Speaking of moving in fast forward, never in a million years would I have thought I would be uttering the following sentence so soon:


"You cannot kiss boys, you cannot have a boyfriend, ANY boyfriend, is that clear??"

Miss C had misbehaved on the bus ride on the way home. By misbehave I mean the usual philandering like: hitting, pinching, unbuckling her seatbelt but now she added something new to shake things up a bit:

Trying to kiss a boy and screaming she wanted a "big" boyfriend.
I had to resist the urge to tell her: “Honey no you don’t, trust mommy on this one”

But instead, I spent the afternoon yelling at a 6 year old girl who cried so intensely about the boyfriend she wanted. It kind of broke your heart a bit. Where did she get these things from? Clearly not from her cold hearted love allergic mother. What was so important about a having a “big” boyfriend??? So I just had to ask:

“Why do you want a “big” boyfriend?”

“Because I want someone to call me. Nobody calls me; a big boyfriend would call me”


Honey, chances are, that either big or small, that isn’t’ going to happen either.

They have X mas lights for sale at Kmart.

In August.

And I couldn't find lighter fluid and charcoal for a barbeque this past weekend.  The staff at Kmart told us in a very matter-o-factly tone, that they had stored it all away.

What part of tropical island do these people not get?

Maybe the Faith Gene is gone.
Maybe I used it all up.

Fact of the matter is, lately I kind of don't believe in much.

I mean, on an island where people decide that in their wake they should be viewed standing up, where can my Faith go.

Yesterday a lady in the bank politely asked a gentleman how he was doing and he quickly answered:

"My father is dead. He died this week. He was 95".

No, "thank you and you...? Oh by the way my dad died..."

Just flat out tragedy.

It's a wonder some people still believe in Ol' St. Nick.

I've been MIA from church for three weeks, for several reasons, valid or not. Underneath it all, I haven't missed anything.

I was feeling out of place. Doing empty things for no apparent reason.

There are dynamics of God that I don't fully understand yet, and no one, has given me an answer that can somewhat make sense.

I think too much.
That's True's theory.

Right now I'm on a different path.
And as much as I want things to be as they were, I don't think they will.

And this is going to stir up some problems.
Especially with True.
Because frankly, even if there is love between us, which there is, how much can that love make up for the fact that we want totally different things right now and are on totally different pages.

I can't support him on his endeavors, because frankly I care for none.
And I couldn't care less if he cared for mine.

I don't know if I'm going back to church and his Faith, his glorious, undying Faith, is too much for me to bare right now. I just don't get it most of the time.

I look back to a couple of months ago and I don't really know if I was truly happy.

I couldn't recognize myself in the mirror. I had lost all sense of identity.

I had stopped being me and became True's girlfriend.

And as nice as that sounds, I still prefer my first and last name.

So, right now it's all a puzzle, it's all a question mark and there are no answers from anywhere.

I left The Kid this morning at school with her assistant. I looked from behind a column and saw The Kid's frown, fighting with the assistant because she refuses to put her backpack where the other backpack's are. She says they will be stolen.

After a weekend filled with movie going (we went to see Space Chimps, in Spanish...as if weren't bad enough in the original English language), pool dipping and cuddling, it is damn hard putting that kid in the car and leaving her off at school.

damn.

So I had just about had it.
The new neighbors aka the new hooligans were driving me mad.

They are up very late during the week, smoking weed and their friends stop by with motorcycles starting all kinds of rawkus.

As if it weren’t enough with the Mariachi loving neighbor who now sells drugs and has befriended the hooligans.

It was 9:30, mariachi lover was playing up a storm, beating on congas, cheering like a Mexican, with his door wide open.

I kindly leaned out of my door.

“Um…you see that window, it’s my daughter’s window, do you mind listening to the music for yourself?? As in real low”.

He looked, shocked, almost appalled. But immediately went inside to lower the music.

Then the hooligans began their matinee.

Last week I quietly called the cops on them and that had simmered them down but last night it looked like an all-nighter.

At 10:30 I had had enough.

I went outside, walked straight up and said:

“You guys don’t work tomorrow, or go to school, well that’s all nice. I actually envy you, but some people on this block do and my kid has school tomorrow so I will appreciate you keep the volume down, real down”.

They agreed to do so and I went back in.

But an hour later they were at it again, laughing, cursing, revving up their bikes…

Aw, hell to the no. Not on my block.

I headed downstairs again, this time not so diplomatic.

“Shut up!! You need to shut up…are you deaf?? Did I not just tell you guys to keep it down???!! There will not be a third warning, I will call the police, so shut up”.

They were stunned, they apologized and headed inside.

I’m tired of this crap, tired of no one on my block doing nothing because they fear these 15 year old punks.

I’m organizing some sort of committee and I’m taking my street back.