His friend reminded me of a couple of male friends of mine as well. One is a 30 plus year old guy he is charasmatic, smart, witty, funny, good lord he is funny. He also happens to be a short dumbo eared little dude who is superficial as all hell. I’ve known him ever since I was a teenager so I can say this about him and know that what I’m saying is not an exaggeration. Because of his personality women are drawn to him like flies to a pile crap on a hot August day. The problem is that unless the woman looks like a porn star he doesn’t want to holla at her. The one time when a woman fit his criteria and returned his feelings she turned out to be a psycho. She scared him, hell she scared all of us. She was not just bite your nails scary. She was look over your shoulder take out a restraining order and hire yourself an armed bodyguard on steroids type of scary. You know the kind that comes at you with a knife waving it wildly in the air mascara and eye liner running down her face while a big snot bubble pops in and out of her left nostril as she yells, “ Why won’t you love meeeee?, why won't you love me? ” over and over again.

Friend: You can’t front women are superficial.

Mia: Some women are superficial. Heck it’s hard being a woman. You guys have it mad easy. You get up brush your teeth comb your hair and throw on a shirt and some jeans. Ironing the stuff is optional. As long as you bathe and your clothes don’t have any crusty stains your good to go. You approach a woman and if your game is tight bang! You cop her number.

It’s not that simple for a chick. Women have to pluck, wax, moisturize, exfoliate, spritz, and curl all with the hope of catching some guys eye. Women are expected to look like fresh and new 24 -07. That stuff is exhausting man. Not to mention control top panties, girdles, the heels, the bras that push up, and shape the lady lumps. Mind you all of this is done to attract male attention . It is exhausting being a woman!

Friend: See so they are superficial. Men aren’t like that.

Mia:What are you high? Put the crack pipe down son! Who do you think objectifies women into sexual objects in the first place? Are you telling me you prefer the slightly pudgy plain jane librarian over the playboy centerfold?

Friend: No! What about you?

Mia: Dude I’m not into women.

Friend: NO stupid. What about you. Are you superficial?

Mia: Honestly no. I have dated men that have been positively gorgeous and I've also dated guys with faces only their mamas could love. My thing is this, I am attracted to a man by his personality. His ability to make me laugh, to hold a stimulating conversation. You know stuff we have in common, everything else is just icing on the cake.

Friend:So you’re telling me you don’t hook yourself up to attract the guys?

Mia: Na man, personally I don’t give a fluff if guys find me banging or not. I don’t put my body on display to attract male attention. I dress for me, for my comfort.

Friend: But you do your hair and make up don’t you? That’s superficial stuff.

Mia: I do my hair for me because I have curly hair;and you know you don’t wanna ever leave your house looking like Tina Turner. The stuck my finger in an electrical socket look only works for her. That look on the general public tends to scare children and attract small woodland creatures looking for a home. Make up? Oh hell no. Make up to me is like liquor I enjoy it occasionally it’s not an everyday thing. Some females get up at the crack of dawn to throw on their war paint (makeup) before going out into the world just to attract male attention. Others just look like the Avon lady exploded in their face. They think more makeup is the key to beauty.

Friend: See what you’re saying? On some level the world is superficial.

Mia: Maybe, but you know what? The world would be a much better place if people would look beyond the superficial. Take time to know the person inside. Booya beeotch!

Labels: , ,

Click here to read entire post.

Posted by @ 2:30 AM
5 comment from: Blogger Charlotte, Blogger Cheeky, Blogger Judy Abbott, Blogger Mia, Blogger Jane,

Saturday, August 26, 2006

Future cat lady...

Ever since I was a little Mia my momma has told me that I am special; that I am unique there’s no one else in the world like me. I thought that was just her medication and her maternal pride talking. I mean really what is she going to say, “Mia you’re a dime a dozen, “ una to’ tenemos” (everyone has one) chick? Of course not! It’s her job as my beloved mommy to gas my head up and puff up my young tender and fragile ego beyond all comprehension so that one day I will have the necessary confidence in myself to pack up and leave the nest! It turns out that the people at Eharmony.com agree with my mother.

One of their commercials sparked a discussion of match making methods old and new between mom and me. We spoke about how the internet and match making websites seem to be giving the old fashioned match makers a run for their money. People today seem more comfortable making connections via the internet rather than going out and meeting people. I think that the habit is affecting this generations social skills but that’s a post for another day. Today’s post is on the possibility of me being a future cat lady,of always being the bridesmaid and never the bride. Not that I am looking to be the bride at the moment by the way. I’ve still got that list of stuff I gotta do before I settle down.

Armed with some free time I logged onto my laptop. Didn't you see my logo at the top? You thought I was joking about that? and a boat load of curiosity I headed over to Eharmony.com I wanted to check out how their scientific method worked. Their commercials raved about their success rate. Well all I can say is this… people I have seen my future and it ain’t pretty. You know that crazy lady that lives in your neighborhood the that talks to herself and smells like tuna fish and has like 100 cats living in her house? That’s me.

I filled out something called a Compatibility Profile. It's a questionnaire with about a bazillion and one questions. They ask you everything but the color undergarments you’re wearing at the time you’re filling out the questionnaire. I was rocking The Muppets own Fozzy Bear (woka woka!)undies just in your mind went there. The questionnaire is meant to gage your personality type etc and find a person on their site who matches your score and that’s how they hook you up. According to Eharmony.com a site that has a couple of million registered members by the way, there was not one freaking person on their site at that moment that was a match for me. They invited me to come back and fill out another long ass questionnaire at a future date, which I never did because my curiosity about their methods had been satisfied. Well until today that is when I had a bit of writer’s block and was looking for some inspiration.

Okay so it’s been like 10 months since my initial visit. Surely they had someone was a match for me now right? Don’t hold your breath in anticipation buddy I wouldn’t want you to pass out from lack of oxygen. There was no one,I repeat there was STILL no one. WTF?! I know I was incredulous too! Shocked and amazed even. Listen up people I am so unique that an online dating service has no one for me. Wow. I don’t know whether to be insulted or flattered. Stuff like this can send a lesser person straight to a therapist’s couch.

On the plus side they were nice enough to give me Mia's Compatibility Profile® Summary which in a nut shell details
“the most important characteristics revealed by your eHarmony Compatibility Profile that you should keep in mind as you search for your ideal mate”
So dear reader if you feel like checking out and know someone who is single who fits the bill have them meet me at least 10 years from now…we’ll do lunch. In the mean time I am too busy lovin’ life…I guess my mama was right I do march to the beat of a different drummer. Anyone care to dance?

Off topic this song’s for The Don…because JUST when I’d gotten it out of my head he put it back in…

Get your own Flash MP3 Player


Click here to read entire post.

Posted by @ 2:18 AM
12 comment from: Blogger Papillona ®, Blogger sexygoba, Blogger Eunee, Blogger Charlotte, Blogger christina/ohio, Blogger Ritardo, Blogger The Don ®, Blogger Mia, Blogger Charlotte, Blogger Judy Abbott, Blogger The Krispy Dixie, Blogger DannieS72,

Sunday, August 20, 2006

Women can be such masochists at times

It was late when the phone rang and it kind of startled me….

Mia: Hello…

Voice:: On:: Phone: Mia?!

Mia: (imitating Spanish accent) Jes?

VOP: My father WAHHHHHHHH SOB in the hospital! Mumble..mumble…emergency room…mumble…sob…mumble WAHHHHHHH!

The voice on the phone was hysterical. I could barely make out what she was saying between her sobbing and mumbling. One should never attempt to talk and cry at the same time it’s a no-no big time. I had no idea who she was.

Mia: Who is this?

VOP: It’s me G!

Mia: G slow down take a deep breath…what’s going on? Are you okay?

my friend’s dad had been taken to the hospital emergency room with chest pains. His wife thought he might be having a heart attack. Personally I’m not fond of her father. He makes me feel really uncomfortable. Father’s should never leer at their daughter’s friends that’s just damn wrong and pervy.

Despite her father being a creep I had to sympathize with G’s drama because after all dysfunctional creep or not he is her dad and she loves him. I managed to calm her down and get the story. Now I wish I hadn’t because I’m certainly condemned to purgatory for all the jokes that ran through my head. You’ll be happy to know that for once in my life I kept my smart assed comments to myself. I must be growing up.

It seems G’s dad had taken a Viagra before going to visit his girl friend earlier in the day. He had an erection that wouldn’t go down and it had been over 8 hours. The raging boner was now causing him pain and the stress of it all was making his blood pressure go up. The problem with a prolonged erection aside from the pain it causes is the fact that if left untreated it could cause penile tissue damage and permanent impotency. I imagine that’s what had the horn ball so stressed out.

Now maybe it’s just me but umm excuse me If it had been my husband I would’ve gone into my closet and put on a pair of steel tipped toe boots and kicked him as hard as I could in the aforementioned stiffy. Then I would’ve dragged his ass out onto the street and told him to call his lover to come and take his butt to the hospital because I wasn’t taking him anywhere nor was I going to call an ambulance. As a matter of fact he could go stand outside on the corner and use his erect member to hail a cab to take him to the hospital.

Now the part that just flipping amazed me was the fact that his wife and daughters were in the hospital at his bedside…. The mental image was just too much for me…his wife and their daughters boo hooing away as they kept the watch on “Boner 2006.” Good grief women can be such masochists at times. Hopefully one day his wife will wake the heck up.

This song is for them... “It’s a Thin Line Between Love and Hate” by The Delfonics….

Labels: ,

Click here to read entire post.

Posted by @ 2:00 PM
11 comment from: Blogger Shopaholic Q8eya, Blogger sexygoba, Blogger Mica, Blogger christina/ohio, Blogger Emory, Blogger Judy Abbott, Blogger Jane, Blogger The Krispy Dixie, Blogger Jane, Blogger Aisha, Blogger Mia,

Friday, August 18, 2006

My gaydar failed me...

Several friends and I were sitting in the cafeteria discussing our various body piercings when one of my friends mentioned to the group that I had my twins pierced. The one male classmate that was chilling with us a gay guy asked if he could see my twin piercings because he’d never seen one “live and in the flesh” before and I said, “Sure.” Wait, wait don’t be making that face! I’m not a candidate for “Girls Gone Wild” I figured it was okay with him because he was gay.

My friends formed a protective wall around so that I could show the gay kid my boobs without flashing the entire student body. I opened the top buttons of my blouse and pulled my twins out of their protective enclosure for a brief second and showed him the piercings. He stared and asked a couple of questions about them. As I started to cover them up he asked if he could see them again and I obliged him.

Ordinarily that would be the end of the story except that I just found out that my gaydar failed me. The kid is not gay…I repeat for those hard of hearing…the dude is not gay . My friend Wendie told me he has a girl friend back at home….
Mia:yeahhh right she’s probably his beard . He probably hasn’t come out to his family yet.

Wendie:No he's straight.

Mia:You know you could’ve told me that before I showed him my lovely lady lumps Wendie!

Wendie: I thought you knew!

Mia: Wendie wtf?! Heffa you’ve known me since I was 14 when the hell have you ever seen me flashing my tatas ? I thought he was gay! The dude is more feminine than most girls!

Wendie:I thought you knew he was straight.

Man let me tell you between you and me the other peeps who read this blog I never really liked Wendie…nope didn’t particularly care for her back in high school either. I thought she was just messing with my head. I mean hola! Walking like a duck, quacking like a duck, having feathers and bill like a duck… does not equal being bull frog well at least not in my mind.

I told the story to my mom…

Mom::Did he compliment you on your boobs?

Mia: Yeah he said I had beautiful breasts… hmmmm oh crap .

Mom:Uh huh...Was he staring at just the piercing or the entire surroundings?


Mom: And when exactly did he ask to see the piercings again?

Mom::When I was putting them away.

My mom started giggling like crazy.


Mom:Yes kiddo?

Mia: oh shit. it just hit me. Damn I’m slow.
He wasn’t gay was he? Was he ma? Ma? Was he gay? Oh please say you think he was gay. Ma?

Mom: Ummm I’m gonna have to say no sweetie.

Mia: oh shit. There I am arching my back… posing like a porn star so that his GAY ass could get a good look at the piercings and it turns out he is straight. Wow.

Mom: Yeah man you flashed a straight guy.

I put my head down into my hands…

Mia: Oh man he wasn’t gay. My gaydar was broken.

Mom:Sure was, but look at it this way you made him very happy guy for the day at least!

I don’t care what mom and Wendie say dude was gay! At least that’s what I’m going to keep telling myself so that I can sleep at night without shame.


Click here to read entire post.

Posted by @ 1:40 PM
7 comment from: Blogger christina/ohio, Blogger Louise, Blogger 15/09, Anonymous Nina, Blogger Aldara, Blogger Mia, Blogger DannieS72,

Monday, August 14, 2006

Mom has a knack for picking nightmare inducing toys

I over heard my parents talking today about toys that used to scare the hell out of us kids and the laugh they’d get out of it. Yeah my parents are twisted like that.
Teddy Ruxpin:Number one on the all time terror list for me has got to be “Teddy Ruxpin”. This damn bear had the starring role in some of my worst nightmares. He is the reason I slept with a light on for so many years. To this day whenever I think of him I get a little chill. For those of you fortunate enough NOT to have one of these teddy bears here’s the deal. Teddy Ruxpin used to talk. He had a casette player built into his back. The whole premise of it was that he would read stories to you and you’d follow along with the books that went along with the cassette.

The memory of my first encounter with Teddy Ruxpin has been forever burned in my mind. I had just turned 4 Teddy was a gift from my parents. They put him in front of me and turned him on…as soon as that teddy bear moved his mouth and spoke I freaked the heck out. I jumped up and tried to climb my way onto my mom. They had to put Teddy away. That night my mom got the genius idea of making a customized tape for teddy using her voice. She recorded herself telling me one of her “There once was a little princess named Mia stories” She thought that if I heard her voice and recognized the story coming out of Teddy Ruxpin’s mouth I’d be cool. Oh hell no.

The next day Teddy Ruxpin was placed in front of me and my pops turned him on. “ Hiya Mia! My name is Teddy Ruxpin. Would you like to hear a story about a little princess named Mia?!” Teddy cheerfuly said to me and then he blinked… I looked at Teddy with awe….he blinked again…I looked at my mom….Teddy sounded just like my mom! I ran crying and screaming from the room. When my parents found me I was hiding in a closet. I refused to come out until they put Teddy away. I didn’t even want him on my toy chest. My mom placed him inside of my closet. For the next few months I was afraid to open my closet. I’d run by the closet. Eventually my parents had to take the bear out of my room when they realized I’d fall asleep crying with one eye on the closet.

My Buddy I’m pretty sure this damn doll was the inspiration for Chucky…the demonic doll from all those “Child’s Play” horror flicks. My little bro Matthew was 2 years old when my folks got him the My Buddy Doll. My mom got it for him because the doll was the spitting image of Matthew. Let me tell you something Matt loved that doll. He took it every where with him. Matt and the doll even had matching baseball caps.

Matt was around 4 ½ and at the sitters when he accidently saw the first of the Chucky movies. Needless to say after seeing the movie Matt became terrified of his doll. When he came home from the sitter my mom put My Buddy away for a few weeks thinking Matt would get over it but it never happened. The minute he’d lay eyes on the doll he’d cover his face. Adding to his misery was the fact that Chucky became a big seller and you couldn’t go no where without seeing the doll …and it looked too much like My Buddy.

Harry and The Hendersons: was a movie released in 1987 here’s the plot “Returning from a hunting trip in the forest, the Henderson family's car hits an animal in the road. At first they fear it was a man, but when they examine the "body" they find it's a "bigfoot". They think it's dead so they decide to take it home (there could be some money in this..). As you guessed, "it" isn't dead. Far from being the ferocious monster they fear "Harry" to be, he's a friendly giant. In their attempts to keep Harry a secret, the Henderson's have to hide him from the authorities and a man, who has made it his goal in life, to catch a "bigfoot".

My uncles who were 11, 10, and 6 LOVED that movie. Especially my six year old uncle Gil. So much so my mom brought him the Harry doll. The doll live in relative peace alongside all of the other dolls and toys in our play room for several years . Eventually Gil outgrew Harry but he didn’t want to give him up so Harry took up residence in the top shelf of our walkin closet right next to my Rainbow Brite doll. Then one day in 1991 a few weeks before Christmas mom decided to clean out the closet and Harry was taken off of the shelf. Gil thought that my then 2 year old brother Stevie would love Harry so he called him over to give to show him the doll. Steven lost his marbles. The doll terrified him but my dad came up with an idea. That year in order to keep Steven from touching my dad’s 1965 Lionel Train set that running under our tree Harry was placed under the tree. Harry’s job was to keep Stevie away from the tree and it worked too! Once Christmas was over mom put Harry back in the closet and for the next few years Harry was the official tree watcher in our house. Maybe the wuss factor runs high in my family or my mother just has a knack for picking out nightmare inducing toys.


Click here to read entire post.

Posted by @ 3:37 AM
6 comment from: Anonymous Natalie, Blogger Mica, Blogger DannieS72, Blogger christina/ohio, Blogger Janet, Blogger Mia,

Saturday, August 12, 2006

Cleaning out my mental closet

Today I’ve decided to clean out the mental closet and share some of the stuff that’s in there with you guys….

How the hell did they do that and more importantly what inspires them?: Charlotte posted a neat clip of Bush “singing” U2's Sunday, Bloody, Sunday.

Wow 80’s videos were mega cheesy!: Don Veto’s link to 1,500 80’s Videos was like revisiting an old friend. I grew up on those videos. Damn they were cheesy! Music was hot though.

When is it a good time to whip out a bat and break a mofo’s knee caps? And what is the appropriate outfit for administering the beat down?: I was shanghaied by a friend in need yesterday to attend the first and only meeting of "Team Fire Crotch." The team is comprised of a small group of women who'd been infected with herpes by this one ass hole man. My friend was this guy for two years, she was in the dark about the other women. The other women knew about each other and my friend but were desperate enough to stick with the loser. As the ladies sat in a car commiserating on their relationship with the jerk he showed up. Instead of jumping out of the car and beating him beyond all recognition they hightailed it outta there. I couldn't believe it. Amazing.

I’m eating what?!!: Here’s a riddle for you what does Betty Crocker Frosting, Cool Whip and the 5 gallon paint of house paint sitting in my grandfathers garage have in common? They all contain a mineral called titanium dioxide. So each time you shove a slice of cake frosted with Betty Crocker’s white frosting or some cool whip on your pie it’s like licking my grandfather’s ceiling. I read an article about certain ingredients used in processed foods. For example the pink coloring in my Yoplait strawberry yogurt, the pinkish tint in Tropicana Grapefruit Juice, and the freaking Good and Plenty licorce candies I loved so much as a kid are a result of crushed female cochineal beetles and their eggs. Yeah you read correctly. Bugs and their eggs. Yum Yum. BTW they are also used in the production of lipstick and eye shadow. Here’s the link for this story What’s in my food

For What It’s Worth: Between the crimes being committed against Lebanon… terrorists plotting mass murder in the skies…and the general ill will towards my country from the world.I am so disappointed in the leaders of this world right now. I am so disappointed in those who claim to be followers of God. I am so disappointed with the intolerant,and the ignorant. Most of all I am angry! I am angry with all those spreading hate and hiding behind religion to do it. I am angry that the ones who were once persecuted and slaughtered have so little regard for life other than their own. I am angry that there so many innocent lives are being lost. I watch the news and the Buffalo Springfield song comes to mind…have a listen for yourself...

Labels: ,

Click here to read entire post.

Posted by @ 12:09 AM
2 comment from: Blogger 15/09, Blogger Tarek,

Thursday, August 10, 2006

The bitch slap heard 'round Pathmark

We were grocery shopping at Pathmark early yesterday. Mom had left me with both shopping carts parked in front of the dairy section while she grabbed some orange juice. I had head phones on listening to some tunes when I was approached by an older Caucasian woman. I guess I should tell you that when people meet me in person they have a tendency to think that I am any where from 15 – 17 years old. It was obvious to me from the way she approached me that this woman thought I was a child.

Woman: tapping me on the shoulder Excuse me…

Mia: removing one side of my headphones Yes?

Woman: Why is it that kids do that to themselves? pointing to one of my tattoos….angry tone in her voice Why do you mark up your body like that?

Mia: I was taken aback and chuckled Well for me it was just a matter of preference.

Woman: Why do you mark your body like that?!! That is disgusting!

I was going to give her a smart assed reply but decided against it due to her age. I put my headphones back on and let the woman continue her tirade. I couldn’t hear a thing she was saying. Unfortunately the lady’s tone of voice and decibel level had attracted my mothers and everyone else’s attention. By the way I’d like to point out that there was at least one woman obviously in her late 20’s who also had a tattoo and was much closer to this woman than I was yet she felt it okay to walk across the aisle to harass me. I saw my mother approaching us. It was about to get fugly.

Woman: What are you going to do when you become an adult and have to work? How are you going to cover that up?! I think you’re disgusting! DISGUSTING!!

The woman acted as if I had a tattoo of Satan biting the head off of the sweet baby Jesus. The tattoo she was looking at was of a periot angel wearing a pork pie hat.

Mom: approaching like a bat out of hell interrupting the woman’s tirade Excuse me. Excuse me. Hello what are you doing?

Woman: I was asking her why she put that on her body. That is so disgusting.

Mom: I heard what you were saying lady. How dare you talk to my child like that! How dare you approach her like that. What the hell is wrong with you lady? Have you taken your meds today?

Woman: I think she is disgusting! The way she marks up her body like that.

Mom: So the fact that you don’t approve gives you the right to come up to my daughter and berate her? Come on lady that is not right.

Woman: You’re her mother?!

Mom: Yes.

Woman: What kind of mother are you allowing her to mark herself up like that? What is she going to do when she becomes a woman? How is she going to hide those?! You’re a terrible mother you disgust me as well!

Mom: What?! Oh hell no. Lady watch yourself.

Woman: I repeat you’re a terrible mother and she is DISGUSTING!

And with that she stormed off quickly. Actually she kind of ran. I was really surprised that my mom hadn’t hit her especially the way she was yelling at my mom. My mom was glaring at her watching her disappear into the other side of the supermarket. She then addressed me by my full name, in public no less! Mami was mega heated. I was about to get a lecture.

Mom: How the hell you let that woman talk to you like that? !

Mia: Ma it wasn’t that serious. I paid her no mind.

Mom: That’s not the point Mia. She has no right to talk to you like that. You never ever ever allow a person I don’t care how old they are to talk to you like that!

Mia: She thought I was a kid ma.

Mom: Oh and that makes it right? That gives her the right to talk to you like that because she thinks you’re a kid? Oh fucking hell no. You’re too sweet baby. I’ve raised a pacifist. reaching over to grab some a gallon of milk.

Mom: Man my head hurts, she pissed me off. Mia stay here with the shopping carts I’ll be right back.

Mia: Ma where you going?

Mom: Stay there nena I’ll be right back I need to get some stuff from those aisles over there.

I don’t know why it didn’t hit me right away. She’d already been down those aisles… twice. She had everything she needed from there. A minute or so went by when I heard my mother and the woman arguing. Crap! My mom had tracked her down!

Woman: You’re daughter is disgusting!

Mom: You don’t know my daughter and to approach her like that was wrong.

Woman: I don’t care she shouldn’t be marking herself up like that. That is disgusting.

Mom: And that is your business because…?

Woman: I’m a 50 year old woman, I have a right to my opinion ! I think it’s disgusting that a child would do that to their body!

Mom: Yes you do have a right to your opinion but you don’t have the right to approach her like that. As the adult you claim that you are your behavior is reprehensible. If you don’t like her tattoos then don’t look at them. She wasn’t flashing them at you. YOU went out of your way to approach her. By the way lady she is not a child lady she is an adult.

Woman: I DON’T CARE WHO SHE IS! I don’t have time for this shit.

Mom: Well you seemed to have time for it a minute ago.

Woman: You’re a horrible mother!!

Mom: Lady enough already you’re pushing your luck here.

Woman: sing song voice I can’t hearrrrr you. It’s going in one ear and out the other.

That’s when “it” was born…THE BITCH SLAP HEARD ALL AROUND PATHMARK! Heads jerked up at the sound of it. It echoed in the crowded supermarket. Grown men winced and collectively groaned. “Awww man that’s got to hurt! If I can hear it all the way over here!” I heard some guy standing behind me say. Immediately after the slap you heard the sound of someone falling back into the merchandise and my mom’s voice….

Mom:standing over her Can you hear me now?! Can you hear me now?! I bet you sure as hell can.

The woman mumbled something unintelligible.

Mom: You want to call the police? Go ahead I’ll wait right here. Here you wanna use my cell phone to call them? It’s going to take them a few minutes to get here. While we’re waiting for them to be arrive I will be beating your ass down. I’m going to jail but you’ll be going straight to the hospital from here.

several seconds went by

Mom: You’re mighty quiet now. Hmm nothing you want to say? If you need to find me I’ll be in the frozen food section.

My mother then emerged from the aisle flexing her right hand and rubbing her wrist as she walked towards me.

Mia: Ma oh my God! Ma did you hit her?

Mom: She won’t be mouthing off to no one else no time soon.

Mia: Ma what does Buddah say about physical agression.. what would Jesus do?

Mom: Screw that shit I'm Puerto Rican we don't play that shit. We tried that pacifist shit before and you know what it got us? Our island invaded and taken over by los gringos. She flipped on my child? Oh hell no the bitch needed to think about that before she opened her mouth. She's lucky I didn't keep hitting her.

The look on her face and the people who’d witnessed the bitch slap heard all around Pathmark was just too much for me. I dissolved into a fit of uncontrollable laughter right then and there.

Mia: I swear woman I don’t know who I came out to be like.

Mom: I dunno your grandmother I guess. Grandma Fefi.

Mia: I am not a punk!

Mom: Oooooh I’m telling your father you called his mother a punk!

Mia: Shhhh you granny slapper!

Mom: She wasn’t that old! She was 6 years older than me she was 50 she told me so.

Mia: So?

Mom: Ayy please if she wanna run her mouth like a 20 year old then she need to be prepared to handle a slap like a 20 year old.

An hour later the lady walked by us as we stood in line she was shocked to see my mom still there. I guess she’d been giving my mom enough time to leave the supermarket. I found hard to believe that she’d spent all that time in the market just for one 12 oz container of Feta cheese. My mom stared at her straight in the eye putting her folded shopping list on top of the eggs and then clipping her pen to the neck of her t-shirt all the while never looking away from the woman. The woman looked shaken. The side of her face was burgundy and swollen. She was going to have one large and nasty bruise not to mention her eye wasn’t looking too good either. OUCH! Mami had hit her really hard. The woman looked timidly at me, I felt so bad for her. I really did. The look on her face just tore at my heart. She looked down and walked away choosing to stand on a much crowded line a couple of rows from us.

Mia: Ma I feel so bad for her.

Mom: I don't but then you've always been a better person that me. Thank God for that. You're a good person nena.


Click here to read entire post.

Posted by @ 3:00 PM
13 comment from: Blogger Jana, Blogger Charlotte, Blogger Aisha, Blogger Eunee, Blogger Mia, Blogger don_veto, Anonymous Nina, Blogger Mica, Blogger Jane, Blogger christina/ohio, Blogger laila, Blogger DannieS72, Blogger BD,

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

That’ll do pig , that’ll do

Every now and then you have one of those “Babe” moments when you just gotta pat yourself on the back and say,"Ya done good … that’ll do pig , that’ll do." and just bask in the glow of the moment. I am having one of those glowy moments right now. Slap some wings on my back, throw a diaper on my ass and hand me some heart tipped arrows. I am giving Cupid a run for his money.

I wrote that in my diary last week after successfully hooking up a current friend with my favorite ex-boyfriend Patrick.

One of my home girls recently became available after having an epiphany and getting rid of the albatross around her neck she called a boyfriend. Her history with the loser was a long one. It took a long time for home girl to tap her inner “Super Chick” and break free of the bastard. When I realized that both of my friends were free the wheels in my brain started turning. My home girl found it kind of odd that I’d be hooking her up with my ex but c’mon man this isn’t just any ex this is my favorite ex… the dude that calls me “itty bitty”. I have so many great memories of the dude. As much as I adore him he just wasn’t “the one” for me. They had their first date and all seemed to go well.

They’ve been seeing each other for a week now and my “that’ll do pig, that’ll do." glowiness is fading…fast! Why do some females feel the need to rush things? Why do they want to feel the euphoria of love instantly instead of slowly letting it grow? Why for the love of ju ju beans why? Home girl calls me last night to vent about the fact that:

1) My boy doesn’t want to get married: WTF?! Of course he doesn’t want to get married. He isn’t in love….yet.

2) Homeboy doesn’t want children: Hark the Herald! I dare say WTF?! Please refer to the reason above.

There was a lot more but I’m just too stupefied to list it here. Whatever happened to take your time? Get to know each other. Why the rush? Do you have a catering hall and a church booked some where? Plus I got an odd vibe off of her tonight. We’re supposed to be hitting a club this weekend to celebrate a friends birthday and my home girl invite Patrick to tag along. “I hope he doesn’t feel out of place since my friends are going to be with us.” To which I replied “Na he’ll be fine I’m going to be there.” and she says, “What do you mean by that?!”… The way she said it was kind of cold. Yeah boy I sense a bit of insecurity in the air. What I meant by that was hello we’ve known each other for 9 years we’re used to hanging and partying together so at least he has one friend there that he is comfy with. I have no designs on him if I did I wouldn’t have hooked you up with him.

Next time I want to play cupid someone should kick me …really hard.


Click here to read entire post.

Posted by @ 2:11 AM
3 comment from: Blogger christina/ohio, Blogger Ritardo, Blogger The Krispy Dixie,

Saturday, August 05, 2006


It was one of those days you wished you could blow off school and head out to the beach. A group of friends and I were standing on the steps of the Clinton Building enjoying our conversation and the occasional cool breeze. Not too far from us stood another group of girls. One of the girls walked over to me and complemented me on one of my tattoos and her and her friends joined our conversation. Shortly afterwards we were joined by this nice Asian kid with the greatest Brooklyn accent known to man. The Asian kid started telling us a funny story about a homeless guy that was sitting on the steps nearby. While striking up a conversation with the kid the homeless guy had attempted to snatch the cigarette the kid was smoking out of his hand. He kind of scared the kid which in turn made the kid scurry on to where we were. I guess he thought we’d protect him. What a wuss.

I guess we attracted the homeless guy’s attention and he walked over to us trying to join in our conversation. There were two things I immediately noticed about him:
1) He was drunk
2) He had just been released from a nearby hospital judging from the patient ID bracelet on his wrist.

He also seemed to be mentally ill. I have a soft spot in my heart for the mentally ill, and the homeless. It wounds my heart that in a city of millions these people are so alone. People walk by them ignoring them as if they were contagious. People tend to forget that all of God’s children crave human contact.

Several times he addressed a couple of the girls and the guy only to be ignored. Finally he looked in my direction. I made eye contact with him. He asked about my tattoo and where I had gotten it. I answered his questions and included him in our conversation and pretty soon everyone else was talking him as well. The conversation was going well. He proved to be knowledgeable on a lot of thing he told the Asian kid,"never judge a book by its cover. I actually went to Harvard."

Just then a couple of girls joined us and one of them sat on the stairs. We were now a pretty large group attracting the attention of the campus police who every now and then glanced over to where we were. cue party music. Maybe he was expecting us to stage a sit in or something. But then again it’s always like that in the city anytime a group of minority kids gather, the popo becomes extra vigilant. After all you never know when we’re going to run amok.

The home less man looked at one of the girls that had just joined us, the one rubbing her tummy and asked her,"How many months are you? When is the baby due?" Needle scratches on record. Music comes to a halt. All heads turned towards the girl. The girl got up, all indignant and screeched,"WHAT?!!" In all fairness she did have a little bit of a tummy bulge. Maybe she should’ve been wearing one of those, “I’m not pregnant, I’m fat” buttons.

"It’s okay this is the 21st century there’s nothing to be ashamed of. It could happen to anyone.",the homeless guy added. She rolled her eyes at him and stomped off angrily only to return several minutes later with the campus popo in tow. The cop then asked the home less guy to leave campus. I felt sorry for the guy but understood security was just doing their job. I guess the homeless guy learned a valuable lesson whenever you meet a chunky female just ixnay on the pregnantay questions.


Click here to read entire post.

Posted by @ 3:54 PM
12 comment from: Blogger don_veto, Blogger Amani, Blogger Champ - Love Hound, Blogger christina/ohio, Blogger Aisha, Blogger Mia, Blogger Mica, Blogger Jane, Blogger Aisha, Blogger Jane, Blogger Mia, Blogger Jane,

Friday, August 04, 2006


It’s not unusual that I will stop by and help out my friend at her job. Especially when she wants to get out early because of plans we’ve made. It was for this reason that I was in the women’s shoe department holding up a pair of black size 7 stilettos when I noticed a pair of eyes studying me. I looked up stared back for a second and then turned my attention back to the shoes mentally calculating how many pairs would be needed to fill out the display. I was still holding onto the shoe when he approached me….”I bet they would look lovely on you” the image of me struggling to walk in the heels makes me laugh, “ Oh no I am not a graceful creature on heels like this. I have a fear of falling off of them.”

Man: You have a beautiful smile…

Mia: Thank you… the secret is in the floss…
I noticed he had a beautiful smile as well. He is actually quite a handsome man.

Man: Has anyone ever told you you have beautiful eyes?

Mia: smiling Thank you.

Man: They really are beautiful eyes.

Mia: Thank you again.
so far I like this guy. He’s good for the ego.

Man: I’ve seen you here before. I’ve seen him here a few times as well. I wanted to talk to you. Are you Dominican , Puerto Rican?

Mia: Puerto Rican

Man:I knew it… I love Puerto Rican women they are so beautiful.

Mia:On behalf of my fellow Puerto Rican sisters I thank you.

For the next several minutes we chat as he follows me up and down the shoe aisle as I fill it up with merchandise. His father is a diplomat from some oil rich nation and he is a graduate student. He seemed very charming and if he had asked me for my phone number at that point and left it at that I honestly would have given it to him. But then he just messed it up for himself and almost ended up with a stiletto embedded in his forehead.

Man:I would love to take you out tonight. Dinner, a helicopter ride around New York?

Mia: I’m sorry I have plans.

Man: If you’re nervous about going out with a stranger I understand perhaps you would like to bring your friend as well. Anywhere you want to go, we can go.

He mentions the name of some chi chi joint that I am so not dressed for and I tell him this.

Mia: Perhaps another time.

Man: I will take you shopping right now you can pick out whatever outfit you want.

Okay dude now you’re creeping me out. The New Yorker in me rears its head. Dude what are you like a serial killer on the hunt for your next victim? Mia, mia don’t be so harsh he’s just trying to be nice. Back in your cage beast.

Mia:That’s very sweet of you but I do have plans for tonight.

For a minute I debated inviting him to join us. It was a big crowd, one more person wouldn’t make a difference the more the merrier I always say. Then the bastard showed his true colors.

Man:I’ll pay you 100.00 to go out with me tonight.

Mia:Excuse me?

He repeats what he had just said. I look in the mirror to see if I can find the “broke ass bitch for rent sign” on my forehead. Nope there’s not one there. Okay the only other thing I can think of is that he must think I’m a hooker. I survey my outfit for the evening….nope… nothing slutty about it.

Mia: Dude you are aware of the fact I’m not a hooker right? If you want a hooker I can direct to the place where they chill at.

Man: My apologies. I am not trying to say you are a hooker. I am just telling you I really want to take you out. I have been here several times looking for you. I just really want to spend time with you.

Mia: Ah ha…. and you think that by offering me money which by the way I am worth much more than 100.00 bucks just to let you know. You think that by offering me money I will want to go out with you?

He continues to apologize but persists in his insistence that I go out with him. The he talks business. He is into Latina women, so passionate etc. He wants a Latina bed buddy and has been checking me out for awhile. He wants me to be his Latina bed buddy. I laugh and tell him to get away from me. He offers me more money, trips; in short he offers to make me a kept woman if I agree to be his lover. He obviously buys into the stereotypical image of Latinas. I blame Hollywood and it’s stereotyping of Latina woman as being perpetually horny. Even in videos we’re portrayed as bellacas. Remember Rob Thomas and Santana in Smooth? The Latin girl was basically feeling herself up throughout the whole song. At this point he’s working my last nerve and the only thing preventing me from beating him down with the stiletto heel and embedding it into his head is the assault charge that I will be hit with and I tell him so.

Before walking away from him I tell him, “You realize they sell women’s clothes and accessories here not actual women right?” The sad thing is that the guy thought he was being suave he’ll never realize hewasthisclose to getting a beat down in the middle of a shoe aisle in a major department store.


Click here to read entire post.

Posted by @ 2:42 AM
14 comment from: Blogger Charlotte, Blogger sexygoba, Blogger christina/ohio, Blogger Mica, Blogger Jane, Blogger Champ - Love Hound, Blogger Amani, Blogger DiiGMaa, Blogger Aisha, Blogger Mia, Blogger Aisha, Anonymous Anonymous, Blogger Mia, Blogger Tarek,

Tuesday, August 01, 2006

Papillona Sky's POST.A.NO.SECRET August Edition

It’s a new month the start of a cycle of new bills and time to participate in (drum roll please) Papillona Sky’s monthly Post. A. No. Secret. Tag. As the name implies people it’s a place to post something that is NOT a secret. I’m sure Lady P won’t mind if you choose to post a secret if that’s what you want to do, just leave your name off of it.

Here’s how the tag works…
1. Post it on your blog or just Email it to Papillona Sky.

2. Link it to POST.A.NO.SECRET blog.

3. Revealing your identity is optional

Be careful not to share any information you wouldn't want the world to see.

This is my POST.A.NO.SECRET contribution for the month of August… it’s got music too!


Click here to read entire post.

Posted by @ 11:34 AM
1 comment from: Blogger Emory,