What I Love to Hate

I don't have time for this and I know I shouldn't. It's like choosing between a carrot and french fries. No one really craves carrots (unless you eat too many french fries--you know you've been there, don't lie, this is a safe place). All I'm saying is that I don't have time to be blogging and need to finish some home work but, alas, it's happening. Can you see the words?

Since I was a kid my Dad always told me that I should be a critic. I think he meant a movie critic, but maybe just about life. I wish i could get paid for my amazing opinion. If you are looking for someone to analyze your life, I am currently available and can send you my resume. Or, just hire me. I'm a good worker, you shall see. :)

So, I see things that I just don't like. I am not TRYING to judge. It just comes naturally. Call it a gift. It's not so much me judging but perhaps more of me wanting curtosy from those with whom I co-habitate this lovely sphere of a world in which we live. I am constantly out of my home and am always finding myself in situations that cause these opinions below:





In no specific order:

1. FLUSH THE TOILET when you drop a bomb in a public bathroom

Going into a public bathroom and the person in the stall directly next to mine (or just being in the bathroom counts but somehow I find myself NEXT the person) wants count to the number 2 and leave that number in the stall and doesn't bother to FLUSH until my nose hairs are burnt off and I want to throw up. Please, for the sake of all mankind or me, a woman of the species, just flush right when it hits the water. I don't know how many times I have had to hold my tongue from saying, "If you're going to poop can you at least flush?" It's okay to flush before you are finished. Just get the smell out of here. I don't want to inhale YOUR deathly odors. 

*sorry for those of you who don't talk about these things...someone's gotta do it*

2. If you hit me by accident I forgive you but would like you more if you said the magic word--"I'm SORRY" .

I get it--places to go, people to see. Trust me, I know. But, let's not forget, it's okay to excuse yourself from your imperfect ways. It's just proper to apologize for hitting someone with your backpack or your arm or you didn't see where you were going. Just acknowledge it and be done with it. You'll feel so much better after. Yay. 

TO BE CONTINUED...

"You look Freakin' Porta Rican"

December 12, 2012

Characters involved:

myself= the "porta rican"
my Father= the New Yorker
my Mom= the innocent Peruvian


Jennifer Lopez, Ricky Martin, Luis Fonse, Marc Anthony...I'd like to think that all of these beautiful Puerto Rican people are attractive. I mean, I should know. Before Ricky Martin came out of the metaphorical closet I seriously wanted to marry the man (the irony of my life). So, when my Dad and I had this conversation, you can imagine my confusion. You see, if you THINK my Dad is giving you a compliment...you might want to re-evaluate the sentence structure of the statement. Nothing comes that easy with a guy from New York.

To give you a taste of my youth, this is a compliment from my Father from when I was probably 19.

     "Diana, you're a pretty girl,"   LONG PAUSE...You would want to take that as a compliment, wouldn't you? Well, here comes the rest...

     "...don't talk." -_____-

He thought pretty highly of himself, but, in case you didn't get it he basically told me I'm pretty but stupid.

HAHA o.o

So, it's not true---OBVIOIUSLY, excpet the positive part ;) but, you see, you can't trust what the seems like a compliment! EVER (take that as a lesson for future reference).


This was the run down of our conversation on this lovely twelvth of December. I had just bought a new shade of RED lipstick and was wearing my favorite red pants....(to any Puerto Rican readers...please understand the history behind it)

red lips

Me: "Hi, Pops."

Dad: "What's that you got on"

Me: "I got it today, do you like it?"

Dad: "You look Porta' Rican."

Me: "What? But I'm more Peruvian than Puerto Rican."

Dad:" You look freakin' Porta Rican, take it off!"

Me: (confused if looking "Porta Rican" was a good or bad thing...I personally always thought Puerto Ricans were good looking.)
         But Dad, it's a trend now, it's not out of the ordinary."

Dad: (looking at my Mom) You would let her out of the house like that?

Mom: I think she looks nice

Dad: I cannot believe you would let her out of the house like that, (looking back at me and his voice getting louder--)You know what, you're not allowed to wear dat lipstick in da house, go take it awf!!

Me: Seriously, Dad? Okay, I just won't look at you while I wear it...and I got up and went to the bathroom...where I heard him whisper to my Mom that I look like...

what my Dad saw in Brooklyn growing up:

all the Puerto Rican girls who wore that red lipstick that us gals love so much is what all the Prostitutues wore. So, the one day my Dad speaks up against anything I wear is because I remind him of a prostitue. I will full-heartedly take that as love. The color of crimson RED. Haha. Thanks for lookin' out for me Pops. I still wear it but he doesn't know about it. Thank goodness not everyone associates red lipstick with that, only if you're from New York, I guess!

Mind vs Matter=Literally

This dates from October 10th, 2012--An epiphany while running....

(I've been trying to make-up for my lack of blogging the year of 2012....)

 

Running. Living; both Progressive Verbs.

Oil. Water; both nouns.

Running from pain and trials and then having to live in them --both possible realities we choose.

I just spent 10 minutes running on the treadmill at 7.0 speed. It's a short time but after 5 minutes of running I just wanted to turn off the machine and go back to the Lazy Boy watching As Good As It Gets. Then, I thought about oil and water...



The oil and water cannot mix. They don't like each other? Maybe sometimes they like to pretend one or the other is not there (yes, personification!). We do that, don't we? That problematic oil is not there...Trials and Running away from them..... or ...having trials and living life in amidst of them.

If I gave up before my goal was reached (10 minutes of torture)...something so simple...then what else would I forfeit to?

What about you? What would you forfeit to?