"Son you'll never catch me preach-ing what I'm not practic-ing
Word War II, Platform the illest flows
I know my hunger's real, I still get nauseous at shows
My motto, I didn't write but this I quote:
";It ain't where you put your words, it's where you don't";"

The Platform by Dilated Peoples

I do still get nauseous at shows. I am nauseous right now. I don't know how I manage to get myself into these things.

Yesterday evening I got a call from an old friend from the music scene. He had the task of calling me up, because a local dj from a radiostation is having an 'activity' on Saturday, honoring Women in Hip Hop. She wanted to contact me and invite me to this thing.But, since I have been MIA from the scene, since giving birth, she didn't know how to reach me, so she called my friend and he called me. Since he knows my 'Sitch-tu-ay' (situation), He told her before even talking to me:

"Look, I'll call her, but I doubt she'll come, she doesn't do these type of things anymore, and if she does come, she won't perform, I know that for sure".

So he calls me up, let's me know the info. I must admit I was extremely flattered they have even considered inviting me. I mean I haven't been around for such a long time, but to have people remember the things I have done, it's very flattering. I told him, to his shock and mine:

"Ok, I'll go. The ex has Miss C this weekend. I can make it. But I don't have to do anything but show up, right?"

"NO. You don't. U just be there. I'll call her and let her know".

We talked a bit more, went over the guestlist and guestperformers and hung up.

My heart was racing. I was/am estatic.

But I'm cool, cuz I just have to show up, right?.

Wrong.

I am a masochist. Really I am. I mean I just can't show up there, as a guest and not perform. Right?

So since last night, I've been conjuring up a plan, maybe a little freestyle, maybe recite a poem, maybe both. Nothing old, something new, current, cuz I really wanna complicate my life with something new to memorize in only 2 days.

So now I'm digging in my crates, patching up a show and dusting myself off.
I already feel like I'm gonna throw up.

Ain't nothing like the adrenaline of show.

On my 101 Things, The Empress has pointed out something that I have noticed I have not posted about yet:

My "Special Family"...notice I used the term "special" because the term I usually use, might be offensive for some...(psst.lean in closer, I usually say 'retards')

For those of you who have had the opportunity of meeting my fam, ya' know what I'm talkin' bout. Empress and Brazilian Princess know. I don't know if Brazilian Princess remembers, but if you turn back the clock, I bet u can.

Let's begin with Exhibit A:
MY DAD

I don't know his age. He keeps telling me he's 46 every year. So I've quit asking. Physically I have his color skin: white & his chinky eyes...that's it..THANK GOD.
I would not want his thin lips and oddly shaped nose.

Anyway. My dad is...well, how can I put it, quirky, odd, stupid, silly, or plain out of his fuckin' mind. We have never had a very good relationship and so we kinda of drive each other apeshit from time to time. He is obsessive compulsive, things have to go in a certain order, like his clothes, shirts, etc. His shoes all go in their original boxes in their bags, nice and neat. He polishes his shoes everyday and if u dare touch his freshly polished shoes, ur officially on his hit list.

He has a finger, his thumb, which he cannot move due to an accident as a child. And everytime he is ironing his clothes and his inmobil thumb gets in the way, he bangs his hand on the ironing board and yells:

"DAMN ALL HANDICAP PEOPLE!!! &*^%$*) ::bang bang bang:: I DAMN U GOD, FOR MAKING ME HANDICAPPED!!!"....

Picture hysterical peeing type laughter from me and my mom here.

"KEEP MAKING FUN OF ME!! I CAN'T RULE IN MY OWN HOUSE...DAMN U".

Picture uncontrollable laughter in which u are crying here.

*************
He hates when it rains. Cuz he doesnt drive or own a car. Travels only by foot, or public transportation, in his Tommy Hillfiger shirt,tie and slacks (yeah, cuz he's a stuck up retard). When it rains my mom suffers cuz he starts cursing and saying that God is Shit and he is being punished. My mom usually prays outloud asking for God to cut of his tongue, for saying such mean things about her God (This coming from a woman who tapes her lottery tickets on my grandma's pictures and prays God will help win a buck or two).

*************

He hates it when u kiss him. Hence I never kiss him, or hug him or tell him that I love him. Neither does my bro. I only do it when I wanna drive him completely insane, I love to see him squirm.

*************

He has a weird way of manifesting 'love'. He's never done so, to us. But he does show 'love' to Miss C:

"Miss C...grandpa's motherfucker"...
I swear that, that is what he says.

**************

My dad talks really fast. Even for a latino. Sometimes u can't make out what he is saying, and we all just nod and say 'yes yes'. Most of the time, he mumbles. My mom calls him "Mr.Mumble"...that's when he doesn't stutter, or continuously repeats himself. If given the case he has had one beer too many he'll do all simultaneously. Then we're really fucked communication wise.

*************

It's really embarrasing having friends over, cuz he'll get goofy and stupid and fart (yes, fart, he did this last week in front of my brother's girlfriend and I was mortified..Oh...so that's where Miss C gets it from...) and he does all other kinds of things u'd wanna kill him for later (Like tell really bad jokes. Me and The empress taped him once telling joke of a turd and a flower).

Now, if ur a regular at my house, and ur name isn't Cory (my bro's best friend who my dad wants to 'kill'), he'll take a liking to ya...and he'll do this each and everytime he sees u:

"Hey...The good ol' the good ol' the good ol' (insert stutter here)_____(insert name here)..where u here?!!" and he'll proceed to shake ur hand furiously...

And we'll probably just laugh in his face and he'll ask why we are laughing...

*******************
He buys stuff we don't need. He can't eat nuts. He is allergic to them. So every X mas he buys a bag of nuts.
One night, during the Holidays, me and my brother are at the table doing homework and he comes home, settles down and approaches us at the table:

"Where are my nuts?"

Me and my brother exchange "WTF?" looks

"We don't know"

"I bought a bag of nuts home today, where is it?"

"I don't know" I answer.

"You probably took it" he accuses my brother.

"Why on earth would I want a bag of nuts?" bro answers

"By the time I get back that bag of nuts better appear".

Look. We normally do play pranks on him, but this time, it's like dude, we don't have ur nuts.

So by the time he comes back, he's pissed.

"ROAAARRR *&^%^%$#@#$%^ GIVE ME MY NUTS!!!"

So you know that now were are hysterically laughing...

"We don't have em!!"

So he comes to the table,and this is where it gets good, he picks up a sheet of notebook paper on the table and looks UNDER it.

Now my people, how the fuck is it possible that a bag of bulging nuts is hiding under a sheet of flat notebook paper!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So, now we are crying and roaring with laughter....

So he storms into the bathroom,which faces the table where we are at. And we keep on laughing and lifting up the sheet of paper and going: NOPE IT AINT THERE..

So he pokes his head out the door, with shaving cream still attatched:

"YOU!! (My bro) I'M GONNA PUNCH U IN THE FACE U LIL FUCK!! AND YOU!! (MOI) ONE OF THESE DAYS I'M GONNA SLAP U SO HARD FOR BEING SUCH A DISRESPECTFUL FUCK!!"

Long story short, mom intervened, the case of the missing nuts was solved (he had left them in his briefcase, yeah a bag of nuts in his office briefcase, then he wonders why his co-workers make his life a living hell), and there were no apologies issued. Just a nice story we like to tell over and over when he's banging his thumb on the ironing board...

Exhibit B later on..

I never claimed to be your saviour
I said I had a dirty mouth
Stop analyzing my behaviour
If you're too dumb to work it out
I've got to keep myself together
You know I hate to disappoint
A masochistic lamb to slaughter
Maybe you miss the point?

-Dumb By Garbage

Seems like the theme in all my conversations with gal pals this week, is RELATIONSHIPS, MEN, AND ::SHIVER:: LOVE/LIKE...

I've been really catchin' up on my gossping this week with The Empress and some other gals. Me and The Empress go wa-a-a-a-y back so we basically are on the same wavelength. We usually talk 'bullshit' but seems like for the past weeks, we've been on the 'relationship' theme. I've also noticed the coincidence that my conversations with other 'gals' have been on that too.

We usually tear apart men, dissect them, overanalyze them and totally trash em'. You know what I'm talkin' bout. The 'men are assholes that can never be fixed and all of them are equally the same' trashtalk. But seldom do we point out that we women, are of a odd breed as well. Obviously men and women were built differently, we think differently, our cpu's are totally wired in opposite directions. But yet, we crave companionship, we crave to be in relationships, whether we'd like to admit it or not.

Now, to the point I am getting. Women, and I don't mean to offend anyone, after all I am a very liberal type gal, (who deep down inside, wants the nice fam, the dog and the house), we don't usually know what we want, especially when it looks like we're gonna get it.

Someone asked me once: Why do women fall for asshole/bad boy type men?

My answer: I have no idea. Well really I do, but I'm just not gonna get into those deep waters today.

We usually want the nice, polite, bring home to mom guys. We want the guys, who'll remember to bring the ice cream, who'll watch movies with us, who'll compliment us when we're in our sweats. Alas, we never wind up with this guy, and when we do wind up with a generic proto-type, we make a quick get away, like if they guy was a lepper.

What gives?

For example, I have been in relationships where after a few weeks all is well,but deep down inside u have no fuckin' clue as to what is going on in his mind. It's like playing scrabble with Q's, X's and Z's and no vowels. Totally impossible. Cuz women, are nosy,we want emotion, we wanna know what the hell is up, we wanna pick ur brains, we wanna hear nice things, even though we say outloud we don't. Come on, who are we trying to fool?. So, relationships with men type 'walls' literally drive us, up one.

Then we have the 'Mr.Perfect, but there has got to be a flaw somewhere' relationship.
He's the type that is too good to be true. The guy that holds doors, buys flowers, pays for everything,shows emotions, but alas, is the the guy you whisper to your friends about on the phone and say:

"he's so good, I'm paranoid"
"well, he's got to have some flaw..." they so supportively answer.

WHY THE HELL CAN'T HE BE PERFECT. WHY DO WE HAVE TO BE SO PARANOID.???

Eventually we break this guy's heart and send him off, cuz u're SURE he's hiding some secret.

And last but not least you have the mixed breed. This is the type of guy you dream of, you absolutely like and u think have a really strong chance of building something solid with. It's the guy that gives u goosebumps and makes u smile like an idiot one day, and then the next day it's like ur listening to mass in Arabic. You have no clue. He's always giving out mixed signals. Or is he? He's so nice and charming one day and then the next day it's like he's living a double life as an Ice Cube. So now , once again, dissapointment comes and we don't know where we stand with this guy, after a week of dating...lol....

A WEEK??!!!

See, we women crave attention, love, affection, blah blah...when we get it, we run and hide, and when after a week we don't get it we go hysterical.

We can't blame it all on the guys.

I think deep down inside we are all just masochistic lambs waiting for our pastor one day, and then wanting to go to the slaughter house the next. We wanna play on both sides of the field. We wanna be strong and independent, but we wanna be dependent and weak once in a while.

Relationships are tedious and trying and difficult. If it were easy it would not be so gratifying at the end, and wouldn't be worth our hassle. But today this one is for the guys: We women are the Shit...I know.
We can have the best of both worlds, but our paranoia gets the best of us...Baaahh!!

Sh*t...no...SHIT!!

I am a big baseball fan. Yesterday was the first game between old time rivals, New York Yankees and Boston Red Sox..at no other then Boston's Fenway Park...

I HATE BOSTON.

I can't emphasize how much I dislike them and how funny it is that Johnny Damon, once Boston sweetheart was last night making his debut for the Yanks.

there was even a poster that read:

Looks like Jesus, acts like Judas and throws like Mary.

The "jesus" reference was on his old look. He used to have a beard and long hair, hence, looking like Jesus.
Yankees protocol does not allow that on it's players. They have to be clean cut.

So anyway, the game is on, Boston is winning the first two innings...Yankess go ahead in the 4th. I'm happy. But not for long.

Fuckers went ahead in the 5th...kept on hitting..kept fuckin' hitting..

So now i'm like "What the fuck is up with our pitchers!!"...

Then with two bases loaded comes fucking Ortiz and hits a homer past Damon....Shit...

So I'm like "AWWWWWW FUCK!!!!!"

only little detail?

I said AWWW FUCK outloud, in front of Miss C. I immediately saw my error and then proceeded to make a face of "OH shit"..and Miss C, smart as shit...senses that what I said was wrong and what does she do:

She smiles and says :

"AWWW FUCK!!"...and giggles...

So now, with the cellphone in my ear, and friend telling me I shouldn't curse in front of Miss C, which I hardly do, but I got so emotional with the game, I'm trying to scramble to my feet and be a good mom "No No, we don't say that"..

"AWWW FUCK!!" x infinity..

She just kept repeating and repeating...

and I couldn't stop dying of utter embarrassment listening to my sweet autistic daughter saying "AWWW FUCK".

So I proceed to ignore her and eventually she stops...

But we still lose the fucking game.

AWWW FUCK...DAMN YANKEES!!!

I took Miss C to see Monster's Inc on Ice, courtesy of The Empress, yesterday afternoon (Once again, thanx babes!!..u see The empress is Miss C's fairy Godmother..a very cool one indeed)...anyway..we get in, we are seated, right in the front part of the stage on the second floor, and Miss C is kinda of like edgy. Which as u all know, worries the sh*t out of me.

The show had already started. Mickey, Minnie and crew were out entertaining the crowd before the main event. Miss C is in shock and awe....but then as the Monster's Inc. show began, the lights went out, smoke started to appear, as Randal (aka, the horrible monster from the movie) comes out slithering to scare Boo (cute adorable lil girl, who is a dead ringer for Miss C, which by the way someone remarked as we were going in the show)...

Miss C who sat through the shitty fake "Barny"...starts wailing..."NOOOOOO...Let's gooooo...Let's goo now!!"..

And mommy is trying to control her wails and screams, and crying..."there there...it's ok..it's just make believe"..

But Miss C wasn't having it...
She eventually calms down and settles in to enjoy the first part of the show, only to wail here and there when the lights were low....

Then there was the intermission. I understand that the people who skate in these outfits are tired and need a break and the consession people have to rob ur money with the $3 a slice pizzas, but I would prefer that the show run all the way through..cuz as soon as the intermission began, Miss C shook her hands and said: "It's over, let's go"...

So once again, mom has to engage in oh-so humiliating behavior to make her laugh and want to stay..Dammit...we got in free !!! We're staying until the God forsaken fat lady sings...or whatever it is that ends the show, ends it.

When we go to these events, I am usually happy cuz Miss C never asks for anything, no food, no toys. I always carry snacks, but she is so into the show she never eats.
Yesterday, of course, she was the shit. She wanted Pizza, pizza u know she can't eat. She also wanted a toy. A spinning glowing stick...a spinning glowing $20 stick..that almost made me have a titty-attack when the guy is like "20 bucks lady"...WTF??
The glowing stick will be permanently attatched to her body, and will make special guest appearances in her Prom, wedding and labor. For 20 bucks, it's the least it can do.

Jeez.

On the bright side, Miss C was psyched with her glowing stick..and behaved very well for the rest of the show.

***

After a good 15 mintues waiting to get out of the parking lot of the Coliseum, due to stupid ass drivers making non existant 3rd and fourth lanes...I decided to take Miss C to eat. A friend and I decided to meet up and go eat together.

Let me make this a little clearer fo' u folk...it was a 'male' friend

I have friends, male friends too. But for me to go out with a male friend, and include Miss C in the pic is a lil odd for me...
This male friend is nice, cool. We've got lots of stuff in common and get along just nicely. I personally think he is a cool artist. We've been to lunch a few times and have had a nice time (hence, I am using the word 'nice' a zillion times, in lack of another word, similar to nice...if u think of any let me know)..

Anyway, we pull up in this drenching rain to eat with Miss C, who is at this point very chatfull and polite with The Artist and vice versa. So what happens as soon as we walk in the place:

BAM!!! My Ex's ex coworker, his wife and fam....

Yes, very awkward moment. very awkward indeed. I mean, it's technically no biggie, cuz we are divorced, but my paranoic ass starts thinking:

What if they don't know I'm divorced??!! What if they see me here with my friend and think I'm on some secret rendevouz with him and my daughter in tow...I am such a bitch and bad woman and mother, taking my daughter along to meet with another man...!!

"Hi...(having a sudden brain hemorrage, and forgetting everything including my color underwear)!, oh my!! how much ur daughter has grown.."

All this while my friend is asking me for the keys to my van, cuz I left the lights on...

And since I can't concentrate on both events simultaneously I feel the veins in my eyes slightly pop...

So we make very awkward chit chat..my friend comes back..I do a totally bang up job at introducing him...

We keep talking...my friend's in the line to order and I manage to tell The Fam about the Ex's accident and clearly press on the fact that: he is staying over at my house **hit hint** so I can help him, until he is better to go to his...

We say our goodbyes, I get in the line..we order we eat...we say our goodbyes..

So now i'm like, well I'm gonna have to tell my ex about this lunch thingy..I mean I don't have the obligation to, but I'd rather him hear it from me, than from other people...

So i get home, and trying to play out in my head, what's left of it, the conversation and how it will go...so i get upstairs and the ex greets me with:

"So, P. (the lil girl who was with the family) is big, isn't she?"

::Oh shit..they beat me to it...bastards::

For all u bloggers non-island...news travels on dial up, gossip on fiber optics..

I try to gain my composure and answer "yep..she is"...and walk away...I can't obviously talk about this now..cuz I'll probably have some kind of brain breakdown of some sort..

So after a while, when I regained my ability to speak and conjure thoughts I told him I had lunch with a friend...blah blah..
He asked a few questions, I answered...end of discussion...

I can now try to salvage what's left of my nails.

And change my underwear.