The Beginning: Gossip Mom

My mother, also known as Gossip Mom, is a funny crazy medicated woman. She has been providing me with material for decades now and i think its time we start a tribute to her on the blog. A Mom Blog so to say.

Here is an account i shared with http://www.whenparentstext.com/ that just was too good to keep to myself (and 49 people agree!). Enjoy.

The Case of the Ex

Why is it that all of my ex's seem to weasel their way back into my life? i can literally tell you about 5 different occasions when i have suddenly woken up next to a past loves/flings/make out whores. did they need a place to crash? sure. did they need to sleep naked? now thats a little blurry...

so after a recent run in with an "old friend" at Bay to Breakers, i have to start wondering if there is a warning sign on my forehead that reads, "take advantage of [my] open door policy." i cant completely blame the boys, they are just following their heart/dick down a bread crumb path back to a past conquest, and its up to me to let them in. unfortunately i have usually let them all in (point boys) but once in, i control the next steps (point me, mofo). since this started with my first bf when i was 18, i have controlled things for the most part and have only a select few regrets. i mean, not all ex's should be granted the right to hop back into my life, but a few have somehow forced their way. this may have included the gift of cupcakes, over kill on compliments, and bringing up the glory days of the past. tricky bastards. they are good.

but not, i have decided to change all that. ex's are out and strangers are in. well not Night Stalkers and that such, but you understand. its may 2011 for Christ's sake, and if the Mayans are correct, i have little than over a year to nab the perfect stranger before the world ends. so here goes. time to start a new with a new boo.

too bad im having dinner tonight with that "old friend" from the weekend and im sure he will insist on sleeping naked. (you know how uncomfortable jeans are in bed....)

Cinco de Blogo

Happy Cinco de Mayo everyone! Happy Cinco de Drinko, Drinko de Mayo, Drinko til Drunko, etc. What a great holiday this is... does anyone know the real reason behind this National Drinking holiday? No? didn't think so. Neither do i. I heard it has something to do with freedom or independence or tacos or shit like that, but im not that all interested in the real historical significance anyways. i just like the drinking. and why not? we white Americans always need a new excuse to go out and drink. why else is there St. Patty's day? or Mardi Gras? or Easter Funday Sunday? don't even TRY to tell me they are there to commemorate something other than going to the bars and getting shitty with friends and family....

so knowing this, i have come up with a new holiday. a holiday that truly shows the appreciation for the people in our lives we hold close. those people who lend an ear when we need to vent, always let us stay late, pick us up when we are down (literally), and provide us quarters when we need sweet music to soothe our souls. they are our bartenders and we love them as much as alcohol itself. so lets celebrate them on their very one day: Bartenders Appreciation in Rallying Fiestas Day, or as i like to call it BARF Day. this glorious day we shall come together in slurring off pitch harmony to thank our bar maidens and merry men. Cheers to your smooth pours! Prost to your endless glasses! Salute to your tight wife beaters and tribal tattoos! This one's for you!

so please come celebrate BARF Day with me. If you can't make the designated holiday (8/15), designate your own day/time of joyous celebration. Friday and Saturday nights are great times to BARF. so are morning brunches! BARF all you want, its up to you! just know that bartenders everywhere will appreciate it.

now get out there and start BARFing the day away... tequila anyone?

Warning Sign: Dating

There have been many a men in my life that I should have known were bad ideas. The signs were everywhere.

#1 Thigh Tattoo

Don’t date people with oddly placed tattoos; it’s a DIRECT warning sign that more stupid decisions will be made in the future.

I should have known things weren’t going to work out when I spotted it. The Thigh Tattoo. Mid thigh, self facing, center leg placed literature from the heart. It blinded me one night as I helped undress and throw his passed out, blacked out ass in bed. “Carpe Diem,” his thigh yelled to me. Not only did I want to ‘carpe’ his corpse out of my bed but I thought I would do the world a favor by etching it out with my cuticle scissors right then and there. But it was 2am, I was tired, and my sheets were new, so the Saw reenactment would have to wait. The next morning when he awoke from his stupor, I asked why he had decided to get a mid-thigh tattoo (of all places). He gave the same answer everyone with a tattoo says “I wanted it for ME cuz that’s who I am but also needed to be able to hide it for business reasons, you understand.” A real intellectual; DEEP. i should have known then. Sign missed. And because I over looked that funny little tattoo, I over looked the 6 week continuous weekend blackout that was our dating life. Yeah, putting him to bed each weekend was a BLAST, I know, but not worth it.

Update: Terracotta, as we shall call him, now lives with a good friend of mine and on the 6^th day of living together, my friend walked into their kitchen to find a bum that Terracotta had brought home the night before. Terracotta bummed a cigarette of the homeless fool then decided that it was cool to let him crash on the kitchen couch. Good choice. Bums always make good housewarming presents.

#2 Speaking Spanish

Don’t date people who speak tongues when they are drunk. Its not hot, its fucked up and a waste of time.

In college, a good friend of mine would get drunk like the rest of us and have a great time. Unlike the rest of us, he would do something so bizarre. He would talk Spanish. He would speak not just your normal I’m-white-but-know-how-to-order-a-burrito-con-everything-in-Spanish Spanish, but your I’m-white-and-can-speak-broken-Spanish-with-a-Catalan-accent-cuz-I-lived-there Spanish. Con muchos hand gestures. He was my Midnight Vaquero and I got a Spanish Serenade every time he drank. Fun at first, a turn on cuz I thought he was bilingual but after the repetitive cycle of his Saturday night events [10+ cervesas/nattie ice, opened short sleeve button down, and hairy chest rubbing when he talked] it got old. And it only came out when he was drunk, every 3^rd  sentence. Example: “that was so totally raddd what you did! That shot was fucking sick, bra. Mad sick. Mejjjjor tirrrrrro hermanoooo… yeahhhh”

Yeah not sick. Don’t date double talkers. The hot Spanish runs dry and you are left alone with a hairy man with tired hands no time for you…

#3 Man-Child

Don’t date 40-year-old singles. I don’t care how hottt they are, they are single for a reason.

Alejandro* was 38 when I met him. Now he looked 28, so I didn’t ask him his age when I met him at a wedding. And even when i found out I didn’t care. He was special. We had a real connection. That connection = sexual attraction. Things were fun, we lived near each other, he was available, and none of my friends knew him. In my mind it was perfect. Off and on for those lonely blacked out weekend nights, he was great. Consistent and satisfying. How could be so great and single? Why wasn’t he taken? Well one time when I wasn’t completely blacked out and hung over I got my answer. He is a Man-Child. The apartment looked like Katrina hit it. then a tsunami came through. Surf boards, clothes, cups, etc were everywhere. It was like a frat house and I was seeing the house dad David Wooderson (Dazed and Confused). Bad news bears. That clear-minded morning I ended it. no room more a life more messy than mine, thanks very much…. Fucking kid….

#4 Slap Attack

If he asks to slap you, LEAVE.

I once dated a guy who liked things rough. Pull your mind out of the gutter its not what you think. Well it kinda is. From conversations, to arguments, to drinking, to sexy time things were tough and rough and wild. During a particularly shy and calm make out, Striker as we will call him, wanted to take things to the next level. He looked me in the eye, cupped my face oh so gently, and politely asked, “Can I slap you?!.” Yeah should have seen the signs there and then.  I was scared and things ended that afternoon. OVER HIM. Until Striker crept back into my life 6 months later, we started things up again, and he asked for a bj on MY birthday. Yeah. OVER HIM again.

(And if you are still thinking about it, I said NO to his slap happy request. This isn’t a soap opera porno.)

#5 Night Stalker

Don’t go on a date with someone who pulls up to you on the street (no matter how sick his C-Class Mercedes is.)

A few weeks ago 2 guys pulled up next me on the street corner. I was waiting for a cab when they stopped the car and persisted to ask for my number. They could not help it; I looked great in my tall Michael Kors riding boots, Joes Skinny jeans, and BCBG crop top. There was nothing they could, I was too much to pass up J So with my Heidi Montag stripper curls (as my lovely sister calls them) blowing in the wind, I yelled them my number and hopped into a cab.

Two weeks later, I dragged my friend B in tow to square out the double date. We all met for drinks, vodka tonics for us and water for them. They didn’t drink, as we found out. LAME SAUCE. Getting over that fact as quickly as I drank down the vodka, we decided to grab dinner across the street. Here are some of the shitty/shocking/embarrassing events that took place after:

1.  The 2 men ordered for us. Welcome to the ‘50s ladies.

2.  “my guy” asked how I lost my virginity. If it was with 1 or 2 guys. Charming…

3.  “B's guy” asked if she had sex while studying in college in San Diego. Way to one-up your friend.

4.  “my guy” ate food from B's plate, with his fork, numerous times. YUMMY!

5.  … he also stuck his napkin up his nose to “Dig for Gold” as B put it

6.  … he also asked us what kind of porn we watched, cuz if we watched any Asian porn, we would have known that, I quote “Jap guys have straight pubes, no joke! They are straight over their small dicks!” WOW did we feel stupid for not knowing that!!!
7. ...he also just LOVED calling me Mop all night. i get so turned on when guy's call my hair a mop. as the great Paris Hilton would say, "thats hot"

So yeah. Worst date ever. Warning sign: don’t date night stalkers on the street.

Here goes (nothing) everything

Last night when my bestie C informed me that her and her bf started a blog, i thought, "hell, thats a great idea.  i could do that. i have ideas. i have stories. i am going to steal C's ideaaaaa!" and thus this blogtastic site was created.

As a past 8th grade traffic captain, you would have thought i would be used to reading signs. holding signs, throwing signs, raising signs... but no. those afternoons on the corner (not what you are thinking you dirty minded fools) blowing WHISTLES for kids to cross the street, i would have known signs like a nerd knows codes. but im blond and stupid. and blind i guess....

On this, i will dedicate most of my time to reliving the stories of my life, particularly stories of how i ignored important warning signs. the signs could have saved me from humiliation, heart break, and herniated disks. they could have kept me out of fights, drained bank accounts, and neon bicycle pants. had i read the signs early, i could be, well a lot better than i am now. fuckballs. oh well. now we can all live through those tragedies together. now buckle up. cuz im blind to signs.