Archive | January, 2012

A Festering Pile

27 Jan

Okay, I have seen this picture before. It is not my photo and I don’t know who took it. But I had seen this one, or a version of it, before one of my Facebook friends shared it with me this morning. And admittedly, the fact that fast food is not good for me,(duh),is something I should have realized on my own back when I was gobbling it up daily and a year later while vacuuming my car would find perfectly, in tact french fries. I hardly remember those days but if I had to guess finding the fries most likely led to me driving over to McDonalds. Perhaps that is the goal. To make ‘food’ that will not decompose as a reminder. A Pet Cemetery version of a past meal, reaching out. Beckoning. “Eat me….”rattling chains.


B and I do not have kids, which I have mentioned before is CRAZY considering I’m in my early 30’s and Hispanic. Especially to Mexi’s I meet. It’s not, “do you have kids?” it’s “how many kids do you have”, and nobody asks if I am married because it is irrelevant. One of my El Paso friends once told a story of how some Chicano girls called their friends over to meet her once they found out she had never been pregnant. Well, that is what I get now. I am an anomaly. Other races find it normal, but other Latinos take a few steps back then make the sign of the cross. We will eventually make or get a kid and I have a list of lessons I cannot wait to teach. This one I came up with on the front porch, drunk, smoking a cigarette staring at our compost pile.

First we will watch this video:
The Symphony of Science
Then we will make a meal together or a fresh juice engaging in conversation about the video.
Then we will take the scraps of food, skins and stems, outside to the pile.
And then I will say:

“Baby B, do you remember when we had dinner last week and mommy went outside and put the leftovers in the dirt? Well, they went back to the earth and made more dirt. And we came from dirt and when we die, we will go back to the earth. So this is why it is important to put good things in our bodies, to be good to ourselves and to the earth, because we are all connected.”

And then Baby B will say:

“Mom, you so crazy!” (our future kid loves old episodes of Martin. I know, kids!)

Anyway, I don’t have the time this morning to really get into this post as much as I’d like to, but I want the self-hatred and pressure out of your mind when it comes to food and dieting. Don’t diet or work so hard to change your diet. Take baby steps. And when you are hungry, eat. But before you decide on what to put in your mouth, ask not, “Is this meal good for me?” ask, “By eating this meal, am I being good to myself?” And be honest. And I love you! You are special and yes, it is not often but sometimes I smoke. Deal with it.

Life with Sexy B

27 Jan

My Favorite Photos of B doing Sexy Things

B getting ready for our reception.

B fixing the car

B fixing the car


B making up songs at home

B making up songs at home

B chainsawing a fallen tree from his mom's

B chainsawing a fallen tree at his mom’s

B drumming.

B changing my tire in the rain

B changing my tire in the rain

Health, Mom and The Occupy Movement Part One

26 Jan

Last night a lobbyist friend I hadn’t seen in a while asked with a sarcastic grin, “So, how’s the occupying going?”.  I get teased about my political posts and for having joined in marches and rallies but I have also had people come to me and say, they had no idea what Occupy Wall St. was until they saw it pop up on my Facebook page.  When the public was still unsure of what the movement stood for (or against really), there were a lot of “get a job, stop whining, you have an iPhone and hate corporations” posts which I battled my virtual friends over.  I whittled people’s annoyed and misinformed ideas down to a final comment to the tune of, yeah, I guess something needs to change…(I cheated by saying, “there’s nothing wrong with wanting a better America”,because seriously there is not and obviously no one in a public forum would disagree with that statement).  Now, months later, people are more aware of just how bad and unbalanced things are and a new dialogue exists of what we can do to push for some positive change.  Occupy went from not being reported on at all to getting shout outs on mainstream television shows, not news, but prime-time, scripted shows.  I laughed out loud  recently when an old bitty staring at a restaurant t.v. next to me, shook her head in disapproval, turned to her friend and said, “it’s all that corporate greed.”  It was sooooo cute and totally cool.  But I feel that the focus is too much on what the banks are doing and we are all overlooking another group of corporate greeders.  A group that has a bigger affect on our everyday lives.

We are a fortunate enough country to be able to eat and drink many many times a day.  Too many, probably.  And in my Carrie Bradshaw head voice, I can’t help but wonder, why is no one shouting and holding signs about how sick everybody is?  About why instead of being educated on how our bodies can’t and shouldn’t have to try to process certain chemicals, we are fed expensive medicine and more poison.  Why is this the only alternative?  It’s made to keep us breathing but not to cure anything.

What does it even mean to “eat right”?  Low fat?  Diet Sodas? Frozen diet foods we radiate to eat?  There is much money being paid to mask what is out there and even more money to be lost, it seems, if everyone were made aware, started getting healthy and stopped taking their pills; stopped having unnecessary procedures done; stop getting heart disease, diabetes, or cancer…

My beautiful mother had a weird lump in one of her breasts.  She had had a mammogram a month or so prior that eased her mind then but later wasn’t convincing enough to stop her from being bothered by this thing she kept bringing up to my sister and me.  Finally, sick of hearing about it, my sister dialed her doctor and in a half annoyed half concerned voice ordered her to “make an appointment then!” her arm pushing the phone towards mom.  My sister has a real way about her.  She could have a gang banger nodding and yes ma’aming in a matter of minutes.  My mother use to be this way.  Our house was where cousins were sent to shape up.  A sort of scared straight program.  A few tests and it was confirmed, mom had cancer.  It was the scariest thing I had ever heard and my first thought was a selfish one.  If she dies, who will keep me from killing myself?

My mother had always been modest when it came to her body.  We rarely saw her in a swimsuit.  Even with a no frills bra on she would cover herself with a t-shirt or towel and scadaddle through the house from the bath to bedroom. Finally in her fifties, after being squished, poked and fondled by strangers she didn’t care.  I mean, they were going to be gone soon anyway.  She took off her smock for the before picture and I had to fight the tears.  They. were. spectacular.  I finally knew where I had gotten mine from.  My breasts have always been a great source of pride for me.  I have been told by many how great they are and back in my twenties showed them to anyone interested in seeing them and now I have no regrets or shame about it.  Today they are for B’s eyes only, their audience another casualty of marriage.  But I digress… It broke my heart she had kept them hidden from the world all those years and now they were only diseased fat to be scraped out of her chest.

In preparation of treatment she was given a book on what to eat throughout chemo/radiation depending on how she was feeling.  If she became nauseous or a day after treatment it’s better to eat blank, sort of stuff.  I couldn’t get through it nor shake the feeling that something had made her sick and fuck that stupid book on how to feel better through ice cream and popsicles.  This is when I became interested in what makes people ill.  This is when I started to take a look at what we are not being told about nutrition.  Her treatment began and I raided her pantry and fridge.  Crap.  It was all crap.  Cola’s, fruit drinks, chips, shit lunch meat, overly processed cheese.  Genetically altered everything.  What most people fill their carts with knowingly or un.  After her first big surgery I stayed two weeks, making her breakfasts, lunches, and dinners.  All organic fruit and veggies. All wild, grass fed, free range, two car garage having animals.  I emptied her drainage ‘grenades’, bathed and dressed her.  This is what we are suppose to do for our parents but not when they are so young still.  She shuffled in stop motion throughout the house slower than my grandmother did in her old age.  Later my sister and I joined her in a cancer walk. While walking laps around a track, fundraisers sold chili cheese dogs, burgers, cakes and cookies.  There was one booth of High School students selling fruit cups that no one was buying.  The more I learned the more I hounded my mother on my visits home.  I was practically slapping food out of her hands.    Checking the fridge with aggressive expressions.  “It’s not mine!” One would have thought I’d found a bag of weed.  THAT would have been okay with me.  But not Fritos. Not the microwavable Mac and Cheese.  Not the leftover chicken  from Chili’s.  Not the cokes. “Those aren’t for me they’re for my company!”  “So, you want your friends to be sick?”  Trash. My mother was being scolded by her baby.  A year later, under stress she cried into her breakfast accusing me of only come home to search her house and criticize.  I cried too and more months go by before I ask her who she thinks is going to take care of her when she is unable to, so lets be well for as long as we can because I just got married and B and I have our own lives.  This isn’t to be cruel. Little by little she is responding.  We gave her a juicer.  It sits on a shelf to the side of her kitchen.  When I have her on the phone she lists off what good things she ate that day and how I would have been proud of her for eating that salad for lunch instead of what her friends were eating. I know it was swimming in ranch but keep quiet apart from daughterly praise, “That’s great, mom!”  She is still mad that the lump was missed on the X-ray.  It was there, almost on the edge of the film.  She wrote a nasty note when she sent in her last payment.  I am mad there are warning labels on cigarettes and not food.  That pizza is a vegetable.  That children have diabetes because they are too fat because no one has educated their parents on what to buy or how to live.  I am angry that better, less processed food is more expensive.  That cancer is a Western problem that we are exporting to other countries hungry to pick up our bad habits and all the sick that comes with them.  (This is not to say other countries don’t have it but to say, we’ve got it the worst.)But the day my mother and I were driving home and she talked about how animals are not the same kind of animals they use to be.  That there must be something different because older generations didn’t have all these problems, a light shone into the car and I had hope.


First Ever Movie Trailer Review DVD edition

19 Jan

1.Contagion Gwyneth Paltrow Dies. No chance of hearing her stupid British accent throughout this film. What’s that you say? L, she’s not even British! Well, exactly. But you know who is? Kate Winslet, and I didn’t see her talking all weird, because she loves America. See this movie.  I give it five thumbs up.

2.Fifty/Fifty This movie is suppose to be a true story about how Joseph Gordon Levitt can’t score with chicks unless he tricks them into thinking he has Cancer.  Although it looks hilarious, I just don’t buy it.  Have these sluts never seen Inception?  Hmmmm.  I’m going to give this two poopie faces and maybe one ehhh.

3. The Tree of Life In this Benjamin Buttons documentary we see Benny in his infancy.  How his death creates an alternate universe and how he is reincarnated as new Button’s baby, Sean Penn.  I don’t know about you but this movie looks really interesting and not at all difficult to follow.  Looks like this is going to be one for the kiddos.  I give this a dolphin, a chinese star, a volcano and an aubergine.  Why?  Well, if we just saw the same preview, no explanation is needed.


The Opposite of Sleep #hashtag everything

19 Jan

If it is not the dreams keeping me from good sleep it is being awake thinking how I would rather be dreaming. Every night B hears the same pathetic, soft, frowny, “I am sleepy”, before he puts me to bed. It is mostly women who have this anxious insomnia because if the day is not planned before it starts, nothing will ever get done. B on the other hand, has the same plan 5 days a week. Snooze alarm for hour to annoy wife. Get dressed. Go to work. Get food to belly. Home. Sex,(hopefully). Repeat. Sex. Repeat. Sex. Repeat. Sorry. It is sleep then repeat.

Even when I was not working I hardly had the time to do everything I wanted. Now, forgeddaboutit. Worst 6a.m. Italian accent ever #MickeyBlueEyesbad. Before I had to worry about yet, another restaurant, it was the puppies whining, or the garbage truck emptying the dumpster at four a.m., which btw, if the rent is really cheap, you might want to look out the bedroom window. If there is large green box in full view or train tracks, reconsider, #itisalwayssomething. (I decided I will hashtag everything in real life, in case you missed it, even in speak.)

So, as a personal promise, I will be blogging more often, (since I am up anyway), and not just on how great my gorgeous husband is. I notice people do not like this. Normally I would say f*%# off because trust me, I put in my time and kissed some pretty bad frogs before I bagged this guy, but I do have many interests that gushing over my husband most of my hours actually keep me from. I will also be redesigning my site, (by “I”, I mean B #I<3parentheses) changing it to include some new stuff such as.... My reviews of yelp reviews. I shall call it Yhelp! I'm still working on that. One of the things keeping me up since 3. This is where I will review those who think they know something about the service industry, what quality is, or take themselves too seriously. If you use "polarization that can occur" and "kitschy space" in the same sentence, I'm coming to get you. Movie reviews based on trailers alone because who has time to actually go to the movies? #meunemployedforthreemonths. Some fashion don't and really don'ts maybe.... Oh, and some Dr. Phil tellin-it-like-it-is truths about health in America. Example, if you have type 2 Diabetes and you eat like shit, stop it. No one feels sorry for you. You are killing yourself. You are a fucking idiot and probably fat and you have only yourself to blame. Or something like that. That one is really directed toward my kid readers. Exciting stuff, right? I also joined Twitter so if you just cannot get enough of my sacred thoughts you can follow me @nfotm. Is that how it works? I really have no idea. I joined, got a bunch of twitter sluts, they figured out I am not a man and now they have stopped following me so....yeah.#pathetic And being right brainily-self absorbed there is also a nfotm YouTube where you can see all the exciting adventures of B and I#didiusethatright? Well, I think that's it. You will soon know all there is to know about this girl, my likes #myworldandeverythinginit and dislikes #everything else. B's alarm has gone off for the fourth time so I'd better get the coffee going. Hope to see you checking us out soon. #encouragingstalking


4 Jan

B:”Honey, I enjoy you fondling me but not when I have my hands in a burning hot oven. Perhaps at safer times.”

Me:”I saw a video of a dog having sex with a woman.”
Me:”NO! Not today.”
B:”It’s a little word I like to call, “once”.”