2013 Resolution

I’m putting this in writing.

Not because my soul is aching for it, but because I read a book that said in order to realize ones goals, one must actually see them.

I’ve lost my way.

Word counts became too high, books got too wordy and the romance in words became lost in acronyms.

IDK, sometimes I wonder what’s the point?

No one feels words anymore.

I too have fallen victim to the unpersonalized world of speed language.

In an OH EM GEE world, the pen was replaced.

My goal is to revitalize my burning desire to feel the syllables.

I will become familiar with the feeling of pen on paper… fingers on a keyboard.

I will grovel to the undying glory of verbage and find my way back to its familiar camaraderie.

I will accept the title of Writer/Poet/Blogger.

My heart shall once again bleed the words unspoken.

For I am Pathetic.


(to be posted on my poetry library https://pathetic.org/library/6371)

Louis CK has a show!!

I love comedies. Even more though, I love stand up comedy. There's this dude named Louis CK. Super funny comedian, or at least I like to think so. His comedy focuses on his family and how he copes with lifes issues after a divorce. His comedy tends to be morbid at times. It's like your half expecting him to hang himself in a hilarious way right before he puts the mic down.

He has a couple of stand up specials, my favorite being Chewed Up (2008) and Hilarious (2009) BOTH are available on Netflix (which is quickly starting to fade in popularity, but that's for another day). Both of those specials made me a fan. I think I caught Chewed Up one night on Comedy Central. It was the edited version, of course, but I thought he was funny. It's kind of like the way I discovered Dane Cook. (Love me some late night Comedy Central viewing). Anywho, I just found out that he was a show on FX called Louie. It's a show that makes me sad in a happy way. I am REALLY late in discovering this show, apparently it's been on since 2010. Not only has it been on, but it's been nominated for many awards, including an Emmy. Season three is scheduled to air on FX network on June 28, 2012!

Ok, so late is an understatement. I finally caught up on season one and there were a couple of episodes that were hard to watch. Hard but not impossible, as I kept laughing along the way. (Season Two I'M COMING FOR YOU!!!) The episodes really don't follow any certain story line. It's all over the place and if you are expecting something, then don't. Watch each episode for what it is, a half hour of pure hilarity.

"I'm the guy that women see and they go UGH, and I'm like I know but let me just talk to you for a minute." The one reoccuring theme flowing through the show is that he is a self depreciating, raunchy, demoralized version of Seinfeld. He touches on everything from being divorced, awkward dating habits, feeling lonely, raising two girls and trying to make a career fro himself.

In truth, Louie, as a character never seems to grow. he is stuck in the same never ending depression tornado. The storm clouds hover over his shiny bald head and he stares up and laughs at it and continues to walk in the storm. Louie is a survivor. He is the proof that for some people Murphy's Law is a birth right.

There's an episode where he, at the age of 42, is being bullied by a high school punk while on a date. He walks away from a potential fight with a kid. His date seems horrified. When he asks her about it, she tells him "my mind is telling me you are a great guy, but my chemistry is telling me that you're a loser."

Sometimes our instints lie. Maybe, just maybe, our minds are trying to guide us in the right direction. My mind is telling me to continue to watch, because I want to see Louie's character continue to suffer and laugh at all his pain. It's not always about what situation you are in, but how you cope with it. It's about how you react to that situation and find some laughter in it. Louie is a fighter and when he can't take it anymore he grabs a microphone and for a couple of minutes, it's ok.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some catching up to do. Season three is only a couple of days away!!!

I finally did it...

I thought about it day in and day out. It was almost an obsession. I continued to look at myself in the mirror and wonder why. Here I was a couple of pounds lighter and I still looked the same way I did at the age of twenty-three. At what point was I going to become an adult? At what age was I going to start living the life of a real woman enjoying her thirties?

I wondered what it would look like, if I would like it, could I manage it? There were many questions lined up to knock me down, but the desire was still there. When the desire is there and the nagging feeling of "I need this" is looming in the distance, there is no stopping you. I sat down and discussed things with my other half and he finally convinced me to do it. "It's what you want to do. So what if you don't like it, it will grow back." He was right. 

The day had finally come where I needed to step back and look at the life I had lived up to this point. I know what you're thinking...this is all about a freaking hair cut? Yes, yes it is. my hair meant more to me than I don't know what. It was my comforter, it was my sex appeal, it was my shield. I wore it many different ways, but by far my favorite was when it was straight and you could see the length.

I loved the way it would flow in the wind, the way it rested in my shoulder and I loved to pull my hair from the back as I was concentrating on something. I still believe that when I was suffering from a severe writers block that little pull made all the difference.

Eventually, budget cuts hit and there was no way for me to constantly go out and blow dry my hair. It takes money to make kinky hair look nice. So, a bit of depression settled in. There was no way that I was going to blow dry that mop myself every three days. 

 I mean, come on... Look at that. Would you ever think that hair that curly could ever look straight? It does. My hair is thin, but ridiculously curly. I owe that luxury to my mixed genes. Luckily, I got more of the mom hair gene than the sperm donor, because her hair is lifeless straight and tends to lend a hand to the people who blow dry my hair. 

Anyway, let me tell you the story about when I went to the salon and finally gave in to cut my hair short. My hair dresser and I have had a ten year relationship. She and I have been through marriage, divorce, dating, and new relationships. She has been dying to cut my hair really short to give me a new look since my divorce five years ago. I always refused.

One day, I went to see her to become a red head. She loved this color on me and was dying to change it back to red (I was a severe red head years ago, think the Phoenix from X-Men). I caved and she changed it. But, since my hair was sooo long, she ran out of dye and had to re-mix another batch. The problem with this was that she didn't remember exactly how she mixed it. 

I was half asleep and didn't know what was going on, until I went to work. A co-worker of mine looked at me and said, 'Dude, your hair is two different colors.' I lost it. I didn't call her nor did I contact the salon. I knew this was on oversight on her part, but, I couldn't afford to continually go back there every other week. I was determined to find a new hair dresser.

I found one. He was amazing, he fixed my situation, but he wasn't her. His prices were great. The waiting time killed me. So, when it came down to getting my hair cut, I knew what I was going to do. I was going to call Carmen and set up an appoint and forgive her for her mistake. I was going to get my hair cut!!

 I made the appointment and showed her this picture. I want to look like Drew Barrymore, sans color. I want a short hair cut in order to cut away all the things that I have gone through in the last ten years. I WANT FREEDOM!!!! She looked at me and said, it's about time. But, are you sure. 

She knew how attached I was to my hair. Was I 100% sure, of course not. However, I couldn't handle the desire I had to get rid of my hair. The time had come for a change. Everything around me was changing. My world was starting to look brighter and I needed my hair to reflect that. 

She grabbed the scissor and cut. I'm not going to lie. At first, I was hyperventilating, but with each cut I felt lighter. I felt free. I felt more powerful that I have felt in a very long time. I was excited for the change. For every little change that I was making in my life.

I'm not going to continue to bore you with my dramatic outlook on life. Let's just say that I am happy. I do need to do a couple of other things to my hair because I didn't remember that cutting my hair smack in the middle of summer was a bit dumb on my part, seeing as the humidity in Miami and my curls don't like each other, but there isn't a day that I look back on my hair cut and doubt that I made the wrong decision. So, without further ado (is that how u spell that?)  MY BEFORE AND AFTER SHOT. 

Tell me...and be honest....WHAT DO YOU THINK?

Don't Judge Me...I'm not on TV

I have an admission. I would like to keep this between us because.... well, it's.... it's rather embarrassing. Promise you won't tell? Seriously, you promise??

***enter dramatic pause here***

Okay. . . . . . OH MY GOSH!!! I can't believe I'm going to say this.... ummmmm, you really really pinky promise, right? 

***enter concerned face here**

Alright, alright... geez. **deep breath** Here it is. . . 

I ENJOY REALITY SHOWS!

OOOO EEEMMMM GEEEEE!!! I think I just got rid of my last intellectual brain cell. HA HA! Ok, I'm just kidding. Not about the reality show thing... just the brain cell comment. I really do enjoy me some reality show drama. Particularly The Real Housewives of New York City (up until Bethenny Frankel left, but then she got her own show Bethenny Ever After and that is now my favorite.)

BEST REVENGE EVER!!!!  ==========>

I also enjoyed tons of drama from the BH Housewives...

Not so sure if I feel bad for her. . . catch up on the drama and then we can talk. =)

This one I do feel bad for her. My heart goes out to her and her little girl. Pobresita!

 

Wait...almost forgot to mention the Atlanta chicks. Check them out for some AMAZING dramatic times.

Now imagine my excitement when I heard that Miami (town of plastic surgery, fakeness and rolling around in cars you can't afford and carrying a real Louie to the welfare office.) was getting it's own HOUSEWIVES!!! What?? The town that I live in that I am now learning to love (only took me ten years) is going to host it's own cesspool of backstabbing and dollar slanging! Needless to say that ELATED is an understatement. I was not missing an episode EVAR!!! (I know it's misspelled. -----> that's how it's supposed to sound when you're ELATED!!!)

So, I have to admit, I missed a couple of episodes. Not because I wanted to, but because duty called. For some reason my employer can't understand how calling out to catch the show is not acceptable. Yada yada yada, a couple of write ups later and BAAAM I was in bed and I was meeting my new electrifying Miami divas. I was sure that the producers had taken their time picking Le Creme de La Creme. I mean they had to represent Miami well. Strong personalities and mucho pero mucho drama to compete with the other shows. I couldn't wait to meet Miami's version of Nene Leakes!!! -------->>>>

I ended up catching the show mid episode. I was introduced to this face right of the bat. . . 

Oh sweet sweet sweet honey suckle of life, what is that? She looks like she should be on an episode of The Doctor's When Plastic Surgery Goes Wrong episode. . . 

BBBBUUUTTT I digress!

The show was horrible. Bravo thought so too, so they cancelled it. Take it from me when I tell you that this was the worst representation of Miami possible. It did a great job of showing how Hialeah (no offense to my Hialeah peoples) hood rat gold differs could be useful in society, but it did nothing to elevate the community that I am currently digging. Who were these women and where the hell did Bravo find them? Seriously I am embarrassed for my Miami peeps. 

Ok, it's funny. . . but, aside from their uneducated Hialeah accent (again, no offense) these women on this show play up to a crowd of people that I think destroy the beauty of this city. They are the typical stereotype of what Miami women are not. I blame women like that for creating this stigma that the man whose pocket chicks hold on to, are what defines them. You know the chicks I'm talking about. . . they are the ones that have a name on each article they adorn their overworked on bodies. They are the women who crash diets and break people down to just a dollar sign. TOTAL WOMEN FAIL!!!

What? You're calling me a hypocrite??? I am offended!!! But, you are also kind of right. I am a fan of the other shows and they are just as bad. HOW EV ER,  Miami Housewives do not have the draw that the other shows have. They are just bad. Bad accents, bad facial features and bad ummm bad everything!

Here's the real reason why I'm bombarding you with this today... the other day I got a Groupon (BEST SITE EVER!!!! <----FREE ADVERTISING! I seriously need to start getting paid for this.) for a VIP ticket to a Dali private collector's viewing. This was my first art exhibit, not to mention VIP status. It was an easy purchase (I love me some art) and I was super excited.

I met my girlfriend and her husband there. Her hubby is a real artist (he's really good, for realsies!) The plan was to enjoy ourselves with people watching and amazing artwork. We were also planning on chowing down on some designer yummies. It started off properly. We got into the people watching. . . .

The food was hard to get to, barely found and once you did, attack mode was in progress. But, just as I was getting comfortable with my artsy fartsy role, everything took a turn for the worst. . .

We were invaded by the Housewives of Miami!! I thought they were canceled! Turns out that crappy ratings weren't enough for Bravo to bite the bullet and admit their mistakes. Whatever, not my cup of tea and I can always change the channel. (Chopped anyone??)

What I can't change is how horrible it was to be in a cramped up space trying to enjoy my friends, artwork and my first VIP experience while being cleared away from existence while these posers (wearing amazing shoes) walk around aimlessly interrupting my art experience. 

 THEY DIDN'T EVEN ADMIRE THE ARTWORK!!!

OOORRR THE AMAZING BUILDING WE WERE STANDING IN!!!!

Nope, they just walked around and around and around and gossiped about God knows what. All the while the paying public, who was actually there for the enjoyment of the artwork, the people who were trying to understand what things were and why was the guy in the gold jacket walking around and dancing as if this was an 80's film, seriously, why?....

Anyway, we were being pushed around as if we were sheep in this developing town of Miami. I want a creative city. I want to live in an artistically diverse city where I can walk around and try to figure out the mysterious ways of crazy artist!!!

I do not want to be pushed around! Specifically from one camera guy who rudely told me to "move out the way." Yeah...he said that. Apparently, I was absently walking in the same direction as the wives and I was rudely depriving Bravo of finally getting some amazing drama on this show. 

Had it not been for the fact that my friend has amazing people skills or the fact that I was not heavily inebriated, I totally would have created some drama for these chicks and grabbed my drink and throw it in the tall ones face. I don't know why she annoys me soo. . . it was possibly the chunk of upper arm fat that was leaking from the top of her too tight dress. (Not my personal comment, but my girlfriends observation. For the record though, the back fat was severe. Pay for a trainer or some lypo lady!!)

Anyway, my experience improved, once they had turned off the cameras and we were back in the art district...just as intended. I did enjoy my time there and I can't wait till the next art gallery I can attend. I still think the Miami housewives suck, and will only watch the show now to find out what they were talking about and if I am in the back ground. . . WHAT?!?!

If you ask me, I should have my own reality show. . . I'm just saying!

tears in a cold world...

She's crying. I'm not sure why, but I want to stop her pain. Is she uncomfortable? Is she missing something or someone? Is she hungry or just lacking affection? The tears continue to drench her innocent cheeks and I haven't made a move. I'm still standing here, staring into the pain that is clouding her sweet eyes and I haven't done a thing. I am watching from a distance and refuse to get involved. It's not my problem. Besides, someone else will help her, why does it have to be me?

My mom once told me that there would come a time in the world where evil will multiply and good will be less likely to prevail. I would hear this time and time again and I never thought that I would ever see the day. I refused to play a part in that. I would always be me and have an open heart for the world. Let me tell you that not only have I seen the day, but I have also hidden my goodwill in a safe and it's under a massive security lock down. I caved. The world finally conquered me, or did it?

I spent last week in Orlando. I did a little shopping and hung out with my Boobie. We also vistited Mickey. (SN:How can you go to Orlando without visiting Mickey Mouse???) As we are strolling (more like speed walking and trying to get around the multitude of kids to get to the Haunted Mansion, I'm such a kid!) through Magic Kingdom, I see a little boy out of the corner of my eyes crying hysterically. What's my first thought? Well, of course he's coming out of a candy store and I'm thinking that he wanted something and his parents said no. Economy is tough and Mickey hasn't lowered his prices!

As I get closer, I realize it's not that he is being a brat but that he is lost. Instantly, my heart broke. I can't tell you how many people passed by this crying child, a desperate child building trauma and scared out of his mind, and no one stopped. Not once person took a detour for the well being of another human being. Not even the employee standing at the door. She even looked at me and smiled, but just stood there and ignored the child. I was in shock! Here you are in a park full of children and parents and not one person bothered to look down at this crying child and try to figure out what was wrong with him.

My many years of working for a police department is not in vain. The experience and many hours of training started to kick in and the emotions took a back seat. I walk over to the kid. I get down to his level and I ask him if he's lost. Hiss crying becomes hysterical and the fear begins to consume him. I look at him and with pure love in my eyes tell him not to worry, we will find his parents. I ask him who he was with. He tells me he was with his dad. I ask him where was the last place he saw his daddy. "Right here." He says. You can physically see his desperation begin to leave his tiny little body. He knew he was safe.

The child must have been at least five years old. He was terrified and surrounded by all these people he didn't know and all that it took was one person taking a couple of minutes out of their day and asking him if he needed help. He trusted me. I was not going to stop until I found his dad. At this point I ask him to stand right there and ask him what his dad was wearing. "A red shirt and blue pants," he says. At this point Boobie, who is also a police department employee begins to look around for the dad. We both know that in these situations, the parent will return to the last place he saw his kid. It wasn't a good idea to move him.

I reach for the child's hands and I ask him not to cry. "Don't worry honey, we are going to find your daddy." A couple of things were working against us accomplishing our goal. It was dark, the street lights were out due to the light parade and people were basically walking over each other. No one was helping us find this boys dad. Now what? We begin looking for a man who looks just as desperate as this child in the sea of madness that we were standing in. Just as I was wondering where people's heart have gone, a Disney employee walks out of the candy store and grabs the boy from my arms. She says she's going to find his dad and sweeps him from my arms. She never made eye contact with me and instantly starts to walk him around the store. A definite no no! How can you trust someone who never makes eye contact?

Instantly, I went after her and Boobie stopped me. He asked me to relax, she'll help him find his dad. I start to walk away, but everything in me is telling me to go back. I mean, how can she find his dad? She walked away from the last place dad saw him. Dad was going to go back to where we were standing and his boy is not going to be where he last saw him. Now you are going to stress out two people for no reason. Also, she never made eye contact with me, how could I trust her. I made a promsie to the little boy, I was breaking that. She never made him feel comfortable. She never reassured him that it was going to be ok. She never let him trust her. She just grabbed him and left.

I didn't feel right about this at all. It took me a while to calm down and not stress it. She was a Disney employee and had training on how to get lost children back to her parents. But, she wasn't trained the way I was. She didn't know what I knew. I couldn't trust her to find his dad. I almost turned around and went back. Boobie stopped me. "He's going to be fine, trust me." I did trust him. Because he was ok with it, then I would be too. I let it go and enjoyed the rest of my night.

A part of me hasn't let it go though. It's not because he was taken from my arms, but because I couldn't trust that woman to find his dad the way I could find his dad. I knew that I could do a good job and all I wanted to see was the pain taken away from that little boys face and see the relief and happiness return to his face once he was reunited with his dad. I wanted to see love.

I realize that what my mother told me is true, but just as I decided a long time ago that I would not succumb to the ways of the world, I will honor that today. I have to trust people, and not just those that I have tested, but all people. I have to welcome everyone with open arms because I want to see the pain and sorrow that surrounds so many of us disappear and be replaced with the relief and happiness that only comes from knowing that there is still good in the world. I choose to be a leader and not a follower. I choose to love.

Fides....