Mia: Shaken Not Stirred


The true life stories of a NYC female.

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Horror movies, Minorities and Hollywood Clichés


Some friends and I were having lunch and somehow or other the discussion turned to horror movies, minorities and Hollywood clichés.

“Mia, do you think in today’s Hollywood would any of us make it out alive?”

“You’d be the first to go” I told Tanya.

“Me? Why?”

Five heads turned towards her at the same time with dismayed looks decorating their faces.

“What do you mean why?” I asked

“Why would I be the first to go?”

“Duh, because you’re black!” One of the girls pointed out.

Tanya thought about it for a moment and then nodded her head in agreement.

“Yeah but you’ll go down with a fight laced with mad slang because blacks are always street tough and speak fluent ghetto.” I said.

The group chuckled. I jerked my head at the pretty blonde sitting next to me.

“This one would be next because you know white girls especially pretty blondes with big boobs never can seem to run without tripping and falling. Even dust motes prove to be problematic for them when they run. Oh and when they do get up they only fall back down again a couple of seconds later. I think it’s the boobs….it throws them off balance.”

More laughter and head nodding by my friends followed my comment especially when the pretty bosomy blonde glanced down at her rack.

“What about me Mia?” my Chinese friend asked.

“You’d last longer than any of us would because you know Asians are geniuses. You’d know who the killer was and how to stop him with a blade of grass and a stick of gum.

“Ha take that home girl!” she said to our black friend.

“Uh uh don’t get cocky there girl. No one likes a cocky Asian in these flicks. If you’re cocky that means you’re down with a gang. We’re not doing gang banging in this flick.” I said, “You’d last longer but you’re still going to die. But you’ll go down with some pretty impressive martial arts move. Cause you know all Orientals know kung fu.

“What about you how would you die?” someone asked.

I paused for a minute to think of my options…but after a quick memory scan of movies and videos I’d seen in my life that had Latinos in them there was only one option left for me…

“I’d be done in by hormones because you know Latinas are always horny. I’d probably be feeling myself up in a seductive way in a barely there outfit for no plot enhancing reason other than to show my body. Then the door knob to my room would jiggle. Naturally I’d run to the door without thinking twice about the fact that my friends have been dropping like flies. I’d ask who is it and yet despite the fact that there’s no answer and that somebody is slamming their body into the door trying to break it in my dumbass would open the door.

“Why?”

“Because I’d be thinking that it was some hot guy I’d flirted earlier with that was dropping by for a taste of my Latina heat. I’d fluff up the boobs and open the door. By the time I realize that it’s the killer in the room with me the most I’d get to do is go for his face with my blood red talon nails. That’s how the Chinese character would know who the monster was by the way.

“What you mean?”


“Well because she is so brilliant she will notice a fleck of my pomegranate red nail polish on the killer’s cheek from when I tried to scratch him. You know that 99 cent nail polish never holds up well. It always chips and peels.”

“So if I’m dead who fingers the murderer?” the movie’s genius asked.

“The killer leaves you for dead and goes off to find his next victim but you oh my little genius would manage to scrawl the killer’s initials in blood as you take your last breath and leave instructions on how to kill him to boot.”

“Wow Mia I’m the shit.”

“Yes you are my friend and don’t let anyone ever tell you differently.”


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Tuesday, August 11, 2009

A Million Smiles



Something about the woman’s tone irked me …kind of…sort of.
One of my eyebrows flew up and froze into an arch, my eyes had narrowed and my head had tilted slightly to the side. Oh and lawd help me I was smiling but it wasn’t my happy to see ya smile it was my yourethisclose from being told off smile. Yeah I got a smile for every occasion. I’ve got a million smiles.


A group of us were chatting and a friend asked me a question which I partially answered in Spanish.

“Mia, you’re Latina?” the new comer not my friend yet asked.

“Yes” I replied

I’m actually Hispanic there’s a difference but non-Latinos and non-Hispanics rarely know that and I wasn’t in the mood to educate anyone. It was too hot to play teacher.

“I knew you were some kind of minority I just didn’t know what kind!”


some kind of minority?” I asked incredulously there was something about the way she’d said it that made me want to repeat it over and over again. “Some kind of minority?”

The woman nodded her head, “Yeah I could tell by your coloring but I couldn’t tell if you were an Arab or something like that. I knew you weren’t black but these days you can never tell.

I stared at her and cleared my throat a little and let out a deep throaty laugh a sure sign that I was irked. It was definitely something about the way she said it that irritated me.

“Oh honey I am so not some kind of minority.

“Mia’s a mix of many kind of minorities!” one of my friends interjected.

“You’re damn skippy I am.” I said

“What kind are you ?” she asked

“The nice kind.” I replied and laughed.

“Mia’s of Spaniard, Celt and Arab ancestry on her maternal grandmother’s side, Basque and Spaniard on her maternal grandfather’s side and pure Puerto Rican on her father’s side.” My very knowledgeable friend interjected since I wasn’t offering up my family tree for inspection.

“Oh Basque and Celt like that character in the book,” she said pointing to a paperback she’d been reading, "That’s where you get that scary look from!”

Wtf now I’m scary? Oh wow this female is so winning points with me.

“Scary?”

“Yeah you’ve got this tough chick vibe going on. I was scared of you when I first met you. Your natural body language screams I will kick you ass! You’re very intimidating you know.” she said and then giggled.

“Oh yeah all 4ft 11 of me screams intimidation. People hide when they see me. Entire communities take up torches and pitchforks when I roll into town. ” I rolled my eyes at her.

“There’s something about your eyes. Where did you get them from?” she asked.

“Wal-mart.”

“Seriously Mia where did you get them from? I’m into archeology and history. I have a degree in history this stuff is fascinating.”

“I inherited the eyes from my maternal grandfather.”

“That’s the Basque side right?”

I nodded my head.

“Yeah that’s it it’s your eyes. Throughout history Basques have had a reputation for being fierce it shows in your eyes.”

“Really? Well grrrrrr then.” I said as I bared my teeth at her.

She giggled and then sighed. “Oh Mia it’s been so nice to get to know you. I’m not scared of you anymore! You’re not as scary as you look!”

I nodded my head. “Yeah it’s been a slice of heaven for me too finding out I’m some kind of fierce looking minority that intimates people with my looks.”

She smiled and seemed pleased with herself. I returned it with one of my million smiles but this one didn’t quite reach my eyes.

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