Mia: Shaken Not Stirred

The true life stories of a NYC female.

Friday, May 27, 2011

Blonde Moment #108273

I was deep into my work when I felt someone at my back. I spun my chair around and mom chuckled “Your dad is courting me today; he brought me a bag full of candy.” Drawing my attention to the handful of Hershey Kisses she offered me. I playfully snatched one of her hand.

“God, I love Hershey’s Kisses. Thanks ma. ” and quickly unwrapped the one I’d taken from her hand. Mom smiled and nodded placing a handful of kisses beside my keyboard. “I know, that’s why I brought you these and not the other stuff he got for me.”

As soon as I was done I reached for another this time stopping to truly savor it.
“I wished they made them in like huge chocolate bars.” Mom stared at me for a second shook her head side to side then chuckled and said, “They do, it’s called a Hershey Bar...PLAIN!”

Let’s just call that my Blonde Moment #108273 shall we?


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Posted by @ 8:09 PM
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Saturday, May 21, 2011

The Big Gay Ice Cream Truck

The Yeti (my boyfriend) and I were walking in the village, an area of NYC known for its large gay community. The Yeti tends to talk before he thinks and as a result there are times when I just want to pop him one right across the puss due to inappropriate / insensitive remarks.

The Yeti: do you want some ice cream from the Big Gay Ice Cream Truck?

I narrowed my eyes at him not believing what he’d just said.

Me: What, what did you just say?

The Yeti: Big. Gay. Ice Cream truck…

“Gay” is slang for anything unappealing… a synonym for whack, weak,lame you know like a horrible flick or a hideous shirt…well you get the drift. The word gets tossed around a lot where I come from, even the gays use it and no one is offended by it much like the “N” word, it only has the power you choose to give it and in my world the word has no power other than a synonym. However due to the hood we were in and in light of Gay bashing I was shocked that the Yeti's usage of the word. I looked around to make sure no one was over hearing his comments; the Yeti tends to talk loud.

Me: Why would you say something like that?

The Yeti: No really, there's a big gay ice cream truck a block from here!

He pointed behind me... Yup, there was a Big Gay Ice Cream truck parked down the block according to the logo on it (see pic above)....whaddya know?! I guess the owners subscribe to the theory that words only have the power you give them. Nice.

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Posted by @ 11:07 AM
3 comment from: Blogger Goggles Piasano Ritardo, Blogger christina/ohio, Blogger Mia,

Wednesday, May 04, 2011

Ding Dong Bin Laden’s Dead

Naturally when I heard memories of 9-11 came rushing back to me. As soon as the death of Bin Laden was announced my phone began to vibrate with text messages from friends all over the world. Ding Dong Bin Laden’s Dead! , the majority of them said.

No matter what part of the globe the messages hailed from them all expressed their happiness over his death. I always knew the day would come when Bin Laden would be captured and I was pretty certain he’d be killed, men like him strive to be martyrs. I never doubted that he'd be captured. I'd always thought I’d be over the moon about his death. I was not over the moon; I was not jumping for joy like some of my friends were.

I ignored my phone and looked out my window my eyes drifting towards the spot where the twin towers once stood. It has taken me years to be able to look at that empty spot in the skyline and not flinch. There was even a year or two when I could not bear to look at the skyline at all. As a kid the towers were my landmark, they represented "home". I'd return from my family travels and my eyes would automatically gaze the skyline looking for the towers and smile in appreciation of being back home. My friends could not understand why I felt no satisfaction in Bin Laden’s death. I tried to explain that his death would never return our lost innocence. We’ll still get groped and prodded in the name of security at the airport. My Arab relatives will still get looked at twice on airplanes and trains. His death will not bring back the relatives I lost in the towers nor the other 3000 plus that perished with them. They felt that because of that and more I should be singing a chorus of Ding Dong Bin Laden’s Dead. I couldn't sing instead I was disappointed. I wanted us as humans to be better...to take the higher road and not celebrate the death of an enemy as if we were celebrating mardi gras.

Perhaps for some his death will bring closure I know it won’t for me because his death can never give me back all that was lost on 9 -11. Yes, he was an evil man and I am fully aware of how his hate changed our city, our lives and our world. However, I don’t have the room in my heart to store the amount of hate it would take to rejoice in a fellow human’s death I’m only 4ft 11 and I pray to the head cheese that I never do have the room for that hatred. Rather than join the celebration I stared at stars in the sky and prayed. I prayed that the world will never know another Bin Laden and I prayed that the world will realize one day the truth of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s words…

“I mourn the loss of thousands of precious lives, but I will not rejoice in the death of one, not even an enemy. Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that."


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Posted by @ 12:31 AM
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