…of old-school Latin pop music from P’s palette. First it was my guilty pleasure, Gloria Trevi (see previous post), and now I bring to you a pop, power-ballad by Amanda Miguel who sings like a howling cat (if cats could howl).

“El Me Mintio/He Lied to Me”. This, along with Trevi’s “Dr. Psiquiatra” will be my unofficial “Borderline Girl Song(s)” for the week. hahah! Don’t you just love that 80s big hair!?

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So, I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve been texting back and forth with this fella that’s in his late thirties to early forties–probably forty-two at most. I met him a few years back through my BPD-Friend-I-Keep-At-A-Close-Distance. I’m going to call her Ryden since we both love the pop surrealist painter Mark Ryden.

Anway, I met him because of her and he became a mutual friend. He is clearly into me but I always ignored and doubted the fact, especially since he was married. He divorced his wife not long ago though. And about two, maybe three weeks ago the texts started rolling in. They eventually became sexual. He’s a nice fella, I think. I’m always doubting people though. He’s a drummer too. He’s shy and I kind of like that. I also like that he speaks Spanish like I do. I guess what I mean is I like that we’re both immigrants, only he came here way before I did. He has a good taste in music, but that means nothing really. There are a lot of things I like about him, I suppose.

Then I start to think I got ahead of myself. You’re being impulsive P! Getting with this dude may open a can of worms!

I mean, I don’t think I would normally go for him, though I’m not sure. He knew how to get to me–through humor. He turned me on by being funny about it! Dammit, I can’t help that I like clowns (not the scary ones). There’s just one thing: He’s a heavy drinker. I definitely don’t like that.

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I know I’m vulnerable right now. I also know that I don’t ever want to be involved with an alcoholic again, even if it’s just a non-committed thing. (God, I hate saying that.) He’s heavy too, overweight. I don’t mind much about a fella’s weight or how a fella looks, but it does count for something–mainly lifestyle–and besides, I do have my limits or standards I suppose… and it’s best the guy not be heavy because I’m… I’m… I’m tiny! It’s just seems a bit weird when…you know…but then again, I’m weird. And… I mean, it’s not like I’m planning to date this person. I’m not.

But…

The texting has gotten more consistent and intense. I’m waking up to texts like “morning gorgeous” or “morning love” or “how are you love?” or “q haces amor? como estas?” and I kinda like it but I hate that I like it. I prefer older men anyway, but I don’t care to be doted on or do I? Not now. No. No. I’m afraid I’ll grow tired of the attention or I’ll get fearful of attachment and run–or roll since I can’t run.

I’d rather be the asshole in any relationship-type situation because I often think I’m no good. Wait, why am I even starting to call this a relationship-type situation?

I just don’t know what I’m doing.

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Yesterday, I met my brother’s girlfriend’s family. We watched fireworks for Fourth Of July. I couldn’t help but to think of Monkey Man L and that year we watched fireworks with A.F. in Victoria. It hit me hard when I got dropped off back at home. He’s really no longer here is he?

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And I haven’t seen the nerdy mechanical engineer, aka bearded boy at the gym since that Saturday. I haven’t begun therapy either after lasts weeks ordeal with the MetroLift. This week it was my fault though, I thought she’d said Wednesday at 2:30 then I realized Wednesday was a holiday. I slept most of the day today avoiding everything, so I didn’t call the office to see what the date really was or check up on the mix-up. Yesterday,  my dad was taking me to my appointment (which I realized I didn’t have anyway) and started nagging when I said I’d left the phone. We had just pulled out of the driveway when I said that and he went on about how, “You should plan things!” and “You SHOULD be organized!”

I’d planned yesterday’s events since last week! I tried, but it didn’t work out and I didn’t triple check. Sorry. At the risk of sounding like an ungrateful child–I tried but it got to me–I just told him not to take me anywhere and to just let me get off the car because I wasn’t going to have it that day.

I long for independence.

Longing is a good sign of wanting to live eh? Yeah, it sort of is.

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I’ve been meditating out of the water as well as in it. That has been my prayer.

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My jaw pain from the metal plate that’s sticking out–oh right, I haven’t told that story yet–has been hurting again. I keep feeling like grabbing a chainsaw and hacking my entire jaw out.

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Mansie came by on Monday so we could write a proposal and I could get that job back as a contracted worker, but…

I don’t know what I’m doing.

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I was invited to join a game of tag by Sailor and Angel. I thought I’d answer Angel’s questions.

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1) What is the one insect you absolutely can’t stand?

Cockroaches! I can’t stand roaches. I’m cockroach-a-phobic. I’ll tell you, one night when I was a kid, maybe nine or so, I felt something tickling my cheek. When I woke up, I saw two antennas wiggling over my eye. There was a HUGE roach on my face! I slapped that sucker off of me–a survival instinct I didn’t know I possessed. The ugly fucker flung out and started flying! Ugggh. To this day, I flinch if I feel something on my cheek or neck.

2) Which fictional world(s) do you wish were real?

I’m tempted to say “Middle Earth” from The Lord of the Rings, but I’m gonna go with one from a book I started reading a little over a year ago and had to put down when the stress of graduation loomed. It’s a planet called Winter and the most fascinating thing about it is that the humanoids living in it can choose and change their gender, so gender isn’t a big issue there. It’s from The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. Leguin. It’s a very psychological sci-fi that Monkey Man L had recommended I read.

3) Who is your favorite President/Prime Minister/Monarch/Whoever Has Been in Charge of Your Country in history?

I don’t have one. I’m a bit of a cynic and a critic and a rebel. I do have a thing for FDR though. Besides, he battled polio and knows what it’s like being in a wheelchair. I also have a thing for Lincoln. And I like Jimmy Carter. I like that he didn’t run again to play the games.

4) If you were forced to be on a reality show, which one would you go on, and why?

I was actually asked to be on one in an email from YouTube, although I doubt its legitimacy. It was for a pilot on CBS about disabled “midgets,” no lie. haha. I obviously changed the wording, but that was the sum of the email. I didn’t reply, though for a second, I thought of asking more questions. Oh yeah, ummm, back when I was younger and actually watched MTV, I wanted to be on that show Road Rules, you know the one that came on after The Real World.

5) What is the one feature that your dream house must possess?

An Olympic-size pool! (or just any pool) And I’d definitely have to have an awesome office with lots of techie stuff for film editing and a theater room for film viewing. I think I want to live in a very urban area though. And I find I’m modest when it comes to certain things so I don’t dream of anything big really.

6) What is your guilty musical pleasure?

Gloria Trevi. She’s a former Mexican pop-rock icon from the late 1980s and early 1990s. Her music was controversial and politically charged. She had a four-year stint in prison after her ex-husband and music producer/manager was arrested on charges of currupting minors (mainly the molestation of several young girls). I don’t know what Trevi was formally charged with but her charges were dropped for lack of evidence in involvement. There’s some Spanish gossipy news National Enquirer-style for ya.

Anyway, this is a song from her early glory days. It’s about a wild, uncontrollable girl that is sent to see psychiatrist. In the song she basically tells the psychiatrist to fuck off: “I’m not crazy, I’m not crazy, I’m not crazy. I’m just desperate! Don’t tell me anymore idiotic lies; I just wanna live my own life… I won’t listen… And I won’t pay your bill… And quit looking! Quit looking! Quit looking at my legs! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! I’m not crazy, I’m just desperate” and so on.

I mean it’s got synths!

Without further adieu, here’s the amazing Gloria Trevi performing “Dr. Psiquiatra”. Yes, my guilty musical pleasure (you got it out of me Angel!) and I’m out in the open about it now ok. OK!? I love this song… no, I love a lot of Trevi’s songs, and I’m no longer ashamed to admit it dammit!

I also find it hilarious that the crowd is so disparate!

7) What do you think is the most disgusting food?

Pork skins and pork intestines (we make them with rice in Colombia). After I became a vegetarian, I couldn’t stand the thought of eating them. But I think I’d rather eat that than roaches!

8) Do you smile with or without showing your teeth?

You can’t see my teeth when I smile, especially not after the second Bell’s Palsy hit. 😦

I don’t like to smile in photographs anymore. Ok. Ok. Maybe a faint smile. 😉

9) Do you believe that there are aliens in the universe?

If I remember correctly from class, there are roughly 100 billion stars in our galaxy. If one-third of them are Sun-like, and 1/100th of those house inhabitable planets, I don’t see why not. I mean that’s just in OUR galaxy. If we account for the rest, which is infinite, then yes, I definitely think that, if not within our own galaxy, then surely some other galaxy contains life–hell maybe even non-carbon based life!

10) Choose your own adventure books–yay or nay?

Yay!

(Guess what gave me my wonderful idea.)

11) What is the funniest thing that has happened to you today?

Nothing interesting has happened today, but yesterday morning I went swimming at the gym and something very scary and somewhat funny happened with my tampon. Also, I met my brother’s girlfriend’s family. We were out in the backyard and they’d gone swimming but I didn’t know so I didn’t have a bathing suite on me. I just sate soaking my feet and got tore up by mosquitoes. I told my brother and he asked for bug spray. Well, my brother decided to spray down his girlfriend with bug spray (though I was the only one getting bit). The entire cloud of that venomous gas wafted my way and nearly killed me since I had nowhere to run and my wheelchair was out of reach. True story.

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As in the previous set, I’m going to have to opt out of tagging anyone (dealing with too much anxiety and jaw pain). But I am going to ask anyone who wants to answer a question:

Do you think it’s too late to contact that reporter lady from the Houston Chronicle? (See addendum of previous post)

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