Mia: Shaken Not Stirred


The true life stories of a NYC female.

Tuesday, October 31, 2006

Happy Halloween!


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Sunday, October 29, 2006

Hello my name is Mia and I steal fruit


We went out drinking Angela warned me “That’s enough Mia no more for you. You’re going to get drunk.” Oh yee of liffle fay, nunsent I’m not getting dwunk I’mma liffle tipsy that’s all! I thought to myself which is why when what’s his name brought me that last drink I drank it. When Angie came back from the loo she found me with a Cheshire cat grin downing my Sambusca. Sambusca the forbidden drink! Yeah that was the drink that put me over.

We went outside to hail a cab for me walking past Fine Fare’s out door produce display. “Oh look fruit! Let me get a fruit, let me get a pear!” I tried to make a break from underneath Angie’s umbrella to grab it but she stopped me. We walked a few more feet and I spotted some apples. It seems that when drunk I think fast on my wobbly feet. I kept staring at the apples, Granny Smith my favorite. All that stood between me and that gorgeous shiny pale green apple was a tall Italian chick named Angela because the Mexican produce guy seemed to have no objection to me having an apple. Well I think he was Mexican I’m not too sure he could’ve been Asian with 2 heads for all I know by that time things were starting to look a little blurry…okay I lie a lot blurry. Things were looking a lot blurry. Anyway back to the story….

As I was saying the guy guarding the produce seemed to have no objection to me having the afore mentioned apple… it was just Angela. I felt the light bulb go on over my head (oy that was going to ache in the morning), “Angie my phone! I can’t find my phone!” as I ran my finger over the phone in my pocket. Angie then left me under the umbrella while she ran off to search for my phone. As soon as she was out of site I pounced on the apples! No joke here I’m serious. I literally pounced on the fruit causing the produce guy to start laughing. I stood ¼ of a inch away from the apples my hand poised in the air ready to snatch one up. I turned my head to look at him and gave him a smile, and in my best Jim Carrey imitation hissed, “I’m taking this!” and waved it at him announcing my theft to the world. I could’ve sworn I heard him laugh. I reached into my messenger bag and pulled out a bottle of water and rinsed the apple off quickly yelled, “My germs!” and bit into it in order to prevent it from being taken away from me. A few minutes later my apple and I were in the back of a cab making our way home. Through out the ride home I chatted with Angie on the phone while spitting out apple peel all over the back of the cab. Don’t worry the cab driver was compensated for this he got a $20.00 tip.

As soon as I got home I put the half-eaten apple in the fridge for safe keeping. It seems I am also thrifty when plastered. Snuggled under my covers a bit later it suddenly hit me I have stolen fruit before under the influence of alcohol! Several months ago while drinking I snatched up two tiny limes and brought them home with me. I even waved them at the vendor and told him I was taking them and he just started laughing. I’m a fruit thief when drunk! As I drifted off to sleep the room started spinning and this dance song was playing in my head “Tumba la casa tumba la casa…” ” Why is this room spinning? Stop spinning! I’m never drinking like that again… why are there so many people here? Hello my name is Mia and I steal fruit. ” are the last things I heard myself mumbling before I drifted off to sleep.

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Saturday, October 28, 2006

A young priest and old priest


The white blurs are Angie and me behind the fence, the yellow blur is the EMS guy



It was too good not to share. Of course my mother had to call my aunt Nora and tell her what that I had gotten locked in the park the night before. At first my aunt couldn’t understand what ma was saying in between the gasps for air and hysterical laughter but she knew it was good because ma was doing the laugh-cry thing… Finally ma was able to tell Nora the whole story. Nora decided then and there that Angie is a jinx…


Nora: Mags wasn’t that Angie girl with Mia when she got the summons ?

Mom:Yeah she was

Nora: Maggie correct me if I am wrong. Wasn’t that the same girl who was with Mia when that crazed Chihuahua tried to rape Mia’s ankle?

Mom: Ahhh actually yeah. Yes she was.

Nora:Wasn’t she with Mia when Mia got trapped in the bathroom?

Mom:Well no…she was leaving to meet her and stepped into the bathroom to wash some hair gel off her hands.

Nora: Same thing it had something to do with Angie. When you took off the lock and the door still wouldn’t open where was Angie?

Mom:Umm standing next to me.

Nora: And who was Mia with when she got locked in the park?

Mom:Angie

Nora: I sense a pattern Mags. I rest my case that girl is a jinx to the littlest Amin.

that’s what she likes to call me the “littlest” Amin which by the way I am not, I’m just the shortest…there’s a big difference you know.

Nora: Mags my darling my habibi the time has come to keep that girl away from the littlest Amin. Or dip the bitch in some holy water or something.
All this stuff has been happening one after the other since July. Know what I’m saying?

Mom:(laughing) Yeah but you know Mia has always had crazy stuff happen to her. She’s known for that among her friends.
Nora:I dunno Mags I still think the girl is a jinx. You better tell Willie to whip out the bible and bitch slap her with it and do it with a quickness too before she gets our baby killed or something. Maybe I can talk to somebody at the mosque and see if they know a prayer that’ll help.

Mom: (laughing again) Oh man. Ooookay babe that’ll do that will do.

Nora: I’m just saying my love…

Mom: So um let me make the list if it will make you happy…we need a young priest and old priest?

Nora: Yeah man and a gallon of holy water.

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Thursday, October 26, 2006

This is getting to be a habit


I recently took up jogging because you never know when the need to out run a crazy mob armed with pitch forks and torches is going to come up. I like to plan for the future. Tuesday night Angie and I head out to my neighborhood track to run a few miles. You know in my ‘hood you don’t see Latinas running. If you do come across one the assumption is she’s trying to out run an abusive boyfriend, the cops,or a gang of females ready to tear her butt up. So as a public service to keep people from giving themselves whip lash by trying to see who we’re running from I decided it’s best if we ran at the track right across the street from my house. Everything was going great until it was time to leave. We walked over to the exit…it was locked…with a padlock and a chain. Locked, locked in this is getting to be a habit. I’ve lived in this ‘hood for 15 years I’ve sprinted the track, played tennis, and handball there at all hours of the day and night and that was the very first time I ever saw a lock on that gate.

Angie and I didn’t have our cell phones on us so dialing for help was not an option. We weighed our options; scaling the fence was an iffy thing it was about 35 feet high and to be honest I’ve been lax in my commando training. Luckily for us the tree lined street across the field is a popular spot for EMS to take their breaks. We waved them over and explained our situation. They laughed. Then they loaned me the phone to call home and explain what was going on because by this time we’d been trapped for over an hour and I thought my mom might be wondering where the hell I was plus I knew my dad would get me out. No one picked up the phone in my house and mind you everrrryone was home. My brother was on the phone with his girl friend and was ignoring the call waiting feature of our phone. I told the EMS guy to stick around because his services were going to be needed, I was going to kill my brother as soon as I was set free. He laughed, it seems I'm a very funny person during stressful situations. Must be why i'm always being invited to funerals. I tried calling my cell phone which I had left on the dining room table. I have a really annoying ring tone for Halloween, it’s a woman’s blood curdling scream and my mom hates it. I figured if I kept calling my phone it would annoy my mom so much she’d pick it up, she didn’t.

EMS couldn’t get us out so they called the cops and that’s when I almost got arrested. One of the officers a woman had a huge “respect mah authoratay!” attitude. I'm thinking she was picked on alot at school and the police uniform is now her security blanket or maybe she's just a natural born bitch I dunno. She asked me what was I doing in there. I would’ve thought that Angie and I dripping sweat in our running gear would’ve made it obvious…we were knitting of course! ” (1) I’m ova ‘ere waiting for the rest of my compadres so weez coulds ahhh carry out dis here hit. (2) figuring out a route to run mega kilos of cocaine through here...and finally; (3) waiting for the mother ship to take me home to planet “slap-a-bitchy-cop.” Those are the responses that flew through my head (sigh). I had to bite my lip to keep from saying them out loud. The officer and I then started bickering back and forth because I am not one to stay quiet when I feel someone is out of line. Angie had to step in and tell me to shut up because it was becoming apparent the officer wasn’t feeling the Mia; cuffs and a summons book were being reached for, arrest was being threatened. She probably would’ve scaled the fence summons book in her teeth just to get to me at that point. I think I saw traces of foam around her mouth. The other officer and the EMS workers thought that the cop was being a prick and said so.

I was finally able to get a hold of my mom. I quickly explained to her what had happened. My mother laughed like a raving lunatic. She even asked the EMS worker to take a photo of me behind the fence. They were all laughing. They all took turns on the phone with my mom hearing her laugh which in turn made them laugh harder. I’m glad I made their night.Another police squad was called to the scene so now we had 2 squad cars , 4 police officers, 2 EMS (Emergency Medical Services )workers, and one ESU (Emergency Services Unit) van. Obviously it was a slow night crime wise in The Bronx.

I recognized one of the newly arrived officers and covered my face with the blanket EMS gave me. He recognized me too he just couldn't put his finger on where he knew me from. I kept singing in my head, “dooooon’t ray-cog-nize meeeeeeee”. I had met the police officer before. He led a friend of mine on and after he got what he wanted ditched her and then tried to hook up with me a few weeks later. He didn't know she was a friend of mine. I shot him down in a not so nice way. I believe the term Officer Frodo was used due to his lack of height and the fact that he reminded me of a hobbit. I did it out of love for my friend I didn’t appreciate the game he ran on her. Don't get me wrong I wasn't interested in him and would have told him so.Only I never would've called him Officer Frodo and gone into my best Lord of The Rings impression, " my precioussss, my preciousssss." Now he was there standing before me and I was covering my face. He kept advancing towards me and staring. His staring was annoying me and I began to mutter, “keep it moving Frodo there’s no ring for you here…keep it moving." Look sometimes I just can't help myself, plus I was hungry, tired and cold so please cut me some slack.


When ESU arrived they tried to track down the master key for the lock. There was no master key. Now we know why the damned track was never locked at night there was no key. Then they tried to bust the lock open with a sledge hammer. When that didn’t work they whipped out a huge chainsaw and everyone started laughing at the sight of it. That’s when they all whipped out their camera phones and started taking pictures. Three and a half hours later we were freed.

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Tuesday, October 24, 2006

Il Primo Bacio (The First Kiss)


First kisses are always romantic but the passage of time and the loss of that love makes them even more cherished. We were a group of friends sharing memories; the discussion turned to the memories of first kisses…as the man shared his story I could see it all unfolding before my eyes as if a movie were playing in my head...

He had watched her for almost a year walking from the subway station past the football field every day. She wore her long hair in a single braid and it swang back and forth like a pendulum when she walked. Her braid made him smile because she always attached a quirky barrette or ribbon at the end of it. Sometimes there would be tiny jingle bells or fuzzy pom poms glued to the barrette. She was unlike any other girl he had ever seen. She was very pretty but took no pains to play up her beauty and that made her prettier in his eyes. Her style was her own eclectic no one in their neighborhood looked like her or dressed like her. She wore tinted glasses like John Lennon’s and was never without a flower in her hair. No one seemed to know anything about the girl except to say she lived around the corner. He often walked by her house hoping to catch a glimpse of her on the porch. Sometimes he got lucky and she'd look up and smile at him. He’d never had trouble talking to girls but just the thought of talking to this one girl made his stomach knot up. Since she managed to cross his mind more than once a day his mother was starting to think he had an ulcer.

She emerged from the subway unprepared for the rainstorm that had started minutes earlier. He watched her from beneath the awning of a brownstone that he had ducked under for cover. He couldn't help but laugh as she slowly walked in the rain occasionally stopping to kick at a puddle. She was getting thoroughly soaked while everyone ran past her covering their heads with whatever was handy. He called out to her asking her if she wanted to borrow his umbrella, he didn’t know why he said that he didn’t even have one on him. She turned and looked at him and gave him a smile that made his heart skip a beat, “No thank you I love the rain!” throwing her arms up in the air for emphasis. As she walked away the silver toned Goody barrette fastened to the end of her braid slid off and fell to the ground. This one had tiny multi-colored Ronco rhinestones glued to it. He waited until she was out of sight to scoop it up and put it in his pocket.

One day fate stepped in because it was obvious he was never going to have the courage to talk to the girl on his own. Sometimes on her way home she’d stop briefly to watch the football team practice. He was talking to a new team mate when the girl walked by. The kid ran up to the girl calling out her name. It turned out she was his sister. From then on the boy made it a point to drop the new kid off at his house everday after practice...he also picked him up on weekends too. The brother quickly figured out that the VIP treatment was because his popular team mate had a crush on his sister even though for the life of him he didn’t understand why.

Spring slowly became summer and on the first night of summer he managed to convince the girl to let him walk her home. Shortly after bumping into her at the pizza shop her brother and their dog disappeared. She didn’t know that the quarterback had actually paid the brother to do the vanishing act. They sat in the park talking while "waiting" for her brother to return for a couple of hours until it was finally time for her to get home lest she violate her curfew. They were several blocks away from her house when one of her sneaker laces became undone. He insisted on tying it for her and lifted her up placing her gently onto the church stoop. When he was done she stood up and was at eye level with him. He reached over and picked a flower from the planter on the stoop and placed it in her hair. Without a word between them he swooped in and kissed her. He held her face gently in his hands as if it were made of porcelain. When he parted her lips with his and tried to slide his tongue into her mouth she jumped back. It was then that he knew this was her first kiss… he smiled at her and whispered in her ear,"il vostro primo bacio, non sia spaventato io li insegnerà” (your first kiss, don’t be scared I’ll teach you”). Why he spoke to her in Italian he didn't know but when she whispered back to him in Spanish he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with the girl.

They stood there illuminated by the light of the nearby lamp post. The kiss felt electric a surge so poweful he could feel it in his toes. His knees felt like jello and he felt light headed…almost faint. He held her tight against him so tight he could feel her heart beating against his chest. As they kissed a radio could be heard playing a song in the distance. The song “A Theme From a Summer Place” gave their first kiss a soundtrack. The neighbors looking outside their window on that beautiful night would later say that he held her so close they seemed like one. That the kiss while innocent of groping was so passionate it could've set off smoke alarms. Their first kiss brought back memories of first loves and first kisses to those who saw them that night.

When the kiss was over he stepped back and told her what was in his heart. For two years all of their kisses seemed like first kisses. Then one day she was gone, the beat of his heart stopped by a reckless driver. Despite the fact that he's been happily married for the past ten years he still carries the barrette that had slipped off her braid in his pocket and a picture of her in his wallet. Thirty years later no matter where he is on the first night of summer he plays "that" song and relives the memory of il primo bacio and he crys at the memory of her.

Theme From A Summer Place

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Saturday, October 21, 2006

A NY State of Mind


Earlier this season I wrote about how especially beautiful New York is during the fall and here’s the proof. I’d like to dedicate this post to my friend The Don who is always in a New York State of mind and currently on a much needed break. Enjoy my friend you are missed.




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Friday, October 20, 2006

Welcome to this wonderful world Alexander!


My beloved friend Guyanette gave birth last week to a beautiful little guy by the name of Alexander Edon Cruz. ( 8lbs, 2 oz 22 inches long). He is the first baby born to our crew and it is written in the stars that this his life will be filled with love and music which is why I've dedicated "What a Wonderful World" by The Ramones to the little dude... I also see that there’s a wicked Mohawk in that baby’s future check out the head of hair on him…




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Thursday, October 19, 2006

A Page from my Journal


I went camping this past weekend with a group of women that are part of a non-profit program that mentors abused women. The point of the trip was to welcome the newest clients and match them up with their mentors. Here’s a page from my journal for that weekend…


Saturday: On the way up to the camp now and they’re playing the movie , “Enough” starring J-Lo. In this flick J-Lo plays an abused wife who turns the tables on her husband and kills him. Is this something we really should be showing these women? I mean we are going up to the middle of no where with these chicks. Supposed one of them has a flash back and flips the hell out while we’re there? I was thinking we should’ve been playing a Pixar flick like “Toy Story” or some Enya Cd’s something soothing to relax these chicks not amp them up.


Evening : We sat around talking with the women it was a productive session for those who felt strong enough to share their stories. I felt myself choking up wondering how does a woman get to the point where she allows a man to beat on her? The answer came in many forms, bad childhoods, sexual abuse, and low self-esteem. The reasons were different for all the women. Where did the courage to run come from? That answer seemed to remain constant their children gave them the courage to flee. For one woman it was when she found out her husband a pillar of his community was sexually abusing their daughter. For another it was when she awoke one day and found her husband standing over her with a gun and she thought of her kids.


Sunday: I’m used to being mistaken for a teenager it happens to me a lot. A couple of the moms brought their teenaged boys (16 and 17) on the trip. They’ve been hitting on me since we got here. No one bothered to tell them that i'm part of the staff and am 23 yrs old . One of the older women a project supervisor I had just met reprimanded one of the kids who was hitting on me.The boys assumed one of the mentors was my mom and I was just helping out. When she was done she came up to me and said, “Girl you are just too adorable. How old are you anyway baby?” “Twenty three m’am" was my reply. “I’ve got panties that look older than you.” She adds. Before I knew it my mouth had gotten the best of me, “Target is having a sale.” “Oh yes you are just too precious!”, she said pinching my cheek just a little harder than necessary. I think I’ve made a friend. Help.


Monday: I just got home the body is achy as all hell. I guess falling out 10 feet from that obstacle thingy onto the bed of rocks and landing on my back wasn't a good idea. Good thing I didn't hit my head. Note to self: Make sure next time chick behind you is not so nervous about heights.

On the way home I hear a voice coming from the back of the bus the woman sounds like she’s from deep in the hood. “Gurrrrl I know rigggght!”, she says to one of the other chicks. Who the hell is that? When did we stop and pick up stereotypical Taniqua-alize the thug girl from da hood ? Then it hits me wait a minute I know that voice… I look and it’s my friend. This is a white girl from an upper middle class enclave who’s never ever been to the hood. Maybe the woods were haunted and she got possessed by the spirit of a lost ghetto girl. I hear her again, “aigghttt I’m saying” I’ve never heard her talk like this. I put my head in my hands. WTF?! Why is this heffa talking like she’s Project Chick # 2 from some some stereotypical Hollywood flick ? What next she gonna whip out a Tupac CD from her bag and start braiding hair as she balances a 40 in her lap and a blunt from her lip?

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Wednesday, October 18, 2006

Uncloggable Beads


Warning: Post is slightly adult in content

It’s official, not that I ever had any doubt really my mother is without the coolest mom ever. Usually I name names when I write here but I don’t want to embarrass the chick…

A friend of mines has been going through a bit of sexual frustration and decided to purchase herself a “toy” to relieve her situation. However because she couldn't trust her parents not to open up the package when it arrived she asked me if she could have it delivered to my house instead. The day came when the package finally arrived. Ma looked up from her book to ask me why didn’t my friend have it to delivered to her house instead of ours thus saving her the trip of having to come to our house to pick it up…

Mia: Because it’s a (doing finger quotes) toy ma.

Mom: A (doing finger quotes back at me) toy? What is it Tickle Me Elmo?

Mia: Ma! A (finger quote) TOY!

I arch my eyebrow.

Mia: Ma a toy… a toy you know one of THOSE toys.

I give her a minute to get what I said

Mom: Really? One of THOSE toys? What's her face is a toucher? Oh my que sucia! You know Mia she could have saved herself a couple of bucks and just used her fingers. I mean damn it doesn’t matter how big it is it’s not the actual penetration that does the trick it’s the friction against the clitoris that produces the desired results.

Mia: Ma!

Mom: Que fue? If she's into self-loving it's nothing to be ashamed of. More power to her for being that comfortable with herself. If she’s bellaca she’s bellaca no shame in that. I’m just saying she didn’t have to spend any money to take care of her problem.


It’s not often that a conversation with my mom leaves me shaken but this was turning out to be one of those rare ones…


Mia: Thank you mother for the lesson on masturbation. If you don’t mind me asking HOW do you know this stuff anyway?

Mom: I did a research paper on women’s sexuality. Anything else you’re friend needs to know tell her to holla at me.

Mia: Mom you’re my mother!

Mom: So they tell me. You know Mia I wasn’t born a mother I was made one and just because you were born on Christmas that does not mean that you are the product of an immaculate conception. I didn’t exactly pick you out of a catalog you know.

Mia: Shhhh ma I shhhhhh I don’t need the mental images burned into my brain.

Mom: Hey I’m just saying why spend the money on a latex toy when she could have produced the same results (finger quote) naturally and not risk an allergic reaction.

Mia: Allergic reaction?

Mom: Yeah. She should make sure that thing is hypoallergenic before putting it to use. You know some people are allergic to latex it makes them break out in hives, rashes, swell up in some rare cases it even causes death. Can you imagine your friend dropping dead of an allergic reaction and being found with that thing buzzing away?

Mia: Oh my there’s a pretty picture.

just then my friend arrived to pick up her package. I warned my mother, “be nice ma no jokes!” she shrugged her shoulders and went back to her book. My friend opened the box to inspect the contents…she read the box of the toy’s box out loud…reciting the selling point of the toy…I know she was doing this in an attempt to shock my mother little did she know my mom isn’t easily flustered…

Friend:uncloggable beads…

Mom and Mia: what?

Friend: uncloggable beads…

Mom: It has beads? What the fuck is it a macramé (finger quote) toy? If it is I hope it’s water proof.

Mia: Ma!

Mom: Sorry. You know on second thought I can see why the beads should be uncloggable.

Friend: why?

she was about to launch into a graphic explanation when I interrupted her…

Mia: Ma!

Mom: (whispering to my friend) I’ll tell you later and if you still don’t get it I’ll draw some sketches for you.

Mia:Ma!


Mom: What?! Uncloggable beads how cool is that! Uncloggable beads girl! That alone is worth a laugh, uncloggable beads!

Just then my dad arrived from work and mom went off to tend to him. However for the rest of the night everytime she walked past us the living room she'd sing The Divinyls "I Touch Myself" a song about self-loving... all we could do was laugh...

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Tuesday, October 17, 2006

CBGB: My favorite memory


The New York City rock icon CBGB closed shop Sunday night and with it closes a chapter of music history. Every one’s whose ever been there has their own memory of the place, including yours truly. I'd gone with my friend Tiffany to hear The Used and met a Japanese music loving tourist.Sadly I can't recall her name but the memory of that night still makes me smile...

She had arrived alone the day before, knew no one in New York and was leaving in the morning. Her sole purpose had been to visit CBGB before it closed down because it was being threatened with eviction (again) and to see her favorite band The Used. I met her in the bathroom. She was so excited about being in New York about being in CBGB’s she was taking pictures of everything she came across including the bathroom! I felt compelled to apologize for the urine/beer stench filled ambiance of the dirty bathroom. We took turns looking out for each other while we used the facilities and struck up a conversation. We hit it off so well she invited Tiff and me to her hotel room to hang out after the show. We declined her invitation and warned her about inviting strangers to her room. The fact that she was so trusting tugged at my heart and made me very protective of her. For the rest of the night the three of us were inseparable.


The show ended and the band walked by us; I saw her camera go up but she was too shy to take a picture of them. I don’t know what came over me I'm usually type shy but I wanted to do something for the New York City lovin' Japanese girl who had come such a long way to see a band. Of course the fact that she thought my New York accent rocked had nothing to do with it. I took a deep breath and followed the band backstage. Trust me in a place as itty bitty as CBGB’s that’s not a hard thing to do. I went up the lead singer of the band and introduced myself to him and then told him about my new friend and her journey from Japan to New York just to see them play. He called the band over and they started talking to Tiffany and the girl. She was ecstatic!

They posed for pictures and even gave her their autograph. My shyness kicked in so for the most part I stood apart silent every now and then one of the guys would say something to me and I’d managed to make someone laugh. We were there for awhile when their manager came over and told them it was time to leave. The lead singer I guess thought I was the leader of our trio and came over to me and invited us to tag along with the band. The rest of the band chimed in their approval of the invitation . We begged off because of our early morning obligations and parted company. Tiff and I decided that for our own peace of mind we should drop our new friend off at her hotel. We got there just before dawn and as a couple of sanitation trucks drove by hugged and said our good-byes. The girl turned around calling out to us she said it had been like a dream she had a hard time believing it all had been real she felt like Cinderella and then she ducked into the hotel. The look on her face had been priceless! And that my friends is my favorite memory of CBGB’s.

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Monday, October 16, 2006

Perdoname...(Forgive me)


Several weeks ago I saw a man cry, a man I thought incapable of tears. It brought me no satisfaction to witness the event despite my own anger at him. Her anger however had quickly evaporated and turned into disappointment. The pedestal she had placed her friend on was now crumbling beneath his feet. The effects of his actions against her loved one were being felt by the entire family and beyond in terms of hurt, anger, and divided loyalty because see what people often forget is that when you do something to one person there are a hundred others affected by it.

When he arrived for dinner his eyes immediately searched for her. She spotted him and took the exit furthest away from him out of the room. She wasn’t ready to talk to him yet. He quickly went after her catching her by her arm in the vestibule of the second floor. I was trapped in the ante- room of the vestibule. There was no where for me to go except through them or back into the small room. I faded back into the room picking up a book trying to concentrate on the words instead of what was about to happen before me.

His hands went to her face holding it as he leaned in to kiss both sides of her face, she put her hands on his chest to stop him…“My love I’ve missed you so much.” he said and stopped to look at her twirling one of her long ringlets in between his fingers. He tried to pull her in to hug her, again she resisted. Instead she gave him a cold hard look. He stepped back looking confused, “Habibi what’s wrong?” he asked and from her poured a mixture of tears, emotions and words… even though she spoke to him in a kind manner her familiar loving tone was absent . “How could you?” she asked over and over again,” I thought you were better than that.”

He tried to make her see his side. He implored her to understand that his anger had gotten the best of him. Every time he tried to touch her, to reach out for her she pulled away from him. She refused to accept his explanations or his excuses. “You’re angry at me.” He said grabbing her hands in his and kissing them. “No I am not angry. What I am is disappointed. I am disappointed in you.” She said pulling her hands away from his, poking her finger into his chest for emphasis. She then grabbed his face holding it close to hers, staring into his eyes. “Where is that kind gentle person, my life long friend, my brother? What have you done with him?” she said. “I’m sorry. So very, very sorry.” He said, “It’s not me that you need to be apologizing to. ” she said putting her forehead against his. “What you did can not be taken back, but you need to find a way to make it right.”

Then she delivered the final blow, “I always thought you to be a better person and it broke my heart to find that you were not.” she leaned in and kissed his face as a tear rolled down her cheek. His wiped it away with his fingertip and rested his hand on her cheek. “Please forgive me.” The pain in his voice was so corpulent you could reach out and touch it with your hands. “I’m so disappointed in you my friend.”and then she walked away from him and back down the stairs. I felt his pain as he crumpled onto the vestibule chair his head in his hands. I think he would have suffered less if she had struck him and called him something really vile. He could deal with that. What he couldn’t deal with was her disappointment and tears. After a minute he picked up his head someone was calling his name. The sight of him wiping his tears on his sleeve will stay with me forever, it broke my heart. I wanted to run after her and beg her to please forgive him. I know I already had.



Note: Translation of 1st chorus:

I request peace to this war, I want to lay down my arms
To end this hostility, that leads nowhere
I propose a truce , I plead to your conscience
Mine's is already killing me, the one speaking to you has surrendered
he’s lost all his strength, and today comes to beg
And to ask for forgiveness
forgive me, forgive me,
Don’t make me cry, words fail me
forgive me, forgive me
what must I do, if you want I’ll surrender at your feet

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Saturday, October 14, 2006

Dueling Banjos...


I took this last year Upstate


There’s something about nature that speaks to me I think that in a past life I must’ve been a mountain woman or a hermit. I take notice of the scents, colors, and schemes Mother Nature gives us but when I take the time to point the out to friends they always look at me as if I’ve had too much to drink. How they can fail to notice and be in awe the beauty that surrounds us is beyond me. At night I’m always looking up towards the moon and the stars mesmerized by the show that the nightly show the heavens put on. You should see the amount of photos I take of the night time sky (see above) sunsets, flowers etc. I’m always trying to capture the beauty of what I see with my camera. The camera never really does the subject justice.

Tonight I will be sleeping under the stars somewhere up state in a camping ground after having spent the day hiking up mountains and hopefully at one point in quiet reflection besides a stream. I’m spending the weekend with a group of women one of which I will be mentoring getting to know each other. My mom was helping me pack for the trip and offered words of wisdom…

Mom: Don’t leave out any food or nada you don’t want to attract any bears. Although I think they should be going into hibernation now. If you see a bear don’t try to out run it just walk backwards slooooowly away from it.

Mia: Gotcha practice bear safety. Don’t worry ma we’ll be in a cabin.

Mom: Mia if by any chance while hiking on a trail you come across a couple of weird looking characters playing the theme from Deliverance on their banjos don’t stop to look run your ass on outta there. Especially if someone says, “ You sure got a purty mouth.” Make sure you grab Angela while you’re running because you know how nosy she is she will stop to ask questions etc and next thing you know it’s a scene out of Texas Chainsaw Massacre…

Angela: Deliverance?

I start to giggle because know the movie she’s talking about… it's a 1972 classic my mom saw it well into her teens and it still gives her the creeps

Mom: Yeah…she begins to play the movie's theme song Dueling Banjos on her imaginary banjo





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Thursday, October 12, 2006

Kindred spirits


A friend and I were walking past an old man sitting on bench we happened to glance in his direction and noticed he was flipping us off, giving us finger for no apparent reason other than that he could.

I smiled at him and without missing a beat or slowing down I said to him “Yeah old man I feel you. It’s been one of those days for me too. ” and flipped the finger right back at him. A huge smile quickly broke out on his face and I could hear the sound of his rumbling laughter as as I walked down the block. “What the fuck was that all about?” said the chick walking behind me, “kindred spirits” I replied.

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Wednesday, October 11, 2006

Tears


My last class had just ended and one of my classmates a police officer got paged by his precinct. He wasn’t the only one from the looks of things. A good 70 percent of our student body is made up of police officers and fire fighters those that were in school today were being called to duty. He let out a heavy sigh and looked at me, “I have to go in to work we’re all being called in…a plane crashed into a building.” My head started spinning I felt my heart leap into my chest…tears already stinging my eyes… good lord not again not this fucking shit again… “W-w-what?” He didn’t have any more information other than that. I watched him leave not knowing what he was going into. I prayed that he would be safe that they’d all be okay. We all ran to the library looking for some news was it another attack? Wtf was going on? It took me back five years ago to 911. I had been in school when the news broke. God not again I thought to myself not again.

I grabbed my phone and instinctively dialed home. I wanted to go home.“Ma? Have you heard? What’s going on? All of the cops and firefighters are being called out of my school.” “Mia a plane crashed into the condos over on 72nd street the ones on York Ave.” “Ma is it…?” “No baby not this time. At least I don’t think so think about it 72nd and York what’s down there other than stores, rich people and expensive residences? Nothing of symbolic importance to terrorists…I hope. They’re not sure if it was a helicopter or a private plane nothing has been confirmed yet. Hold on sweetie they’re saying something on the TV… Okay Mia it’s not terror related and it was a mall private plane…the fires are almost under control…”

I was relieved and then it dawned on me someone was in that plane. Perhaps someone’s husband,wife, lover significant other this had been someone’s son, daughter.. maybe someone’s father, mother? Man so sad it’s so damn sad yet I was happy? How could I be happy? Okay not happy in the wooo hoo let’s throw a fiesta and beat up on a piñata happy I was relieved yeah that was it. Relieved. I was relieved that it wasn’t another terror attack yet I still felt the tears ready to explode…was it relief? Was it sadness over the lost of life? Was it PMS, hormones? “Ma?” my voice was choking up…”It’s okay baby. We were all scared you weren’t alone. Come home darling skip your work out today the trains are going to be packed people are being evacuated from that area avoid the east side.”

I rode the subway home in silence every where people seemed like me they were in a state of semi-shock, relieved yet saddened by what had happened. The news was filtering all over the city the plane had been belonged to one of The New York Yankees a pitcher by the name of Cory Lidle, 34 years old a husband and father of a six year old boy. So very sad. I arrived home and the news was on I walked past the TV I didn’t want to see the video footage brought back too many memories.

Just then my phone rang…it was my friend Guaynette. Reina, Angie and me had spent last night walking her 9 month pregnant ass all over The Bronx hoping to make her labor easier. She was in the hospital two centimeters dilated. I felt a familiar sting in my eyes…tears…but this time they were flowing for a different reason…joy…despite the tragedies of the world life goes on…despite our hidden fears…despite the hate…despite the pain of loss ….despite it all life goes on…when I sat down to write this several lives had been destroyed in a ball of fire…by the time you read this a new life already precious to his parents, his family, precious to my friends and I will have slipped into this world bringing joy with him easing the memory of this horrible day. My tears then will be in celebration of the miracle, the gift of life.

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Posted by @ 9:58 PM
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Wasn't the humping chihuahua enough?


I recently wrote about how the script of my life seems to be a sitcom to the higher powers that be. I present to you another slice….


I’d just washed my hands and turned the bathroom door knob to get out. The door wouldn’t open. I jiggled the door knob …nada…I pulled on the door… still nada. The door wouldn’t open. The same thing had happened to me yesterday but after a little jiggling and giggling the door opened. My dad promised to replace the bathroom lock during the weekend. I jiggled the door knob again ….zip…oh man this wasn’t looking good...

Mia: Ma?

My mom was out there I had passed her on my way to the bathroom. She’d get me out of this. She did it yesterday after having a nonstop giggling fit.

Mia: Ma? Ma? Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa?!!!

Nothing. She must be on the other side of the apartment. I remembered my little sister Caity was home….

Mia: Caity?

Nothing. I know she’s there I can hear the TV on in her room. She’s watching videos. Her room is directly across a few feet away from our bathroom…..Damn heffa is probably ignoring me waiting until her favorite video finished. I’m gonna kill that kid one day….so help me jeezus a soon as I find a place to dump her body it is so on!

Mia: Caity? Woooo hoooo Caity…. CAITLIN!!!

sigh. I need to get out of here. Cleo, cleo is on the other side of the door! Aha my trusty side kick will help me.

Mia: Cleo go get mommy. Go get mommy Cleo.

I feel her jumping on the door trying to get to me. No no no go get MY MOMMY…you know Lassie makes it look like a piece o’ cake on those old re-runs. She’s such a good girl.

Mia: Cleo go get Maggie..Maggie Cleo go get Maggie!

I hear her scurrying away. For all I know she’s using the opportunity that I’m locked in the bathroom to chase one of the cats. I bang my head on the door…why why whyyyy me lord wasn’t the humping Chihuahua last night enough? Just then I spot my phone on the sink. Oh my phone my precious precious phone I will call my mommy! I hear the house phone ringing…nothing..nada…no one is picking it up…not even that phone vulture Caity…I swear the kid can hear the phone ringing from a block away. I’ve been locked in the bathroom for about 5 minutes by now. Oh my gawd where is my mom, did she go out? I try call out again

Mia: Maaaaaaa?! MOMMY!!!...MOMMY!!!! MA-HA-MEEEEEE! MA-HA-MEEEEE!


Caity: Mia? Where are you?


Mia: I press my face against the door I’m in the bathroom Caity.

Caity: what are you doing in there?

Mia: I’m stuck. The door won’t open.

Caity laughs. Yeah Im gonna kill this kid

Caity: Hold up I’ll get you out.

she tries jiggling the door knob, pushing the door nothing seems to be working.

Mia: Caity where’s ma?

Caity: She’s in the other bathroom taking a shower.


Mia: Please go get her.

Caity is gone for a minute or so. She comes back with a message from mom she’ll be here in a second as soon as she gets dressed. In the meanwhile Caity continues to try to get the door open. She tries to kick it open.

Mom: Mia I’m here baby step away from the door I’m going to try to push it in honey.

My mom places her hand on the door knob and starts giggling nothing big a small chuckle. The more she tries to open the door the harder she laughs the looser her grip…the harder she laughs it’s a vicious cycle. She cant get the door open because she is laughing so hard.


Mom: Hmmm this isn’t budging sweetie. I’ll be right back I’m going to get a screw driver I have to take this knob off.

She then dissolves into another fit of hysterical laugher. Angela comes in and between gasps my mother explains to her what’s going on. Angela starts to laugh as well. Mom took apart the door knob but the latch wouldn’t come out it was stuck. My mother peeked into the hole and saw me. This made her laugh even harder.

Mom: Mia…buahahahah…Mia…buahahaha….ohhhh shit…Mia….oooooh ooohhh shit oh shit…buahahahah…Ohhhh my Mia Mia I can’t breathe…buahahahaha! Ayyy ayyyy dios mio! My sides ouch ouch my sides it hurts too much ayyyyy buahaha hahaha …ayyyy carajo!

by this time everyone is laughing along with my mom including me we’re all laughing so hard we’re crying. Angela falls on the floor from laughing so hard. My uncle hearing my mother runs in thinking something was wrong with her. He checks out the situation and begins laughing too. Oh yeah one big happy family. My mom holds up the dismantled door knob she’s gasping for air holding her sides trying to tell my uncle what was going on. He peeks through the hole in the door where the door knob had been…

Uncle: Hi ia.

Mia:I wave weakly I’m stuck.

Uncle: So I’ve heard.

Mom: still laughingOhhhhhhhhh shit oh my god…ohhhh man I can’t breathe… my chest…oh man this is great… buahahahahahaaaaaa…


my uncle slides his drivers license in the door jamb trying to get the latch to release it’s grip. It doesn’t work. This makes my mother laugh even harder. She puts her face up to the door knob hole


Mom: Mia? Ayyy you’re okay sweetie?


I put my face in front of the hole

Mia: Yeah ma I am

Mom: You may not be making it to school today….and begins to laugh hysterically again… Caity…. caity get me the camera I need a picture of this!

my sister handed my mom the camera I was still bending over my face in front of the hole that the door knob once called home. I didn’t think she would actually do it but she did the woman took a picture of me in between laughing. (see photo on top)

Mom: Are you crying nena? Porque are your eyes swollen?

Mia: From all the laughing. I was crying from all the laughing. Now I know where I get that crazy laugh from.

I guess the thought that I had been crying because I was locked in the e bathroom was too much for her. She felt really bad for me because all of a sudden she turns and tells my uncle to kick the door in…

I was locked in that damn bathroom for about 25 minutes. When my dad came home my mom told him the story and showed him the photo. Now it was his turn to laugh.

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Tuesday, October 10, 2006

Mia:Lord of The Dance!



Angie and I were walking past a house and these two adorable half breed Chihuahuas ran out of the front yard up to us. We oohed and ahhed over them and then went about our business. We had managed to walk several feet when the familiar sound of paws on the sidewalk made me turn around. The little dog was following me. I bent down and petted him and walked away. He kept running around me in circles sniffing my leg well actually my ankle because that’s all he could reach. It seems that the pooch decided that he and my ankle needed to make a love connection if you get my drift.

Every time I took a step to leave the little bastard attempted to hop on my foot and mount my ankle. I tried to play it off like nothing was happening, trying to keep my composure because the sight of this horny little dog kicking it to my ankle was funny as all hell. At one point it looked as if I were doing an Irish jig. I was Mia Lord of The Dance! I wondered how long this would go on before he would finally over power my ankle and have his way with it when his owner ran out of her house towards me laughing. She’d been watching the whole thing from her kitchen window and decided to come out and help me since mini pooch wasn’t letting me leave the block.

There are times when parts of my life play out like a situation comedy. It's as if some higher power is writing the script of my life for an unseen audience out there. So far it's going good I hope by the end of its run I've earned an Emmy or whatever award the cosmos give out for best show.

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Sunday, October 08, 2006

Mia:The Brain Washer


Everytime I think about it makes me chuckle. I’ve been called many things in my life to my face and behind my back but a bad influence and brain washer have never been among them…

Let’s start from the beginning shall we? Oh yes we shall. A couple of semesters ago I met this chick at school named Angela. The few heads that read this blog on the regular may remember me mentioning her a few times. We hit it off right away because we both had the same major and similar career goals. Her personal life was a mess and I became sort of a mentor to her someone for her to talk to. I am part of a program that mentors abused women and got Angie involved in the program. I felt that the program would be beneficial to her as well as therapeutic. When her mother found out that she had joined the mentoring program she got mad and asked why couldn’t Angie mind her own business. Then Angie told her mother that she was going to follow my foot steps and join the Peace Corps her mom was heated and said I was a bad influence. There ya have it people I am a bad influence. I wish I gave a flying pickle as to the mothers' opinion of me and maybe this way I wouldn't find it so funny because my father is burnt...yet I don't. Who knew that encouraging a friend to be less self-centered and show empathy for others,and to do something to help the less fortunate is right up there with encouraging your friend to shoot heroin between her toes and to sprinkle cocaine on her raisin bran.

We had a program meeting early this morning so Angie got up earlier than usual for a Saturday. Her father was livid that she had gotten up early to attend this meeting and told her I was brain washing her. Holy crap I am like a cult leader now wtf? Fear me people I have the power to brain wash as a matter of fact point me to Washington power like this should not be wasted on peons like college students! Now y’all need to be wary that I don’t start serving spiked kool-aid at UN confrences.

If his past actions are any indication of his mindset I expect to be followed around by a private detective pretty soon. Oh yeah and I imagine that when he finds out Angie is bouncing to the Peace Corps with me he’ll probably have a hit put out on me which is why I may need to go into hiding as soon as I stop laughing over this.

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Posted by @ 2:52 AM
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Charlotte's Tag...


In an attempt to make up for her serious lack of posting. How DARE she have a hectic life! Charlotte tagged me for a book tag thingy….


1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 23.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the next 3 sentences on your blog along with these instructions.
5. Don’t you dare dig for that "cool" or "intellectual" book in your closet! I know you were thinking about it! Just pick up whatever is closest.
6. Tag five people.



“If you’re looking for the talented one”, said the pfenix-well, the pfenix if he spoke-“this is the one for you. I’ve been watching for an hour, and she takes little notice of anything but her music.”


The book is Son of a Witch by Gregory Maguire, it’s the sequel to Wicked the real story of what went down in the Land of Oz between Dorothy and The Wicked Witch.

I don’t tag peeps so if you’re into this type of stuff consider yourself tagged!

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Saturday, October 07, 2006

Book Crossing



I was riding the subway home a few nights ago when I spotted a book left on the seat next to me,Thirteen Moons by Charles Frazier. Frazier by the way is the author of Cold Mountain (patoo, patoo) I only spit on the ground because it was made into a gut wrenching movie whose ending I hated. I wont spoil it for you just in case you’ve never seen/read it but suffice to say it ‘tis not Cinderella buddy.

After a few stops when it became evident that it didn’t belong to any of my fellow passengers I picked it up and ever so s-s-s-s-slowly opened the book ducking my head kind of low and squinting my eyes. I opened the book timidly half afraid that it would blow up in my hand or that it would reveal some vile and disgusting content. Instead I found a small business sized card (see below) and what it said made me smile, “I’m a very special book. You see, I’m traveling around the world making new friends, I hope I’ve met another friend in you...”

The smile remained on my face for the entire ride home. Maybe it was the idea that the book much like myself suffers from wander lust. When I got home I logged onto my laptop and per the label’s instruction paid Book Crossing a visit . I learned that the book had been released into the subway a few days earlier by 40 year old Brooklynite Josh Karpf a Random House editor. I told my mom the story of how I found the book but didn’t tell her about the label inside of the book. When she opened the book and saw the label she too smiled, “Awwww that is so sweet Mia you have to read the book and pass it on.” So that’s exactly what I am going to do. After moms and I finish reading it I’ll release the book out into the world. In the meantime check out the link to the site. I intend to release a few books out there; who knows maybe you guys will come across some of them and finding it will make you smile as well.


Click Here To Join Book Crossing

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Posted by @ 3:14 AM
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Wednesday, October 04, 2006

Nothing I can say will make a difference


A teenaged girl walking home from school with several friends was attacked by her “father” the man who has helped raised her since she was toddler. She was grabbed by her hair and her head rammed several times into a nearby car. Still being held by her hair she was thrown into his car and driven home. Pulled out by her hair she was thrown into her house where the father proceeded to beat the shit out of her. He beat her as if she were a grown man who had insulted his dying mother. Her eyes were blackened; she had more bumps and brusies than a stunt man. She was beaten for walking with a guy people. She was walking home from school with this guy AND several girls who lived around her way. They had to walk past her house to get to their homes anyway so they all decided to walk together. She was not groping, fondling, kissing, or giving him head. She was only walking with him....and a group of girls.

This happened right here in New York City not some far off country. The girl is my cousin. She straddles the line between two cultures, two religions. She is the child of a Hispanic father and an Arab mother; the result of a rebellious period of youth, a teen pregnancy. When the child was a toddler the mother was given the chance to come back into her family under the condition that she break it off with the baby’s Latino father. She also had to enter into an arranged marriage and convert to Islam. She gave in and no one faulted her. For her the approval of her father was like munchies to a pot head... necessary. Even though he was heart broken the Latino father accepted the break-up. What he didn't accept was the idea that he should forget he had a child he refused to be pushed out of his daughter's life.

The family seems blind to her pain, she hides it well. At home the latina side of her is suffocated, supressed, all that matters is her Arab half. To them her hispanic side is incidental, nothing of value, and nothing worth preserving. They do not realize that to deny that side of her is causing conflict. She is being raised as an Arab woman, as a Muslim. The problem is that the teenager does not feel she is these things. In her heart of hearts she identifies with the Latino side of her family more than the Arab. The only time she feels free to be herself is when she is with her biological father and his family. She hides this from her mother afraid to hurt her feelings, afraid of the devastation it would cause her mother. Her mother doesn’t know who her daughter is. She accepts the daily farce that the daughter presents to her as truth. Her identity at home is simply a costume she throws on and just as quickly casts off when she walks out into the world.

Ramadan is upon us and she breaks her fast as soon as she leaves her house for school ordering a bacon and egg on a roll. We talk about religion,our cultures, her love of my father's pernil (pork shoulder)eaten on the sly during Christmas. She makes fun of me for not eating meat. It's not a religious thing with me it's an allergy thing. Despite her mother and father's plans for her she tells me she does not intend to marry an Arab man or a Muslim. Growing up with her step-father’s ignorance and the ignorance in general of the Arab men in her family have turned her off to Arab men. She sees Islam as a religion of violence not peace and points to heart wrenching moments in recent history to back her view. I tell her those were fanatics. They do not understand or act in the name of true Islam only their twisted ideals. Me the daughter of a Catholic man and a Buddhist woman with no desire to form religious affiliations instead preferring to learn from all. Yeah me, I am actually defending Islam to her. I also tell her not all Arab men are ignorant, it’s impossible!

She cocks her eyebrow at me patting my head in a patronizing way. I get the point she’s making. I am a Latina and since the age of 15 i've had the freedoms my cousin has longed wished for. I love my Arab family and despite my uncle's attempts to "reign" me in I follow my own path. I come and go into his house at will my niche carved out for me. I follow my uncle's arcane rules while I am there because I love and respect him. I found my voice long ago and when he attempts to put his foot on my metaphorical neck I kiss him on the cheek and lift his foot off of me with a wink and go about my business. She's right I can’t possibly understand what she is living with on a daily basis. I’m not in her shoes. I realized nothing I can say will make a difference. She has to find her own voice, her own way.

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Posted by @ 12:29 PM
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Tuesday, October 03, 2006

Tuddy Beer Tuesday: Tuddy gets sick.


It's Tuesday time for the lastest peek into Tuddy Beer and Miss Cuddly's lives.
Usually Tuddy Beer and Miss Cuddly chill with friends on the weekends. This weekend they were supposed to go to a one of the weekly Ramadan dinners hosted by their family followed by a night of karioke. However poor Tuddy seemed to have caught the "bug" that's been going around for the past couple of weeks. Must be the change of weather....

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Saturday;Tuddy wakes up Miss Cuddly, he is not feeling well. His tummy is queasy and his head hurts, he also has a fever. He knows it's not a hang over because he didn't go out drinking last night. Miss Cuddly hopes he doesn't start to hurl because she can't deal with hurling...if he hurls she's gonna spew too. She decides to call their mom.

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Posted by @ 12:51 AM
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Miss Cuddly calls mom to tell her despite the many chickens and cornish game hens that sacrificed their lives for tonight's dinner. She and Tuddy can't make Ramadan dinner Tuddy is sick. "Mom can you come over?" "Miss Cuddly were you and Tuddy out throwing back mojitos? Is the bear hung over?" "No mom we stood home and watched "Fire" by the director of "Water".

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Posted by @ 12:50 AM
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Auntie Nuna hearing that her precious Tuddy is sick rushes right over taking a break from preparing dinner. Plus her husband's uncles and wives were in her house driving her nuts so she was dying to run out of the house. Tuddy's illness provided the perfect excuse.

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Posted by @ 12:48 AM
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Mom comes right over and bakes Tuddy some of his favorite cookies. Honey almond cookies with white tea are his favorite treat whenever he gets sick.

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Posted by @ 12:47 AM
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Auntie Nuna and Miss Cuddly share some tea while mama checks in on Tuddy. They discuss Miss Cuddly's plans for grad school, the true meaning of life,Whitney Houston's divorce and the latest plot twist on "Weeds".

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Posted by @ 12:45 AM
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Miss Cuddly takes a break and is deep into her book... "Miss Cuddly would you care to show us the book you're reading?" asks auntie.

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Posted by @ 12:43 AM
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Miss Cuddly reads her favorite book, "Barbar's Spanish Lessons" it's been her favorite since she was 5 years old. If only they had published "Barbar's Arabic Lessons" it would have made learning the language so much easier for her.

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Posted by @ 12:42 AM
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Miss Cuddly reads post card from their pen pal Angel out in Spain. They've all been pen pals since they were both in high school.

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Posted by @ 12:40 AM
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Auntie Nuna kisses Tuddy Beer before leaving for home. She makes Miss Cuddly promise that Tuddy will stay in bed and promised to send Ahmed over with some spinach pies for her.

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Posted by @ 12:38 AM
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Miss Cuddly calls their friends to tell them Tuddy is too sick to go out that night. Everyone is disappointed they were really looking forward to Tuddy's version of Elvis's "Teddy Bear".

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Posted by @ 12:36 AM
1 comment from: Blogger Manny,


Monday, October 02, 2006

Mass Transit Stories


There are so many things one can say about riding the mass transit system in New York City; it’s a separate universe from the rest of the city. While riding the subway you’ll often see mini soap operas, slices of people’s lives. The vignettes only last as long as it takes to reach the stop of the players or the audience. Here’s a couple that I was privy to…

Saturday: “Yo those niggas are stealing our culture!”

Reina and I were on the subway on our way home alongside a group of white suburban rocker kids down for a night of clubbing in the city. The kids were irked at what they were seeing. Urban trends are slow to reach the ‘burbs so what they were seeing was new to them minority ghetto fab kids rocking converses, leather wrist bands and chains on their jeans, oh my! This has long been the standard uniform of hard core rock and punk followers. But not too long ago when it became alright for rockers and hip hoppers to admit that they were influenced by and were feeling each others music did the line between the two musical genres become blurred. Artists like Jay-z and Linkin Park, Limp Bizkit and Method Man started recording together creating mashes. All this mashing started having an influence on fashion as well. The suburban kids on the subway were not feeling that at all. They were downright unhappy about it.

“Yo son these niggas are stealing our culture yo!” Theys be rocking the chains and shit . Yo that shit is ill son.” While the white kid raged on about the urban kids “stealing” their culture he was speaking in pure ghetto hood slang. I’d like to point out these kids looked like the closest they’ve ever been to the hood is watching “ Boyz in The Hood” on DVD.

As the kid kept popping crap he kept delving deeper and deeper into urban hood lexicon. I just looked at him and started laughing and in my most ghetto-est of ghetto-est accents; “Yea son then niggas stay jocking the rocker culture yo waddup with that son?” I said to Reina who just started cracking up, “Shhhh Mia!” Just then some black kids in “rocker” gear got on the train and the white kids reverted back to proper English not once did the word “nigga” escape their lips. Smart kids! The 34th street station came up and they got off.



Sunday: “I am GOD!”

I was on my way to meet Angie when this lady got on the bus with her 6 year old son. She asked him to sit down just in case the bus came to a sudden stop or something. The kid didn’t want to sit she tried explaining to him why it was important for him to sit. She touched his arm trying to get him to sit.

Boy : Don’t touch my face!

Mother : (calmly) I didn’t touch your face I touched your arm. Please sit down.

Boy: you’re NOT my father you can’t tell me what to do.

Mother : Look right now I am God!

I expected the mom to launch into the “I brought you into this world and I will take you out of this world” speech but she didn’t. Instead the brat decided to tell his mother off. They continued to bicker back and forth.

Mother : I will not tolerate the behavior that your father does now sit down!


The bus driver and a few of the passengers looked like they wanted to slap the stuffing out of the kid. To be honest he was plucking my last nerve as well. If I had dared to talk like that to my mother as a kid I would be sitting here typing this out while wearing dentures.

Mother : Look you’re starting to piss me off

Boy: No YOU’RE starting to piss me off!

“SLAP!” and all fell silent. The child said no more, he didn’t even dare wail in agony. He looked at his mother in shock. God had spoken. The bus stopped and I had to get off.

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Posted by @ 1:42 AM
5 comment from: Blogger The Krispy Dixie, Blogger don_veto, Blogger Karmyn R, Blogger christina/ohio, Blogger DannieS72,


Sunday, October 01, 2006

Papillona Sky: October Post.A.No.Secret.Tag



It’s the first of the month and time for Papillona Sky’s monthly Post. A. No. Secret. Tag.

Here’s the run down:
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 October.






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Posted by @ 4:24 AM
7 comment from: Blogger Papillona ®, Blogger Champ - Love Hound, Blogger Amani, Blogger Amani, Blogger Mia, Blogger The Krispy Dixie, Blogger Mia,