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Saturday, February 26, 2005

The Pen is Mightier Than the Sword

Is it really? Because if you were to write something bad about me, I would just pull out the knife that I use to hold my hair up and cut you. That's right, I WOULD CUT YOU! Then what would you do? Run home and write about it? Oooooh...how intimidating.

Which leads me to phrase #2: "Her bark is bigger than her bite." Yup, I always try to intimidate people by talking like this but then they just laugh at me and tell other people that I'm funny and sarcastic. I guess that a little 5 foot tall Mexican girl, whose favorite color is pink, and who loves to laugh and dance in the halls at work, doesn't pull off the gangsta image all that well.

Which leads me to phrase #3: "No Way, Jose!" OK, as mentioned in the phrase #2 blurb, I'm Mexican. Well, I'm Mexican-American. My dad came to the U.S. when he was 18 (he was born and raised in Mexico City) and my mom swam across the river when she was 15. (She was born and raised in Lerdo - a small town in the state of Durango, Mexico. I bet you never heard of it.) My parents met at a low rider car show in East L.A. after they both arrived in the grand old U.S. of A. and the rest is history. So I get to be the lucky child...first generation born in America - Land of the Free, Land of the Rich, Land of theTaco Bell. But I digress. Being that my parents are not from this great country of ours, they were never privy to all of the great phrases and metaphors that most English speaking kids learn growing up in these here parts. So the first time my dad heard someone proclaim "No Way, Jose!" He had two things to say: 1.) "How deed jew know my name? (His name is Jose, in case you didn't catch on.) and 2.) "Jew are saying my name een-corrrrrectly. " You see, most Americans pronounce the name, Jose, as "Hose-A." As in a garden hose, and the letter "A." But it should actually be pronouced as "Hau-seh, " which does not rhyme with "no way." Anyway, my dad has now come to realize that this is just a phrase that Americans use to express disbelief and it has become one of his favorite American phrases to use... because it has his name in it. But when he says it, he insists on using the correct pronunciation of his name, so the phrase no longer rhymes and when people hear him say it, they usually respond with, "Huh? "

Which leads me to phrase #4: "You are sooooooo covered with Cheese!" So one day, after getting tired of hearing my dad explain to people that the phrase "No Way, Jose" is actually wrong because they are mispronouncing his name, I told him that he was cheesy. "What?" What do jew meeen that I am cheesy. I don't have any cheese on me. In fact, I have not eaten any cheese today, so how would I have any cheese on me?" {sigh} "Of course you don't have any cheese on you, daddy. It's just a saying..." So my dad learned a new phrase and was anxious to use it in a sentence. Except when he actually had the opportunity to say it, he couldn't remember exactly how the saying went. So one night, when he and I were watching Seinfeld on TV, my dad proclaimed, "He is soooooooo covered in cheese!!!"

Which leads me back to phrase #2: "Her bark is bigger than her bite. " I was talking to my dad on the phone today and was having trouble hearing him. Then I realized that it was because the loudest, most obnoxious dog was barking, and barking, and barking, and barking, and barking, and barking, and barking, and barking, and barking, and barking, and barking, and BARKING, AND BARKING, AND BARKING, AND BARKING, AND BARKING, AND BARKING, AND BARKING right outside my bedroom window. And no matter where I walked within my little house, I couldn't avoid the torturous bark. So my dad told me to just walk outside and talk to the dog. Explain to the dog that she was annoying me and to ask her to please stop her barking. "But, Daddy, what if the dog bites me?" "Don't worry, mija, I'm sure that her bark is bigger than her bite." "Daddy, you are so covered with cheese."

Which now leads me back to phrase #1: "The Pen is Mightier Than The Sword." Instead of walking outside and doing anything about the barking dog, I decided to just turn on some music to drown out the barking and write on my blog instead. OK, so maybe this pen is mightier than my theoretical hair knife would be, but what are you gonna do about it? Is your sword mightier than your pen?


posted by The Merry Widow at 1:53 PM | 8 comments

Friday, February 25, 2005

It's blo-og, it's blo-og, it's big, it's heavy it's wood...

Don't you miss Ren & Stimpy? I do.

Anywho, I'd like to take this opportunity to make a shout out to my favorite Blogger. Love her blog, love her baby, love her cake making abilities, love her.

So, Sarcastic Journalist, this little ditty goes out to you:

I once met a man, who worked at my work with me,
we talked about poop, and we talked about pee.
Then one day our boss, invited us to her house to eat
"And bring your significant others," she said, "so that we can all meet."
So there I arrived, with skin dark and tanned,
and in walked man I work with, Sarcastic Journalist in hand.
"Come meet my cute baby, and my beautiful wife.
These are my favorite people, these are my life."
So SJ and I bonded, we talked about life,
and thought to myself, "I really like this guy's wife."
And soon we were hangin' at all the work functions,
we even ate lunch at the local burrito junction.
So now I read her blog, which fills me with laughter,
which in turn inspired me to blog happily ever after.

The End.


posted by The Merry Widow at 12:33 AM | 2 comments

Thursday, February 24, 2005

Hello, God? Are you there? It's me, Merry Widow.

Here's a list of some guys that are in my life in one way or another:

1. Hot guy that I talk to daily: He's married and he hits on me everyday. If it wasn't for the fact that he's hot (yes, I'm shallow like that) I'd be totally disgusted with his antics. Needless to say, he's unavailable and I won't do anything more with him, other than shoot the shit.

2. Other guy that I talk to daily: He's married too! And he hits on me too!!! More aggressively than guy #1, I might add. But we've been friends for awhile now, so I usually just ignore the come-ons and continue to be his friend. So guy#2 is also on my off-limits list.

3. Guy I talk to a few times a week and hang out with once a week: We mesh. In fact, we mesh quite well. He always makes me laugh (very important), he's smart, he's random/silly (also very important), and he's sarcastic. Perfect, right? I love him to pieces but I'm not attracted to him. Nor is he to me, so actually, that works out.

4. Best friend from high school: This is the guy with whom I have a marriage pact. You know the one... "If neither of us are married by the time we're like 800 years old, then let's marry each other." He called me last week to tell me that he's totally in love with this new girl and want's to have like 10 million babies with her. I'm totally happy for him, but there goes my back-up plan.

5. Nice guy interested in me: Other than the fact that he annoys me, he would be perfect husband material. (Good job, outgoing, same upbringing, respects women, easy on the eyes, yada yada yada...)

6. Hot guy with comfy bed: That's right, I said it...he has a comfy bed. Draw your own conclusions here. If you're lost, or that naive, then read this link. I don't have this guy's phone number. Nor does he have mine. We rely purely on the fact that my best friend's boyfriend is his best friend.

So I pose 2 questions for you:

1. Why are unavailable/annoying guys interested in me?

2. Why am I interested in the one guy that could care less about me? (i.e. guy #6)

So, God, here's what I ask from you: Please send me a boyfriend that I don't have to share with any other girls; that will make me laugh/smile; that is smart; that will call me, love me, adore me (and I with him); and is hot. Or make guy #6 fit the above listed qualifications. Oh yeah, and I'd also like world peace and a cure for cancer.

The Merry Widow

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posted by The Merry Widow at 11:29 PM | 2 comments

Wednesday, February 23, 2005

My Super Sweet Quincenera

There's a reality show on MTV called "My super sweet 16" which features kids getting everything that they ask for on their 16th birthday on top of some extravagant million dollar party. And I'm not talking about a backyard BBQ or pool party...these parties are so over the top that even Paris Hilton and P.Diddy can't make it onto the guest list. Anywho, on one episode of this show, some little snot-nosed brat asks her dad for a Range Rover and then pouts when he suggests that maybe she get something a little smaller like a Mercedes, at which point she proclaims that she will never speak to her father again unless she gets the Range Rover.

Wow! I didn't know that life could be so simple. So today I picked up the phone and asked my dad to buy me a BMW. I explained to him that any 3-series BMW would suffice, as long as it had 4 doors, black leather interior, silver exterior, and a navigation system. I could even do without the upgraded rims as long as I was able to get the spoiler. My dad laughed at me and told me that he would buy me my BMW when he won the lottery, which basically meant that he wasn't going to buy me the car.

"But, Daddy," I explained, "The girl on MTV got a Range Rover for her Super Sweet 16."

"Mija, you're 28 years old...it's a little too late to ask for a sweet 16 gift. Besides, we're from Mexico. We don't do the sweet 16 thing. We do the quincenera thing."

"Then can I get a belated quincenera gift?"



So I hung up the phone and did what any logical 28 year old widow would do...I logged onto MTV.com to see if they would pimp my ride. If my dad won't buy me the car of my dreams, then maybe MTV would fix up my current set of wheels. And you know what? I don't qualify for that show. Not because my current car is too new...not because my current car has no visible exterior or interior body damage.... Do you wanna know the real reason why I don't qualify? I'm too old. "Must be between the ages of 18-22." Stupid MTV rules. Not only am I too old for a sweet 16 party or quincenera, but now I'm too old to be on MTV.

I will be turning 29 this year...maybe my dad will throw me a super-sweet-you're-almost-30-but-you still-have-one-more-year-left-in-your-twenties-fiesta-gigante. Then he'll buy me a 7 series BMW and I'll live happily ever after. But I'll probably just go out to dinner instead. (And still live happily ever after! Ha!)

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posted by The Merry Widow at 12:28 AM | 4 comments

Third Wheel

Single life is all fun and games until you hang out with your recently-coupled-up-partner- in-crime and her beau. Then you just get to sit around and watch them cuddle while you make jokes to make the situation less awkward for yourself. Good times.

At least I have my cat to cuddle with me. Nothing beats the lovin of a schizophrenic diva calico.


posted by The Merry Widow at 12:06 AM | 1 comments

Sunday, February 20, 2005

My Wedding Ring

Before I got married, my husband and I went to Tiffany's to pick out wedding bands. I love the wedding band that we picked for me. It's simple, yet one of the most beautiful rings that I've ever seen. I kept wearing my ring after my husband died. I wore it for a year. One day someone asked me if I was ever going to start dating again. I answered yes. "So then why do you still wear your ring? Are you hiding behind it?" At first, I was offended. How dare she ask me why I was wearing my ring. Didn't she know that I loved my husband and would always love him and that this ring was a symbol of that love? But then, as I thought about it some more, I found validity in her question. Why was I wearing my ring? Was it to keep guys away? Was it because I was still holding on to my husband? Or was it because I just loved the ring? Well, I figured that it was probably a little of all 3. So the next week, I decided that in order to move on, I needed to stop wearing the ring...or at least switch it to my other hand. So I did. I wore my ring on my right hand. Then one day, I took it off for cooking purposes, and never really got around to putting it back on again.

Coincidentally, someone asked me out the day after I stopped wearing the ring all together.

It's now been about a year since I stopped wearing my ring, and about 2 years since my husband has died. I've "dated" a few people over the past year and have been, well... as my friend Laura puts it, "living the life of a cute, single, 20-something girl." Most people don't even believe me when I tell them that I'm a widow. "But you're so happy..." Well why wouldn't I be? Yeah, I loved my husband with my whole heart and soul and would do anything to have one more day with him, but if there's anything that I learned from his death, it's that life is short and I shouldn't spend my time dwelling on his death when there is a whole world out there for me to experience. So here I am...living life like the 20-something single girl that I am, but with the wisdom gained from watching your soul mate leave this world.

Which brings me back to my ring. I realized this past Friday, that even though I stopped wearing it, I never put it away. It sits on my bathroom counter, right next to my make-up. A reminder that I don't wear it, but that I once had great love. And I wondered to myself, why haven't I put this away? Why do I keep it out? Am I still holding on to my past?

So I put it on. Not on my wedding finger, but on my right hand. It's still one of the prettiest rings I've ever seen. I was dressing up that night, to go to a club downtown, so I thought that it sort of added some "bling" to my outfit. Anywho, to make a long story short, I ran into a guy that I've been, well...let's call it "getting close to" and well... we decided to "get close" that night. And in the morning, when I woke up, I noticed that I was wearing my ring. And I laughed. It was never the ring that was holding me back. It was just me.

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posted by The Merry Widow at 11:58 PM | 4 comments
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