do’ vorrei andare...

MAY 5, 2008 entry taken from my previous blog

Recently, a good friend of mine sent out some photos of her new beautiful belly. No, she's not some psycho who is proud of being fat, but she is pregnant. She's absolutely too cute to boot in her temp body and it got me to thinking about some things. Two things that really struck a chord in me were: 

"...Do I recommend it? Without a doubt, though I think it's important to get all of your SELFISH DESIRES out of the way. I am very glad that I waited until later in life to begin my family because everything in life has become about the baby. So that fabulous VACATION to Costa Rica, Peru, Europe, Vegas etc. don't put it off. Do it now and enjoy it."

Another friend who got me thinking about this stuff was "J" who awhile back was hospitalized for meningitis. It was some scary shit for him, but his whole thing was "the world is worth exploring and life is too short to be strapped behind a desk." I was just in awe that he's following his motto or whatever you call it.

Then there was the Italian who came to dinner. Gianluca, had spent all this time in Mexico and then came to Austin with his street performance group. While they were here, they spent the whole time couch surfing. 

And yet another friend who I envy is Vato who in this past year took off to Mexico for a good 2 months, came home, went back and came back into the US on the West Coast went to the East Coast and came back and has now uprooted from Austin and is in Buffalo, NY. 

To put it plain and simple, I want to be that person. I want to be the person who just takes off con el viento. I don't want to be the person who has to prepare for a trip 6-12 months before. Unfortunately, I'm not that kind of person and I have all the places that I want to visit before I have children.

1. San Felipe, MX

2. Costa Rica

3. Macchu Picchu, Peru

4. Cozumel, MX...we're visiting the temples 

5. Dubai, UAE

6. the Alps, dunno which country though

7. Flagstaff, AZ..."Let's go skiing!"

8. Australia...once John and Kori get there

9. Buffalo, NY

10. Lund, Sweden...so close, yet so far

11. San Juan, Puerto Rico

12. IRELAND! If Mamma Rita can go, why can't I?

13. Bhutan, Russia, Greece, Turkey...these places would be kick ass to visit if I get the chance to.

And of course, ya'll know I want to visit the new Republik of Kosova but may have to wait till I can afford to adopt a child.

discriminazione di età

APRIL 2, 2008 entry taken from my previous blog

I look young; I know it. It’s never really bothered me. In fact, when I first started working at Brookside, the UPS man came up to the check-in window with a package, looked at me and said in an authoritative voice, "I’m gonna need someone 18 or older to sign for this." My smile turned into a pout and I said, "I’m 23." He said, "oh."

Like I said, it’s never truly bothered me becos it doesn’t happen often that people will question my education, experience, or other credentials. But when it does occur, it’s enough to ruin the whole day. 

I’m not the kind of person to linger on unpleasantries too long; however, my recent run in with an ageist left me a little upset.

One of my darling coworkers decided to schedule an "options counseling" and guess who got stuck with Little Mary Sunshine? Yours truly.

I had the pleasure of speaking with her and her spouse and her main concern was how to deal with feelings of sadness or depression. I told her that if she needed long-term help, I could provide her with resources. She paused and said, "If I needed phone numbers for psychiatrists or other counselors, I can do that on my own. I’m asking you what should I do." And she was rather rude about this. I toughened up and flat out said, "You came in here to find out what your options are, I WILL NOT make your decision for you."

The lady and her husband began to ask me questions about procedures and I answered them with ease. It wasn’t anything that couldn’t be answered over the phone. The lady was concerned about risks with her procedure and I addressed them and even informed her about additional risks regarding obstetrical history. She seemed kind of closed off, but was still asking good questions. Towards the end our discussion, I asked the lady if she was interested in an examination/scan by one of the nurses and the lady decided she would prefer it.

PERFECT! Get outta my face, Get Outta My Face, GET OUTTA MY FACE!

As I approached the front desk, I said, "I don’t ever want to speak to that lady again!" Something just didn’t sit right.

After lunch, Ann approached me and asked how I was doing. I told her I was fine up until the point that I had to talk to that lady. She then told me that as the patient was leaving she said, "I feel sooooo much better after having talked to you." Now, becos I love to joke about race, you would assume that I would be rash to say it was fueled by the fact that Ann is white and well, I am not. But that wasn’t even the case, Ann is older and has more "life experience" than I do; however, I gave that lady all the correct answers. Ann even confirmed that during her "session" with this nut job, the lady would ask a question, Ann would answer it, and the lady’s husband would say, "That’s what the counselor told you. You already asked that question." Ann said that this happened for every question the lady asked.

That upset me simply becos I’m a confident, educated, professional, young woman who was completely discriminated against becos I’m not 40/50-years-old. I understand that with age comes wisdom, but this lady was 40-years-old and was still acting like a child. I wanted to take her face in my hands and shake some sense into her. I would have offered for another counselor to speak with her, but the other gals are even younger than I am. I wanted to scream at her, "Guess What! Other 40/50-year-old women don’t want to deal with your shit! They don’t want to talk to you about your vagina issues! They have better things to do!" 

After the initial frustration, I tried to joke about it. But it just got to me, ya know? I’ve come across plenty of ageist, but this one just stuck with me. I guess most other times I have no validation from other observers; however, this time I had proof and two parties who could account for the discrimination. 

Ugh, I guess I just had to get this out. 

* the term "lady" is used very loosely in my article.

le donne di Kosova

MARCH 28, 2008 entry taken from my previous blog

The other evening I attended the Vagina Monologues at my old alma mater. This was my second year to attend the event and I have to say I was looking forward to it. My BFF and her sister are truly passionate about women’s rights and how to prevent violence against women, so the Vagina Monologues were right up their alley.

I remembered the majority of monologues, but there was one that made me cry last year and got me bawling this year. As you may have noticed, I have a great respect and interest in Kosova. I have had the great pleasure of meeting people from this now independent country and have been even more fortunate to have these people share their stories. Now this next story is extremely sad in my eyes, but it depicts some of the horrific experiences women have had to experience…especially in times of war.

So this is dedicated to the brave women of Kosova…

My vagina was my village

An extract from Eve Enlser’s Vagina Monologues

My vagina was green, water soft pink fields, cow mooing, sun resting, sweet boyfriend touching lightly with soft piece of blonde straw.

There is something between my legs. I do not know what it is. I do not know where it is. I do not touch. Not now. Not anymore. Not since.

My vagina was chatty, can’t wait, so much, so much saying words talking, can’t quit trying, can’t quit saying, oh yes, oh yes.

Not since I dream there’s a dead animal sewn in down there with thick black fishing line. And the bad dead animal smell cannot be removed. And its throat is slit and it bleeds through all my summer dresses.

My vagina singing all girl songs, all goat bell ringing songs, all wild autumn field songs, vagina songs, vagina home songs.

Not since the soldiers put a long thick rifle inside me. So cold, the steel rod cancelling my heart. Don’t know whether they’re going to fire it or shove it through my spinning brain. Six of them, monstrous doctors with black masks shoving bottles up me too. There were sticks and the end of a broom.

My vagina swimming river water, clean spilling water over sun-baked stones, over stone clit, clit stones over and over.

Not since I heard the skin tear and made lemon screeching sounds, not since a piece of my vagina came off in my hand, a part of the lip, now one side of the lip is completely gone.

My vagina. A live wet water village. My vagina my hometown.

Not since they took turns for seven days smelling like faeces and smoked meat, they left their dirty sperm inside me. I became a river of poison and puss and all the crops died, and the fish.

My vagina a live wet water village.

They invaded it. Butchered it

And burned it down.

I do not touch now.

Do not visit.

I live some place else now.

I don’t know where that is.

le mie avventure in H.E.B.

JANUARY 28, 2008 entry taken from my previous blog

My household was in dire need of groceries and as much as I hate crowded areas; I love my H.E.B. It's ethnic, there are people that look just like me and there are people that stick out like sore thumbs. Folks either approach me speaking Spanish and others in English. As you venture in the place, you have your produce and bread on the right, the frozen foods towards the middle left and random, non-food products on the left. The meat section covers the backside while the seafood area is barely noticeable.

Most of the time, I make my way around at a leisurely pace tuned into my iPod. Today's choice of music was Oasis becos I was feeling nostalgic. There was nothing out of the ordinary today. There was an African American lady who kept on swatting around her face in the baking area. She was trying to get away from a moth and we chuckled together becos she realized how crazy she looked. Then in the alcohol aisle I spent a good while trying to pick a decent red and white. Well, in the midst of this, an older man was doing the same and at the check out line, we discussed our picks. I mentioned that I wanted the Coppola Rosso & Bianco, becos I absolutely love his red, but it's $15 and this one was only $7. It's a steal.

Well, after seeing that other lines were shorter, one of the staff members moved me to another line and I met an unhappy lady. First off, there was a crackhead who dragged the cashier to the tobacco wall to get some snuff. When they came back, he scanned it at $3.99 and the crackhead only had $.69. WTF???!!?!?!?! How are you gonna go to the store without enough money? He was nice enough to purchase the rest of it for her. Meanwhile the grumpy lady is talking to me in Spanish and saying, "He's taking too long." I smiled back and said, "At this time of the day, I expect to have a wait." She just frowned and said, "No, he's taking too long."

Ugh…

So that lady left and it was my turn. I smiled, made small talk, and tried to put out some positive energy to make up for that negative woman. Once we were done, both the cashier and bagging person asked if I needed help to the car. "I'm fine. I got it," I said. That's when the guy bagging my groceries looked me straight in the eye and said, "I just had to say you have such a beautiful smile."

I blushed.

"And you have pretty eyes, too."

I'm sure I turned red. But I said "thank you" and walked to my car.

It was a good day and that comment made it even greater. So I came home and cooked penne pasta with alfredo sauce mixed w/ ground beef and spinach. We enjoyed salad and a nice little dessert concoction of cake, vanilla ice cream, and a berry mix with whipped cream on top. I was feeling extremely productive today.

nei suoi occhi

SEPTEMBER 11, 2007 entry taken from my previous blog

"Ugh, there's no parking," she sighed. She was wondering why there were so many people, when usually it was rather calm at this time. She drove around the block and eventually found a spot near the library. With picnic and blanket in hand, she proceeded to the park eyeing the perfect spot.

It was one of those moments where you see what you want and hope no one else has noticed your discovery. The kind of moment where the closer you get, the more you envision someone else swooping in and stealing your desire. Okay, maybe that's too psychotic, but someone out there understands that feeling.

Things were going well; low humidity, nice breeze, a sense of excitement in the air. The conductor stepped up to announce the evening's pieces. Today's show consisted of the audience's big band picks. This evening proved to be promising.

The show kicked off with a timeless crowd pleaser, In the Mood as recorded by the Glenn Miller Orchestra followed by String of Pearls.

Still no sign of him.

By now she was trying her hardest to focus on the music; but in the back of her mind she was kicking herself for getting her hopes up. It was too good to be true. Was he really planning on showing up or had he backed out? Did he in fact show up and discover that he wasn't too keen on what he saw?

"He's not coming," she thought to herself. She could feel her level of self confidence quickly diminish as Here's That Rainy Day began to play. What is it about that trumpet that helps put things into perspective? Or maybe it's the sultry voice of the singer, executing each not to perfection. The emotions of that song were so real, one could touch them. And yet, it obviously was interpreted differently by the different groups of people at the park. You have your couples in love, your new families enjoying the classics, your swingin' singles enjoying the people watching, the college kids who need extra credit, and…her.

Niente. Nulla.

Alone, silent and becoming more and more discouraged with each note, she popped open the basket. She sighed, "Well there's no sense in lettin' this go to waste." How else can one enjoy Begin the Beguine than with a salad that would have looked sadder had she waited any longer? But then the music started picking up and the classic 1930's piece filled the air with a fabulous drum beat. Sing, Sing, Sing (With a Swing) by Louis Prima sure helped to pick her spirits up and put a little bounce in her mood. And I just have to say that that's the glory of music…it can pick you up when you're down. A minute and a half into the song, the drums caused her hands to mimic their beat and her shoulders to sway from side to side. For those brief five minutes, she was lost in the past. During days where mostly everything seemed less complicated than today's world.

She envisioned herself in a dimly lit dancehall with paper stars hanging down from the ceiling and Christmas lights decorating every inch. The band was clearly visible on the stage and in hearing the music she couldn't help but get excited. What must it have been like to experience history in the making? She pictured seeing the people around her get up and create a whole new genre of dance and moves to fuel the emotion met through this song. A new era of music was being born and transformed before her eyes. And even if it was just a fantasy, she couldn't help but deny this beautiful scent that enveloped her.

"I must have a truly great imagination," she thought. She was transported to a wonderful time in music. And that's when Tommy Dorsey's I'm Gettin' Sentimental Over You began to play.

In opening her eyes, she discovered the source of the scent and a hand asking for hers.

She was shocked!

She was surprised and in looking for an answer…

she found it in his eyes.

She grabbed his hand, he smiled that familiar smile, and he escorted her to the grassy dance floor. Not a word was said between the pair, but they danced heart to heart with an occasional twirl. They stared into each other's eyes intensely and she could tell he was apologizing for being late.

Come Fly With Me played and the dancing didn't stop there.

"Hi, I'm Albert. I never expected ime zemra to be so beautiful. Forgive me, zemër?"

"Po, Of course. You're finally here, what else could I ask for?"

They didn't need complicated words to fill their conversation. Years of communication had brought them to this point. This was the moment they were waiting for. To finally have the chance to hold on to the one they had been dreaming about. It was pure luck that his work had him visit Austin for the weekend becos Lord knows she had been trying to save for a flight to Lund.

He leaned in and softly sang in her ear:

"…That's why darling, it's incredible

that someone so unforgettable

thinks that I am

unforgettable too."

They kissed and her heart beat so fast, she knew this is what she wanted. The thought of him slipping through her fingers was intangible. How could she go about her normal routine after having introduced him into the equation? It would be near impossible, but these are the sacrifices one sometimes makes.

They continued talking that evening, well into the wee hours of the morning. This dream was near its end, and the mood amongst them grew somber.

"I have to finish packing, zemra."

"e di," she sighed.

After saying their farewells, he reminded her that this was only the beginning and there was definitely more to come. She sensed he spoke the truth becos she saw it in his eyes. But of course you can only imagine that the drive between his hotel and her house was the longest drive ever. Funny, but it seemed to be longer than the trip between Texas and Sweden. Filled with such heaviness, she didn't know what to do but cry.

____________________________

It was difficult to drive through her tears and her heart breaking. But as she drove up, there was a bouquet on her doorstep filled with gerberas, roses, and button mums. And tucked neatly away was an envelope addressed to her. The card simply read…

të dua shumë zemra ime

and behind that a one-way ticket with her name on it.

She frantically dialed the hotel.

"Room 625…please be there, please be there, please be there…" she muttered.

The phone continued to ring in his room.

"Po?"

"edhe unë ty!"

TAG!

SEPTEMBER 7, 2007 entry taken from my previous blog

TAG! You're It! (myspace blog game)

RULES OF THE GAME:
1. Each player starts with 8 random facts/habits about themselves.
2. People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their 8 things and post these rules.
3. At the end of your blog, you need to choose 8 people to get tagged and list their names.
4. Don't forget to leave them a comment telling them they are tagged and to read your blog.

These are eight facts about me:

1. I speak English, Italian, Spanish, and Portuguese...PLUS, I'm learning Albanian (Shqip)

2. I HATE talking on my cell phone.

3. I have a devout fear of drowning/suffocating.

4. I once laughed so hard in my sleep, that I woke up myself and my mom in the next room.

5. I used to hate thick Spanish accents when speaking English so much that I would fantasize about kicking them in the head...i.e. my cousin's ex BF

6. I lettered in Golf.

7. I've had my yahoo account since 1998 thanks to my English teacher, Mrs. Bates.

8. I'm scared to visit Scandinavian countries for fear of Neo-Nazis.

le lacrime hanno scorso

AUGUST 15, 2007 entry taken from my previous blog

AUGUST 2006 - Let's see…it was a little over a year ago that Nani called and asked to take me out on the town for my birthday (a week after the actual day). Hey, is it too much to ask for your own sister to remember your birthday? I didn't mind it, after all this would be a night of barhopping with my big sis.

The big day arrived and lo and behold, Nani shows up in sweats. I figured she was gonna get ready at the apartment and then we'd head downtown. WRONG! Her main purpose for visiting was not the fun she so promised. On the contrary, it was to tell me that mum and pops were getting divorced. That memory will forever live on in my mind and no matter how hard I try to ignore the reality, it's evident that we're no longer a family.

I decided to call my folks and confirm the details and sure enough they were true. Mum and Pops felt it better to have my sister tell me as opposed to face me themselves. It was only a day later that my denial disappeared and the tears flowed.

SEPTEMBER 2006 - I called to see how my folks were doing on their "anniversary." The two psychos decided to celebrate their 35th anniversary becos "technically, we're still married" was their excuse.

For the life of me, I couldn't figure them out. They were divorcing and the best of friends. Mum decided to move out of the house and Pops bought her a new TV to christen her new place. Mum also found enough time to cook an occasional meal for Pops and help him tidy up the place. Years of memories these two shared and a strong bond forged amongst them.

But how do a 25 and 34 year old get over their parents divorcing? It's not as though it was an abusive relationship. No physical, no mental, no emotional abuse. No hard feelings, but our parents expressed a long for the pursuit of happiness. And it begs the question, "Where was the happiness before?" Was it non-existent? Was it a different type of happiness? What was it?

I saw my parents' marriage as a template for my own marriage. I was to follow their same plan to fortify that I could one day achieve 35+ years of marriage with my spouse; but for what purpose? This situation left more questions than answers and the questions keep on multiplying.

NOVEMBER 2006 - My sister made it clear that my brother-in-law did not want to host Thanksgiving, Pops wasn't sure what his plans were, and Mum wanted to spend it with her mother. I didn't see the point in going home, so I didn't. Yet, that evening I decided to call to my sister's house only to find out that both Mum and Pops had stopped by and they were enjoying their holiday. I was jealous. I was sad. I was confused. I was angry. But most of all, I wanted to be sitting in my sister's house, seeing Pops passed out in front of the big screen watching old westerns, discussing life w/ my Mum and Nani, and catching up w/ my nieces. But I was miles away and unable to join them…and the tears flowed.

DECEMBER 2006 – The divorce was final and no one told me anything. I only found out after my mother said that she had started seeing someone new. It raised questions and as far as I know, she met Phil after the divorce.

________________________

I'm scared to go home. I can't bring myself to go back there. The furthest I get is to my sister's house in Creekwood. The last time I went to that God forsaken town was when my bestfriend got married in Uvalde, in 2005. I have no need to go back there. There is absolutely nothing waiting for me there…only Mum and Pops. Why would I want to visit my house if my Mum isn't there? Why would I want to visit her new place if my Pops isn't there? It's not the same and as much as I want to forget all of this, my heart aches from heartbreak and anxiety becos there is not a damn thing I can do to remedy the situation.

The terms of the divorce are absolutely ridiculous and should never have been agreed upon. The very thought that my Pops will have to sell the house that he's slaved over his entire life to pay my mother her half. Don't get me wrong, I love my Mum, but had the situation been reversed I would have these same feelings if my Mum had to sell the house to compensate for the half. Becos of the agreement, my Pops has to pay my Mum 50% of the buying price becos my Mum is "selling" her half to my Pops so that he can stay there. That house is not worth what it used to be. My Pop's dream was to buy a house, pay it off, grow old, and enjoy his years. My Pops can't afford and I definitely can't afford it w/ my new mortgage. So he must sell the house. I now realize that my folks threw away 20yrs worth of paychecks, they must now start paying "rent", move to the city to be closer to work, and the cycle continues. No rest, must work to get by and pay bills and rent. That work was supposed to be over for them and sadly it's starting over.

Fast forward to the present. I finished talking w/ my sister who is waiting for my brother-in-law to get served. She tells me that Mum had come over to her house and was more than upset becos Pops told her not to come over to the house anymore and to give him back the key, too. We think Pops is seeing a lady from work who is also rumored to be a Jehovah's Witness, and maybe this lady is uneasy about the friendship my folks have. Frankly, I'm not happy about Pop's lady friend. I think of myself as a pretty open-minded person, but I'm not happy about the lady's religion. I don't agree with it when it affects my family. I don't want her to date my father. I don't want her to join my family becos then she will have final sayso over his health. After the whole Selena scandal, I think it's safe to say that if my father needed a blood transfusion I WOULD NOT DENY him one. We have the technology, let's use it PEOPLE!

I was furious at the news my sister had and decided to call my father. Our conversation was normal and nothing was resolved. There was no conflict there. And when I asked when was a good time to visit, he said "anytime, your mom has the key so if I'm not here, she can let you in."

So since there was no drama there, I called my Mum and she was fine. She didn't mention a single thing about the key. But she brought up the fact that the last time she was at Pop's that she saw an invitation announcing a birthday party for my father, my late grandmother, and another aunt on his side. Okay, I understand if my mother wasn't invited, but we're his daughters! Where's my invite? Why am I soooooooo mad? I don't even like Pop's family! I hate all of them except for my Tio Nene and my Tia Rosi.

It's my own damn fault. I've isolated myself from that world. I left that world and never looked back. I don't even talk to my Mum's side of the family, but I have no hard feelings there. I'm content w/ my life in Austin. And I've realized that the only reason I don't talk to my immediate family as much as I used to is becos it makes me sad. In my mind I see my parents in their house, sharing their dinners and growing old together. I see them doing everyday things together and now that's gone. I can't come to terms that they are seeing other people and that they're probably doing those very things I listed, but with other people. I can't get over it and it makes me sad and I choose to ignore that part of my life. I choose to live in Austin, I choose to not call home every other day or every week for that matter. I choose to not cry. I choose to not dwell on the house crisis. I choose to be ignorant of the ongoing dilemma. Ignorance is bliss or else the tears flow. And through all of this, my zemër lies halfway across the world.

If you even get half way through these ramblings…thank you. I don't know how else to get my frustrations out. I tried to guide the events, but the last page is chaotic.

una volta

JUNE 17, 2007 entry taken from my previous blog

Last night, I went to watch "Once" at the Arbor. This movie stars Glen Hansard of The Frames, and follows a musician (The Guy) just trying to make his dream a reality while picking up the pieces of a failed relationship. He unexpectedly develops a friendship w/ a Czech immigrant (The Girl) who is trying to support her family in Dublin.

The two share a passion for music and collaborate on several pieces written by "the Guy". Weaving in piano and female vocals breathes new life to these songs and the duo decides to record the songs for a demo. After all, it's "the Guy's" plan to move to London and pursue love and his dream.

The friendship develops into something more, but it seems undefinable. You sense the love that they have built for each other and find it to be an unconditional love. A true love w/o expectations of one another.

___________________________________

I admit, the movie sounds cheesy, but it exceeded my expectations. I would recommend people get out and watch this movie. The music and the story are magical and you seem to lose yourself. So, if you're in the mood for a good love story, check out Once.

http://www.oncethemovie.com
http://www.myspace.com/oncethemovie
http://www.myspace.com/oncesoundtrack
http://www.myspace.com/theswellseason

pioggia

JUNE 14, 2007 entry taken from my previous blog

It was the kind of day that makes you wanna neglect all responsibilites, hit the park, and just gaze into the sky.

I find myself doing that alot. No, not skipping work, but wanting to just take off. Luckily, my office has a very nice, tranquil spot away from all the huh-bub. You can always find me here, listening to my iPod and enjoying the nature around.

Friday was one of those days; an absolutely beautiful day...except for the humidity. The sun was shining one minute and then it became gray and dark. I heard one of my coworkers mention that there was rain coming in from the north, but I didn't think it would hit Austin that soon. I noticed some droplets fall next to me, but decided to stick around and enjoy the relief from the heat.

In just a blink of an eye, the clouds parted once more and the sun popped out. I looked up into the sky and could see the droplets of water floating down to meet me. I'd never seen this before; either it's raining too hard or I just never cared to notice. Each drop seemed to have a partner as it fell from the sky and they danced, too. They twirled around, swayed back and forth; very beautifully orchestrated. The slightest breeze simply threw the pairs off course. It was breathtaking and made me appreciate what an amazing thing Mother Nature is and yet so simple.

It was a brief moment, but all seemed to be right in the world.

casa mia

MARCH 6, 2007 entry taken from my previous blog

It's mine! Closing day is March 22nd and lemme tell ya, I've waited patiently for this. I'm both scared and excited. It's a big responsibility and I feel I'm ready. I was a little hesitant at first, but I know that I have the full support of my family and my friends.

The thought of having a place to call my own brings about mixed feelings. I'm tied down now, so what if I wanna up and leave? Now I can start thinking about puppies and babies...a life...but hopefully not all at one time.

petrarca

February 20, 2007 entry taken from my previous blog

XXI
Mille fiate, o dolce mia guerrera,
Per aver co'begli occhi vostri pace,
V'aggio profferto il cor; ma a voi non piace
Mirar sí basso con la mente altera:
E se di lui fors'altra donna spera,
Vive in speranza debile e fallace:
Mio, perchè sdegno ciò ch'a voi dispiace,
Esser non può giammai così com'era.

Or s'io lo scaccio, ed e' non trova in voi
Nell'esilio infelice alcun soccorso,
Nè sa star sol, nè gire ov'altri' l chiama
Poria smarrire il suo natural corso;
Che grave colpa fia d'ambeduo noi,
E tanto più di voi, quanto più v'ama.
~Francesco Petrarca (1304-1374) Canzoniere (c. 1327)

_____________________________________________

This sonnet is a prime example of Francesco Petrarca's undying love for a mystery woman named Laura. There have been many questions left unanswered over this female figure with whom Petrarca was madly infatuated. For example, was Laura a real person or someone thought up to pose as his muse? Well, according to facts, Laura de Noves of Avignon did indeed exist and passed away in 1348 due to the plague (Britannica), but because there are no certain clues about the woman in Petrarca's work, other Laura's have been suggested. Also, her existence inspired Petrarca for over twenty years in which he wrote numerous pieces and tributes.

"Mille fiate" is absolutely breathtaking in my opinion. Also, it rings true to his feelings for a woman he may never have had contact with. To admire someone from afar it must have been difficult to ignore those feelings of disappointment and being looked over. To know that your heart longs to be with only one person and that one person has the power to fix a problem they have no idea exists.

perso

February 10, 2007 entry taken from my previous blog

How is this possible?

While driving around different neighborhoods, I came across this strange sign. From a distance I could only read LOST: Great Dane. I'm super near-sighted, so of course I had the sudden urge to move in closer. I was completely baffled how anyone could lose a great dane. I mean these animals are HUgE, majestic, demand aTteNtiOn, and let's face it, they're a little intimidating. (atleast to me they are; I'm only 5'1")

So as I get closer to the sign, I can make out more of what it says: "TWO Black Male".

Were my eyes deceiving me? Was I dreaming? Was there really an individual in this world that could lose not 1, but 2 black Great DANES???

Now I'm not claiming to be the smartest person in the world...but come on. I'm just hoping this person doesn't have kids!!!

l'amore cos'è?

JANUARY 31, 2007 entry taken from my previous blog

The other night I was flippin' through channels and came across The Hills on MTV. This show is a spin off of Laguna Beach w/ the original character LC. Now, I have to admit that sometimes I get caught up in their drama. Why? Becos it's made for TV and it's my guilty pleasure. (along w/ I ? New York) Anyway, there was a scene where this guy takes LC to his condo and they're out on his balcony and he simply whispers,

"There's nowhere in the world that I'd rather be than right here with you."

There was a part of me that thought "Awwww, how sweet." While the other part of me thought "That's such bullshit, do guys really think like this? or is he just saying it becos the cameras are on?" So it got me to thinking...

"What is Love?"

I want to know. It should be a simple answer, right? Why does it make one so crazy? What is it about another person that makes us all googly-eyed and seem like we're floating on air? Have you ever been so caught up in someone that you lose track of who you are? That can't be healthy, right? And why is it that we always want what we can't have? Or why we want different things at the same time? Why? Why is it that musicians write these beautiful love songs and give us false hope of believing that such a Love exists? For example, Edwin McCain's I Could Not Ask For More or Daniel Beddingfield's If You're Not the One. I mean there are different levels of Love. But which one is right for me?

I used to think that I wanted a Love where I knew I couldn't live without that person. Somehow, that would let me know that he was right for me. But the more I think about it now, the more it scares me to think that if this one person isn't in my life…then life isn't worth living? That can't be right. Does my life have less value if the person I can't live without isn't there? Obviously, life feels great/better with that person around.

buon anno

JANUARY 4, 2007 entry taken from my previous blog

New Year’s Eve got off to a rocky start. As usual, it took me longer than anticipated to get ready, but once we left it was smooth sailing…or so I thought. Now being that I was in a hurry, I decided to take Mopac down to Cesar Chavez, but little did I know that street was closed due to the festivities. So I had to turn around and get onto S. Lamar only to have my “low fuel” light sound off like a four fire alarm. Luckily, there was a gas station not too far down the road near Barton Springs.

After gassing up and getting situated, we finally get to Lisa’s house and begin consuming a moderate amount of food and drinks. It wasn’t too happening there, so we took off to my friend Donato’s house. Now, I’ve been to Donny’s New Year’s Eve bash for the past 3 yrs and I always have fun. This year was no different and I hate to admit it, but this year’s party was the best of them so far…atleast for me it was.

The invite read:

“Menudo & margaritas. Musicians, feel free to bring your instruments. Partiers, feel free to bring your party. Comelones, feel free to bring your appetite. Borrachos/as, feel free to b.y.o.b.........”

The minute I walked through the door, Donato beckons for me to come over to where he’s standing. He says, “Hey baby, glad you could make it. Go sing us a little song.” I was stunned and didn’t know what the crowd wanted to hear, so Donny suggests Crazy by the late great Ms. Patsy Cline. So I ask the band to play and I belt out Crazy as best as I can. The crowd was very kind and showered me w/ compliments afterwards, but one gentleman in particular felt the need to stroke my ego for a good half hour. (one of the most attractive 57yr old men I’ve ever met!) Now who am I to back down from a compliment? So of course I let the man sing his praises.

We continued to party well past the New Year, and then the music got interesting. This other man, whom I didn’t catch his name, busts out playing beautiful classical guitar. He says, “Let’s play this, but watch me becos it’s gonna pick up.” He begins playing Do You Want To Know A Secret? by the Beatles and my jaw hits the floor. Well into the piece he drops a tropical/salsa style into the song which just compliments the party soooooooooo well. I jumped in w/ the little egg shaker and the whole room was totally feeling it. My friend Mario joined in on bongos and the accordionist just let it rip during a mini solo. The whole place was alive w/ a tropical sound and the Beatles. I know this sounds like the craziest mix, but it worked well that night. The music got better and better and I ended my set with Amor Eterno which was a good somber song for me to end on.

All are extremely gifted musicians, but then again I have to say that about Mario becos I think the world of this guy. It seems as though we connect on so many different levels including music and I enjoy the time we spend w/ each other. He’s the only one that seems to get that one lone pitch of a minor chord can send me to tears if it’s in the right progression. OR that you can see music in wave patterns and different colors w/o ever seeing it on a computer screen. OR that you can be instantly transported through time w/ a simple intro of a song. And that making your own guitar/trumpet solo impersonations are absolutely necessary when expressing your love for a song. This guy gets it and that’s why I’m glad he’s in my life.

And as cheesy as it sounds I felt the need to express how appreciative I was to be standing in the same room w/ such talented individuals. It was a breath of fresh air to “jam” w/ people who know what they’re doing. Plus, I got picked up for vocals at future gigs w/ some of these people, so of course I’m super excited!

Hope ya’ll enjoyed your New Year’s Eve as much as I did. Good luck to all in 2007!

il mio cuore II

Taken outside at work during my lunch break. December 2006.

innamorata di LOVE e 4 uomini

DECEMBER 12, 2006 entry taken from my previous blog

“Listen…ooh ah ooh…Do you want to know a secret?” is what he played strumming his sunburst hummingbird acoustic. I would just sit back and listen to dad’s slower doo-wop version of the Beatles song as a young child. In fact it’s one of my earlier memories as a child and my first memory of music. Dad would sing this to me while practicing guitar or just goofing around. And as I got older, I discovered my true passion was in music and one of my first loves of this international/intergalactic language was the Beatles.

In a www.beatles.com interview with George and Giles Martin, they described the album as trying to summarize the history of the Beatles music within one album. As most people know this feat is damn near impossible, but these men sure did do their best.

The album opens with an acappella version of Because with the sound of birds chirping in the background. It then moves on to Get Back where you can automatically recognize A Hard Day’s Night intro note and A Day in the Life’s orchestral movement. You can tell that most of the songs on LOVE have bits and pieces pulled in from different songs of different times. For example, Glass Onion has the Penny Lane piccolo trumpet and on Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite! you hear the killer vocals from Helter Skelter mixed in which makes the song a little edgier and darker.

One of my favorite songs on the album is the snippet of Gnik Nus which is Sun King backwards. I wish they would have left the Italian lyrics in the song, but as the song fades it makes for a wonderful transition into Something.

Another set of great transitions between songs includes the Blackbird intro that mellows into Yesterday and the mix of Eleanor Rigby which fades beautifully into Julia. And who could forget about A Day in the Life? This is definitely a treat with Lennon counting off the song to “sugarplum fairy, sugarplum fairy.”

Although I may have picked some different pieces, the Martins’ compilation and remixes of Beatles trax make LOVE a special album. I can honestly say that in listening to the trax of LOVE that I’m taken on a little trip from start to finish of the Beatles career.

il mio cuore

Taken at Herman Park in Houston, Texas. November 2006. I think this is one of my personal favorites.

il giorno dei morti

OCTOBER 30, 2006 entry taken from my previous blog

The streets were filled w/ the faces of death; young and old. Yet this wasn't a scene out of a movie, nor was it another one of my nightmares. In fact, the Austin community gathered to help celebrate the Day of the Dead.

Saturday, October 28,2006, Mexic-Arte museum held its 23rd annual "Día de los Muertos" parade and street festival. If you can just imagine a sea full of esqueletos y calaveras dancing their cares away in the street. People came dressed as La Catrina, rockeros, caballeros, brujas, esqueletos, fútbolers, you name it and they were there. Yours truly had the opportunity to walk the parade to help promote my upcoming show called La Pastorela. I wanted to portray a positive message w/ my face so I had one of the girls write "corazón" on my forehead. My cast mates and I dressed up as shepherds, angels and devils w/ painted faces and joined the group of parade goers. The parade route began at Plaza Saltillo then headed one block north to 6th Street then west to Congress Avenue. Once at Congress we headed south to Mexic Arte and enjoyed the Aztec dancers and exhibits geared towards educating the public about this celebration.

The Day of the Dead, or Día de los Muertos, is a celebration held on November 1st and 2nd to remember our loved ones who have passed away. This tradition is celebrated by many Latino cultures but seems to be more popular in Mexico. The day consists of decorating churches, homes, altars, cemeteries in colorful flowers, candles and papel picado. Family members also bring ofrendas to their loved one's gravesite which sometimes include pan dulce, velas, favorite food dishes in life, monedas, flores and trinkets. Each of these serves a purpose in our loved one's journey to visit w/ us for that night. The tradition isn't as morbid as it seems; on the contrary, it's a celebration that allows us to reconnect w/ those lost and appreciate the family around us.

The most exciting thing for me was seeing the nostalgic cars, the puppeteers w/ their ginormous puppets, the Chihuahuas, and the different people who gathered for this event. You would think that just the Mexicanos were out and about celebrating, but you're wrong. The crowd consisted of Mexicanos, Cubanos, Puerto Riqueños, Anglos, Colombianos, African Americans, Argentinos, Asians, the list goes on and on. But out of all of this the most beautiful thing I saw were the children, who were clearly not Latino, taking part in an event such as this.

It makes me happy to know that these parents are trying to expose their children to other cultures and teach them the importance of understanding one another. Its one thing to know about other groups of people, but it means so much more to understand their traditions and history. So I applaud those parents and their efforts to create a more open-minded society in the next generation. Lemme tell ya, it's a sad thing to see people who fear other groups becos of their color, their language, or their appearance. Maybe "fear" is the wrong word, but hate stems from ignorance which feeds off of the fear of not knowing.

If you're interested in learning more about this tradition, please visit:

http://www.dayofthedead.com
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Day_of_the_Dead
http://www.azcentral.com/ent/dead

l'apocalisse

OCTOBER 25, 2006 entry taken from my previous blog

I had left the house w/ intentions of getting the mail before my folks had awakened. It's early morning and the sun still hasn't come up yet. I'm jogging down Lavaca St and can see my breath materializing in front of me. As I near the lake, I notice a big group of college kids gathered outside a movies/special effects office. The bldg has a platform just outside the entrance which is composed of tall windows. That is where most of the kids are standing. There is also a blue van w/ the back doors open wide. The kids are arguing about who gets to "hide" inside the office. Apparently the kids on the platform have already staked out their territory and have no room available for the new kids. At that moment, a series of cars come racing by and turn down 1st Street towards IH 35. You can feel it coming, but you don't know what it is. It's something that strikes fear in everyone and you feel compelled to hide.

My name is Molly and one of the kids calls me over.

"If you want, you can come inside Molly. You too Brett. We saved a spot." I still haven't made it to the Post Office, but something tells me it's not important anymore. In the mix of things, I remember I never said goodbye to my folks. After all, I should've been back home by now.

"I'm sorry, we don't have anymore room," is what I hear one kid tell the group near the van. "But I have some pain pills if you need them....that's all I can offer ya'll." At that point a massive group of beings is seen heading in our direction. I can see my phone ringing and it's Dad. I play calm and tell him I’ll be home soon. "I can't talk right now, but I'll call you later. Love you."

At this point I've made my way inside with the others and have settled into a little nook under a sewing machine. It's an open room w/ sewing machines and movie props scattered everywhere. My spot is located along the southern wall closest to the lake with a window right next to me; I can see something staring at me. I don't think it can see me, so I slowly put down my phone and make sure the LCD screen is faced down as not to blink. I close my eyes and pray for a miracle, but they're here.

You can hear the terror in some of my friend's voices. They're being taken away and the most frightening thing is we don't know where. In fact, the not knowing is strong enough to drive a person insane. I can feel a being standing right over me. He says, "Look at all these heads, should we take one?" The other doesn't answer, but they decide to take a head anyway. I feel its hand hovering over my face and it quickly chooses the head to my left. I was lucky enough to have covered my torso w/ many objects that my head looked like one the props in the shop. One more prop head to the right and it would have found me.

I escape but I soon find out that this journey is just beginning. I'm lucky to have not been taken and yet I still find no comfort in this. As I make my way out of the office, I scan my surroundings looking for others. I'm alone and the quietness of the early morning, the stillness of the streets, makes me realize this is how it will end...

_________________________________________

I dreamt this the Sunday night I got back from Houston (22 Oct 2006). I had just gotten back from visiting Dre and this was also the day we had gone to NASA. The dream was rather long and this was the most intense scene of the whole sequence of events. I just had to get this down in writing so that I wouldn't forget. I'm pretty excited about it, but it may sound silly to you.

OK...Rewind for just a minute...Saturday evening we were sitting around watching TV before going out and we started chatting about our most frightening nightmares. I had mentioned to Dre that my most terrifying dreams always involve military takeover and seeing my family killed right in front of me. Turns out that Dre's nightmares also involve military take over.

So Fast-forward back to NASA...Well, once we were finished taking the tour, our tram cart stopped in front of 2 space shuttles. Being the flutter bug I am, I jumped off the cart and failed to listen to the guide over the intercom. Apparently, this was a "brief stop and should you decide to get off, you will need to catch a ride on the next tram in 15 mins." Dre seemed a little peeved about this being that it was cold and now we were stuck. Fortunately for us, we weren't the only idiots who had decided to jump off and explore this pit stop. Seems like our whole group was just as eager.

15 mins have come and gone and we're sitting on a bench huddled together for warmth. At this same time, the rest of our group is ever so excited about the jets turning flips and zipping through the sky. Yes, I'm amused as well, but people seem to be going out of their way to catch a glimpse of these jets. Then in the back of my mind I start to wonder, what if these were enemy planes and what would it be like to see them start picking off people? At that point I turn to Dre and bring up the whole "end-of-the-world" scenario. We start looking at our surroundings and plan out where to hide, what to do for food, and when it got right down to it Dre busted out w/ a "fend for yourself" rule. I couldn't help but think, "That's FUCKED up!" That's why I've decided to present this scenario when meeting new people. After all, I need someone reliable to get me through the Apocalypse.

il giorno perfetto

OCTOBER 20, 2006 entry taken from my previous blog

Today was looking rather good for me. I woke up at 6:30, went for a jog, got home and showered, then headed out to Wal-Mart for an oil change. Now being that I'm a broke ass, all I ended up getting was a protective covering for my iPod.

Once my vehicle was ready I drove home and got online to research how to renew my driver license. At that point I came to find out that the server was down and I was unable to renew online. I did however manage to find what I thought at the time to be helpful phone numbers for TX DPS. WRONG! I found out through the telephone system that I was ineligible for phone renewal. So I had no choice but to call the DL office for more info. I ended up holding for a good 30 mins before talking to a person, but that was only after calling 4 other numbers. AND as courteous as the gentleman on the phone was in offering the DPS website, so that I could look up all their FAQs and info on DL offices, I couldn't have cared less. Do you really think I enjoy being on hold for half an hour instead of easily connecting online??? Think about it, son. I wouldn't be calling if I had the choice of easy online access.

There was no way around it; I had to go down to the office in person. Little did I know that the DPS office takes up a whole city block. So guess where I end up parking? Yep, you guessed it...on the opposite end. I sign in, fill out my app, grab a ticket and BAM!...I see it: "We accept payment in cash, check, or money order.---No Credit Cards!" So as I turn in my app, I ask, "I'm guessing No Credit Cards applies to debit cards?" Then the receptionist starts pointing out some places w/ ATMs and throws in w/ a chuckle, "You got time. They ain't gonna be callin' your number anytime soon." As if this little experience isn't going bad enough, the first ATM I hit denies my transaction 2x which forces me to go to the next block.

I finally get back to the office, take a seat and proceed to watch Chappelle's Show on my kick ass 60 gig Video iPod for the next 2hrs. And it's always a great feeling once your number gets called. You feel like a celebrity becos everyone absolutely hates you for getting called. That's becos they know, they still have to sit in that shitty waiting room until those red lights configure their number. At that point, they gain their freedom from that uncomfortable setting.

So I walk up to Counter 5 and find a sweet older, wiser face staring back at me. She's grinning from ear to ear and I find comfort in her smile. We take a quick little vision test, I hand over my old DL and WHAM! She busts out w/ a perplexed look on her face. She motions for someone to come over and help (but no one can) and says, "There's an alarm on your record, come back in a week."

I went blank at that point. I don't really remember what happened after that.

I asked what the problem was, but she didn't know.

I asked if there's another department I needed to go to, but she didn't know.

I asked if there was a phone number to speak w/ someone about my record, but

SHE DIDN'T KNOW!

I couldn't get mad at her becos it wasn't her fault. After all, she said, "it's still okay; your DL doesn't expire till 8/4/06." I didn't have the heart to tell the senile broad that 8/4/06 had come and gone. So I walked out of there wanting to scream, but I contained it till I got to the car and blared my "Rock Out w/ Your Cock Out" playlist located conveniently on ...you guessed it...my iPod!

Once at home, I waited for Maund to get out of work and to my surprise, the boy brought over Chick-Fil-A....don't ya just love it? And then to add injury to insult, we tried to fill the Brita pitcher w/ water only to find out there was none. The water was off.

Crazy thing is Maund got so pissed that he ended up calling the leasing office 9x through the course of 2hrs. They finally called him back to say that they were working on the prob.

So lemme update you: it is now 22:06---No Water and No Driver License.

What a perfect ending to a perfect day...

la tomba sbagliata

AUGUST 1, 2005 entry taken from my previous blog

So check it...Nani called the 26 of July, apparently she needed to speak with me about Grandpa. That's means one of two things: our dad or our grandfather. It makes it easier on my nieces if we just refer to our dad as Grandpa. So obviously I immediately was on edge. She then corrected herself and said she had some news about our grandfather.

What more could happen? I mean the man is six feet under.

Apparently, my aunt and cousin decided to visit Grandpa's grave to make sure the crazy rains hadn't washed away too much of the topsoil. Low and behold, in the midst of touching up the site, my aunt noticed some plastic sticking up out of the grave. It was too heavy to move by herself and in unearthing the object, they soon discovered a dead body; not Grandpa.

Turns out the body was one Mr. Christopher Valdivia from San Antonio, TX. The 64 year-old had been suffocated by his wife and son. They wrapped him up in plastic and buried him in the freshest grave in Hondo (about 30 min west of SA). But it gets better, they had kidnapped some lady and were holding her against her will!

Of course my family is shocked and angry. I just can't help but thinking that had it not been for the Texas rain that we were so desperate for, no one would have been the wiser.

If you'd like you can check out the stories on the San Antonio Express News website. Here is the link:

http://www.mysanantonio.com/news/MYSA072605_05B_hondo_graves_d6f0efb_html32739.html

Photo taken by J. Wilson of Hondo Anvil Herald

mio nonno

JULY 14, 2005 entry taken from my previous blog

So just a month after Skecher, tragedy hit again. It was one of those late phone calls that you dread, especially from people you haven't heard from in a while. My cousin Lys called to let me know the family was gathering to bid farewell to Grandpa, Octaviano. After hanging up with her I immediately called my sister to see if she had heard anything. That's when it happened. Dad called Nani on the landline and told her Grandpa had passed.

Two or three weeks earlier, I decided to stop by Grandpa's house just to see how he was doing. He looked fine except that 5 minutes into our conversation he asks, "Y tu, como te llamas?" I was heartbroken. I was crushed and had no idea what to think. Was I really that bad of a grandchild that my grandfather couldn't even remember who I was? For all I know he could have been thinking, "okay this chick is brown, she's calling me Grandpa, she must be one of mine." After fighting back the tears and jogging his memory, he finally knew I was Amador and Eva's kid. I wanted to tell him in person that I missed talking with him and even made him promise to get better so that we could have a little dance-a-roo.

As I drove away, the tears flowed. I told myself that I would stay in contact more becos I wanted to make sure Grandpa would be around to see the landmarks one experiences during the transition from youngster to adult. So imagine my surprise when I received the late night phonecall.

Driving home Tuesday night I felt nothing. Waking up to get ready for the funeral...nothing. I looked to Dad for some sign of humanity...nothing. I don't think my Dad realizes he's an orphan now. We even grabbed breakfast right before the funeral service. Eventually got to the funeral home...still nothing. During the service I shed a tear when the reverend mentioned my grandfather playing guitar and singing praises to the Lord. I remember those days and it was a comfort to go back there even if it was just for a split second.

When we got to the cemetery we ended up in the wrong place, or so I thought. Turns out that my Grandpa's new wife (Fina) decided to have him buried somewhere other than with my Grandma, Teresa. My family is outraged by this and ...oh wait, I forgot to mention that my aunt's are not very fond of Fina. I never had a problem with her, so it's no shit to me. However, after the funeral, we surprisingly had 2 dinners planned. One was Fina and her family's dinner, the other was our family's dinner (sons and daughters of Grandpa).

Long story short, we visited Fina, she yells at us out of anger. 'Us' being Mom, Dad, and me. Mom stands up for the family, eventhough it's Dad's family, and I've never seen her get that mad. Her whole facial expression changed. Anyway, Fina feels we (Devereauxs) wronged her. Now Dad is worried she won't return Grandpa's belongings to our family since they hold tons of meaning for us.

I can only hope for the best, but lately I've found that good nature and common sense are lacking in our society.

il criceto

JUNE 10, 2005 entry taken from my previous blog

After getting home from jogging I decided to give Skecher his meds. Little did I know that I would find him near his food bowl 'sleeping'. I yelled for help, but alas, Skecher had passed. My best friend was no longer with us and a feeling of utter sadness came over me. The night Skecher passed, I cried myself to sleep. 

Skecher came into our lives on April 6, 2003 at 6 months of age. He left this earth June 9, 2005 but will remain in our hearts forever. 

Maybe this was for the best. The day before we had gone to Skecher's vet for a follow up appointment on his sticky eye. The sticky eye had cleared up but the vet noticed the significant weight gain. We had an x-ray done and long story short, the vet wanted to do a biopsy on Skecher. She had reason to believe that he wasn't just fat/obese, but that the mass in his abdomen could be cancer. And you could see that his little body was working doubly hard to do the regular things he did. We thought it was old age, but at this point, who knows. 

I loved that hamster so much, but then again who wouldn't have? Those big black eyes and tan/white fur could melt anyone's heart. But it's a relief to know that he's not hurting anymore and that's what really matters.

figlio

JUNE 1, 2005 entry taken from my previous blog

During lunch, I decided to change it up and head out to the McDonald's on Oltorf. This is a big change considering I have Sonic on a daily basis. Alas, the drive-thru line looked busy and I decided to go inside.

So I'm thinking: I'll go inside, grab my meal, then get back to work. No biggie, right? Wrong. From the minute I walked inside this little thugette (probably 14 or 15) just started staring at me. Now I know I'm not drop dead gorgeous and granted I was in my scrubs, but hey, it's not as if there's an arm growing out of the side of my head. I stared back and during this little stare down her thug boyfriend (probably the same age) just kept on tugging at her sleeve asking, "Why won't you tell me? Why won't you tell me?" I have no idea what they were talking about or who this little girl was, but she then turned her back to me and was speaking to the boy in a whisper.

At this point, the thug just starts staring at me and even now I still don't know why. But at that moment I just opened my mouth and out came, "What's Your Problem, SON?" He simply shrugged his shoulders at me and that was the end of it.

I don't know what would possess me to say something so aggressively. It may not sound it, but for me that was aggressive in a public setting. Maybe it was the fact that I was hungry? Maybe I felt had I handled it in a more polite manner the boy would have walked all over me? Thinking about it now, I can only attribute it to my high school days hearing the thugs call each other 'son'.

In conclusion, I've learned that you are never too young to call someone 'son' and going to McDonald's doesn't necessarily equal Happy Meal. I should know, I walked out with a Grumpy Meal. :(