When my family and I owned our restaurant, we had a staff that became a beautiful extended family.
Lunchtime. Dad at the stove, me in "the front of the house" and Wilson at the sink.
I need to state emphatically........I love Central American people. Guatemalans in particular. They are a kind, peace loving, race. Hard working, honest, loyal and true.
Which is why I can't for the life of me understand why so many Guatemalan dishwasher's parents seemed to name the males after American presidents. OBSCURE American presidents.
We had Wilson, Nixon (not obscure, but really weird, no?), Harrison, and Cleveland. Sixteen years of business, and I learned more about American leaders, by the guys we had at the sink, than I ever did in school. Cleveland. REALLY? I thought he was a baseball player.
And mind you, these were mountain people. No televisions. No public libraries. Just tiny poor villages with healers that literally rubbed dirt on wounds when someone took a tumble. Wilson, by the way, was the hero of his "willage" because he killed the giant snake that ate two babies in the night. Seriously.
The guys from Guatemala City, who were better educated, actually worked the line with Mom, Dad and my Sissy. They read, they learned English, they tried new recipes. They were Sergio, Ceasar, Roberto, Jorge.
But the presidents? They washed dishes like lathered up tornadoes.
So I lay here asking myself. Is there some connection, some true, gleaming answer, in this vast sprawling universe, regarding the American President named Guatemalan mountain man, excellent, committed, dishwasher moniker, trend? I'm ready to accept any theories.
See this is why I suck at this blogging shit. What in God's name does the above post add to the world as we know it. Fuck if I know.
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Sick & Weepy J.D. Story
My boyfriend in college and I got a black Lab puppy, and we grew older together. The dog and me, not the guy. He disappeared to Japan of all places.
I'm home, sick with pneumonia and I'm feeling sorry for myself, so if it bums anyone, I'm sorry in advance.
He loved chocolate and beer even more! My kinda' guy. I haven't gotten another dog since. He died in my arms. It was so weird. For the last year of his life, his back legs didn't work at all. Degenerative Spinal Myopathy. So I carried him around or boosted him up holding his legs like a wheel barrel. Then, I depleted any savings I had, bought him one of those custom built canine carts. He was a dog on wheels! I use to decorate the thing for the holidays with ornaments. He wasn't embarrassed enough, you see. At first when I finally got the building, and measurement specifications right, I attached him......and he just STOOD there!! Swear, he would not move an inch. A full hour went by. I was freaking 'cause I just spent 1700.00 to get this thing built and shipped, and all I succeeded to create was a very furry statue. Wouldn't budge. Anywhoooo, I couldn't take it so I went to the kitchen and opened a beer, and lo and behold, I heard weird squeaking, like Norman Bates' Mom's wheel chair. Turn around, and there was my boy. Walked through 3 rooms for a sip o' the good stuff! He lived another year and a half after that.
Then one morning, I just knew. He put his head on my chest and gave a big sigh. And I KNEW! I called my Sis in a panic to get over my house. She had to leave work, so I knew it would be like half an hour before she got there. So I propped him up on my lap, and looked him in the eye and said, "it's okay Chowie (crazy nickname for him) you can go now, I'll be sad, but don't worry you have been the best son a girl could have, and me and Dad, and anyone that knew you loved you. For all I know, your Dad is dead and not in Japan too, and you can hang with him up there! (moment of levity, I apologize, but it's true).
My Sister arrived and came running up the stairs and I swear on my nephew, he raised his head, and let out a big sigh of relief, and looked me in the eye, and then he was gone. I literally felt him let go. He waited. He waited so I wouldn't be alone. And now i'm crying again like a big dope because it was so goddamn beautiful, and miraculous, and devastating all at once.
And I held him and smelled him, and my Dad rushed over, and picked him up to take him to the vet to be cremated. And I have a tin of his ashes. I sprinkled some into the water at the beach near my house, then took a road trip to Oneonta and sprinkled some at Gilbert lake. And I still have a little more. About a year layer I got the tattoo of his name with a paw print on my foot. I have others, I mean jeez, tattoos and private piercings are a staple of my existence.
I was in bed for 3 weeks. And when some idiot says "over a dog?" I want to pop out their eyeballs and stomp on them, because what do they know? Yeah dude, have more kids and ruin the planet even more - to fulfill your ego or because you think it's the natural progression of marriage. Ewwwwwww yuck.
So that is the story, and I've probably ruined your day, but don't be too angry, because he was so loved until the end.
And his feet smelled like Fritos corn chips, and that makes me smile, even now.
I'm home, sick with pneumonia and I'm feeling sorry for myself, so if it bums anyone, I'm sorry in advance.
He loved chocolate and beer even more! My kinda' guy. I haven't gotten another dog since. He died in my arms. It was so weird. For the last year of his life, his back legs didn't work at all. Degenerative Spinal Myopathy. So I carried him around or boosted him up holding his legs like a wheel barrel. Then, I depleted any savings I had, bought him one of those custom built canine carts. He was a dog on wheels! I use to decorate the thing for the holidays with ornaments. He wasn't embarrassed enough, you see. At first when I finally got the building, and measurement specifications right, I attached him......and he just STOOD there!! Swear, he would not move an inch. A full hour went by. I was freaking 'cause I just spent 1700.00 to get this thing built and shipped, and all I succeeded to create was a very furry statue. Wouldn't budge. Anywhoooo, I couldn't take it so I went to the kitchen and opened a beer, and lo and behold, I heard weird squeaking, like Norman Bates' Mom's wheel chair. Turn around, and there was my boy. Walked through 3 rooms for a sip o' the good stuff! He lived another year and a half after that.
Then one morning, I just knew. He put his head on my chest and gave a big sigh. And I KNEW! I called my Sis in a panic to get over my house. She had to leave work, so I knew it would be like half an hour before she got there. So I propped him up on my lap, and looked him in the eye and said, "it's okay Chowie (crazy nickname for him) you can go now, I'll be sad, but don't worry you have been the best son a girl could have, and me and Dad, and anyone that knew you loved you. For all I know, your Dad is dead and not in Japan too, and you can hang with him up there! (moment of levity, I apologize, but it's true).
My Sister arrived and came running up the stairs and I swear on my nephew, he raised his head, and let out a big sigh of relief, and looked me in the eye, and then he was gone. I literally felt him let go. He waited. He waited so I wouldn't be alone. And now i'm crying again like a big dope because it was so goddamn beautiful, and miraculous, and devastating all at once.
And I held him and smelled him, and my Dad rushed over, and picked him up to take him to the vet to be cremated. And I have a tin of his ashes. I sprinkled some into the water at the beach near my house, then took a road trip to Oneonta and sprinkled some at Gilbert lake. And I still have a little more. About a year layer I got the tattoo of his name with a paw print on my foot. I have others, I mean jeez, tattoos and private piercings are a staple of my existence.
I was in bed for 3 weeks. And when some idiot says "over a dog?" I want to pop out their eyeballs and stomp on them, because what do they know? Yeah dude, have more kids and ruin the planet even more - to fulfill your ego or because you think it's the natural progression of marriage. Ewwwwwww yuck.
So that is the story, and I've probably ruined your day, but don't be too angry, because he was so loved until the end.
And his feet smelled like Fritos corn chips, and that makes me smile, even now.
Monday, January 10, 2011
Mike Dick, Oh, I mean Vick
I am LOVING the fact that Mike Vick didn't make it to the big show. Yes, he has the right to play, blahblahblahblah.
I wanted him to suffer a painful and bloody Joe Theisman style compound fracture, and then as he was being carried off on a stretcher, the papoose like structure flips suddenly! Oh my! He just landed on his hard to look at compound fracture, that has to sting.
I have my long deceased Black Lab's name tattooed on my foot. When he died in my arms, I wanted to go with him.
Nuff said.
I wanted him to suffer a painful and bloody Joe Theisman style compound fracture, and then as he was being carried off on a stretcher, the papoose like structure flips suddenly! Oh my! He just landed on his hard to look at compound fracture, that has to sting.
I have my long deceased Black Lab's name tattooed on my foot. When he died in my arms, I wanted to go with him.
Nuff said.
But I Digress.....
This is a little something I added to my amazing brother-in-law's Facebook wall. He just posted how sad he felt, and attached that stupid fucking map Palin had on her website. Let me state right now, I don't give a fuck if you disagree with me. Don't start arguing and debating me. I am not in the mood. This whole thing has gotten me cranky. Okay, read on.
A fuckin'men. Kenny. And yes shit like that DOES incite people to commit violent crimes-crazy, demented people who just needed a little something more to get worked up about. Now, because some crazy bastard kills his parents after listening to Norwegian Black Metal, doesn't mean I want to ban Norwegian Black Metal (plus I like the scary voices, and double bass drum). But I digress.
Enough with the crosshairs, bullets and caribou shooting on both sides. Our elected officials better get their acts together and work with each other to facilitate some infinitesimal point they can all agree on. Because everyday some sticking point seems to be separating these out of touch fucks even more. Grow some balls and ovaries politicians. Stop worrying about which company or lobbyist group you sold your souls to, and think about the people for one second.
And BTW try going one month without health insurance because you're busting your ass to live and you can't afford it. I guaren-fuckin-tee you'll end up needing to go to the hospital for some fucked up injury or sickness. Try paying THAT bill. What, can't keep up with the thousands of dollars in payments? Don't worry, it will go into collections faster than you can say Jack Robinson. Then down the line when you need a new car for work, or a loan for school or a house, your credit will be shot and oooooooppppppsssss there goes your American dream mother fucker. And isn't the "American Dream" all these stupid politicians keep talking about.
Oh and one more thing, don't tell me what I can and can't do with my vagina and inside parts. I'm overwhelmingly certain if men, dudes, guys, boys, could get pregnant, there would be an abortion clinic on every corner. Drive thru abortion clinics. "I'll have a double, no onions with a large fry and a diet coke, oh an throw in a first trimester pregnancy termination with that." But I again digress.
My thoughts and prayers go out to all those injured, and killed in yesterday's massacre. As well as all the other people suffering from famine and disease as I write this. Now since it's double coupon day I'm going to go hoard 50 boxes of cereal I won't eat for a year, 'cause who can pass up that deal?
Welcome to America.
A fuckin'men. Kenny. And yes shit like that DOES incite people to commit violent crimes-crazy, demented people who just needed a little something more to get worked up about. Now, because some crazy bastard kills his parents after listening to Norwegian Black Metal, doesn't mean I want to ban Norwegian Black Metal (plus I like the scary voices, and double bass drum). But I digress.
Enough with the crosshairs, bullets and caribou shooting on both sides. Our elected officials better get their acts together and work with each other to facilitate some infinitesimal point they can all agree on. Because everyday some sticking point seems to be separating these out of touch fucks even more. Grow some balls and ovaries politicians. Stop worrying about which company or lobbyist group you sold your souls to, and think about the people for one second.
And BTW try going one month without health insurance because you're busting your ass to live and you can't afford it. I guaren-fuckin-tee you'll end up needing to go to the hospital for some fucked up injury or sickness. Try paying THAT bill. What, can't keep up with the thousands of dollars in payments? Don't worry, it will go into collections faster than you can say Jack Robinson. Then down the line when you need a new car for work, or a loan for school or a house, your credit will be shot and oooooooppppppsssss there goes your American dream mother fucker. And isn't the "American Dream" all these stupid politicians keep talking about.
Oh and one more thing, don't tell me what I can and can't do with my vagina and inside parts. I'm overwhelmingly certain if men, dudes, guys, boys, could get pregnant, there would be an abortion clinic on every corner. Drive thru abortion clinics. "I'll have a double, no onions with a large fry and a diet coke, oh an throw in a first trimester pregnancy termination with that." But I again digress.
My thoughts and prayers go out to all those injured, and killed in yesterday's massacre. As well as all the other people suffering from famine and disease as I write this. Now since it's double coupon day I'm going to go hoard 50 boxes of cereal I won't eat for a year, 'cause who can pass up that deal?
Welcome to America.
Friday, December 24, 2010
2011
I'm going to try & make this blog thing work for me. I gave up a long time ago, but Im willing to give it another shot. I have a lot on my mind & stuff races around my brain like those silly fuckers that trample each other getting into Walmart the day after Thanksgiving. Really a blast to watch, but not so good to live with, when it's your brain, and it won't stop. Get me?
So 2011 means a fresh start. A new beginning. A lot of new perspectives, and me writing about them.
I hope.......
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Julian
I love my nephew. I mean really, really love him. I know I just got done dissing kids, however, he isn't mine AND he's so fucking cute I want to die!! I don't have much patience for ugly kids. Ugly? I mean disrespectful, weird or boring kids, but ugly too. Julian is seven. He is so kind, sweet & funny. I love the fact he cares about how other people feel. I just worry about people hurting his feelings. I WILL beat up a child if he/she picks on Julian. I will board that yellow bus & ask which little fucker made my nephew cry! Then I'll pick the little bastard up by his/her neck and beat them senseless. I'll show you bully!!
Then I will go to jail & learn how to play harmonica & create a shiv in my cell. I truly will.
Once when Julian was four I was baby sitting him. I was at my Sissy's & they have a lot of remote controls. Julian wanted to watch a dvd, so I was having trouble figuring it out. I was a little impatient. I looked over at my beautiful Julian & said, "Sorry buddy, sometimes Yanti (his name for me) has trouble figuring this stuff out." He slid over and patted me on the leg, looked up at me with his wide khaki colored eyes & replied, "That's okay Yanti, sometimes I FRO UP."
He's so delicious he makes me want to FRO UP!!!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
