Mia: Shaken Not Stirred

The true life stories of a NYC female.

Friday, January 29, 2010


My best friend Jackie and I have known each other since forever. To an outsider reading our Face Books or eavesdropping on our conversations our affection for each other is not an obvious thing. Why post words of encouragement or send hugs via an app when an insult will do just as nice?

Our insults are not limited to FB we also text each other through out the day in between our phone calls. I thought I’d share some of our text messages from the past week. The messages are in their entirety.


Mia: I'm cold whore

Jackie: We already know you’re a cold whore

Mia: Touché


Mia: Sloreeee

Jackie: Fuck youuuuu

Mia: Not nice

Jackie: Eh whatevaaaa


Jackie: Bitch!!!

Mia: I’ll shank u


Mia: Bitxh
You’re such a bitch the c didn't even want to be next to u

Jackie: Fuck you


Jackie: You're a miniature bag of whore

Mia: Lol aww good things come in small packages

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Friday, January 22, 2010

Hand Sanitizer

We’d just finished having our eyebrows done when “T” informed me that she wanted to stop by a store before our next stop because she needed to purchase something. I was thinking more along the lines of some gum. Turns out she was talking about stopping in an adult store for a pocket rocket

As soon as we entered we spotted the artistically displayed pastel colored dildos on the counter nearest the door. "T" reached out to touch one and then quickly pulled her hand back when she saw a drag queen in an outrageous paisley dress approaching us. “Honey, it’s only a rubber dick. It’s not going to hurt you, don’t be afraid to touch it.” The drag queen said over her shoulder as she opened the door to leave.

“T” has this sweet innocent face and if you had to go by the looks of her you’d be hesitant to ever drop an “F” bomb around her for fear of hurting her feelings. In reality the girl is a freak. In fact she has a PhD in freakology. I however must have the word bellaca stamped on my forehead because despite the fact that "T" was the one peering into the glass display case loaded with personal massagers, hand cuffs, edible underwear and candy flavored lubricants the sales clerk addressed me.

“T” tore her eyes away from display case long enough to explain to the clerk what she was in the market for. While the clerk showed "T" all of her merchandise she flirted with me. I can be kind of dense when it comes to people hitting on me so I didn’t realize it right away. When it finally dawned on me that she was indeed hitting on me I dismissed it telling myself that it was my imagination.

The clerk laid her hand over mine, “I’ll be right back baby I’m going to get something from the back” she said to me.

“Dude, she is hitting on you!” "T" said when the clerk was gone.

“Really?” I replied

“Damn you are so slow.”

Before I could make with the witty comeback the clerk showed up with her purse and pulled out a personal massager from it.

“This is my toy." she said as she strapped it around her denim clad hips and then switched it on . “The massager rests on your clitoris and you press down on it."
She then reached for my hand and pulled it towards her “personal area”. We waged a little tug of war for my hand. I attempted to pull it away while she placed it on her massager.

“Feel the massager vibrating?”
"Yup sure do…can I get my hand back now?"

She held my hand tighter and applied more pressure to the massager.

“See you can control the degree of your massage.
“Wonderful, can I get my hand back?” I said as I attempted to regain custody of my hand.
“I call my toy Mia”

I yanked my hand back so hard the clerk almost fell into the display case. I held my hand up and muttered, “handsanitizerhandsanitizerhandsanitizer” several times.

“Mia?” "T" said as reached into my messenger bag and squirted Purel all over my hands.

“Yes, her name is Mia.” the clerk replied with smirk on her face.

I wasn’t sure if the name was a coincidence or if she had heard "T" call me by name and was just messing me. I quickly decided it was a coincidence.

"T" looked over at me, “Did you hear that M…”
“ Woman, hand sanitizer!” I cut in before "T" could say my name.

"T" decided against that massager and purchased another one instead. As we walked out the store the clerk called out to me, “Have a nice day Mia, hope to see you again!”

"T"’s eyes opened wide and her mouth formed a perfect “O”. I felt myself blushing and gave the clerk a tight lipped smile and pushed "T" out the door. "T turned around to face me her mouth was still open and I just knew she was going to say something.

“ Hand. Sanitizer. Please. ” I said.

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Posted by @ 4:41 PM
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Tuesday, January 19, 2010

Save The World, Eat a Rhino Boy

The regulars to my blog here are used to seeing my art work since I always use it as part of my blog template. For example,the header above, that's a Suarez creation. Today however I'd like to share some stuff with you that wasn't designed for my personal use.

New York Times best seller Karen Marie Moning is the author of the Highlander and Fever Series and one of my favorite authors. She is also a phenomenal lady and very kind to her fans. Thanks to Karen and her loverly assistant Leiha’s ( aka my muse ) encouragement and hands on approach I’ve been experiencing a creative surge these days . They encourage me to let my imagination soar when it comes to putting down on paper what I envision within my mind. I owe them a tremendous debt for that, well that and their faith in me.

After being a regular contributor to her fan art zazzle store
I was asked to take a stab at creating a tattoo for the heroine (Mac) and hero ( Barrons) of her fever series. I was fortunate in that she actually liked the tattoos and has revealed them as Mac’s and Barrons’ offical tats.
I thought I’d share some of my copyrighted stuff here and encourage you to check out her books...

Barrons and Mac's tattoos

A few wall papers inspired by her series and available on her website. Make sure you check out my fellow Moning Maniac's VP's wallpapers as well. They are wickedly awesome.

and finally two of my newest contributions to Karen Marie Moning's Zazzle store

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Monday, January 18, 2010

We Prefer The Term "Little People"

You think she would’ve learned her lesson about tossing the “M” word around. My best friend had misdialed my number and had gotten a harsh reprimand when she continuously asked that “the midget” come to the phone. Jackie refused to accept that she had the wrong number and the person on the other end of the line took offense to being addressed as “the midget” and being bombarded with wise ass cracks about midgets.

She was on her way to take a final several days later when she called from the bus stop. “Good morning midget!” she happily exclaimed before turning around and meeting the angry glare of a midget who was standing several feet away from her.

“Uh oh” she whispered into the phone and quickly explained what had just happened. “Serves you right you slore,” I chuckled, “we prefer the term little people!”

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Sunday, January 17, 2010

I’ve been forced to change my opinion

She was six and he was eight when they met in elementary school.
There was something different about him she sensed, she’ll accept me he sensed. From day one they were inseparable; they shared everything from lunch to nail polish.

In junior high school he did something amazing, he ”came out”. At the age of twelve he had the balls to do something many adults never have the courage to do. He said out loud what many had suspected and what Caitlin had known since first grade, Jose was gay. More than that he felt he was a girl in a boy’s body and began taking tentative steps to living his life as a female. Caitlin nicknamed him Christina after their favorite singer. The instant the first insult was thrown at Jose Caitlin was there to lay a verbal beat down on the person who dared to spew hate. She also developed a wicked left hook in response to those who wished to go beyond the verbal. Her hands on approach to Jose’s defense earned Caitlin the nickname “The Pit bull” a nickname that still follows her to this day.

Eventually the kids at school with a lot of prompting from Caitlin and school staff accepted Jose. Not all but enough and those who didn’t accept what he was learned to keep their hate to themselves unless they wanted to deal with the wrath of a tiny strawberry blonde and Jose’s many in school advocates.

They dreamed of having their own fashion line and every afternoon they’d hang out in Caitlin’s room designing and sewing outfits and handbags Caitlin would eventually wear to school. Jose sought refuge in Caitlin’s home. He was accepted there, he wasn’t so lucky at his own home. His mother attempted to beat out the “gayness” out of him with whatever she could lay her hands on bible, belt, broom, bats nothing was off limits when it came to beating the demon she felt resided in Jose out of him. The school took notice and Children’s Protective Services was called in and Jose was removed from his home.

He was shuttered from foster home to foster home for several years. In high school he found a loving home that accepted him and wanted to adopt him he also began attending the Harvey Milk High School. Jose now known as Christina was taking steps to become a woman and was living life as a young female. She was thriving and Caitlin was at her side every step of the way.

One year ago December several days had gone by without Caitlin hearing from Christina. Caitlin was worried; they usually spoke several times a day every single day. All of Caitlin’s calls were going straight to voice mail.

It was late Christmas night when Caitlin got the call. Christina had been killed several days earlier. She’d been the victim of a gay bashing. My sister grew up that night. If I ever doubted that a broken heart could be heard my doubts were laid to rest that night. What followed were months of depression and crying at the mere mention of Christina’s name.

Last week my sister finally visited Christina’s grave. It was a sort of closure for her. The very next day she took part in a school debate on gay rights. There had been no plans for her to take part but when she heard anti-gay rights sentiments being expressed on the podium she couldn’t hold back and begged to be heard. What followed was an impassioned speech that came from the heart. When she was done she was given a standing ovation. I was told that there wasn’t a dry eye in the audience. She’d moved them, even managed to make some re-think their stand on gay rights.

Once upon a time I thought my baby sister was born to make the world a prettier place. I’ve been forced to change my opinion. Caitlin was born to make changes in this world and it has nothing to do with her artistic talent.

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Friday, January 08, 2010

Monsters On The Plane

The plane had been in the air for less than twenty minutes when I was struck by the beauty of the clouds. Psycho Chick had taken her medication so she was relaxed and ultra mellow. The female next to us was one big bag of jumbled raw nerves.

I took a break from taking pictures and peered out at the wing a little smile crossing my lips.

“What are you looking at?” Psycho Chick asked.

“I’m looking for monsters. ” I replied.

“You’re weird.”

I shrugged my shoulders and laughed.

“And yet you seek me out, so what does that say about you?”

She reached into her purse and pulled out a bottle of pills and shook them at me

“I’m under psychiatric care.”

“Damn skippy you are.”

“Seriously what’s the deal with the monsters?”

“I watched a lot of Twilight Zone as a kid and whenever I’m a plane I always remember this episode where there’s a monster is on the wing of the plane.”

Psycho chick had never seen the episode I was talking about or the Twilight Zone movie in which they redid the Nightmare at 20,000 Feet episode. I went into great detail explaining the story and compared the TV version to the movie version.

“Man that sounds scary!” Psycho chick said when I was done.

“Hell yeah, especially in the movie version when he breaks off a piece of the wing!”

I hadn’t realized the female next to us was listening in on our convo until I heard a whimper. I winced and stage whispered, “Ah maybe now is so not the time to be discussing this.”

Psycho Chick turned around in her seat and stared at the frightened passenger and quickly turned back to me.

“You think I should offer her a Xanax?”

“Are you freaking nuts?! You can’t offer someone one of your pills that’s drug dealing!”

“I’m not going to charge for it I’ll give it to her for free!”

“No. She might have a bad reaction and freak the hell out on this plane. Keep your damn pill pushing ways to yourself . ”

Psycho Chick turned around a stared at the woman again who was now praying.

“She’s praying!”


I leaned out to look at the woman and sure enough she was praying. Her eyes were closed tightly and she was deep into an Our Father. Never one to interrupt a person’s special time with the head cheese I waited ‘til she was done and introduced myself to her.

For the next thirty minutes or so we talked and the woman was actually rather calm until we hit some turbulence. The woman let out a yelp and pulled a blanket over her head and began to pray again. Psycho Chick then leaned over me to look out the window.

“What are you doing?” I asked as she elbowed me in the boob.

“Looking for monsters.” She replied mischievously.

Our fellow passenger took a break from praying to mutter, “Monsters?”

I shook my head at my friend, “Don’t make me hurt you psycho chick.” I shot back.

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Thursday, January 07, 2010

I Hope He Has A Big Box

The phone rang and Jackie told me that Carl her husband had an Alzheimer’s joke he wanted to tell me. Carl is always good for a laugh. The fact that he sounds just like Christopher Walken cracks me up even more. Btw Carl has taken to calling me “Margaret” as payback for me nicknaming Jackie “Agnes”. I put the phone on speaker since The Yeti (my boyfriend) was in the room with me.

Jackie: Margaret!

Mia: Yes Agnes?

Jackie: Hold on Carl is coming to the phone.

Carl: Hello, who is this? Margaret?

Jackie: Carl, it’s Margaret

Carl: What…what do you want?

Mia: You were going to tell me a joke.

Carl: What joke?

Mia: The joke you were going to tell me.

Carl: What are you talking about?

Mia: What do you mean what am I’m talking about, what are you talking about?

Carl: Bah!

Carl clucked his tongue and handed the phone off to Jackie without saying another word.

Mia: Huh? What was that all about?

Jackie: Nothing.

As Jackie and I continued our conversation Carl could be heard in the background repeating the brief convo we had just had over and over again. As he listened to Carl rambling on in the background the Yeti began to laugh. Several seconds later a light bulb went on over my head. Ohhhhh I get it! I finally "got" Carl’s Alzheimer joke.

Eventually the Yeti stopped laughing long enough to tell Jackie that I’d had another “blonde moment” and that he was going to start collecting my blonde moments.

I hope he has a big box.

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Tuesday, January 05, 2010

They Can Tell?

Sometimes I have “special” moments. I’m not talking special awwww warm fuzzy moments. I’m talking about brain temporarily on hiatus moments. Case in point my best friend Jackie and I were shopping and stopped to look at a display of wigs.

“Mia, the best ones are human hair wigs. The wig makers prefer virgin hair.”

This is the part where my brain took a hike. I thought about what Jackie said for a quick second and snorted.


“Virgin hair Mia they prefer virgin hair it’s better to work with.”

“Jackie, how do they know when a woman’s been uh sullied? What once you have sex your hair texture changes?”

Jackie threw her hair back (not a wig btw) and laughed so loud I felt the vibrations in my bones. When she finally stopped and wiped the tears from her eyes she stared at me.



She stared at me again with what appeared to be a smile reserved for the mentally incapacitated. Slowly my brain began functioning again. I smiled sheepishly at her as I felt my cheeks turning red.

“Ahhh that’s not what you meant by virgin hair is it?”

She shook her head no.

“Um let me guess…you meant hair untouched by certain chemicals like hair dye right?”

Jackie slowly nodded and inched closer to me to put her arm around my shoulder. I’m never going to live this down I thought.


I raised my hand to stop her from saying anything else and slowly turned my eyes back to the wig display.

“Shut up Jackie.”

We said nothing for all about 10 seconds before I muttered “Virgin hair” and we both burst out laughing so hard we ended up having to hold onto each other for support.

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