Bowling, Dancing, and Green Masks... Oh my!

My friends decided to come to me last weekend. While some live only ten minutes away, the others are an hour or six, depending on their method of transportation. I had two pending parties scheduled but it was easy to give them up for a rare weekend with my girls.

The fun started on Friday night with a triple-date. Suzanna, Maria, and I, along with our significant others, met up at a Thai restaurant where the laughs quickly started. These girls have been making tears roll down my face since 2004. I actually met Maria first at our college Chicano graduation. We were sitting next to each other in alphabetical order. There was a classmate breaking the record for the world's longest speech on the stage when Maria made a joke about it. I turned to my left and giggled with her. Then I made another witty comment about the girl at the podium and Maria laughed too. That's when I thought, I like this girl. She's pretty damn funny. She made the ceremony bearable but I didn't expect to come across her again. So it was a very pleasant surprise for me when she walked into the course I was taking to get my teaching credential. She introduced me to her best friend Suzanna, who was just as quirky, and the rest was history. I am thankful now that I didn't own a car or possess a driver's license then because I wouldn't have built the friendship we have had they not driven me to our student-teaching site for four months.



Round two: bowling. Check out our nails! As colorful as we are.

 

Then we graduated, again. Our busy adult lives inevitably took effect and now we only see each other a few times a year. But I can assure you that we make up for lost time by laughing all night. Actually, if you ever want to see me smiling constantly, just take me to these two girls. You won't even recognize me...

Round three: dancing. A Selena potpourri gets us going every time.

On Saturday, I headed to my parent's house in L.A. to see my sister. She carpooled with two other So Cal girls also living in Nor Cal. I had not seen her since May when I flew to Oakland. It's a shame that we live so far away because it's difficult to build a relationship through email or phone messages. But we are trying. We had a quiet evening as a family and then got really crazy when we decided to put on a tea tree oil mask, sip on the new lime-a-ritas I bought at Food-4-Less with 8% alcohol volume per each eight ounce can, and watch a movie. We knocked out during the latter half of Moneyball. It's a great movie, don't get me wrong, exhaustion simply took over.



Lack of sleep + drink with 8% alcohol = this

And last but not least, I met up with another friend of mine on Sunday who also ditched me for Nor Cal after she graduated with her B.A. I met Yesica as a sophomore in college. She was one of my residents when I was a staff member. We joined folklórico and eventually became teachers in opposite ends of the state. We also ran a close race completing grad school. Her life is now complete-- husband, baby, house, dog, career. I never expected her to wait for me until I caught up with her in relation to these aspects of life but I am very happy for her.

Baby was all smiles when the camera was off, I swear.

I hate spending so little time with these girls. The only thing I can do is seize the precious moments we do share. In between visits, I have to remember to utilize my phone and Facebook the way they were intended to: to keep in touch with my best friends.

How To Lose a Pound in Eight Days

Before you start this significant weight loss program, you have to agree to throw your weekly regime out the door. You must ensure eight blissful days off Super Woman duties to get rid of any excess stress that is scientifically proven to increase fat or inches or numbers on a scale. This includes but is not limited to a Curves workout, blogging, laundry (with the exception of bed sheets because the extreme temperatures will have made you sweat right through them), cleaning, and calling your mother for unnecessary reasons other than the standard Wednesday call. You will not see any results if your body, mind, and spirit don't find a guilt-free place.

Are you ready now? Let's go!

Day 1: On Monday, meet up with your significant other at the Old Spaghetti Factory. Throw on the little black dress you've been hanging on to for emergencies and walk in your stilettos like a high-end hooker towards the bar fifteen minutes prior to the scheduled time. Order a Factory Punch and pretend to watch NBC on the big screen. Relax your shoulders. Perhaps you'll attract the attention of the opposite sex (or the same sex if that's your preference) to build up your self-esteem and make you more desirable when your partner walks in, creating a win-win situation for all. At the table, remember first-date etiquette--be attentive, look into his eyes as he speaks, ask a lot of questions, and tell him your opinion. Execute your manners by not finishing your spaghetti with rich meat sauce. This will take will-power but remember, you won't have to cook later on in the week.

Day 2: On Tuesday, pick up Papa John's pizza for you and your significant other. Not only will he appreciate the impromptu pizza and beer night but love you more for it because that's exactly what he had mentioned craving on Monday night.

Day 3: On Wednesday, stay home and reheat that OSF meal. Then, sit on that couch that you never utilize and watch local programming instead of your Gilmore Girls DVD collection. Don't be embarrassed to laugh out loud at the morons on Wipeout.

Day 4: Work overtime on Thursday so it will become too late to cook. Head to your local Jack in the Box with your man. Order a chicken sandwich with tomato, small fries, and a small drink from the Value Menu. Chew slowly so you can stay full longer.  This will also cause your man to regret his $5.99 burger meal and crave the cheap stuff because you made it look so damn scrumptious.

Day 5: On Friday, head to the Colorado River for the weekend to relieve yourself of the 107-degree weather. Snack on a cheeseburger from McDonald's while you watch a wind storm touch down around you on the I-10. The atomic-bomb looking cloud to your right and the limited visibility before you will distract you, causing Sparky, your man's best friend, to steal a lick of your burger's last bite. But don't worry. This will only give you an excuse to dig into the bag for yet another cheeseburger to make up for the lost piece.

The atomic-bomb cloud

You won't be driving, but you will be paying attention to the road as if you were.

When you arrive at your humble lodging, have some home-made refried beans and flour tortillas; there is nothing like comfort food. Later, head to your local Albertson's to prepare for your Colorado River trip-- a small bag of Flamin' Hot Cheetos that fit into your purse so you won't have to share with the children in your significant other's family, a Family Size bag of Flamin' Hot Cheetos for the kids, cherries, oranges, and water.

The wind storm will touch down where you decided to rest and wake you up at 5am.

Day 6: On Saturday, have some Honey Nut Cheerios for breakfast. The fresh milk will balance out your body temperature. Soon after, grab the Family Size bag of chips you bought because it's on the table. Suck on a couple of those while you watch TV. Around noon, ask your man to make you a ham sandwich. Make it a balanced meal by washing some cherries and keeping the Hot Cheetos close at hand. Around three, have carne con chile with more beans and a flour tortilla. By four, you'll be ready to head to the river with a full stomach. This will allow you to pack light. Tow a couple of bottles of water, the sack of oranges, and the cherries you purchased last night to help keep you hydrated.

What the river will look like

Child's play toys left behind

Children's footprints will seem cute in 116-degree weather

The rainbow you'll see when you get home, which will be replaced by lightning within a couple of minutes

Once home, have Pizza Hut pizza in the cooled down 110-degree temperature outdoors. You will only have one slice of pepperoni because the Cheetos have filled you up like a blimp. That will not stop you from downing an Oreo shake from Carl's Jr., though. Then, take a shower and watch Big Miracle because it is a "feel good" film. And don't forget to grab your Cheetos.

Day 7: On Sunday, grab another bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios before heading to church. You've fainted before and don't want to take away the attention of the locals on your weekend excursion. Ignore the cell phone ringing in the pew behind you but do give the man an annoyed look when he answers. Shake your head when he answers a second time but remember that God is the only one allowed to judge him. After mass, follow the crowd to Denny's and order the Grand Slamwich. You might have never been a sausage fan before but you will change your disposition after your first bite. Help it go down with a strawberry lemonade. Back at your resting quarters, eat a few more Cheetos before hiding the bag away for good. At 3pm, have a grilled chicken leg, three tostadas with the chile rojo, and another flour tortilla to go with more beans because it'll be months before you have another meal like that again.

Day 8: On Monday, return to your regular schedule. Eat oatmeal for breakfast, a snack-size amount of Planter's Energy Mix nuts, Lean Cuisine for lunch, cherries as a second snack, a Fiber One granola bar after work, and 3/4 cup of Special K Vanilla Almond cereal before heading to Curves. Complete the 30-minute workout, stretch, do 60 crunches, and then hold your breath as you step on the scale. You did it! You lost one pound without even trying! Your five-foot, seven-inch frame hadn't weighed 134 since high school. That is something to be proud of.

Repeat every couple of months.

(Disclaimer: Individual results not typical and will vary. If you decide to commit to this non-diet program, make sure you partake in the activities mentioned above in temperatures that exceed 100 degrees to increase your chances.)

Building Character

I just went to my six-month dental check-up and the first thing the dentist told the assistant to jot in my file was, "Ortho, ortho, ortho."  It happens every six months.  A new dentist sees me and refers me to the orthodontist.  I give the same response every time: I've already seen him...twice.  Not interested.

I have always been aware of my need for braces.  In second grade, my top left central incisor came out before my baby one had fallen out.  As a result, the new one pushed the baby one outward. The rows of teeth I was acquiring caused my teacher concern.

"You need to go to the dentist," she said.
I've been conscious about my teeth ever since.

I visited the dentist as a kid a couple of times.  I remember the negative-looking x-rays that used to be hung on a lit wall-hanging and the pain of getting fillings even after getting shot with a dose of anesthesia.  But it wasn't until I was in high school and in love with one of the football players that I started to desire a perfect smile so I could possibly, perhaps, maybe have the balls to approach him.  I had an ortho consultation and got an estimate of the cost but my dad said he couldn't afford it.  To hold me over what were supposed to be the best years of my life, a dentist filled in a yellowing tooth with a cavity, my top left latelar incisor.  My improved smile didn't get me the guy but it did postpone my want for braces for over a decade.

A few years ago, I noticed a trend within women my age.  Three of my friends were being mistaken for teenagers after obtaining shiny metal contraptions in their mouths.  They were finally tackling an aesthetic issue their fathers couldn't afford in the 90s either.  So I considered braces again, not wanting to be featured in the last page of a fashion magazine with a black bar across my eyes for failing to follow the latest style.  I saw an ortho for the second time but was deterred by talk of permanent retainers.  Knowing I'd have to wear retainers to sleep for the rest of my life was one deal breaker. A second was the two-year commitment followed by the thousands of dollars I was going to have to shell out.  I was in grad school at the time and used that as an excuse as to why I couldn't afford them then.  But since I graduated, I say that I'm saving the money for a down payment on a house. 

The truth is that my teeth don't bother me that much anymore.  After another dentist touched up my yellow tooth in January, I felt they way I assume people feel when they have their braces removed.  I felt confident, relieved that I no longer had to look down when I laughed to hide my most obvious dental imperfection, and thankful for not just having one "good side" anymore when it came to getting my picture taken.  My bottom teeth are the ones that are crooked anyway and since you can't notice them in pictures, I let go of the braces idea.  My previous dentist told me straightening my teeth would help flossing and cleaning, etcetera, etcetera, but those were my healthiest teeth and gums according to my last visit.  Plus, if celebrities choose to live with crooked teeth, so can I, a regular person with a regular job doing regular things.

Take the most famous one, for example, Jewel.  I still have her first album, Pieces of You.  I remember being in ninth grade when my best friend Aurora gave me the cassette for my birthday inside a jewelry box. Get it?  Jewel in a jewelry box? Moving right along....She is infamous for her crooked teeth.  I think it was her who was quoted saying that messed-up teeth builds character.  I'm going to take her advice and run with it.  I know she recently tweeted a picture with straight choppers but the way I understood it, she was sporting that smile for a movie role only. 

My next example might be hard to believe, but Scarlett Johansson caught my eye in The Avengers, and not because she had an enviable body in that leather costume.  One of her lateral incisors is overlapping a front tooth and that was I all could focus on whenever she appeared in a scene.

If you look closely, you'll see what I'm talking about.  I think she pouts so she can hide it but she couldn't escape my eye.

And last but not least, there is Will Farrell, who shares my problem: a crooked set of lower pearly whites.  His are worse than mine.  It was hard not to notice them in Step Brothers.  Here's a bad looking scene. 

And with that, I leave you with a picture of my friend and me.  We have probably spent the equivalent of a set of braces on other dental procedures without the need of twisted wires, rubber bands, or retainers.  I consider ourselves lucky.

What crooked teeth??? We are flawless!

Pride and Prejudice. No, just pride.

Have you ever fought for love?  I never had until two weeks ago.  I kicked my boyfriend out of my apartment and I sat at my table contemplating the repercussions as he descended the stairs.  This could be the end, I thought.  But I had fallen head over heels with the pair of earrings he had just given me and I wasn't about to lose them. 

It all started when I spotted the rectangular wooden earrings with a turquoise square in the middle at an antique shop.  I was actually birthday shopping for a friend, looking for a piece of jewelry to add the to the scarf-thing I had bought for her on clearance at Aldo's.  I thought the earrings were funky enough for her but Leo thought a pair of yellow ones hanging above were more her taste.  I didn't really like them, plus the wooden ones were priced just right at $13, rounding the total amount spent on those who fall more on the acquaintance side than the friends side just under my $25 limit.  I fetched a worker so she could get them out of the glass case and it wasn't until she opened it that I clearly read  that they were $31.  You see, I had just had a very refreshing margarita for around $5 that apparently made numbers dance in my head.  I felt bad for having bothered the girl because I wasn't going to pay that much money for a single item.  Hoping  to make a purchase still, I asked her for the price on the yellow earrings.
"Fifteen dollars," she said. 
Consumed with embarrassment and laziness, I took them.  But not before pointing to the wooden ones and telling Leo, "Remember those because I want them for Christmas." 

Three days later, Leo made a pit stop at my place.  I couldn't add a video to my blog so I asked him to help me.  We live five minutes from each other but we never hang out during the week so his visit was a big deal.  Such a big deal, as a matter of fact, that he wanted me to clearly state how appreciative I was of him for taking time from his busy schedule to do this for me.  But all he got was a standard MP response.
"If you have stuff to do, go do it.  I'll manage."
His demand upset me.  I don't like to be told what to do.  And although, according to the book The 5 Love Languages, he needs to be praised a lot to feel loved, I'm working my way to such demonstrative acts at the speed of a snail.  What he didn't know was that I was going to thank him in chicken enchiladas en salsa verde. 

Since we were both already a little heated when he arrived, it wasn't a surprise when the discussion we were having turned into an argument.  We have different views about parenting and children and he didn't like what I was saying about his role as an uncle versus a buddy.  Leo claims that I go against him on purpose so I can simply disagree with him but that isn't true. Except that night. I was growing giddy inside as I watched him get more frustrated but I didn't let it show.  When we started going around in circles he said, "We'll just have to agree to disagree." Then he plopped himself on the couch and took out his lethal weapon, the cell phone.  I really hate that thing.

A minute later, his phone rang.  It was his colleague.  Leo left the apartment to retrieve some papers from his car.  I stepped away from the kitchen to turn my Gilmore Girls on.  When I grabbed the remote from the coffee table, I noticed a squared gray box.  I was very confused at first.  I couldn't remember if I had left wrapping materials behind.  After a second, it hit me that it must have been Leo who had placed it there for me to find.  I picked it up and panicked.  I panic every time Leo gives me a small jewelry box because I'm afraid I'll respond, "No," to his proposal before thinking about it (I want a house and a nice wedding and we are financially unequipped right now).  But the box was the perfect shape for a bracelet, although I hadn't seen any that I liked lately.  And that's when it hit me: the antique shop earrings.  A big toothy smile appeared on my face when I proved my suspicion right.  It was also immediately followed by terrible guilt for having given him a hard time minutes before.  To make it up to him, I turned up the ambiance--I opened a bottle of wine and lit up some candles.  He had been trying (and succeeding) very hard lately to be romantic and I didn't want to discourage him from continuing to fulfill my love language.      

Leo gave me these mini red roses about a month ago alongside a lovely card. They have outlived the equivalent of four or five bouquets.  My man knows how to make it last.  

He was still on the phone when he came back so I started washing some dishes to kill time.  I was giggling the entire time, wanting to text my friend Sophia and sister Jackie about my great find but I didn't want Leo to catch me mid-message.  I controlled myself when I finished and went to see what was holding him up because he had sought privacy in my room.  He was now speaking to a different person so I returned to the kitchen to set the table.  I was debating how to announce my surprise.  Should I blurt it out when he took his first bite?  Should I wait until we sat on the couch to watch TV?  Or should I pretend not to have noticed anything at all until he handed me the box himself?  I hadn't decided what route I was going to take when he emerged from the bedroom. 

He was on a new level of upset.  The last conversation had hit a nerve and there was no calming him down.  I tried to make him see the other side of things but he didn't let me get a word in.  So I shut up and let him vent.  I mean, that's what we girls need sometimes, a listener.  So I listened as I ate the delicious enchiladas I had prepared.  At the end of his ramble, he accused me of being incompassionate in a very loud tone a.k.a. yelling.  So I kicked him out. 

My insides battled over my decision as he walked down those stairs again.  I sat at the kitchen table uncharacteristically aware of my breathing.   Every exhale was accompanied by a punch and it worsened with the next breath.  I didn't know if I should chase after him.  I mean, I knew I should but that would mean that he would have won.  Won what?  I don't know.  Maybe making a fool out of me,  thus losing the strong and independant image I have created for myself.  We had been sufferring pretty frequent highs and lows lately.  Maybe this was our last straw, the end of our era, I can take a hint from the stars above.  If that is what fate had in store for us, our seperate ways, then I would welcome singlehood.  But the punches in my stomach told me otherwise.  They said that sitting there and letting him walk away was wrong.  Even though I felt sad about what had just happened, my eyes were devoid of tears and I knew I was going to be unable to cry this one out.  Then the earrings crossed my mind.  They were exactly where he had left them.  The innocent inanimate objects would be forever tainted with reminisces of his horrible night if I kept them and I didn't want that at all.  So for the first time in my life, I put on my big girl pants, set my pride aside, pushed the chair back, grabbed my keys, and left my apartment.  I grabbed the trashbag I had set outside to remind me to throw it away and ran down the stairs.  One of my neighbors was smoking outside his place so I tried to be nonchalant, feinging that my heart wasn't pounding in my chest for fear of losing my boyfriend. 

"Hi," I said to my neighbor with the fried lungs. 

"Hey, how you doin," he replied.

"It's nicer out here than it is in there, isn't it," I said, referring to the summer heat.

As I walked at a normal pace to the trash bin, I noticed that Leo was stuck inside the complex.  The gate only opens with a clicker no matter what direction you're going.  I let out a sigh of relief and headed towards his car.  After I thought I was out of my neighbor's sight, I picked up my pace.  I pulled up next to him and said, "Park."  I wasn't going to let him think that I had left all of my hard-headedness upstairs.  He followed my instructions.  I sat in the car and said, "We need to talk because I want those earrings."

*          *          *

We talked.  We agreed that we had both been wrong and had a lot to work on.  I asked him to take the earrings back and give them to me again so they wouldn't be associated with that night but he didn't want to. 

"They are yours," he said.  "I wanted them to put a smile on your face."

Los malditos earrings.
"Teacher, tus aretes parecen un telefono."

Got the earrings and my man--I win!

Intro

Hello,

My name is MP and I am Mary Poppins.  Kidding!  I don't believe that at all, I just dress like her for Halloween.  It was really easy. I thrifted a blue Jessica McClintock skirt from the Salvation Army for under three dollars.  Then I hit up the $.99 Store and got a hat, bought some plastic daisies from the Dollar Tree and glued them on.  I picked a white collared shirt from my closet along with a long black coat and finished the costume off with tall black boots.  The only item I paid retail price for were the short white Minnie Mouse gloves.  I know my coworkers were being nice when they said that if teaching didn't work out for me I should apply for the Mary Poppins gig in the Disneyland parade but it totally made my day.  I make my students watch this classic at the end of the school year because I don't think neither Cars nor Up can stimulate their imaginations the way Mary Poppins can.  I'm not going to lie, it's hard for a seven-year old to sit through the entire thing but that's why there's a Skip button on the DVD player.  I make sure to play the best scenes, like when Mary, Jane, and Michael tidy up the nursery, laugh in the ceiling, and dance on the rooftops.  It never fails that at the end of the movie a student asks me, "Is Mary Poppins real?"  To which I reply, "Of course," and then think to myself, She's standing right in front of you.  This is really why I teach, to give 20 children at a time a piece of Mary Poppins.  If all else fails, at least they'll remember me every time they hear her name. Sign your child up now for the 2013-14 school year! 

Mexican Mary Poppins carrying the extra weight on my face. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention the scarf. Also part of my original wardrobe. I'll blame the double chin on that.

My Mary Poppins collection is small--Minnie Mary Poppins, a vintage 1964 original cast sound track, a Gold Edition VHS, the book by P.L. Travers, a 40th Anniversary DVD, and another vintage 1964 book and record--but I dare you to find someone you know with a bigger one.

Mary Poppins is so popular that she made it into the Gilmore Girls script; my two favorite shows in one.  I was watching season 4, episode 1 of my DVD collection when Luke made reference to her.  He took a snub at my idol but I don't think it reflected the writer's true feelings towards the movie.  I want to believe that Amy Sherman-Palladino wrote what she thought Luke would have said according to his character. 

A Gilmore Girls collection might be kind of odd for a thirty year-old woman to own but I think it's the right combination of Friends and Sex in the City, my mature friend's picks.  Lorelai, the mother, goes through the love drama, while Rory, her daughter, lives and learns with her friends.  I used to have cable up until April but I cancelled it because it was easier to watch my DVDs during dinner instead of flipping through 200 channels to find something good.  Paying one-hundred dollars for a weekly episode of Fashion Police wasn't worth it. Okay, sometimes it was because no one is as ruthless as Joan Rivers.  For about three weeks, before I bought a digital converter box, I entertained myself by watching The View online, reading my friend's blog (http://lasophialasophia.blogspot.com/), and viewing my other friend's vlog (http://www.youtube.com/user/TheCottonShow).  Now, I'm lucky if I catch any programming because the antenna sucks; it only works when I physically hold it waist-high.  Since I have zero patience, I give up and succumb to my Gilmore Girls who relax me anyway.  After a long day of work, gym, and chores, I need a good laugh and Palladino was a genius when she created the show's characters.  As a matter of fact, I wish I was Lorelai, my modern-day Mary Poppins.  She is beautiful, smart, well read, witty, tall, slim, runs her own business, drives a Jeep, and owns her house.  I'm only a couple of books and a house away from becoming her, actually. I admire Lorelai so much that I would name a future daughter of mine Lorelai but it would never work. My Mexican family would butcher its pronunciation on purpose, leaving me no choice but to find a name that works well in English and Spanish like Cristina or something.

I leave you now with the scene I mentioned above.  It didn't want to appear as a video clip.  It's a minute long so don't be intimidated by the big bad link. Spit, spot!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d0mbK_yT8bY

-MP