Thursday, March 28, 2013

Letter to retarded 16 year old Vanessa

Dear 16 year old Vanessa,

You are a fucking idiot...

You are not going to end up married to Alex Siquig...although you two will be great friends for many years to come, as weird as that may seem to a lot of people. Alex may not be that man you marry by the age of 25 after graduating college at 22 and living in this white picket fence, but he is the one that helped mold the nerdy, music appreciating, movie watching (Yojimbo) girl/woman that you are today. Thanks dude. I owe you my first born.

And no, you will not be "settled" and popping out kids by the time you are 25. That is bullshit, and you are going to think that's bullshit by the time you are 25. In fact by 25 you will have made some serious mistakes with some not worthy people that will completely alter and shatter your view. But your view won't be shattered forever, and your ego will recover.

You are going to want to have a career and know what you want to do with the rest of your life by the time you are twenty. Despite what others may say, you are going to change your mind well into your late twenties. Don't worry, people evolve, its ok to not want to go to law school. It's ok if the path you choose may not offer the most money, just make sure you love and respect the person you are becoming.

Not everything is a battle. Even relationships, friendly or romantic. Some things are going to come easy, and people are going to make you feel amazing. Cherish and respect these people. There will be a lot of "friends" that will come and go. Many will surprise, disappoint, even hurt. As hard as it is, its ok to distance yourself from these people. At times they can be toxic and in the long run you will be better off with less assholes. In fact, by the time you are twenty eight you will realize that a small group of amazing people in your life will be much better than being surrounded by a multitude of cock suckers.

Your family is not your enemy. They love you, always. You won't get that right now. You'll think they are against you in everything. You will make a judgement against them...and that needs to stop. Because one day you will realize that these people are your best friend, and that for all the fuck ups, all the tears, and the mean words, they are always the ones that want to love and comfort you when you are at your lowest. Don't forget to tell them how awesome they are to you.

Pee after sex. I mean it, this is important. You are not getting this concept right now..but you will. Trust me, it will save a lot of discomfort later on. It might not seem romantic, and I don't mean pee right then and there when you finish, but fuck cuddling. Get your ass out of bed, or wherever you are, and go pee. JUST DO IT.

You will love, but one day you will fall in love. And every doubt, every question you had on life and relationships will be answered, and things will seem brighter and easier. It won't be like a stupid rom-com, but it will be so much better. More than anything you would ever dream. And even though you act tough and mean right now, you will soften a little more with this person, get mushy and at times disgusting with your public display and profession of love...and you are going to love it.

Thanks babe. You are my life.

Try not to rush in to being an are going to be here so much sooner than you think.

Thursday, March 21, 2013

My Final Wishes

Let me tell you how it's going to go...

There is going to be a huge party! With tequila, chicken chow mein, enchiladas, tacos, beef chow fun, pizza (from round table) and caprese sandwiches. There is going to be a Mexican conjunto playing nothing but Norteno (NOT GANG NORTENO. Region Norteno) music, and then I want an hour of Sid Vicious, Siouxsie and the Banshees, New Order, Weezer, and then Schindler's List and Gone with the Wind playing on a huge screen. Maybe even a clip from Downfall.

There won't be a mass, there won't be an open casket...that shit freaks me the fuck out. And quite honestly, I want people to remember me for my Nazi humor and off colored jokes rather than some gray skinned corpse that for once in her life is quiet.

I can't say that my babe will say some words because after watching this documentary the other day I made this promise that I would wait for him to die first and then I would follow...details to come in the next blog.

I don't want anyone to cry...well...that's a lie. Crying is ok. But I want them all to dance, eat, and be really drunk.

I don't care much about cremation or burying, as long as I am with the babe.

Wear black, I love when people wear looks so fancy.


Tuesday, March 12, 2013

My dad and his friend

I waited days before calling my aunt to check on the status of a godfather. The week prior her email updates were almost daily, with hopeful and optimistic news. But after the fourth day of no update, I decided it was time to call.

"The cancer has spread, the chemo will shrink it, but it won't be cured."

It was all I heard. I thought of the last phone conversation before the news of the cancer, when I told him I would be in Austin and stopping for a visit during my trip. His response "we will have to make some food, its going to be a big day". And then I thought of the very last conversation with him, the day before his surgery, when he told my dad "I hope you make it down here."

It was a sad and confusing moment after finishing the call with my aunt. I went to my parents and broke the news to my dad. Borrowing my sensitivity from him, I knew he would have tears streaming before I finished my sentence.

"I can't see him like this, its not how I want to remember him."

I thought of my childhood and my first impression of my father and godfather. Two strong Mexican men, beers and smiles in hand. Nights of music, dancing, maybe even a serenade projected by the one to the other. I thought of the wedding in Mexico, when my father, in a state of inebriation, bought my godfather roses and mariachi serenade in the plaza as we headed back to the hotel. I can still feel the soreness on my sides from the laughter at the site of their macho Mexican bromance.

They were great friends, they were young, they were men.

Is this the the happy ending we are all hoping for? No, because someone I care about is going to die sooner than I would like. But what will hurt the most, is the anguish and sadness that will come from my dad. I wont be able to fix it, I can't take it away.

Wednesday, March 6, 2013

A future style for a future parent

I am not a mother, but I now hope to be one. Therefore, I am unsure on where this post will stand among the seasoned mothers who have bared the cracked nipples, the sleepless nights, the vomit and shit that follows a nine pounder.

But when it comes to parenting I can tell you this much:

I hope that my child says "please" and "thank you" because I taught him to, and because his parents say it to each other.

I hope that my kid loves to laugh, play music, watch old movies.

I hope that my kid loves to read. I hope they hide in a corner with a book larger than them, losing themselves in a sea of printed pages.

I hope that my kid is as cool as my nephews, and as awesome as my god-daughter.

I hope that this kid loves their father as much as I do, admires the man that I fell in love with, and I hope to hear them say, "my mom picked a great dad".

I hope that my future child is more creative than I, envisioning colors and scenes far beyond their imagination.

I hope that my child loves to love, showers us with hugs and loves to be kissed.

I hope that my kid loves what they do in life (unless he is a pedophile... that's a no go...). I hope that they excel in whatever it is that they do. And I don't  mean excel as in a millionaire, but in a personal goal, that they take pride in their position in this life.

I hope that when I reprimand my child, that they will remember that in life there are consequences to our actions, and that I do this because I love them and it is my job to guide them.

I hope that my kid is never bullied, and if they are, that I have done all that I can to reinforce the beauty inside of them. I hope that the belittling words they hear from others will only empower them to become greater and have more compassion for those sad individuals.

I hope that I don't fail them.