Four Days And Counting: If The Shirt Fits...And Other Musings

I miss doing my lil weekend updates... ever since I started posting every day I've forgotten that one of the things I like best about blogging for you guys was saving up all the juicy details from Friday-Sunday for the Monday morning post. So here goes...

Hellooooooo, RUM!
It was raining like the dickens on Friday but you know what? NOTHING was coming in between me n my liquor, know what I'm saying? My week was HORRENDOUS, topped off of course by my Papi's loss AND not being able to go to Cali for my birthday *sniffle*

So Irene and I went out on a much overdue "reunion" of sorts, and we fell back into step- shootin the shit, drinking, snacking (although not as much as before... she went and got all healthy on me...hmph!)- as if the tension from this winter was just a bad dream. I'll go with that. It was a bad dream; we fucked up, it's passed, we pick up where we left off and will make sure to not let it happen again.

So did I mention there was RUM involved?? OH YEAH... sweet nectar of the gods... with pineapple juice... the memory of its intoxicating goodness is still fresh in my mind... I feel like I haven't had a drink in forever as opposed to just a month ago! But I haven't had RUM in a hot ghetto minute, so yeah, it was a reunion for me and it, too.

And Irene spilled her drink, so yeah... just like old times...

Found My Groove, But Not The One You Think
I was really, madly, truly going to get shit done Saturday morning- I'd signed up to help clean up Brooklyn Bridge Park, and I was going to get some writing out of the way, etc... but you know what? Season Three of Soul Food was just sitting there by the computer, taunting me, calling my name, reminding me that the first episode of the season features a shower scene with BORIS KODJOE. So guess what I did all morning?

After that I watched The Squid and the Whale- a terrible, terrible film and I'll NEVER EVER get my two hours back, dammit, but hell if I was gonna get off the couch and shut it off- I was too comfy for all that, found the groove in the couch that fit my lazy ass perfectly... I was home, yo- no kids or nothing! Just me, the sofa, a movie, big ass water bottle by my side and a bowl full of oatmeal Teddy Grahams and peanut butter. I live the good life.

Sancocho For The Soul
Finally, though, I showered and dressed because SOON SOON SOON it was SANCOCHO TIME at my aunt's. And lookie here:



I ate two hot, heaping bowls of it AND brought half of it home in the biggest Tupperware known to man:



I hung with her for a while, caught up, watched a Flavor of Love season 1 marathon (Hoopz was too cute for him... what the hell?!) and confessed about my tattoos. "Oh no, Rocky! Why would you do that to yourself??" Sorry, Titi; I like body art... what can I say?

To Party Or Not To Party
The Haitian sends me a text, which I responded to, but then nothing jumped off. I don't know why I keep messin' with that fool, but I do. I'm only human, dammit! But all was forgiven, though, when I got this video from him:

Mexican 300

OMG I've never laughed so hard!! Dique "tonight we dine in San Diego"

HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!!!!!

And on the same site, I saw THIS:

Slutz Home Pregnancy Test

tears...down...face...can't...stop...laughing...must...breathe...

THEN I was promised my birthday gift from a certain someone who does not like to be talked about on this here blog, but you know what? I'm gonna talk about you... because you never called me back and now I'm salty. So there! And the longer I have to wait, the more inclined I will be to post "transcripts" of our conversations. You've been warned. You've known me for a long time, buddy... you know I'll do it...

So instead I was gonna go out and look for trouble like I used to but I was filled up to my esophagus with sancocho and decided, you know what? Sit your ass down and chill. So I did. Logged on to Netflix and started to watch The Orphanage... but I had to shut it off... HELL NO I'm not watching a flick that scary while the lights are out and I'm by myself... did I mention that Greenwood Cemetery is like RIGHT AROUND THE FREAKIN CORNER?? Yeah, I shut that shit off and went to sleep... under the covers... times like that is when I need a man in the house, you know, to throw at the monsters while I get a head start out of the house...

If The Shirt Fits
So a few days ago Q posted about her body issues, which is actually her family's body issues, which as a fellow Latina I can totally relate to. And on Friday, while talking to Irene I heard the most awful words come out my mouth: "If I could just go down one dress size I'll be good." WTF? Someone should have slapped me right then and there...

Irene calls me Sunday to say she's trying on her old clothes (she's recently lost a lot of weight so naturally, right? I do that shit, too) and I decide to go into my closet o' spring/summer clothes and see what damage I've done to my waistline over the winter.

And everything fit. Perfectly. Better, even. Well not that skirt from Olivia's baptism, but that shit never fit me from jump... I was kidding myself with that there skirt. In fact Mari- you can have it if you want.

So why am I all like, I need to drop one dress size?? Fuck that shit! I look damn good, okay, and if you don't think so then don't fucking look at me. And by "you" I mean The Voices that like to call me gorda n shit- fuck y'all!

I still want to go to Bally's on the regular, because it's no fun to get winded climbing the stairs or chasing N or dancing, but I'm not keeping track. And I threw out my scale, that's it, it is NOT welcomed in my home anymore. I don't want my girls weighing themselves like crazy anorexic bitches. It's OVER!

Because as long as my "Spicy Latina" t-shirt n seersucker shorts still fit me well, I have no worries at all... now, where are my Teddy Grahams??

Fuck You, Capital One
I done told you- you will get your money, okay? Can you STOP SWEATIN ME?? I don't want to have to say it again. And I don't take too kindly to threats- I'm from Bed-Stuy, BITCHEZ, I WILL cut you...

Don't make me angry. You wouldn't want to see me when I'm angry...

*smooches...still kinda scared 'cause I just watched the rest of The Orphanage*
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thanks Q, for posting that post, btw, because sometimes we try and keep up with bodies that are not like ours and we need to just STOP. It kept resonating in my head as I tried on my clothes and realized I was being too too hard on myself, too.

besos, chica!