Last Monday, I got my picture taken for the cover of a puzzle/game box. It was a ton of fun, as people fussed over the lighting and how the models should pose. I thought that I would finally be able to see the puzzle/game that I was helping to endorse, but unfortunately, I didnt. I had to smile and pose around an empty table, along with my fellow models, pretending to play the game.
As I looked at the other deluded smiling models, I wondered if this was how it was done in the real world of modeling. Were products just placed in after the pictures were taken? My questions were soon answered as my newly fellow model-friend, Miguel, made a comment about the whole thing and received a very stern answer from the photographer.
ME: Dude. How dare you question the greatest photographer of our time.
MIGUEL: Whatever, this is glay. I mean...gay.
ME: Ha! Dude you messed it up. You're stupid.
MIGUEL: Shut up!
I couldn't help but fight my laughter, as Miguel kept making little side comments every time the photographer said something. And me, being of the quick-witted mind, followed his comments with my jokes, as well. After the photo shoot, I hung out with Miguel and we became, as he put it, "soul-brotha's". It was funny how one could be considered part of the family after only a few jokes, but I guess when you decide to make a family out of friends, you get to choose who you want and dont want. And as a part of this new family, Miguel invited me to go with him and a few other friends to Douglas.
Saturday night, I was in Douglas, two hours away from Tucson, and two minutes away from the border of Mexico. And it was there, in downtown Mexico that I partied with my new family of friends. The club was hot, and yet, oh so quiet. The reason being that the music could only be heard through headphones, that were supplied by the club, rather than from overhead speakers. Apparently, this was a club that wanted its patrons to meet, drink, and stay. And stay, I did. One drink turned into many and before I knew it, I was falling asleep on the bed of a sleezy motel. To avoid looking like I had been up all night partying, I decided to stay up all morning. Unfortunately, my plan fell through.
Sunday morning, a time for rest, a time for relaxation, a time for getting over last night's hangover. As my pastor talked about Christ rising from the grave, all I could think about was last night's dinner, rising up my throat. Sure, it probably wasnt the holiest of thoughts I ever had in a church, but then again, how holy would it be if I pulled a Linda Blair?
After church, we headed over to my Uncle Richard's house for an Easter barbeque, and it was there, in the middle of my barbeque glazed chicken lunch, that my Aunt Corinna decided to tell us, my uncle was leaving for Afghanistan this Friday. It was a shock to all, except for my uncle and aunt who had known about the trip for several months. And it was at that moment in time, while everyone asked questions, I found myself, not really caring about my uncle going to war.
My uncle isnt really one of the friendliest people you'll meet. In fact, if you were to go up to him and introduce yourself, he'd give you a grunt and then walk away. He was the type of guy who distanced himself from his loved ones, even at family gatherings. So it comes to know surprise that I'm not really all that close to him. Which is sad, seeing that he's leaving for Afghanistan and I really dont have any feelings for his leave of absense.
Instead, I felt closer to my new family of friends in Douglas than I did with my family here in Tucson. And then it hit me. Maybe I was like my uncle, in that I had more fun elsewhere, than I did with my own family. To me, the most important thing in life is your family. There are days when you love them, and others when you don't. But in the end, they're the people you always come home to. Sometimes it's the family you're born into and sometimes it's the one you make for yourself. And I wonder, is it bad to have more feelings for the family you make, rather than the family you already have?
As I looked at the other deluded smiling models, I wondered if this was how it was done in the real world of modeling. Were products just placed in after the pictures were taken? My questions were soon answered as my newly fellow model-friend, Miguel, made a comment about the whole thing and received a very stern answer from the photographer.
ME: Dude. How dare you question the greatest photographer of our time.
MIGUEL: Whatever, this is glay. I mean...gay.
ME: Ha! Dude you messed it up. You're stupid.
MIGUEL: Shut up!
I couldn't help but fight my laughter, as Miguel kept making little side comments every time the photographer said something. And me, being of the quick-witted mind, followed his comments with my jokes, as well. After the photo shoot, I hung out with Miguel and we became, as he put it, "soul-brotha's". It was funny how one could be considered part of the family after only a few jokes, but I guess when you decide to make a family out of friends, you get to choose who you want and dont want. And as a part of this new family, Miguel invited me to go with him and a few other friends to Douglas.
Saturday night, I was in Douglas, two hours away from Tucson, and two minutes away from the border of Mexico. And it was there, in downtown Mexico that I partied with my new family of friends. The club was hot, and yet, oh so quiet. The reason being that the music could only be heard through headphones, that were supplied by the club, rather than from overhead speakers. Apparently, this was a club that wanted its patrons to meet, drink, and stay. And stay, I did. One drink turned into many and before I knew it, I was falling asleep on the bed of a sleezy motel. To avoid looking like I had been up all night partying, I decided to stay up all morning. Unfortunately, my plan fell through.
Sunday morning, a time for rest, a time for relaxation, a time for getting over last night's hangover. As my pastor talked about Christ rising from the grave, all I could think about was last night's dinner, rising up my throat. Sure, it probably wasnt the holiest of thoughts I ever had in a church, but then again, how holy would it be if I pulled a Linda Blair?
After church, we headed over to my Uncle Richard's house for an Easter barbeque, and it was there, in the middle of my barbeque glazed chicken lunch, that my Aunt Corinna decided to tell us, my uncle was leaving for Afghanistan this Friday. It was a shock to all, except for my uncle and aunt who had known about the trip for several months. And it was at that moment in time, while everyone asked questions, I found myself, not really caring about my uncle going to war.
My uncle isnt really one of the friendliest people you'll meet. In fact, if you were to go up to him and introduce yourself, he'd give you a grunt and then walk away. He was the type of guy who distanced himself from his loved ones, even at family gatherings. So it comes to know surprise that I'm not really all that close to him. Which is sad, seeing that he's leaving for Afghanistan and I really dont have any feelings for his leave of absense.
Instead, I felt closer to my new family of friends in Douglas than I did with my family here in Tucson. And then it hit me. Maybe I was like my uncle, in that I had more fun elsewhere, than I did with my own family. To me, the most important thing in life is your family. There are days when you love them, and others when you don't. But in the end, they're the people you always come home to. Sometimes it's the family you're born into and sometimes it's the one you make for yourself. And I wonder, is it bad to have more feelings for the family you make, rather than the family you already have?
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