Monthly Archives: January 2011

College Friends

I just got off the phone with a person I consider to be my friend. We went to community college together. I transferred to UCLA but she didn’t get accepted. My friend, Kelly, did get accepted to UC Santa Cruz but turned the opportunity down to stay close to her boyfriend. I respect her decision to a certain degree- The plan for the Mrs. and I has always been to go to the same school, or at least try to; so I would have gone to any school or city just to be with her. But nothing was holding the guy to L.A. He just had some part-time job. He could have gone to Santa Cruz with her and get the same job there. But this isn’t about him.

I haven’t seen Kelly since last summer. I miss her terribly and I regret that our friendship feels so far away. I have the prospect of seeing her next Wednesday for a screening at UCLA. I say the prospect because she needs to confirm with the boyfriend before telling me she’s coming for sure tomorrow. I mentioned during our conversation that I feel like some people drift away and they shouldn’t. “It’d be different if I were going to UCLA,” she said with a hint of sadness in her voice. “It doesn’t have to be this way,” I replied.

It doesn’t have to be this way. Friends you meet in college shouldn’t be just friends during a semester or a quarter- but it sure feels like that’s the trend nowadays. No one wants to get attached. Or maybe it is at some point just a friendship of convenience- you know, “let’s be friends so we can study together”… and then, “it was nice meeting you. Peace.”

Maybe I’ll get to see her this Wednesday and convince myself that our friendship is somewhat strong to make it through this. And if it isn’t, I still hope to hear from her again. Maybe we should stop being on Facebook and leaving messages on walls and rather hang out and have some physical interaction. Maybe friendships would be stronger this way.

-Mrs. This One

Summer: Looking Ahead

Birthday dinner awaits!

When I was little, I always looked forward to going to college. According to the mainstream movies, college was all about going to class, hanging out with friends, tailgating and football games. According to the harsh reality, college is all about trying to keep up with homework while also having a real job, being sleep deprived, and never being able to do anything else. So here we are looking at what our summer schedules will look like.

Although I am excited with the prospect of taking French, Political Violence and a class about Congress, I can already tell that the possibility of having a somewhat relaxing summer is slim at best. Studying abroad won’t be an option either- because as crazy amazing as it sounds, we’ve realized that we can’t afford to leave for a month and not work. But the opportunity will come around again, I’m sure.

This isn’t a negative post though- staying busy is always gonna better than not being busy, right? And in light of being busy, I gotta go take the Mrs. out for her birthday dinner. After debating for so long, we decided to go to Stefan’s at L.A. Farm.

-Mrs. This One

Planning the Honeymoon

Because we had been talking about marriage recently, my wife caught me by surprise the other day when she asked me where I’d like to go for our honeymoon. It could be because we’re trying to barely make it by with our salaries, or that because our “wedding” is far from being legal, but I have never given this issue any real thought. It should make sense though- most people know that they’re going to get married and go on their honeymoon eventually, so they plan for it for a long time. I think.

After her question, I just kept quiet. Unlike the Mrs. who has been to Canada, Mexico, England and Ireland, the furthest I’ve gone from home has been… well, California. Following the silence she asked me to simply name the place I’ve always been wanting to go to. “Egypt! But not for a honeymoon,” I said. So where would I like to go? Hawaii? Canada? Italy? Greece? England? I’m truly not sure. How do you even begin to pick a place?

It is obvious that we’re not going anytime soon but you can’t blame a girl from fantasizing. Although I don’t travel much, it is still my desire to do so. So maybe I can start planning for that trip now. Whenever it happens.

-Mrs. This One

Noisy Frat Boys Ruined my Life

When we first moved to this apartment (read about it here), we thought we have found the perfect place to live in. Nice and cozy, close to campus, and as far as we could tell, quiet. We seriously thought we were living in Perfectland. We, however, moved here during the summer and never considered that to be a factor of upcoming trouble. This explains why comes the week before the beginning of Fall, we woke up to the bitter reality that we live surrounded by fraternities.

Look at us, we're chiseled and drunk!

It didn’t take long for us to expect not to get much sleep over the weekends. Sure we could sleep in for the most part, but nothing like wanting to sleep but not being able to because of someone else. Well, humans are creatures of habit and we adapt, so we did. We gave up sleeping with fresh air because the windows had to be kept closed overnight- and we also apologized to the plants for doing this. We learned to stay awake for longer, even if tired. So yes, we did adapt.

The problem with this scenario is that parties are not exclusively a weekend thing- I mean, alcohol is sold all week long, right? Now imagine having to wake up at 5am on Friday to go to work when the frat boys decide to have a party on the Thursday prior. Yes, my thoughts exactly. But this wasn’t like any other party.

When we checked the mail on Wednesday night, we found a note on our building’s front door warning us that the Delta Tau Delta house was having a party the following night. I looked at my wife and muttered something that included the word “police.” As we made our way to the grocery store, I kept whining about how I wasn’t going to be able to sleep at all the following night. I was decided to call the police on the night of the party. Not as a party pooper, but as a girl having to wake up that early to work an eight-hour shift, followed by a class.  But by the time we made it back to the apartment, I remembered that the frat in questions was DTD.

In the same warning on the front door, three DTD guys left their phone numbers- “if we get too loud, give us a call.” Who does that?! I thought at first that this may have been just a courtesy to prevent others to call the proper authority, but I saved one of the numbers just in case. As the time came closer to midnight, the music was booming as if it were coming from the apartment next to us. The more time passed, the less time I had to rest. “We should call.”

I didn’t want to call though, so I sent a text to the number I saved. As polite as possible, I asked for the music to be turned down a bit. And to my surprise, they DID turn the music down. I have always had a negative views of fraternities but I must say that the Delta boys are proof that there is still some hope for our generation.

Yes, noisy frat boys around us ruined the fantasy of the perfect apartment, but at least I was able to sleep some last night. Thank you Delta boys.

-Mrs. This One

Guess What Mom & Dad…

So, I’m very embarrassed and more than ever frustrated with myself, but I have a confession to make. Despite the fact that my parents have been nothing but supportive of my sexuality; Despite the fact that my family has embraced my wife better than I could have imagined, I have yet to tell my parents about our domestic partnership.

It’s not like I don’t want to, but it’s been so long since it happened that I feel like they’ll be offended, and worse, disappointed. “Why didn’t you tell us?” Or my sister, “Why didn’t you talk to me about it? You could have at least told me.” As my wife can tell you, I hate conflict, and for financial aid purposes, it has recently become necessary for me to tell my parents so that they can sign a form saying that they won’t claim me for 2010 taxes. I need to do it soon also as the FAFSA is due in just over a month, and the form is due way before this.

Today, I’ve been thinking up ways to do it. Should I tell my mom only and have her break the news to my dad? Should I tell them both at once to be fair? How do I start? “Mom, Dad, I got married” or “Mom, Dad, I eloped” is more proper. “Mom, I have good news and bad news. The bad news is I was afraid to tell you I got married, but the good news is I get a lot more aid starting soon!” Any suggestions?

I feel like an awful daughter and an even more awful wife. It’s not at all that I’m ashamed to have gotten married. I couldn’t have imagined it any other way. Even the fact that it wasn’t necessarily the most romantic “wedding” (standing in a Mailboxes, etc., waiting to see the notary before saying our “I Do’s,” while people flooded the office during the 4:55 PM rush to get things mailed out after work) doesn’t bother me. To be honest, I’ve never wanted a big wedding, and just having my wife by my side was perfect enough for me.

Well anyone out there, wish me luck! I’ll need it…

Of Family Dynamics

As a child of a broken home, I grew up to the care of my grandmother and books. This never quite bothered me as I was always a happy child. However, now grown and in the process of working on what I can now call my own family, I realize that my life was (and still is) way too far from the ordinary.

My mother is a great woman. She wants to do a lot of good but the problem is that she hasn’t quite figured out how to do so. I love her and I want her to be happy, but I don’t know if she’ll ever reach that happiness. The good thing is that she never stops looking for it. I just wish she would have been a bigger part of my life. Maybe that will change once she meets my wife. For better or for worse.

I don’t really know my dad anymore. I haven’t talked to him in ages. He’s been trying to get in touch with me but I don’t really want him to. I wouldn’t even know what to say to him. Maybe that I will be a better parent than he could ever be. Yep, that sounds about right.

My brother is a few years older than me and he has nothing going on for him. He has dropped out of several different colleges and I don’t think he knows what to do next. He’s clearly a mix of my parents. I could have been adopted- but no one will say for sure. I try to talk to him about life but he always gets offended by this. After all I am the younger sister who is a lesbian.

My grandma is my shining star. I haven’t seen her in forever but I think about her everyday. She never finished middle school and still handled my homosexuality better than anyone else did. “As long as you’re happy,” the old lady said. She too needs more happiness in her life. She’s in love with my grandpa but I don’t think he knows what love is. He certainly can’t show that he does.

There are more characters in this play but I think these will do for now.

You know those independent films that show people who are so weird and have so much going on for them that you think it can only happen in movies? I think it does happen all the time. My family is a great example. I don’t think they know what being a family means but they still cope somehow. Maybe that’s why everyone is so unhappy? Because they haven’t quite figured out that family is all what matters?

I really hope not to become anything like them. I love them all but they’re nowhere close to the person I am and want to be.

-Mrs. This One

What is Love?

So it’s not quite Valentine’s Day yet, but when I was using StumbleUpon today, I came across this article written by Rowland Croucher (and others). It’s titled, “What Does Love Mean to a Four-Year-Old?” Enjoy!

“A group of professional people posed this question to a group of 4 to 8 year-olds, “What does love mean?”

The answers they got were broader and deeper than anyone could have imagined. See what you think:

“When my grandmother got arthritis, she couldn’t bend over and paint her toenails anymore. So my grandfather does it for her all the time, even when his hands got arthritis too. That’s love.” Rebecca- age 8

“When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You just know that your name is safe in their mouth.” Billy – age 4

“Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on shaving cologne and they go out and smell each other.” Karl – age 5

“Love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of your French fries without making them give you any of theirs.” Chrissy – age 6

“Love is what makes you smile when you’re tired.” Terri – age 4

“Love is when my mommy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes a sip before giving it to him, to make sure the taste is OK.” Danny – age 7

“Love is when you kiss all the time. Then when you get tired of kissing, you still want to be together and you talk more. My Mommy and Daddy are like that. They look gross when they kiss” Emily – age 8

“Love is what’s in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen.” Bobby – age 7 (Wow!)

“If you want to learn to love better, you should start with a friend who you hate,” Nikka – age 6 (we need a few million more Nikka’s on this planet)

“Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, then he wears it everyday.” Noelle – age 7

“Love is like a little old woman and a little old man who are still friends even after they know each other so well.” Tommy – age 6

“During my piano recital, I was on a stage and I was scared. I looked at all the people watching me and saw my daddy waving and smiling. He was the only one doing that. I wasn’t scared anymore.” Cindy – age 8

“My mommy loves me more than anybody You don’t see anyone else kissing me to sleep at night.” Clare – age 6

“Love is when Mommy gives Daddy the best piece of chicken.” Elaine-age 5

“Love is when Mommy sees Daddy smelly and sweaty and still says he is handsomer than Robert Redford.” Chris – age 7

“Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him alone all day.” Mary Ann – age 4

“I know my older sister loves me because she gives me all her old clothes and has to go out and buy new ones.” Lauren – age 6

“When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars come out of you.” (what an image) Karen – age 7

“Love is when Mommy sees Daddy on the toilet and she doesn’t think it’s gross.” Mark – age 6

“You really shouldn’t say ‘I love you’ unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget.” Jessica – age 8

And the final one — Author and lecturer Leo Buscaglia once talked about a contest he was asked to judge. The purpose of the contest was to find the most caring child. The winner was a four year old child whose next door neighbour was an elderly gentleman who had recently lost his wife. Upon seeing the man cry, the little boy went into the old gentleman’s yard, climbed onto his lap, and just sat there. When his Mother asked what he had said to the neighbor, the little boy said, “Nothing, I just helped him cry””

Sometimes, little kids have the most unbelievable perceptions of reality. We should all be so lucky.

-Mrs. That One

How to Come Up With Stuff to Write About When You’re Sick?

This is the 12th day (and counting) that I have been struggling with the flu, or what we think it’s the flu. This is really a problem when you’re trying to blog daily. I mean, think about it- how to be creative when you have a killing headache to deal with? And since I’ve noticed I’m not the only one trying to write, I figured it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to share some tips with my fellow bloggers.

Tip 1 – Do not blog about being sick.

Although this should be pretty obvious, people seem to do it all the time. Okay, we get it, you’re sick, we want you to feel better… what’s next?

Tip 2 – Freewrite

Most people think that people don’t want to read what they have to say if it isn’t extraordinary. I strongly disagree. I think we all love stories- no matter what kind. So what happened today? What made you happy? What made you laugh? You’d be surprised how easy a story may flow after you start typing stuff.

Tip 3 – You could ask your wife

And if you’re as lucky as me, she may say something like “I don’t know, write about a movie.”

If nothing comes up still…

Tip 4 – It’s a good thing we have neighbors

Although not listed on my 2011 goals, one of the things I wanted to do for the year (and years to come) was to read other blogs consistently. I wanted to do so because I love people and the stories everyone has to offer. And I have found that sometimes after I read someone else’s blog, I end up with something good to write about in my own blog.

Tip 4 – If all else fails…

Okay, then you may blog about being sick.

-Mrs. This One

NFL Playoffs: House Divided

It should not come as a surprise to most of you that today Green Bay will be facing Chicago, and soon after, Pittsburgh will play New York (Jets). I’ve been a Steelers fan since as long as I can remember. It makes little sense really, considering the fact that I’m not from Pittsburgh and I’ve never been to a Steelers game physically. But coming from a state with no NFL teams (AL), you end up choosing a team whether you have geographical ties to it or not.

Most of my friends were either Falcons or Saints fans. I didn’t like either team when I was little. But I saw a Steelers game on TV once and it was love at first sight right after that. I couldn’t help myself. The colors, the plays, the moves… everything about the Steelers seemed magical to me. And it probably helped that my brother was already a well-established Steelers fan (although I never asked him how he ended up that way). The point is that I have always been a hardcore Steelers fan. And although I haven’t been present at Heinz Field yet, I know one day I will.

It is obvious that today is a big day for me then. I am counting the minutes until I get to watch the game. It helps that we’re playing the team where Mark Sanchez is at because I want the Steelers to crush him. Seven times over. He is a former Trojan- in case you were wondering. And I am a proud Bruin.

But the following is my dilemma. My father-in-law is actually from Green Bay so he’s a Packer and has always been. There is a chance that the Steelers and the Packers end up playing in the Super Bowl against each other. My wife, being his daughter, told me today that she has to root for the Packers because it’s in her DNA. “But you don’t even care about football!” I said. She simply grinned and I could tell she was enjoying every bit of this. So I guess this household is divided for now. But I’m not worried because I know the Steelers got this one.

-Mrs. This One

Wait, Why do you Have a Hickey?

We were heading to lunch. I tried to cozy myself up in the passenger seat trying not to think of how uncomfortable I felt for not taking a shower after my tennis workout. The traffic wasn’t bad which was a rare happening for Wilshire Blvd. I was looking forward to having Dim Sum for lunch- it had been a while since the last time we had it. I glanced over at the driver, my wife- and I noticed something unusual a little below her right ear. I could swear it looked like a hickey and I called her on it.

She looked at me sheepishly and asked me if I really thought that was possible. The thing is that at first the hickey didn’t bother me. I’m not allowed to give her hickeys and the thought of someone else being allowed to do so just made my blood boil. But seconds later it finally hit me what a hickey actually meant. If it wasn’t from me, then…

I thought then about her question, if I really thought she could do that to me. I was cheated on in every relationship I had before this one and that makes anyone suspicious of anything. But I’ve also never been truly loved before. So could it be possible? I wasn’t sure. But if she said it couldn’t be then I believed her.

I sank back into my seat quietly trying not to think of the act of being cheated on. I tried to push away the thought as I felt her hand slip into my hand. I felt silly then for even thinking it be possible. I glanced back at her and I noticed that the so-called hickey had vanished. “It must have been a scratch,” she said. And I wondered if maybe I should wear my glasses more often.

-Mrs. This One

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