Mia: Shaken Not Stirred


The true life stories of a NYC female.

Wednesday, December 31, 2008

My New Year Wishes For You


I was star gazing earlier tonight thinking about a funny incident I wanted to write about when my favorite pink scarf, a gift from Darla caught my eye and it made me think of you.


As I type this I’m stealing glances at the sky from my window. The stars are out and I’ve made quite a few wishes on them for you, my last wishes of 2008. I wished that your days be filled with good health, laughter and music and your nights with love. I wished your work days be easy and your weekends filled with fun. For those who desire it I wished for healthy babies to fill your arms.

This blog started out as a way for me to fight off writer’s block. I never imagined the people outside of my crew of friends would actually want to read what I had to say. I’ve been at this for a few years now and it occurred to me that I have never thanked you for being a part of my life for the award nominations, the comments, and the words of encouragement, the birthday wishes, and the gifts. I was truly born under a lucky star and you are proof of that. Thank you.

May your dreams come true during the New Year. May you always know happiness and peace. These are my New Year wishes for you.

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Tuesday, December 30, 2008

Peek-a-Boo



We spotted my friend’s boyfriend sitting at the window table of a restaurant making kissy faces with another woman. “It’s probably a guy that looks like him” my friend said. I nodded my head in agreement and frantically waved my hand for a taxi. My other friend, the bitter divorcee walked right up to the window stared and came back to where we were standing. “It’s him.” She reported. shut up, shut up, she knows it’s him she just doesn’t want us to know it’s him. I’m okay with playing ignorant…let’s keep it moving.


I looked up at my friend and saw the look on her face. I tried to pull her away but she refused to budge. “Do you want to go in and confront him?” I asked. “Mia, do something!” the bitter divorcee demanded of me. I looked back at the window and then at my friend. “What do you want to do?” I asked. “What would you do if it were you?” she asked. “I’d go in say hello, walk out the door and never talk to him again.” She smiled at me, “No you wouldn’t. You’d punch him in the face wouldn’t you?” “No, I wouldn’t. He's not worth me breaking a nail.” “Come on let’s go in!” said the bitter divorcee. I had a feeling that the bitter divorcee's outrage had more to do with her own marriage than my friend's situation. Since the girlfriend made no move towards the restaurant I continued my quest for a cab.

After several minutes a cab stopped in front of us. I asked him to give us a minute before we got in since the girl friend was hesitatant about leaving. After several seconds of discussing how i'd handle it versuses bitter divorcee's Lorena Bobbit plan the girlfriend begged me to handle it. "It's better if you do it. I don't involve myself in lover's drama." I told her. "Please Mia?" she pleaded. “You sure?” I asked. My friend nodded her head while the bitter divorcee started removing her earrings. I figured I'd better handle it before the girlfriend turned to bitter divorcee and her plan. I rolled my eyes at bitter divorcee as I dialed the cheating bastard’s number.

He answered on the third ring undoubtedly curious as to why I’d be calling him. “Hey Mia, what’s up?” “Peek-a-boo I see you and so does your girlfriend you shmuck.” “What?” “Look out the window.” I said before hanging up. He turned his face towards the window and stared at us. I smiled at him and waved while bitter divorcee flipped him the bird, and his girlfriend glared in his direction. The look of shock on his face was priceless as we got into the cab and drove off. Her phone started ringing immediately,it wasn't what she thought he said. I'd like to say that she'd tossed the phone he'd gotten her out the taxi window and ended the relationship but she didn't. Everyone has their own way of handling things.



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Monday, December 29, 2008

Here's Josh

I’ve written about him crushing my toes on the dance floor, about me threatening his life when he interrupts my studying, his desire for me to marry him and start a family, his willingness to relocate to Europe with me when I’ve completed my grad studies, his romantic gestures, and of course I’ve written about the pranks I love playing on him. Until today Josh has been "heard" but never seen on my blog.



Once upon a time when my studies weren't taking up 90% of my free time I roamed NYC camera in hand snapping away. My hobby is photography,I studied it for about 5 years and until recently I worked as a professional photographer. After getting a look at my portfolio Josh has been encouraging me to get back behind my camera. I'm sure he thinks if I'm behind the camera that'll give me less free time to play pranks on him. Ha! As if. Unfortunately my 35mm Canon (my favorite camera) needed to be replaced and the cost of my education was not allowing me to splurge on a new camera. My cousin Mahmoud had gotten me a Sony Cybershot digital camera last Christmas and although I love it and it's a great camera there's only so much I can do with it. For months now I've been drooling over a Sony DSLR 300 camera.


On my birthday Josh handed me a brightly wrapped package and stood back to watch my reaction. He got me the Sony DSLR 300 camera I’d been lusting after, an additional lens and the promise of more lenses to follow. When I unwrapped my gift he smiled and said that the look on my face was well worth the money he’d spent and made me promise I’d start taking pictures again. It was only fitting that the first photos I took with my new camera were of him. Of course he wouldn’t cooperate so I snuck up on him and did a paparazzi move on him. I’ve made it sound easier than it was I had to make sure he was sitting first, it’s kind of hard for a 4ft 11 chick to sneak a face shot of a 6ft tall guy. Here's Josh...








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Saturday, December 27, 2008

The Shoes, The Make-up, and The Bulbous Nose


I leaned against the lamp post on cooper street and held my hand up towards Tiffany I was laughing so hard my stomach was hurting. “Come on Mia it’s not that funny!” Tiffany said. “Yes it is!” I managed to hiss.

Sometimes my friends feel the need to share with me, sometimes it’s just a little TMI and I’ll cringe but this was the first time a TMI revelation had caused me one huge laughing fit. Maybe if Tiffany hadn’t looked so serious when she’d told me I wouldn’t have laughed. Na, I still would’ve laughed I’m shameless that way. I didn’t understand why she was so amazed by my laughter and comments. She should’ve known I’d laugh, she should have known I’d crack jokes and believe me I did crack jokes. I couldn’t help it, I had to get it out of my system. It took me a bit but eventually I managed to regain my composure. I wiped my tears away with the back of my hand as we started walking again.



Tiffany the significant other of a muy macho, tattoo loving, hot rocker, sex on a stick type guy had just revealed one of her darling’s sexual fantasies to me, which was why we were in search of a costume shop. Having the friends that I have nothing should surprise me. I roll with a fairly twisted bunch of people.

Her boyfriend's sexual fantasy was original I had to admit. He wanted make love to her while she was dressed as a clown. He wanted the whole package, the shoes, the make-up, and the bulbous nose. She was aware of he was into clowns but never expected him to actually want to be in a clown. It was kind of hard not to notice his love of clowns his ink was proof. His body was covered with all sorts of clown tattoos. Much like the ink on my body reflects my love of fairies. Except my fantasies don't involve bumbing uglies with Tinkerbelle.

I actually managed to make it 2 blocks before I said, "Does he have any Bozo The Clown posters up in his room?" "Mia." We walked another block before I gave in to temptation “He must walk around with a raging hard on whenever the circus comes to town.” “Shut up Mia, don’t start up again.”



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Friday, December 26, 2008

Where's The Toilet?



The sun and I were still asleep when my phone rang.

“Mmmhello ?” I croaked into the phone.


“I forgot how sexy your voice sounds first thing in the morning.”

“I don’t take obscene phone calls this early. Please hang up and leave your heavy breathing at the sound of the beep.”

The caller laughed a deep rumbling laugh. I’d know that laugh anywhere besides only one person I know of would dare call me so early... I smiled and snuggled deeper into my pillows. This was an international call I wouldn’t be long on the phone with my friend so there was no need to open my eyes.

"Lá breithe shona duit m'aingeal”

“Que? (what)” I asked.

"Lá breithe shona duit m'aingeal."he repeated as if saying it again would enable me to understand.

“Gesundheit. That sounds serious you may want to take some medicine for that. ”

“It means happy birthday my angel in gaelic.”

“ Ohhh, gracias...that’s thank you in Spanish.”

“Did I wake you?”

“Yes."

“Good, I wanted to be the first to wish you happy birthday.”

“Mission accomplished. Merry Christmas, did Santa bring you everything you wanted this year?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No, a certain woman is still in New York and not here with me.”

“I hope Santa leaves her a lump of coal in her stocking.”

“Have you checked your Christmas stocking for any coal my love?”

“Ha-Ha, you are so funny.” I said with a dash of sarcasm.

“I’m going to let you get back to sleep now. I’ll talk to you tonight after your birthday party and you can tell me what Santa and the birthday elf left for you.”

“Okay”

“Hey”

“Yes?”

“Gráím thú…I love you”

“Cá bfhuil an leithreas ”

He laughed so loud I had to hold the phone away from my ear.

“Where’s the toilet?”

“It’s the only Gaelic I know.” I replied.






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Wednesday, December 24, 2008

My Father's Words


I truly love Christmas, I’m certain that even if it wasn’t the date of my birth I’d still feel the same. I trace it back to my childhood because I was encouraged to believe in all that was magical well beyond the years when other children had stopped.


Christmas is truly a magical season despite the worries of everyday life. People are gentler and kinder what other holiday can make that boast? As I stood on line to pay for my purchases hummed “Santa Claus is coming to town” the cashier smiled at me as I handed her my debit card. A little boy standing on line beside me looked up at me and I winked at him. I continued to sing and he blushed trying to hide his smile behind his mittens. Finally he lowered his hands and began to sing along with me in that magical voice kids have. You know the voice it tugs at the heart of even the most jaded adult.

As I headed for the exit the usually gruff security guard beamed at me from high atop his ladder. He wore a silly Santa hat perched on top of his head and had a fake Santa beard glued to his chin, “Merry Christmas.” he said in his thick Jamaican accent, “I hope you’ll like what I’m leaving under your tree.” “I’m sure I will love it Santa and a Merry Christmas to you too!” I replied.

I walked towards to my car past a group of holiday shoppers and they smiled at me when we made eye contact, “Merry Christmas!” they called out as we passed each other. I put my bags in the trunk and observed a meter maid actually smiling at people and gently reminding them to move their double parked cars instead of reaching for her summons book. As I opened my car door one of the street vendors turned on his CD player and strains of “Oh, Holy Night” filled the night air. I decided to wait for my father out side instead of sitting in the car. The music inspired me to look up into the sky.

The night was so clear I was able to count the stars. I took a deep breath always a risky thing in the city and sampled the air. It smelled crisp, fresh, and clean. It had snowed a few days earlier adding to the joy of the season. The air seemed to shimmer, a by product of happy auras enveloping the world this time of year I thought. A man walked by holding his little girl’s hand; he stopped in front of the vendor to get her a scarf. As he wrapped it around her she asked “Is Santa really coming tonight daddy?” He nodded his head and she jumped up and squealed making everyone around her laugh.

My father walked up to me, smiling at the sight of the little girl. “Santa will be heading out soon little one” he said to me. I smiled at him, “Is there anything special you’re hoping he’ll bring you this year pa?” I asked. He stared at me and smiled “Nothing he can leave me now will ever compare to the gift he left me when I was 21. That really was the greatest gift ever. Nothing will ever top that Christmas gift.”

I wondered what could have possibly been that great of a gift that it couldn’t be topped. “What was the gift pa?” “Fatherhood” he replied. “Huh?” He reached over and gently tweaked my nose, “You were the gift little one. We weren’t expecting you for another three months but you were so impatient that you snuck into Santa’s toy bag and there you were on Christmas morning. No Christmas gif has ever been better than that.”

I’m certain that years from now when the time comes and my own child asks me what was the greatest gift I ever got for Christmas I can honestly say it was my father’s words. Merry Christmas.





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Friday, December 19, 2008

Deity Will Do Just Fine


Monday :

She: Are you coming to Thursday’s class?

Me: Yes

Tuesday:

She: Are you coming in on Thursday?

Me: Yes


Wednesday :

She: Hey you, are you coming in tomorrow?

Me: Yes

Thursday :

She: Are you coming in tonight?

Me: Na, I found out I don’t have to since I presented my paper last week.

She: Please come in.

Me: But the professor said I don’t have to.

She: Mia pleaseeee

Me: Why are you so anxious for me to come in?

She: PLEASE!

Me: Why should I make the 2 hour ride to school if I don’t have to?

She: I’ve got to present my paper and I need you for moral support. I won’t get nervous if I present the paper while I’m looking at you.

Me: Print out a picture of me and attach it to your report.


She: Liz is going to be there.

Me: Oh.

Liz is the resident know it all. Whenever one of the students presents a paper Liz heckles them. I swear the professor must give Liz points every time she manages to fluster a student.

She: Mia you divine goddess, please, please, with sugar on top?

Me: Divine goddess?

She: Yes.

Me: Major or minor?

She: Major of course! Huge, major goddess.

Me: What are my powers?

She: Only you divine goddess have the power to hold me back from smacking her in the mouth if she acts up.

Me: Meh. That’s it? Obviously we have differing ideas on what major powers are. The ability to conjure up fat free southern fried chicken and fat free Lady Godiva’s now that’s major power. Stopping you from popping a wannabe brainiac in the mouth is not a major power.

She: You’ve never seen me when I get angry.

Me: True that.

She: Are you coming to class tonight?

Me: Depends, is there beer attached to this gig? Because you know goddesses need tribute and nothing says worship more than the tribute of booze, spicy Buffalo wings, and song.

She: Yeah a beer tribute will be offered. We can go to the pub after class.

Me: Na, it’s cool I forgot we’re going out pubbing tomorrow night. I can only inflict but so much damage to my liver just before my birthday.

She: Okay then your Guinness is on me tomorrow night.

Me: Hmmm.

She: So is that a yes are you coming to class tonight?

Me: Fine, I’ll be there.

She: You’ve got to sit up in the front. I want to look at your face and focus on you.

Me: You scare me seriously you really do. Besides I hate sitting in the front. The professor always wants to get all chatty with me.

She: Liz sits in front and I want you next to her.

Me: Okay.

She: All hail Mia the goddess!

Me: Simmer down there she hulk.

She: As you wish goddess.

Me: Pft. Please there’s no need to use my formal title. Deity will do just fine.







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Thursday, December 18, 2008

The Best Part of Waking Up


Sometimes the best part of waking up isn’t the Folgers’s in your cup. Sometimes it’s your hard of hearing neighbor. It was early morning when I zombie walked my way into the dining room in search of coffee.

I was startled by the tiny elderly lady sitting at our table. I’m sure I’d startled her too but she was too polite to mention my appearance, my mother was not. I’d fallen asleep the night before while my hair was still damp from the shower. Nilda’s eyes swept over the origami like sculpture my ‘fro of curls had formed while I slept. My mother looked up and winced, “Jesus Mia run a brush or a pitch fork through that thing. You look like an escaped mental patient.” She said. “Good morning Mia!” Nilda chirped. No one should be that cheerful that early in the early morning. I mumbled my greetings at Nilda, flipped my mom the bird and headed straight for the carafe of coffee on the table.

The television was on to the local morning news so I decided to join the ladies at the table while I drank my coffee and waited for the weather report. I didn’t have long to wait. Mike Woods, the weather guy was half way through the forecast when Nilda let out a gasp.

“Ay Dios mio did you hear that? What a racist thing to say! ” Nilda was incensed. “How could that Moreno (black man) say something like that?!”

“Huh?” I mumbled, I wasn’t fully awake yet.

“Didn't you hear what he said?” she asked.

“Huh?” I repeated for those who’d failed to hear me the first time. I had no idea what she was talking about…I wasn’t alone neither did my mother.

“Nilda, what are you talking about?” mom asked.

“That Moreno he said to watch out for the black guys! That’s not a nice thing to say.”

“Huh?” yeah it was me again.

"Oh!” my mother said before she started giggling, “Nilda, he didn’t say watch out for the black guys…he said watch out for the BLACK ICE, the roads are slippery!”

I nearly choked on my coffee. I was awake now.




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Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Be Strong


I arrived with only minutes to spare to go over her defense. Still I was confident, we’d been going over the case for weeks and we’d gone over the argument the previous evening. I glanced into the waiting area and noticed that with the exception of Psycho Chick’s mother and social worker friend the room was conspicuously empty of her supporters. The ones that had promised to be there. I looked up at the clock. Guess we’re on our own. They should’ve all been here by now.


I took a deep breath and guided Psycho Chick into the hearing room. “Remember don’t bring up your anxiety disorder. That’s not relevant to these charges, besides your seeing a therapist and taking medication.” I stage whispered as we made our way to our seats. She smiled at me and nodded. “You sound just like a lawyer.” “ I was a law major once.” I replied

She did it,Psycho Chick finally managed to piss off the ruling powers at the school yet again. Last semester they’d politely requested that she leave the program a request that she declined. This semester there was no such request. Instead she was informed that she was being brought up on charges of unethical behavior and a hearing was being held to decide her fate. They wanted her gone.

My grandfather has always told me that first impressions are everything. Psycho Chick brought the truth of his statement home for me. She’d made a really crappy first impression on the professors during our first semester. Hell she’d pretty much done the same with all of the students. But I’d seen something in her, a glimmer that her tough bitch attitude was just a front. I took the time to get to know her and pulled her to the side and told her she needed to give the façade a rest. She wasn’t fooling me and she was harming herself in the long run. She took my advice but by that time it was too late, she’d been labeled.

I saw the writing on the wall when Psycho’s internship supervisor called her into her office and lectured Psycho Chick on the white privilege theory. The reason she'd brought up the theory to Psycho Chick the supervisor explained was that Psycho Chick’s reputation had preceded her. The supervisor felt that Psycho Chick’s anger was rooted in this theory. Without knowing anything about Psycho Chick’s background the white supervisor lectured psycho on how she could to a level empathize with Psycho Chick on how hard it was to grow up poor and to come from an uneducated family.The supervisor claimed that as a person with a great amount of empathy for the underpriviledged she could imagine Psycho’s anger. Funny how the supervisor’s empathy neglected to warn her that she was being offensive.

Psycho Chick called me crying afterwards, “Well,what did you tell her?” I asked. “I was too shocked. I couldn’t say anything. What would you’ve done?” “I would’ve told her I was invoking spic privilege and made her swallow a couple of teeth.” I replied. “Oh my God Mia! What the hell is spic privilege anyway?” “That’s the God given right every Hispanic has to punch an idiot in the mouth when they talk shit, especially when it’s offensive shit.” I warned her to watch her back and suggested that she talk our academic advisor and give her a heads up to what was going on. Psycho Chick was afraid to make waves so she said nothing. When the supervisor set her up to take a fall no one was there to watch Psycho Chick’s back.

When the news first hit the campus several of students offered to speak on Psycho’s behalf at the hearing. When it was inferred that to do so could jeopardize our own academic careers the students rescinded their offers and instead offered to attend the hearing in a show of support. “Hey Psycho Chick, when’s the hearing again? I want to let my internship know in advance I’m not coming in.” I asked. “You’re still going to speak on my behalf?” “Yup.”

Several days later she asked if I’d serve as her student advocate at the hearing. I quickly agreed but then she seemed to have second thoughts. She’d remembered what had been hinted at about jeopardy through association. She was worried about me. “Mia, are you sure you want to do this?” she asked. I shrugged my shoulders “Fluck it. What can they do to me, kill me? Besides if I get kicked out I’ll take my credits and go play somewhere else. ”

The day had arrived. Psycho Chick and I stood in front of the four people in charge of deciding her fate. One of the professors smiled at me. I’d been one of her favorites last semester. Just last week she’d come into my class and had been singing my praises to my research professor but I knew she had no love for Psycho Chick. Every time Psycho Chick and I had partnered up in her class the professor had hovered nearby and would ask if I was okay as if she feared for my safety. The other three, among them the director of the program, looked surprised to see me there. It's a well known fact that I hate public speaking and I'm shy.


Psycho Chick took her seat behind the table and I began my defense with a statement that made them all laugh. “Psycho Chick does not necessarily make the best of impressions when you first meet her. I know this because I was put off of by her when I first met her. She comes across as tough, uncaring, arrogant, and rude.” I waited for the laugher to die down and continued, “However what people don’t realize is that the image she projects is a front. That’s not who Psycho Chick truly is, she has a hard time letting her guard down only because she doesn’t want to be perceived as weak, which all is part of her insecurities. I find it amazing that you our teachers failed to pick up on this."

The director of the program leaned forward in her chair focusing on me listening intently to what I was saying.The woman is a legend in her field, psych majors, and social work students all over the world cite her studies. Another one who happens to like me but isn't fond of Psycho Chick, she was the one who asked Psycho Chick to leave last year.

Holy Monkey, this is so bad.

She nodded and urged me to go on… “This semester has seen a change in Psycho Chick. There is a maturity and confidence that wasn’t there last year. Those of us who’ve spent time with her, her new professors and fellow students have noticed the change in her. We can attest that the change is viable…”

I continued my defense and noticed several of the professors smiling at me. Most of them had never even heard the sound of my voice for more than a minute. Hearing me talk for so long was new to them. I hoped that it would work in Psycho's favor. I finished my statement, thanked them for their time and took a seat. It was Psycho's turn to speak. They went to town on her ass and she started to cry. Every attack launched at her was personal. It had to do with their perceived failings of her as a person. No one attacked her work (clients love her) or her academics (4.0 GPA) it was all about her as a person. As I watched her struggling to keep her composure I dug my nails into the palm of my hand to keep myself from losing my temper. It was unfair; she was being attacked for things that had happened last semester.

One of the professors was confrontational, his tone belligerent... I realized what he was trying to do. I’d read the school report, their notes on how Psycho Chick couldn’t deal with confrontation. He was trying to get her to lose her cool, to prove his point about her. “Sir, sir, may I please speak?” I tried to defuse the situation. The director granted me permission to speak. “The time to deal with what happened last semester was last semester. In fact the time for this hearing was last semester not now, not when she’s a semester away from graduating.” I said over Psycho Chick’s sobbing. The belligerent professor attempted to intimidate me. He raised his voice at me. I stared him down and continued, “You will let me speak sir! You will give me the same respect me I have shown you and you will allow me to do what I came here for. You’re all ganging up on her. You’re taking this to a personal level!”

I wasthisclose to reenacting Al Pacino’s famous “You’re out of order” scene from And Justice For All.

The professor sat back in his chair and gestured for me to speak with his hand.
oh man you are so lucky I don’t flash one of my own hand gestures.

“As social work students we’re been taught to check our biases at the door, to tune into our clients. I find it hypocritical that this school does not practice what it preaches. Which one of you has thought to tune into Psycho Chick? Which one of you has thought to show her compassion? People deserve second chances, even third chances. People are capable of change, she has changed and she deserves a chance to show it. Nothing is written in stone, we are well aware of your decision in regards to her. I ask that you show her a measure of the compassion you demand we reserve for our patients. Give her another chance let her start over with a clean slate. She’s found her own placement without any help from you. They are fully aware of her past history and issues and still want her. If they can extend their hand and let her start over why can’t you?”

At first I thought it was just me but afterwards I found out from those present that they’d felt it too. There was a sense of optimism in the room. Psycho Chick stood up, she was calm now and ready to speak. I gave her the floor and then all hell broke loose. She began to speak about her anxiety disorder and the mood in the room shifted again. She’d given her detractors the ammunition they’d needed.

I froze in my spot even though I wanted to across the room and clamp my hand over Psycho Chick’s mouth. I attempted to will Psycho Chick to look my way but I guess that stuff only works in movies and paranormal fiction. No matter how hard I tried she didn’t look my way.

shut up shut up! Let them walk to the store to buy the rope to hang you with don’t freaking just hand it to them!

I looked over towards Psycho Chick’s social worker friend, she shook her head at me. Obviously she felt the same way I did. We stared at each other. I could tell we both felt it at the same time. Optimism had snuck out of the room during Psycho Chick’s speech.

Her revelation about her anxiety disorder had been the nail in the coffin. She was given a choice, switch her major and some of her credits would transfer or take a semester off to work on herself and prove to them she had changed and maybe they’d let her back into the program. Either way it was the end. No school would allow her into their social work program now with her record and everyone there knew they had no intention of taking her back. How do you prove you’ve changed unless you’re giving a chance to prove it in the first place?

After the decision was read Psycho Chick collapsed in her chair. They’d succeeded, they’d broken her. Her sobs filled the room. The panel paused as they gathered their things to leave and stared at her. I couldn’t look at them instead I put my arms around her and pulled her up to her feet. As I lead her to the door I whispered in her ear. “Don’t you dare give them the satisfaction of seeing you break down. Hold your head up. Be strong.” I think in part I was saying it for myself as well.




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Saturday, December 13, 2008

Dear Santa



Dear Santa,
Hi, it’s Mia remember me? I’m the one that left you the Sicilian slice with pepperoni, and cold Corona next to the macadamia nut cookies my cousin baked for you last Christmas. Thank you so very much for the gifts last year. I loved each and every one of them.


This year I’m writing to request something for my friend you know who I’m writing about, she’s the one with that little spawn of Lucifer dog that if true to her nature has attempted to take a chunk out you as well. The dog has issues Santa, major issues. I’m pretty sure it’s due to those antlers she makes it wear on Christmas Eve, things like that on a tiny dog only serve to remind it of its’ inadequacies in the doggie world. Still I don’t know about you but hand to Rudolph’s shiny nose if the little bugger tries to bite me again it is so on.

My friend is an attractive, sweet 28 year old girl who has led a sheltered life. She's never had a boyfriend, never been kissed, and has never been on a date. We've all tried hooking her up with guys but her shyness prevents it from going beyond the intro. Santa, all she needs is that one special guy to look beyond her shyness. As a result of her loneliness she lavishes all her attention on her dog. The other day she went clear across town in crappy weather to the local Petco to have her little demondog’s picture taken with an anorexic looking pimply faced teenaged Santa. The $ 5.00 Polaroid wasn’t even for a Christmas card it was just a keepsake.

Several of us were standing outside our classroom talking during a break she sent the picture she’d just had taken to my phone. It wasn’t a flattering picture to either the dog or the Santa. Because it was so cheesy looking I found myself chuckling at the picture. My friends asked what I was laughing about and I turned my phone towards them so they could see the photo and because they know Monica from school I told them who it was from. The two girls shook their head in dismay and then in unison said, “She really needs to get laid.” The sad part was that as they were saying it I was actually thinking it. One of my male classmates who’d just walked over had caught our conversation stared over my shoulder at the picture. He put his hands on my shoulder and said, “Yeah she really does. Maybe you should write a letter to Santa for her.”

So Santa there you have it that’s my request and the story behind it. I’m not saying you have to stick a gift wrapped guy under her tree on Christmas Eve but do you think you can have a word with the head of The New Year’s Eve wishes department and hook a sister up for 2009?

Love,
Mia






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Thursday, December 11, 2008

Clothing To Raise a Droopy Butt


Someone recently visited this blog in search of a tip for “clothing to raise a droopy butt”. Funny thing is I actually have personal knowledge in this area. Go figure.

A certain relative of mines had a gastric by pass a few years ago. Between you and me she didn’t need to go that route. At 5 ft 10 she was curvy and voluptuous she had a fantastic figure. I would’ve eaten a bowl full of worms for a body like hers. However she had some self-esteem issues related to her body. She found a doctor willing to do the surgery and wham bam there went her slamming body but she’s happy with her body now so in the end (no pun intended) it worked out for her. The only drawback to the surgery was that her once firm butt became a thing of the past. In an effort to give her rear a much needed boost she started experimenting with different types of underwear and clothing. She says that the brand “Love Pats” panties gives a much needed boost. These days however you have to hunt the brand down but I’m assured that wearing spandex /lycra biker shorts under your clothing also gives a boost as well.

I don’t know how comfortable that is but look the butt is a muscle right? Yeah it is so if you want to fix a droopy butt the best solution would be to exercise it. Here’s a tip from me to you. I’ll tell you what helps me keep the butt firm. Music, specifically Jim Carrey’s version of “Cuban Pete”, hit the music and flex your butt in time to the music. After a little practice you’ll be able to flex each individual cheek in time to the music. It’s also great entertainment. My mom and Aunt Nora are constantly begging me to in their words “Cuban Pete” for them.


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Posted by @ 8:40 AM
3 comment from: Blogger christina/ohio, Anonymous frum, Blogger Mia,


Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Scared Crapless But Feeling Good


I hate public speaking, my stomach knots up and hand to God my IQ drops by at least 20 points. Last night I had to present my research paper, this would be the same paper my professor thought I'd purchased last week when I handed it in to him. I knew I had something to prove last night and even though I'd done nothing wrong I was scared crapless and yet felt good about having the opportunity to prove myself. I'm twisted like that.

Even though he’d backed off after discussing the paper with me I felt that he wasn’t really 100% sure that the paper I’d given him had been written by me. I had this feeling deep in my gut that he was expecting me to trip up and prove his suspicions about me. I went in with prepared notes but in the end I was just too nervous to look at them. Instead I spoke off the top of my head.

My topic was on the stigmatization of mental illness in women of a specific religious community and the reasons behind the reluctance of the afflicted individuals and their families to seek outside help.I stood in front of the class and prsented my paper, explained my research methods, my data, and why the subject was important to me all the while the professor stared me down. He seemed to be reading from something and every now and then he’d write something down. It felt as if he were giving me an on the spot review. I was the only student he did this for. I decided to focus on him as I spoke. I did this for several reasons one because he’d been the one to doubt my work and I was still pissed off about that and secondly because …well because I wanted him to understand that I wasn’t afraid of him that he wasn’t going to intimidate me into doubting myself. As I got into the paper I noticed that the professor’s facial expressions changed. He went from grim to interested pretty quickly and seemed impressed by my knowledge of the subject and how I’d used my ties to the community I was writing about to facilitate my research.

The presentation went really well better than I expected. The students were really interested in the subject and kept me up at the podium longer than they had anyone else asking me questions and discussing my paper. I saw the look of surprise on his face when I explained in response to a question that I’d become interested in the subject as a result of my travels. When I stepped off the podium the students startled me by breaking out into spontaneous applause. okay they really liked the paper. When I reached my seat my friend leaned over and asked how I felt, “I was scared crapless.” I said. “You’d never know it, you looked confident and in control up there.” “Get out, I did?” “Yes” she said. “Did you know your voice changes?” she asked. “Huh?” “Yeah it gets deeper and you sound all professional and scholarly.” When the next student approached the podium I noticed the professor was still looking at me. He bowed his head and smiled at me. I think I’d surprised him and whatever doubt he held about me was dispelled.


I started humming "Feeling Good" by The Muse as I got my stuff together to leave. It took an enormous amount of self-control to stop myself from doing a sultry victory dance as I left the class room.


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Friday, December 05, 2008

Chatting Near The Film Set



One of my fellow interns and I were walking past a film set on our way to our internship when she decided to stop and light a cigarette. On the third try she managed to win the battle she’d been waging against the wind and got her cigarette lit. She was one happy intern.


One of the guys from the film set walked over and stood next to me as the intern took her first drag. She looked up at him appreciating the view. I was concentrating on the film set and thinking of my friend Tanya she would so love this. He stuck his hands in the pockets of his wool pea coat and rocked back and forth on his heels shooting me a sideways glance before addressing me. I dragged my eyes away from the crew setting up and briefly glanced up at him.

-“You know what she was thinking when she lit up.”

--“What?” I asked

- “You know what she was thinking when she lit up.”

--“No, I mean what was she thinking?”

-“You know… that it’s bad for you.”

--“What’s bad?”

-“She was thinking that cigarette was bad for her but she wanted it anyway.”

--“Oh.”

The intern looked at him as if she were a puff away from blowing smoke in his face and telling his to go screw himself. You know smokers can get pretty snippy when someone criticizes their nicotine habit. I feel the same way about my addiction to pizza.

--“I think the very same thing every time I have a drink in my hand.”

He laughed.

-“You’re funny.”

--“Thanks.”

He looked down at me and smiled. He had a great smile it was warm and inviting. He stared into my eyes for a brief second then his attention was drawn to the bottle of orange juice I was sipping from. He tilted his head at me and arched an eyebrow asking me the silent question.

--“No, no there’s no liquor in my juice.

He laughed again and stepped closer and teased me with a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

-“Uh huh sure that's what they all say.”

I laughed and held my hand up as if swearing on a bible

--“This is strictly orange juice I swear!”

---“That’d be really messed up you showing up to work drunk.”, said the intern

-“You work around here?”

I nodded my head as I took another sip of juice, while the intern replied.

---“We intern at the mental health clinic down the block.”

-“What do you do?”

---“She interns in the substance abuse program and I intern at the adolescent clinic.”

he smiled and jerked his head my way

-“Oh then it would definitely be messed up if she showed up drunk.”

--“Ya think, especially this early in the crusty morning?”

-“What do you do there?”

---“I do intakes and process reports.” said the intern taking a pull on her cigarette.

-“I’m a therapist slash social worker for mentally ill substance abusers.”

-“Wow, that’s impressive.”

-“Thanks.”

-“I was locked up for distributing heroin.”

The intern’s eyes opened wide and her mouth formed a perfect circle in surprised. I looked up at him and smiled.

--“Now there’s an interesting career choice. How were the benefits and did it come with a dental plan?” I asked.

I guess my response wasn’t what he was used to hearing. I caught him by surprise he covered his eyes with his free hand as he laughed.

-“God you really are funny. That doesn’t bother you?”

--“Being thought as funny? No, not all all.”

-“That’s not what I meant.”

--“I know what you meant. Na, why should it bother me? What’s important is that you don’t let it bother you. What matters is what you’re doing with your life now. Don’t ever let the embarrassments of the past negatively affect your present.”

-“That’s good.”

I shrugged my shoulders

--“Feel free to print it out on a t-shirt.”

-“I used to smoke weed, never used heroin though.”

--“Good, that stuff is bad for you.”

-“Weed?” he joked

I snorted, “Yeah, weed.”

-“ I stopped smoking after passing out one day.”

--“Yeah all it takes is one bad trip to put you off. I used to smoke too I was a social toker.”

-“Really?”

--“Yeah but like I said all it takes is one bad experience to make you quit.”

-“Are you really a therapist?”

--“Yup”

-“I can see it, you’re easy to talk to.”

--“It’s what I do man.”

He laughed again, “I haven’t laughed this much in awhile.”

--“You’re living all wrong then. You should laugh at least 3 times during a conversation. It’s good for your heart.” I said.

Taking my advice to heart he laughed again and then pointed towards the film set. The intern looked towards the set and tossed her cigarette butt on the sidewalk grinding it into the asphalt with the heel of her boot.

-“I work here; I’m a production assistant on this set.”

---“What are you guys filming?” the intern asked.

-“Law and Order: SVU.”

--“I love that show.”

-“You do?

--“I love the whole Law and Order franchise.”

-“You want to laugh?”

--“Of course, are you going to juggle cameras for us?”

He laughed again and shook his head shooting a glance at the intern.

-“Is she always like this?”

the intern nodded her head and smiled.

---“Always!”

-“Nice”

--“So how were you going to make us laugh?”

-“I’ve never seen the show.”

Once again the look of surprise planted itself on the intern’s face this time my face mirrored hers.

--“You’re kidding me right?”

-“No I swear. All the guys on the set tease me about it.”

I was curious as to how he’d made it from heroin dealer to working as a production assistant on a show he’d never seen. My friend Tanya had majored in film at college and as of yet hadn’t been able to get her foot inside of the business. I wanted to hear his story and hopefully pick up some tips for Tanya but then the intern announced that it was time for us to leave otherwise we’d be late. She’d finished her cigarette and was thoroughly saturated with enough nicotine to hold her until well after lunch.

-“I should get back to work too.”

He pointed to the crew busy setting up equipment.

-“Hey it was really nice talking to you maybe I’ll see you again later?

--“Maybe, we have to walk back this way on our way home.”

-“We’re going to be filming here for 14 hours today.”

We said our goodbyes and headed off in opposite directions. The intern and I were at the corner about to cross the street when we heard him calling from the edge of the film set.

-“Hey funny girl,” he said pointing at me, “hey….what’s your name?

--“Me?”

He laughed and nodded his head

-“Yeah you, what’s your name funny girl?”

--“Mia”

He stared at me for a second as if he were tasting my name and deciding if he liked the taste of it or not.

-“Nice... Mia…Mia, my name’s Casey,

I smiled at him and waved

--“Hey there, Casey!”

He laughed and waved back

-“Hey there Mia, it was really great meeting you, see you later?

I shrugged my shoulders.

-“I’ll be here until 10:30 tonight. I really hope I get to see you again Mia.”




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Tuesday, December 02, 2008

High Five


My parents know about Psycho Chick’s crush on me and have been teasing me ever since they found out about it.My parents picked me up from school today and as she walked me to the parking lot Psycho Chick told me she wanted our moms to meet each other.


“Ma, Psycho Chick wants you to meet her mother.” I said after sliding into the backseat and making myself comfy. “Why are you two girls getting engaged already?” mom shot back without missing a beat. My dad who was in the driver’s seat started laughing. “Ha-ha woman that is so not funny.” I said “Oh little one I beg to differ!” she replied. My dad held up his open palm towards my mother, “High-five babe that was a good one!” he said as he slapped his palm against hers.


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2 comment from: Anonymous darla, Blogger Mia,


Animal Crackers


Our relationship had been brief but it had been a sweet one full of funny faces, and giggles.Now the look in her eyes said nothing would have made her happier than to see a chalk outline of my body on the floor of the bus.


Our relationship changed in the blink of an eye.Her mom had been holding her in her arms when the bus suddenly lurched forward causing the animal crackers she held in her zip lock bag to spill out. I reached over and snapped the baggie shut at her mother’s request. She didn’t appreciate me blocking her access to the crackers and now the toddler was giving me the dirtiest looks a little kid could muster.

Her eyes followed me as I made my way off the bus. When I made it to the side walk I looked up at the window. She was clutching the bag of animal crackers to her chest and still giving me the evil eye. That kid could sure hold a grudge.




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