Memories of Moo

I get a lot of traits from my Mother.  I have her hands, feet, ears, bone structure, and most of all, her silliness.  I don't think many people knew just how silly she could be.  She couldn't tell a joke to save her life, but she did have a great sense of humor and could be very whimsical.  For some reason, maybe because I just always have to be different, maybe because of the aforementioned silliness, I gave my Mom a nickname when I was about 15.  I started calling her Moo.  Because my Mother was so cool she went along with it.  She didn't like it when I called her "dude," but "Moo" she was okay with.  I started thinking about Moo last night as I was struggling with another bout of insomnia and I recalled my favorite memory of her.  That's what I want to share right now.

It was the summer between my Junior and Senior year of high school which means I was 17.  It was mid-morning and my mother was in her bedroom getting ready for work.  She worked 2nd shift so she didn't have to be in until early afternoon.  Her bedroom was right off of the kitchen and she had her door open.  I walked into the kitchen and saw the 2 water guns that my older brother and I had bought and filled with water the day before sitting on the kitchen table.  I was feeling mischievous so I grabbed one of the guns went into Moo's bedroom and started squirting water at her.  She yelled at me, naturally, and then chased me out of her bedroom.  She saw the second gun sitting on the table, and she grabbed it and started shooting me back.  Soon we are chasing each other all over the house spraying each other with water and laughing our asses off.  All of a sudden, my gun either jammed or I ran out or water or something, so now I'm trying to surrender.  Moo would have none of it.  I had started the water gun fight, and come hell or high-water (pun intended) she was going to finish it.  She chased me down, shouting "HA-HA" in glee, soaking me to the skin with her water gun.  Moo was going to have her revenge and love every minute of it!

Seeing that I had no recourse but to run away I ran out the front door, down the porch steps, down the stone stairs, to the sidewalk.  Moo comes tearing out of the house after me and stops for a minute on the porch.  Suddenly, she looks down at herself and realizes she's only wearing her pants and a bra!  She screams, tries to cover herself, and runs back into the house.  I literally collapsed on the sidewalk laughing until both my throat and my stomach hurt.  It was hilarious!

Moo was a little mad at me, but even she had to admit it was her own fault for not accepting my surrender.  She was so much fun.  We were always doing crazy things like that.  Whenever I miss her too much (which is always) I conjure up that memory and it makes me laugh to remember the look on Moo's face when she realized she was half-naked. 

As much as it hurts to have lost her so soon, I am so grateful to have had her in my life at all.  Someone who loved me so fully and unconditionally that I still feel it 4 years after her death.  The best thing I could wish for anyone reading this is that you have, or did have a Mom as great as mine.  If she's still around, why don't you give her a call? 

Just a suggestion.

My Love

He enters my life through the front door.
Using the key I have to him.
I watch him enter and my breath quickens in anticipation.
Knowing what's to come.
He takes me in his arms and holds me fast.
I grab on to him.
Like a drowning person holding on to a life preserver.
Without feeling my feet moving we are suddenly in my bedroom.
Our clothing becomes pools of fabric at our feet.
Finally we are in bed, in each other's arms, where we belong.

He looks deep into my eyes and caresses my cheek.
He slowly moves his head forward until his lips touch mine.
Our tongues move in a dance that has no beginning, no end.
His large calloused hands move over my skin.
Touching, rubbing, cupping...
Until I can't breathe from the sensations.
Our bodies are pressed together.
Flesh touching flesh.
I can feel his heart beating,
Its rhythm matches mine.
He enters me and we become one.

I can no longer think, I can only feel.
I hold him to me tightly with my arms and my legs.
Sensations wash over me like a tidal wave.
Colors I have never seen before dance before my eyes.
My every nerve ending is alive and singing.
They reach a crescendo, an explosion!
I yell out his name!
He yells out mine!
He collapses next to me and pulls my trembling body into his arms.
We cannot speak.
We can only breathe.
Sweet ecstasy.

Finally, he caresses my cheek again and kisses my forehead.
As I watch him dress my heart starts to sink.
One more kiss and then it's goodbye.
He leaves my life as he entered it.
Through the front door.
Using the key I gave to him.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

The passage above is an original poem written by me.  Even though I write a lot of it, I NEVER share my poetry with anyone so this is really scary for me.  It's at this moment that I don't care that no one actually reads my blog.  Ha-ha.

Playlist Part I

As I sit here typing on my very old, very slow laptop I have my earbuds in and my iPod going at full blast.  I always feel like I can concentrate better, and do everything better, if I am listening to music at the same time.  I'm not sure why that it is, but it's always been true.  My parents were always confused how I could study Algebra in high school with Motley Crue cranked full blast on my stereo.  I always just told them "don't fight it people, just go with it."  I just feel like my life needs a soundtrack, and I've always had one.  From LP records, to 8 track tapes, cassettes, cds, and finally to MP3s, I've always made sure that I had my favorite music on hand.  Everything also reminds me of music.  Someone could say to me that they're taking care of business and suddenly Bachman Turner Overdrive pops into my head and I might start humming.  I used to partly embarrass/partly amuse my mother when we would go grocery shopping because I could sing along to just about every song they played on the overhead speakers whether it was Barry Manilow, The Supremes, or Madonna.  I must know the words to hundreds of thousands of songs.  I know songs in French, Spanish, Italian, and German.  Yes, I'm a freak.

What I'm getting at is that there are so many songs that have shaped my life or taken part of some scene in my life that they have become intrinsic to these events.  If I tried to discuss all of them this blog would be more like a book so I'm just going to touch on a few for now and write about the rest as the mood hits me, hence the reason this is Part I.

"Irvine" by Kelly Clarkson
     I don't care what anyone says about Kelly Clarkson, she is the best vocalist to ever have come out of American Idol and she will always be my favorite winner.  Kelly has many great songs and I feel that her album My December was unfairly judged by critics and fans due to all of the controversy that stemmed from Kelly's disagreement with Clive Davis.  In any event, this album contains the single "Irvine" which strikes a very resonant chord with me.  It's about reaching the end of your rope and asking God if he's still paying attention and for a little help.  I know where she's coming from.  I sometimes can't hear this song without crying. 

I know you're busy, I know I'm just one
But you might be the only one who sees me
The only one to save me
Why is it so hard?
Why can't you just take me?

That's exactly how I feel when I get into my depressive moods.  EXACTLY.

"Hurt" by Christine Aguilera
     This is another song that makes me bawl like a baby.  I heard it shortly after my Mother's death and it seemed like it was written for or by me.

There's nothing I wouldn't do
To hear your voice again
Sometimes I wanna call ya
But I know you won't be there

Some days I feel broke inside but I won't admit
Sometimes I just wanna hide 'cause it's you I miss
And it's so hard to say goodbye
When it comes to this, oooh yeah
Would you tell me I was wrong?
Would you help me understand?
Are you looking down upon me?
Are you proud of who I am?

There's nothing I wouldn't do
To have just one more chance
To look into your eyes
And see you looking back

I'm sure Christina or whomever wrote this song is talking about a break-up of some kind, but you can see how I could interpret the words to fit my situation. 

Just in case you think I'm having a dark day my next song is a lot cheerier...

Oye Como Va - Santana
     This song brings back so many childhood memories.  It's really just the same couple of lines over and over, and I was really little when it came out, but I just remember riding around in my cousin's red Malibu car with the little red fabric balls that hung off of the top of the interior, wearing a hooded, red sweatshirt that had a "Chicano Power" patch on the sleeve and being happy.  For the life of me I can't remember if the car belonged to David, Alex, or Michael (my cousins, brothers to each other), but I'm pretty sure all of them were there.  The three of them, along with my cousins Joe and Robert, instilled in me a pride in my Mexican heritage that I've carried with me all my life.  I don't know if I could ever thank them enough for that.

I think I'm going to do one more song and then call it a day.

Waiting for a Girl Like You - Foreigner
     Don't ask me why, but this is one of my favorite songs of all time.  I just like the idea of a guy who has been waiting for his dream girl and has finally found her.  I just think it's romantic, and I've always wanted to be that girl.  It hasn't happened yet, but fingers crossed.

Okay, I've embarrassed myself enough for one day, although it's not like anyone is even reading this besides myself, but I still have fun writing it.  Also, if you're not familiar with these songs, check them out.  They are great, and "Irvine" has the bonus song "Chivas" attached to it which is HILARIOUS.  My favorite part?  When she says:

I take the Chivas instead.
Over Your Bed
It wasn't even good,
Trust me
I must have been so, so, so, so lonely
You are crap, yeah

Kelly can be kind of bitter at times, but she always entertains!

Bitch Session

Today's entry is going to be a little different in that it is going to be somewhat personal.  I tweeted a joke earlier where I said "both of my parents passed away before giving me the 'sex talk'.  Now I'll never know how it's done."  Now this was a joke, but it's actually also the truth.  My father died when I was 16 and my mother died just a few years ago in 2006.  My older brother also died back in 1997.  So now it's just me.  The last remaining person of my family.  I have cousins and aunts and uncles, but to me it's not quite the same thing.  I sometimes feel like Kung Fu.

I'm probably one of the most contradictory people you could ever meet.  I have a natural optimism but I also have serious bouts of depression since the death of my mother.  I take that back  I've been having depression since my mother's health began to deteriorate rapidly back in 2004 which also led to a lot of compulsive behavior such as internet addiction, insomnia, shopaholism, and terminal laziness.  Prior to my mother getting sick I was at the top of my game.  I had reached a very top level of my career in banking and had just been offered a management position with the company I was with which would have entailed relocating to California.  It was like a dream come true.  I think of it as "when I was rich."  I was making excellent money, I have family around, I had lots of friends, a great boyfriend, an awesome car (relatively), and just about everything I needed.  Then the bottom fell out and as Achebe tried to tell us "things fall apart".

Now I live in a state 1000 miles away from what remains of my family, I am currently unemployed because of the recession, I have a boyfriend who I see twice a week (if I'm lucky - long story), and my car is a piece of crap.  I have made a couple of friends, but they live in different cities of CT and I never see them.  Sometimes I get so depressed that I purposely revel in doing things that are bad for my health or ignore health problems because I just want something to kill me.  I know that's a stupid thing to say, but it's just how I feel sometimes.  Don't worry though.  I am way to Catholic to ever take my own life.  Too chicken too.

Keep in mind though that this is only how I feel some of the time.  Most of the time I am optimistic.  I know I will find an even better job in my field, or maybe even go into a different field because I am good at so many things.  I just wish I knew what I really want to do with my life.  Too bad I can't make some kind of living telling dirty jokes on twitter all day.

Okay, I am sick of myself whining.  I need to go do something constructive like get some ice cream.

The 'N' word

I can't believe that it's 2010 and the use of the 'n' word is still an issue.  It's unbelievable to me that racism still exists.  Let's just put aside, for the moment, the ignorant bias so many seem to have right now against Muslims.  This is wrong also, obviously, but that's a topic of discussion for a different day.  Maybe even for a different person.  I'm talking about the insanity that is use of the 'n' word and the ignorance and stupidity of the people who use it. 

I remember several years ago when I used to spend a lot of my internet time on the message boards of IMDb.  Yes, I know, --LOSER!  Anyway, I also spent some time expressing my extreme dislike for Paris Hilton.  I was shocked that this bimbo actually had fans.  When it was disclosed that she used the 'n' word I was not shocked that Skankis (as I used to call her) would use this word since all evidence of her background seemed to indicate a very serious lack of intelligence and an over-inflated sense of self.  What was shocking was the fact that her fans chose to defend her actions and even argued that Paris is not a racist because she was in a movie (House of Wax) where she had to play the girlfriend of a black person.  (Insert eye-roll here.)

When a few years later Michael Richards was shown yelling the 'n' word at a couple of hecklers during a stand-up comedy show I was very disappointed.  Who doesn't love Seinfeld's Cosmo Kramer?  Even now when I watch reruns of the show I sometimes have a hard time enjoying his performance as much as I used to now that I know what he's really like.  Okay, so he was apologetic, but that doesn't erase the fact that he yelled out the racial slur 6 times with what felt like glee.

Don't even get me started on Mel Gibson.  Is there any group of people he hasn't offended?  Jews, women, Mexicans, the black community, homosexuals,...if he hasn't gotten to your particular group yet, don't worry,  he will.

I suppose the reason I am so hesitant to forgive the use of this word is not only because of the very hateful and disgusting connotations, but because I believe that if you use this word, even by accident, it is because it is in your mind.  What do I mean by that?  I never use this word, even to myself in my head.  I can't even bring myself to type it in my blog because that is how much I hate that word.  I don't understand how everyone doesn't feel this way.  The point is that if someone like Paris, Michael, Mel, or Laura Ingram can so easily say this word it is only because they have been thinking it all along.  That is what, in my opinion, makes them racist.

Are people ALLOWED to use the 'n' word?  Of course.  There's no law against it and we still have Freedom of Speech in this country.  That's one of the caveats of this particular freedom.  We have to listen to a lot of bullshit from a lot of assholes who I wouldn't piss on if they were on fire (ooh I have to remember to tweet that).  The good news is that most of us are cognizant of the fact that these people are douche bags and there is never any shortage of people who are willing to stand up against racism.  Luckily, our side happens to be quite vocal, so we need never fear that one of these losers will slip by our watch. 

Quick word

I only have a few minutes, so I can't go into much.  Had an excellent day with my boyfriend where we did discuss politics for a while and he didn't call me a Marxist.  No, he called me a Fascist.  Not much of an improvement, but he only did it because I handed his ass to him in a debate about Liberals and Conservatives.  He still thinks he's a Liberal though.  He bought a book by Ann Coulter and one by Laura Ingram today and he calls himself a Liberal.  I love him, but he really needs to wake up from his delusions. 

Gay Marriage

For my first official blog I want to talk about gay marriage and homosexuality in general.  I just can't understand why anyone would be against gay marriage. In fact, I agree 100% with the ruling in California that banning gay marriage is unconstitutional.  There is no valid LEGAL reason to ban same sex marriage. Think about it. Why do we have laws? We have laws to maintain order and to protect the people.  How does same-sex marriage threaten either one of these areas?  I have asked this question of my boyfriend who is a conservative in liberal clothing (he SAYS he's a liberal but he calls me a socialist and he likes Beck, Palin, Limbaugh, Coulter, et. al.) and he says that marriage is supposed to be between a man and a woman.  That's it.  That's not a legal reason. That's an OPINION. 

Where does that leave us? Oh, yes, religion.  We cannot allow same-sex marriage because of religious beliefs. Okay, sports fans, I hate to break it to you, but we cannot base laws on that principal. According to the First Amendment to the Constitution there must be a seperation between church and state. Funny that so many people who are always waving the Constitution like a battle-torn flag to protect their right to be gun-toting racists tend to ignore this part of their favorite document.

Why bring religion into any of it anyway?  Why should anyone have to follow laws based on Judeo-Christian principles?  How is it YOUR place to tell ME how to live my life.  As long as what I do doesn't hurt anyone else, what business is it of yours?  Are you trying to save someone's soul?  Take care of your own damn soul and let everyone else take care of their's.  Besides, I don't believe that this is the motivation anyway.  If it was there wouldn't be so much anger and hatred directed at people of the LGBT community.  Besides, are any of these people so perfect in their own faith that they have the right to judge other people?  Do they follow the 10 Commandments to the letter and if they don't should we start making laws to punish them?  How many days in jail or how big a of a fine should we impose when someone texts OMG or says "Oh my God" in casual conversation?  What if they decide to skip church because they want to watch the Packer game, should they then be shunned?

What is it that you're really protesting anyway?  When you come right down to it, aren't you trying to legislate love? 

There will probably be a part two to this, but right now everyone is tweeting me, sending me messages on facebook, and emails that I can't concentrate any more.  My brain only works in 20 minute increments and then it makes a whirring noise and shuts down.  Pffffffft...........clunck.

Blogging

Don't ask me why, but I've decided to start blogging. I made that decision because while I talk a lot of crap over on Twitter, I'm rarely serious and I'm sure all of my follows think I'm a sex-crazed idiot.  Well, I am, but that's besides the point.  Seriously, I really do have a working brain and a lot of opinions about life, love, politics, man's inhumanity to man, pizza toppings, and so many other important issues.  If it also opens up some kind of dialogue with open-minded, intelligent people then all of this stupid typing will have been worth it.