Mia: Shaken Not Stirred


The true life stories of a NYC female.

Monday, March 31, 2008

No more hashish for you, okay?


My phone rang it at 1:30 am it on the other end was my friend Guay laughing hysterically. Her sister Zash was tripping; she’d eaten hashish laced brownies and was panicking.

She’d never had hash before and didn’t know quite what to make of what she was feeling. The high for her was way different than what she was used to getting off of weed. Naturally knowing that I smoke hash on occasion with my cousin she decided to call me. I’ve never actually eaten the stuff before so I had no idea of what she was going through, whenever my cousin and I chill he either rolls it into a cigarette or puts it in the shisha but from the way Zash was going on it sounded like she’d gotten a hold of some potent stuff.

“Mia! My heart is beating so fast I feel like I can’t breathe, my chest hurts, I feel like I’m going to pass out!” “Calm yourself down Zash you’re making yourself freak out and you’re going to hyperventilate, take deep breaths. How much did you have?" I asked. She had no clue as to how much hash was in the brownies her cousin made but she’d eaten nearly ¾ of the pan by herself before handing over the rest to Guay. “You didn’t have anything else did you, like liquor?” “No just the hash brownies.” “Okay then Zash listen it’s pretty much the same as weed.In a few you’re going to get the giggles and the munchies.” “Mia I’m scared!” After some coaxing I managed to calm her down, in the background her sister Guay was cackling like a demented minion. “Let me talk to your sister.”

Guay took the phone still giggling like a maniac, “Guay how does she look?" I asked “She looks fine Mia. You know how she is all dramatic!” “Ask her if she wants to go to the hospital, I can meet you there.” “Na she says she’s fine now she’s just paranoid.” “Guay,how are you feeling?” “I’m nice, Miss Mc Greedy over here is probably bugging out ‘cause she ate almost an entire pan by herself. Yo Mia I’m going to call my cousin and ask her to make us some!” “Uh, yeah sure, like I’m going to eat something that makes my heart race. Hell no! Hello I have a heart murmur.”

I heard Zash in the background saying she was going to sleep “If I don’t wake up in the morning I love you Guay, tell Mia I love her too she’s like a sister to me. Tell the baby (Guay’s son)that his titi loved him very much!” At Zash’s dramatic declaration of love Guay burst out laughing again, “Zash damn calm yourself, nothing is going to happen.” “Guay I’m going to hang up now, go take care of Zash.” Zash snatched the phone from her sister’s hand, “Mia just in case I don’t wake up in the morning it means I’m dead.” Guay started laughing harder, “I Iove you." “I love you too Zash you’re going to be fine, go eat something light and relax. If you need me call me okay?” “Mia?” “Yea Zashi?” “Seriously I love you.” “Same here…Zash?” “Yeah Mia?” “No more hashish for you, okay?”

At that Guay started laughing even harder, "Yeah man no more for you we don't want you to wake up dead!" "Guay?" "Yeah Mia?" "Don't mock her high, don't mock her high."




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Friday, March 28, 2008

Peace Symbol


The peace symbol turned 50 years old earlier this month. According to a BBC News article on the peace symbol “It started life as the emblem of the British anti-nuclear movement but it has become an international sign for peace, and arguably the most widely used protest symbol in the world.”

And because my mother’s greatest influences while growing up in the 60’s were a group of student activists and hippies this symbol decorated everything I owned from clothing to toys. I swear to jelly beans I thought it was my own personal logo for the longest. Not too long ago I purchased a peace sign pendant, old habits and influences die hard my friends.

Not only was the peace symbol the focal point of my crib mobile but family legend has it that this song was sung to me every night by my grandma as a lullaby. I was listening to it as I wrote this and realized that the message of "Get Together" is still as relevant today as the day The Young Bloods first sang it in 1967. Come to think of it the message behind the peace symbol is still just as relevant as well.





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Wednesday, March 26, 2008

Yes Mia, He's a Pimp


I am constantly amazed by the people my family knows, they know all sorts of people from different walks of life both the average José and the famous. Yet I wasn’t even ready for what arrived in the mail last night.

My mother got an invitation to a baby shower…“So mom are you going to the baby shower?” I asked so I could mark the date in my planner knowing full well that if she was I was being dragged with her. “Oh hell no!” she replied “I’ve got no reason to be there.” “Why not?” “He’s a pimp.” “Wait…wait Delano…is a pimp?!” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Like in where’s my money bitch?” My mother nodded her head, “Big time.” “Are you serious?!” She nodded her head again. “The baby shower is being given by his stable of hoes for one of his pregnant hoe’s.” “He’s a pimp?!” “Damn shame too with a brain like his he would’ve made one hell of a businessman.” I still couldn’t believe it. “He’s a pimp?!” “Yes Mia he’s a pimp.” She sighed. WTF?!

Allow me to explain the pimp connection to my family.
My uncles met Delano when I was a kid while providing security for a rapper. I tend to bump into Delano really late at night or at the crack of dawn when I’m out partying. He’s friendly towards me not overly friendly if you get my drift just uncle approved friendly which basically means as long as he doesn't cross a certain line he gets to keep his good looks and his life. It works out well for him.

Until last night I had assumed Delano was in show business given the way he and my uncles met and sharp way he dresses; tasteful jewelry, Armani and Savile Row suits. Nothing off the rack for this man, what he pays for his shoes alone could probably cover a semester’s tuition for me. During the chillier months of the year I’ve seen him in the company of some beautiful women rocking full length fur coats. A man in a full length fur coat. DUH! Sometimes I am so damn clueless.

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Monday, March 24, 2008

I Have a Gas Hose In My Hand and I’m Sure My Mother Has a Lighter Somewhere In Her Purse


I don’t understand the reason behind non-New Yorkers bad mouthing New York.The minute they find out someone is from New York the verbal sludge flows. Actually the ones who tend to pop the most nonsense have never been here.

Recently a friend was planning a trip to New York and had the chutzpah to ask me if was safe.I didn’t know whether to be insulted or amused since he was basing his judgment on crappy B list movies and a couple of ancient shows that claimed to take place in New York but were actually filmed in Canada. “Dude,are you serious? You’re worried about your safety here?! For the love of god you come from a country where BOMBS are considered an acceptable form of political protest! Your country is like a Dr. Seuss book gone retarded!" "Bombs on the train...bombs in the rain...bombs in a box...bombs by the rocks! Bombs, bombs every where! Bombs on your chair...bombs under the stairs... bombs on the bus...bombs strapped to the bearded man’s nuts! Bombs in the car... bombs near and far! Bombs, bombs every where!” By the way he was not amused.


Then there's the Florida incident invloving my dad. My dad was pumping gas for his parents when another customer over heard him talking to the attendant. Picking up on my dad’s New York accent the man approached my father and asked if he was from New York, when my dad replied that he was the man just felt free to let it all hang out. “Whoa New York", he chuckled, "you wouldn’t catch me dead there! It’s so dirty, dangerous. The drugs! The people are so rude!”

Okay here’s the thing anyone who knows me is by now familiar with my mother’s razor sharp tongue. Seriously the woman can draw blood from her victims with just one sentence. My father is not like my mother. I repeat the man from whose loins I sprung forth is nothing like the woman who carried me in her womb for six months. My daddy is gentle, polite, and above all diplomatic. So naturally it came as a complete shock to everyone when he glared at the man and said, “Sir, we’re standing in the middle of a gas station. I have a gas hose in my hand and I’m sure my mother has a lighter somewhere in her purse. Do you really want to continue the anti-New York speech?”


Out in California my home girl Jackie gets a lot of attention with her New York accent. The other day she was on the phone and the woman realizing that Jackie was from New York felt the need to inform Jackie that New York was culturally bereft in comparison to Cali. California in her opinion which she stated as if it were an undisputable fact was the culture capital of the world. WTF?! Put the crack pipe down lady; stick the cork back in your bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon it’s time to get bitch slapped by reality.

Cali is THE movie making...plastic surgery...wannabe zen...hopping on the latest trend...superficiality as a lifestyle...people becoming famous for flashing their bare cooch... and starring in bad home made porn movies.. CAPITAL of the world. Pop culture capital sure no doubt own it, own it, strut it Cali that title is all yours baby wear that shit with pride putos. However culture capital as in museums,opera,and theatre uh uh I don’t think so.

There are 1300 museums spread out over the entire state of California but unless you’re from Cali or the surrounding area I doubt you can name one, meanwhile aliens on the dark side of the moon plotting anal probes of our species can name at least two of our museums. Please don’t think I’m disrespecting Cali, I’m just calling it like I see it. All I’m saying is that the female who dissed New York while on the phone with Jackie sure had a lot of nerve making her claim of cultural superiority when you consider they don’t even have a freaking Dunkin’ Donuts to ease my gentle giant’s cravings.



PS:Here’s a little something for those trash talkers straight from AOL, according to an article by Morgan Quitno Press entitled The 12 most Dangerous States the most dangerous state is Nevada. New York didn’t even make the list. The states that did make the list just happen to be the home states of friends who are always trashing New York in terms of safety... booooyah biotches!


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Sunday, March 23, 2008

One Semester of Spanish - Love Song


Remember your first semester of Spanish back in school? Well so does this guy and used it in a great way…. Enjoy!








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Thursday, March 20, 2008

Who the hell wants to make love to a skeleton?


I’m required to keep a journal detailing my internship experiences as part of my class work. I was going over my notes this morning reading out loud as I transferred them over into my laptop. "Patient is a single parent, alcoholic lesbian, working in a bar as lounge singer. Main complaint during session was over her lover female anorexic, weight 97 pounds, complaining about patient’s reluctance to make love to her."

My mother just happened to be walking by and over heard me, “Well of course she’s refusing to make love to her, who the hell wants to make love to a skeleton?” “Ma!” “Okay Mia I take that back skeletons need love too. Look at Jennifer Lopez she loves Marc Anthony’s skeletor looking ass.” “Ma!” “What, Mia what?!”

I shook my head at her and continued reading out loud. “All I’m saying Mia is that is heaven forbid the woman should lift her leg or something and snap a bone. That shit can be deadly getting impaled on a shattered bone, painful too.” “Ma!” “What, Mia what?!" "You’re going to hell woman, straight to hell." She rolled her eyes at me, “Ay please like you’re telling me something I don’t know at least when I go I’m going sexually satisfied.” “Ma!” “What, Mia what?!” she said arching her eyebrow at me before breaking into a grin.

All of sudden I felt a throbbing pain behind my right eye and placed my palm over my eye to soothe it. How my grandfather survived raising her is beyond me.

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Wednesday, March 19, 2008

A Long Way From Home


My best friend in the whole wide world Jackie aka the gentle giant (that’s her on the right) has started out her own blog, A Long Way From Home



A newlywed who abandoned me and headed out to California with her hubby her blog deals with her experiences out in Cali. She’s a funny giant and I love her like mad. Check her out; she’s funny and one of the few people on this planet that rival me and my mom in the mouth department.

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Me & My Shadow


We were assigned out internships and at first I wasn’t too happy with mine. I had hoped to intern closer to home either at our local high school or a juvenile detention center. Instead I was assigned to a mental health facility two hours away from my home.

It turned out that my assignment was coveted by my fellow class mates who unlike me actually have experience working in hospital settings. I didn’t see what the big ooh and ahh was about in terms of this particular placement. “Man how did you get that?!” seemed to be the popular refrain in class. Several days later I found out what the big whoop was. It seemed that unlike all of the other internships given out the school doesn’t pick it out for you, they pick you and it’s a very prestigious internship.




I got an early morning call from one of the directors in my school. “Congratulations Mia!” she gushed “You were personally hand picked for this! No one in the program had the qualifications or the personality they were looking for but you!” The woman seemed so happy for me I took her word that being chosen was an honor. Maybe the commute wouldn’t be too bad I thought two hours each way I’ll get a lot of reading done while traveling.

It seemed that a paper I wrote on why I had chosen to get a degree in social work coupled with my psych degree had been what gotten me the internship. Oh yeah and my sense of humor. I was following my mentor around yesterday sitting in on meetings and counseling sessions, “shadowing” it’s called. I was his shadow and for the life of me I couldn’t get “Me and My Shadow” out of my head. Then as if on cue my mentor starts singing the very same song…dude get outta my head!. I fought the urge to start tap dancing right then and there, I didn’t want to scare him. Instead I laughed and sang along with him. He turned to look at me kind of shocked, “You have a sense of humor and musical knowledge?!” I nodded my head, “You’re going to need both in this field! “ he said. For the rest of the day in between working and shadowing we traded quips and musical references.

At the end of my shift my mentor looked at me, “Mia we usually don’t do this…. but you’re going to need a year long internship in the fall. Would you be interested in working here? I’d love to keep you here.” I accepted and later on found out my mentor has a degree in fine arts had actually worked on Broadway, hence his love of old ass music. Who knew my so called wit and love of musical theatre and MGM musicals would actually do me some good?

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Thursday, March 13, 2008

Eh, What Do You Know About a Blow job?


A friend has been having marital problems; she’s unhappy and as a result hasn’t been having sex with her husband. Her husband well the man is clueless he doesn’t understand why she is unhappy all he wants is for her to touch his penis, caress it do something with it. He comes from a sexually inexperienced background and really knows nothing of his wife’s sexual background prior to hooking up with her. The woman was the poster child for promiscuity. If he’d known this I’m sure he wouldn’t have approached her with this question, “Eh what do you know about blow jobs?”


She and I were discussing his question when a guy over heard us, he wiggled his eyebrows at me and as he laughed said, “So Mia what do you know about blow jobs?” I looked at him from head to toe and smiled,“Nothing I’d be willing to share with you my man.” He laughed and then pouted at me, “ Aww man I am crushed! I’m so disappointed now!” “Yeah well life is full of disappointment dude, better you should learn this lesson now while you’re young and hung and not later on when you’re an old man dealing with erectile dysfunction.”

As my friend struggled to keep from laughing he shook his head and stared at me,"God damn,you're evil. You really know how to kill a dream." I arched an eyebrow at him and smiled, "What me evil? Na man sometimes a guy needs to know when to let go of an impossible dream."

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Tuesday, March 11, 2008

The Blindman & The Taser Gun



Sometimes life hands you the perfect adult diaper moment and you’ve just gotta thank God for being there to witness it…

It was the height of the early morning rush hour as the blind man with the cane attempted to make his way on the crowded platform. The tapping of his cane on the platform gave everyone ample warning and time to step back and let him through, everyone except a female with a major attitude problem.

The blind man’s cane touched her leg and she let loose a string of curses at him. She pushed his cane causing him to lose his balance and crash into her. That seemed to infuriate her more and she threatened to slap fire out of his ass. The man said nothing to her as he straightened himself up and regained his composure. She got in his face again despite her fellow passengers telling her to lay off the man. She slapped him and then gave him a slight shove; several passengers reached out and prevented him from falling. Still the woman wouldn’t lay off of him. As she continued her tirade the blind man reached into his back pocket and pulled something out. His hand landed quickly on her chest and he tasered her not once but twice. As she fell to the floor he slipped the taser gun back into his pocket and made his way onto the waiting train.

No one made an effort to stop him instead a wall of laughter and cries of “Oh shit, oh shit!” went up around the women as she laid on the platform twitching as a stream of urine ran down her pants leg. Good Lord I love this city!

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Saturday, March 08, 2008

If I’d had some Girl Scout cookies on me I’d made a killing on that bus


Due to genetics plus the fact that I’m not even five feet tall people have a tendency to think I’m a lot younger than I am. While I have always found it frustrating having to prove my age to the incredulous I recently discovered that this whole looking like a kid thing can actually work to my advantage…



It was a bone chilling, rainy day and as I watched the wind twist umbrellas into pieces of modern art from the bus window it dawned on me that my messenger bag felt awfully light. I had left my text book behind and damn it to hell I actually needed it for the class I was heading off to. I hopped off the bus at the next stop and walked back home wondering if I was suffering from some sort of dementia. Several days before I almost stepped out of my room without pants after suddenly remembering I had a message for my mother. It was only when I opened my door and felt the chill across my thighs did I look down and realized my pants were still on the bed. I’ve never been able to leave my house without having to turn back. It’s like a freaking curse not to mention it’s become the family joke. It’s always the same routine as I get ready to leave a list shouted out at me, “Mia don’t forget your… phone..wallet…ID…money...bank card…” Still I always leave something behind.

I ran into my house grabbed the text book from the dining room table and ran back out before the elevator even had a chance to leave my floor. Yes! Luck was on my side the bus was just pulling in as well when I reached the corner. When I slipped my metro card into the slot the driver told me I couldn’t board the bus with my card because it had just been used at this bus stop not more than 10 minutes ago. I explained to him that I’d forgotten my school book and had to get off the bus to get it. Still he refused to let me back on the bus unless I paid. I checked my pockets but I had no change, of course I’d left my change purse behind. “Do you have change for a five?” I asked, “No, he replied “get off the bus.”

I tried to convince him to let me on after all I do pay 70 plus bucks a month for my monthly unlimited metro card it’s a stupid rule that they have that you can’t swipe twice on a route within minutes if you ask me. Still he refused to let me on. Finally a lady noticed what was going on and started flipping on the driver, “Oh for the love of God it’s raining outside and she’s just a little girl! You can’t leave the little girl standing outside like that it’s not right! She’s just a little girl!” Several passengers took note of me in the doorway soaking wet and after getting an eye full of my best puppy dog eyes complete with little pout they took up my cause as well. In a matter of seconds the bus was filled with the chants of “She’s just a little girl! Let her on the bus!” The bus driver now felt like the bad guy, “Get on the fuckin’ bus kid, before they turn on me.” He grumbled.

If I’d had some Girl Scout cookies on me I’d made a killing on that bus.






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Wednesday, March 05, 2008

Let it go to voice mail I’ll check it when I’m good and ready


I responded to a my friend's text message the other day and quickly realized that she was not the one texting me instead it was a guy she'd recently started seeing.

Unfortunately the guy doesn’t know me and no one warned him about my sarcasm. Rumor has it he’s afraid to meet me now.

G’s Phone: Hey Pedro said if u and Josh wanna come bowling manana
who the hell is Pedro? I searched my brain for the answer and then remembered Guay mentioning him.

Mia: I can’t this weekend mid-terms start Monday. I’ve got some studying to do and I’m tutoring again. We can all do something next weekend, that would be cool okay?

G’s Phone: Ok sooo we can do something next time sugar tits lol. Sounds keen lol:-D

Keen? WTF? she never says keen. Sugar tits yes. Keen no. Obviously who ever it is has heard Guay call me sugar tits and think it’s cool for them to do so as well. Obviously they’d missed the memo on who’s allowed to call me sugar tits.

Mia: Who is this?

G’s Phone: Guay

Mia: Uh no it isn’t. Identify yourself.

G’s Phone: This is Guay lol :-)

Mia: and I’m the good witch Glenda. Look I know it’s not Guay. Guay would stab herself in the eye with a hot fork before she ever used the word “keen”. Who is this?

G’s Phone: It’s Pedro

Mia: Where’s G?

G’s Phone: Watching TV

Mia: Okay and why do YOU have her phone?

unlike me Guay has a lot of crap to hide and this guy hanging onto her phone could only create drama for her with her baby’s daddy or one of the other guys she’s messing with. Yeah my girl is a player with a tight game and she’s never been busted but this jack ass holding onto her phone is not a good omen. Plus I know the female she doesn’t relinquish control of her phone like that to anyone unless she’s getting sloppy now.

A few more text messages were exchanged and it became obvious to me the guy wasn’t giving up the phone. I ended the flurry of messages by informing him that I’d call Guay later on. A few minutes later Guay called and explained that the guy had been installing some ring tones for her. “Yeah so why the hell is he text messaging me acting like he’s you?” “I don’t know.” “Tell him to chill with that, that’s not cute.” “Oh yeah and what’s the deal with him calling me sugar tits?” “What?!” “He called me sugar tits. Tell your boy to calm himself before I end up punching him in the face Guay. You and me cool, you and me we do sugar tits. Me and him no cool, me and him we no do sugar tits. Let him know the deal. ” “I’ll handle it Mia.”

The next day I texted Guay about some books and once again Pedro responded. Now he was getting to be annoying. I felt something shift inside of me oh oh smart ass Mia was taking control of my phone…


Mia: Oh I'm sorry did I text you? I swore the phone I texted was Guay’s. My bad.


G’s Phone: Diz is her phone :-)

common sense should have told the bastard to hand over the phone to Guay but common sense seemed to be in short supply on this day.


Mia: Oh I’m sorry Pedro. I keep texting Guay and YOU keep replying. Obviously something must be wrong with my phone b/c I keep getting you instead.

G’s Phone: No diz is her phone lmao :-D

dude those little smiley faces are not serving to placate me, on the contrary they are irking me.


Mia: Oh ok so I guess her SIM card must be in your phone cause you keep replying. Silly me for not realizing that silly, silly me.


G’s Phone: No its her phone lmao :-D



Mia: Uh huh I see Guay hired a secretary to dictate her thoughts to tell her I’ll call her later. By the way what time do you take lunch? I’ll be sure to call while you’re on your break.


A few minutes later I get a message…

G’s Phone: Yo sugartits!

so help me God that better be Guay b/c if he’s using it I will hop in a cab to Guay’s house right now and kick him in the nuts. It turned out it was Guay and he had her phone b/c once again he was installing some new ring tones. “Yo Guay you know if he’d stop text messaging me he’d get it done much sooner.”



Like I said my life is an open book, nothing to hide here. How ever my privacy is to be respected. The only way a male would ever be allowed to answer my phone is if I had a bullet wound and were unable to lift my arm to answer the phone myself and the ring tone tells me it’s my mama. Other than that don’t touch my phone fool, let it go to voice mail I’ll check it when I’m good and ready.





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