Confessions of a Pimperella: Addicted to Love

Facebook is a wondrous tool. I have reconnected with old friends. I keep in touch with family abroad. I also get all the latest chisme about my friends before they even have a chance to share it with me. Case in point, I found out my friend Watts was pregnant through some subtle but very suggestive wall postings. I mean, the element of surprise was gone but I knew what to expect and I am naturally nosey.

Recently I logged-in, cruised through my notifications, and scanned the homepage to see what was going on in my friend’s lives—when I see it.

MP went from being "single" to "in a relationship." · Comment · Like / Unlike

Usually Facebook posts don’t confuse and slow me me down but this one got me stuck on stupid.
“Errrr. He is now in a relationship? But He and C-Dawg are dating. So if she is dating him and he is in a relationship then… she does have a whole album dedicated to ‘them’. But she was excited about being single and doing hoodrat stuff… Was MP dating someone else?…”

This second grade reasoning game went on for a good eight minutes when I finally came to terms that C-Dawg was no longer single. Now, if you are a follower you will recall this blog entry about two months ago. I was excited that my friend was finally single with me. I was stoked that we could tag-team flirt and I was worried that mankind would never be the same. Well that is all over. Gone. Single-hoodrat-shinnanigans are done! I am crushed. I text C-Dawg to get it straight from her

Inez: You and MP?...Together?

C-Dawg: Who is this? My contacts got erased.

Inez: Shabangboo (My nickname)
Aaaaaand you and MP?

C-Dawg: Yes we r!

Inez: OMG!!! What! No mames! Off the market again?!?! Sigh. We’ll always have Vegas.

C-Dawg: I can’t deny love…

Inez: Love!?!?! Woooooow. Aww. That is awesome.

C-Dawg: I think I am a love addict…u can write a blog about it.

Inez: Vale.

I take this as a legally binding license to creative freedom. Here is goes…

C-Dawg and MP have know each other for a very long time (I believe since High School, maybe longer) and have a solid foundation as friends and mutual horn dogs. I have heard that the best lovers are friends, and from what C-Dawg has told me about MP’s skills, the saying rings true. The boy is hung and lays pipe. So why am I so hesitant about this?

“I think I am a love addict…”

Now I am no Dr. Drew but I have seen enough Intervention to know that too much of anything is never good. My partner in crime addicted to love? I am worried about this trend of serial monogamy leading to more broken hearts and less crazy Vegas weekends. I just can’t understand it. My last relationship was two years long and I have been avoiding commitment like the swine flu. She gets out of a six year relationship and jumps right back on the saddle. Is she crazy?

Now, as a self professed relationship risk assessor (direct cause of my single hood), I look at their situation and conclude that they are are in fact fucking crazy. Main points that should be mentioned:

1. They have a tight circle of friends. And I mean TIGHT. They are the Mexican American equivalent of the 90210 cast (for my younger followers; think Gossip Girl…or err 90210). If they were to end up not working out there would be a subsequent butterfly effect hat would cause all kinds of drama in their group. Who would get who in the divorce? Whose side will people take? Manolo might even finally forget he is gay and finally succumb to my sexual advances. Hmm this might work out.

2. MP is still technically married. Stereotypical thoughts of what kind of men cheat on their wives aside, the divorce processes is intense and well cause stress in their relationship. Lucky there are no children involved. Note**MP has a sincerity about him that gives me confidence he’ll do right by C-Dawg. God help him if he doesn’t. Remember I am from Chula Vista, Puto.

3. Last, MP lives in San Diego. C-Dawg lives in Long Beach. Long distance. Nuff said.
These three pressing issues consume my thoughts (hyperbole) when I am invited by C-dawg to go to Oktoberfest in OB. Everyone had flaked on them and she wanted to know if I was still down to hang. I was, but then realized I’d be the third wheel. A small twinge of anxiety hits me. Will I be able to bite my tongue about my concerns if I have a little liquor in me and I am alone with them? I am an asshole after all.

All is well as we hang out. Luckily, MP has a great sense of humor and most of my ridiculousness rolls off his back. Then we end up at a restaurant with the rest of the homies and this conversation starts.

C-Dawg: Basically people, me and MP have been dating since December!

Inez: Wait! So that makes both of you cheating son-of-a-bitches! You were with BK until last week of July and YOU (pointing at MP) didn’t leave your wife until two weeks later!

C-Dawg’s face; a mixture of half-shame and a little “If he is your man then he wasn’t last night” swagger. I feel like a jerk for opening my big trap; we all thought it, I just said it. I quickly back track and say, “Well, I love that your boyfriend lives in San Diego. I get to see you more often.”
C-Dawg: He is trying to get me to move down here.

Instantly, I am a fan. Truth be told, of all my friends, C-Dawg is the one I worry about the least when it comes to her choices in men. She is a strong chick that isn’t afraid to state what she wants. If she has decided to be in couple hood already after only being single for a couple months then he must be pretty special. Besides, perhaps someday I'll join her…

The Pimperella Gets Recipe for Disaster

On my recent trip to Tucson AZ, with my mom and sister, we stayed with an old family friend named May. Now May is someone you would say is very unconventional. She has six dogs (two that are blind). I am not exaggerating when I say she has a massive hole in her living room floor. She works with the Zapatista Indians, roasting, grinding, and distributing their coffee, for free? I am all about helping your fellow man but you need to get paid too. Dance with capitalism every once in a while, you know?

Saturday morning we made breakfast and sat around for some girl talk. In the living room are my mother (‘Ama), May, and her friend Rita. I was enjoying the spirited conversation amongst my eccentric friends but nothing could prepare me for the knowledge I was about to receive.

Rita: You know what is really good for the skin? Babies’ pee. Just grab the diaper and blot it on your face. (Mimes blotting face)

‘Ama: You know my mom use to tell me that! When I use to change Inez’s diapers I would think about it but the thought of it me daba asco.

Rita: No it works! (Notices my disgusted look and addresses me) Gives you something to look forward to when you have children.

Me: Whoa. That is a huge assumption! Who says I'm having kids?

‘Ama: Mija, when you’re ready. Not anytime soon.

Me: Right. (Pretend to be talking to a small child) You may have ruined all my fun with a life-time commitment* but my skin has never looked so radiant. I’ll pass on peepee face.

-The room laughs-

‘Ama: You know what my mom also use to say? That the first period blood was good too. She wanted to ask my niece Michelle but I told her not too. I forgot to ask Inez and my other daughter. They never want to tell you when they get their first period.

May: Do you know what my mother told me. (Addressing me) This is how you make a man yours forever. You get a little of your period blood and put it in his food. He eats it and your scent will always be on him. He’ll crave and want no body else.

Me: Wait a minute! Are you serious!

May: Yeah, homegirl. He’ll be your sex slave.

Me: May, I don’t know about you, but it has been my experience that men don’t need much motivation to have sex.

May: No, not just sex. They will be yours, and only yours. They’ll never want anybody else. Now, you have to be careful. You can’t do this to any looser. You don’t want anybody to be obsessed with you.

Me: No of course not because that would be ridiculous.

May: Yeah just put it in his spaghetti sauce and he’ll never tell the difference.

Eeew. What would Sam the Cooking Guy say?

This horrifies and scares me at the same time, yet I felt the need to tell my friends. I pick up my phone and text my girls. The following are their responses:

C-dawg: That’s fucking CLASSIC

Dalo’s response was way more her style:

Dalo: WTF? Period blood? YIKES!!! Omg that just set up my day!!! Ask her next time “What if you don’t get periods anymore?

Me: Anymore?!?!

Dalo: I know [women] who don’t get their periods.

Me: Then they’ll be alone forever.

Dalo: Was she really serious or joking?

Me: Serious. IDK if it works. I’ll let you know.

Dalo: OMG! No Inez! Who would be your lucky contestant?

Me: I’ll let you know.

Anyone free this Friday? Any takers? No?