good ol' fashioned christmas

It was Christmas of 1994 and my family and I had just moved into a new house on the upper west side of Tucson with the beautiful Starrpass Mountains as our backyard. It was a beautiful four bedroom, two and a half bathroom house with an extra large family/dinning room and a traditional brick fireplace with a modern skylight. It was large enough to accompany our entire family, both my father's side and mother's side. And since we were blessed with such a grand home, it was decided that our house would be the house to have Christmas that year.

My mother had spent days before the big event, preparing to create a fabulous feast that would be remembered for Christmases to come. There was a tangy peppered roast turkey, a ham covered with a honey, brown sugar and cinnamon glaze, greenbeans with silvered honeyed almonds, red potatoes floating in a bath of butter and oh so much more! It truly was going to be a feast of wild and ravenous delight!

On Christmas day, we awoke to a large, classic, Douglas Fir surrounded by presents. Santa had apparently come the previous night and had read my list because I had the fully poseable, karate chop action, Mighty Morphin Power Ranger Action Figure of my dreams! I knew it was going to be the best Christmas ever! Of course, I now know I spoke too soon. Before we left for church that day, my mom placed the turkey and ham in the oven, letting the meats soak and cook in their delectable juices.

After we got home, family members began to arrive one by one. There was an array of hors d'oeuvre's with shrimp, crudite, breads, cheeses, dips and spreads and very soon, the party was in full swing. There was a sentimental feeling, as all around voices could be heard singing, "Let's be jolly; Deck the halls with boughs of holly." Okay, maybe it wasn't that picture perfect, but it was just as fun.

Soon it was time for dinner, and it was at that exact moment in time when my mother discovered our oven was broken. Sometime between church and the hors d'oeuvre's our oven had stopped working and absolutely nothing was cooked. Everyone was too busy mingling to notice that no heavy, warm aroma's were swifting through the air. Stomachs were growling and my fearful parents tried to concoct a plan that would save Christmas. Immeadiately, they began to knock on our new neighbor's houses, explaining their horrific situation and asking if they could use their ovens.

What happened next, became Christmas lore in our family. My mom and dad ran from house to house in our neighborhood cul-de-sac, carrying dish after dish. It was quite the sight to see, as my parents ran throughout the neighborhood with casserole dishes in tow. Time was passing slowly and everyone was growing more and more hungry. Once she realized her perfect dinner would never be a reality, my mother finally gave up, pulled out a couple dozen frozen tamales from the freezer and called Domino's Pizza. That year, we were introduced to a non-traditonal Italian Thanksgiving and to this day, I get such a yen for eggnog everytime I have black olive and sausage pizza.

So if you dont get that toy you always wanted or if your turkey goes up in flames, as long as you're surrounded by the people you love, you can never have a bad Christmas! Merry Christmas, from my family to yours!

spice up your life

When you're twentysomething and you've got a weekend to spare, there's nothing better to do than spend an entire weekend with a friend. And that's exactly what my friend Madelaine and I did this past weekend in California. I got her a pair of Spice Girls tickets for her birthday and we just made an entire L.A. weekend out of the whole thing. As you know, I almost never post pictures, but on this occassion, I figure it's ok to break with tradition. Enjoy!

escape from tucson

I got stuck in the elevator at work today. Yeah. Between the first and second floor, so it wasnt that bad, but it was annoying. Ugh. There's a half hour I'll never get back. Still, I guess it was nice just to have some time to myself. Even if I did have to sit on the dirty floor. I've been so preoccupied with work and school and stuff, that it was nice to have a mini break for a brief mortal minute, and just be able to relax.

They say, when you're alone, and life is making you lonely,or when you've got worries with all the noise and the hurry, you can always go to, downtown. But since I already work downtown those rules just dont apply to me. I needed a weekend vacation and I needed it fast. So as I sat there and waited for maintence to shut down the entire elevator and manually lower me down, I came up with a list of things to do this weekend.

Go to a concert. Who doesnt love going to a concert? Especially a reunion tour! You get to dress up, rock out to some great music with other fans and just have a grand ol' time. It's a great time to just release all your stress and let loose. And the best part of going to a concert? You can never be too drunk!

Take a trip. Whether it's a road trip or catching the redeye to another country, it's always nice to get away and explore new sights and sounds. You're always bound to have an adventure, and a great story or new friendship to go along with it.

I'd add more to the list, but I'm already late for my flight to L.A. for the concert tonight!

as if

It's the first of December and already the holidays are in full swing. Children are laughing, people are passing...not smile after smile, but confusing and bewildered words. And as usual, I turn to you to help me figure it out.

The other day, I had my first magazine meeting. I was super psyched and even went all out for the occassion, donning a tuxedo vest and jean look that said, "young professional, ready to take the Tucson nightlife by storm." I even got a fresh, new notebook. I was ready to kick ass. I was the first one to arrive at the meeting, which gave me the opportunity to meet and greet all my fellow writers, editors, photographers, and sale directors...except one.

After getting the position with 520Living, I was assigned a young photographer, named Martin, who would accompany me, when I conducted my interviews and research. We spoke breifly through email, before the meeting, debating whether Pearl Nightclub or Armitage Winehouse would be a suitable place to feature in our premiere issue. I thought Pearl would be perfect, since it was the first and only Las Vegas-style nightclub with a full concierge and limosuine service. But Martin had different views. Because Pearl boasted a plush Omnisex bathroom, the first of its kind in all of Arizona, Martin felt that it wasnt exactly the best nightclub to promote, especially when some of our advertisements were from high class tea rooms and ladies that wore red hats. I disagreed. If this was the future of nightclub bathrooms, wouldnt it be best to jump on the bandwagon and feature it? We couldnt come to an agreement, and so, the emails just stopped.

Martin was late to the meeting, and I know, despite the fact we never saw each other, he must've known he was walking by me. Why else would he say in a stage whisper, "I didnt know we were supposed to dress up?" an obvious reference to my vest. Ugh. As if. Who was he to be dishing out fashion advice? He was wearing a small gold hoop earring in his left ear and looked like the poster child for a yard sale shopper. After the meeting, I was talking to one of my editors, when Martin walked up, threw his business card on the table and said, "Guess were working together. Call me." It was unbeliveably rude and I cant help but think, he's still upset over the nightclub disagreement we had over a month ago...right?

A week later, I ran into Martin. Well, actually, I didnt so much run into Martin, as I stood behind a plant and watched him from afar. He was at Mike's Coffee and Tea, ordering an iced Chai. Was he stalking me? What business did he have downtown? Especially so close to my work. Once Martin left, I headed over to Mike's, hoping he had given one of the coffee barista's privilged information I could use against him. Instead, what I got was information I dont know what to do with. I had ordered my usual white mocha when Gwen came out from the back and said, "WOW David! Your hair looks REALLY cute today. If I could, I would TOTALLY make out with you."

Gwen's words stuck with me all day. Made me even forget whats-his-face. But was she serious? Even if she was just kidding, who says something like that out loud? They say that 50% of people who claim to just be kidding are really telling the truth, and I wondered if maybe Gwen fell under that category. Given our brief and odd history, it's not too far-fetch of an idea. Right? I swear, Ebeneezer never had it as hard as I do.

breaking up is the easiest thing to do

Gwen broke up with her boyfriend. That's right, the spiteful and jealous coffee manager of Mike's Coffee & Tea with the cancer-lung boyfriend, is now single. When the news first broke, I couldn't believe it. After all, breaking up with someone is never easy. There's all those feelings and the pointing of the finger and...it's just really messy. Especially when one party is dying. But somehow, Gwen did it without any guilt. Soon after, Gwen began to have a reoccurring dream. A dream that featured...me.

Gwen and I travel through the woods, for no apparent reason, when all of a sudden, a very large and frightening thing is heard in the distance, coming towards us. So, we find these baskets, that are conveniently located at the river's edge, get inside and float down with the current. Just like Moses. But unlike Moses, we never get discovered by Egyptian royalty, because at that exact moment, Gwen wakes up.

When Gwen told me about her week-long dream, I had no idea how to interpret such a dream, so I just smiled, nodded, and pretended I understood every word. That's what you have to do, whenever someone tells you something that leaves you confused and bewildered. Like when you're told you're influence is affecting a friendship.

It was a regular Friday night and my friends Hadassah and Guy invited me to the Arizona IceCats Hockey team. I'm not really a big fan of hockey, but when Hadassah and Guy explained that it was a great place that encouraged excessive drinking with outrageous insults, I was in. I don't really remember how the game went, since apparently no one really watches the sport, but rather uses the time to catch up with old friends on old times. After the game, we went back to a friend's house where one of Hadassah's friends, Shelly, confronted me about my influence over her old friend. According to Shelly, ever since Hadassah had been hanging out with me, she was a new person...Haute-dassah She wasn't partying as much and was even turning down mid-week party invitations, to study and do schoolwork. She began to incorporate designer pieces into her wardrobe, trading in her Vans for Versace and her Dickies for Dior. She even began to see the benefits of going to the theatre, museums and other cultural experiences. And it made Shelly feel she was losing a friend.

If Shelly was looking for an apology, she wasn't going to get one. What was I gonna say? "Sorry you don't go to school and barely work part time at the Cluck N' Chuck, but I will try and get Hadassah to stop working so hard so you guys can party..."?! Hadassah was growing up. She wasn't cashing in her paychecks for weekly booze fests and when she realized being a young professional in the real estate business also meant, looking the part, she had to ditch her old style. She was still the same person, but just a little bit older and little more wiser. Then the big blow really came. Shelly asked/pleaded me if I could see less of Hadassah. Basically, she wanted me to break-up with a friend. And I couldn't do that. Shelly made it seem as if ending the friendship would be the easiest thing to do and even had a basic outline on how to do it. I was in shock, but didn't show it, since I really had no way of going about the situation. I felt as if I should tell someone, but who? Shelly was friends with everyone at the party and probably possessed the power to turn them all against me with a raised eyebrow and Hadassah and Guy were off in some room making out like drunken sorority girls.

I had to tell somebody. It's bad when you keep bad issues and concerns inside of you, because you then become a ticking time bomb and at the most unexpected moment, you explode. Like a marriage, for example. If you have a problem with your spouse, you should talk to them. It's the only way they'll know something is bothering you...besides the obvious subtle hints. I thought my boss Alice knew that. But apparently, not. She came into work the other day, about an hour before we even opened, with red eyes and a sniffling nose. She claimed it was allergies, but I knew it was something else. And my suspicions were confirmed after Alice left work, leaving her email on the computer. I know she left it there for me to see, since before she left, she went straight to her email account and opened up the sent email.

I will be at Aubrey's recital from 6-7. At that time, I want you to get all your shit out of my house. I don't want you there anymore. You have taken advantage me for the last time. Never again. I try not to be a nagging wife, but you have been given too much freedom. You never listen to me. You constantly put your friends before me and our kids. You spend more time with your friends and just visit your kids. Our kids are beautiful and great, but you will never know that because you never spend time with them. And I will make sure you never see them again. They don't deserve to be hurt over and over again. You spend more time talking with your friends, hanging out with your friends and you would rather spend the night on their couch at their apartments then be at home with your wife. You even invite them to our house for dinner ON OUR ANNIVERSARY!!! I feel like a single parent while you are nothing more than the guy who gives me money. We are nothing more than roommates who fuck. Don't get me wrong, the sex is great, but I need MORE than a nightly fuck. I NEED A HUSBAND. Our family needs a man to be there with us all the time, not just some of the time. I don't love you anymore. You'll be hearing from my lawyer. Goodbye.

a family affair

A couple months ago, I talked about my Aunt Cassandra who was arrested for being a drug mule and went to jail, leaving her two children in the care of our family. It was an unexpected twist of events, and thankfully, it lasted for only two weeks. Somewhere a judge took pity on my aunt and released her from a lifetime of wearing an unflattering orange jumpsuit, on the promise that she would never transport drugs from one cartel to the next. And so far, Cassandra was true to her word. Unfortunately, there was another judge, who reopened her case, and after a thorough review, decided she wasn’t punished enough. She has a court date on the 15th to decide if whether or not she will spend this Christmas and the next few with her family and children or with another gay-for-the-stay jail mate.

And while my family waits for the outcome of my aunt’s trial, we’re also waiting for the outcome of my mother’s cousin’s failing health. Having been a heavy alcoholic and heavy smoker all his life, Tio Chuy was now temporarily situated at the University Medical Center, because of a hole in his intestine and his kidneys and liver giving out on him. I’ll admit, I wasn’t too shocked that Tio Chuy’s abusive lifestyle landed him in the hospital, but what did shock me was that everyone around me all said the same thing: “It came as a surprise.” God, was I the only one that read the Surgeon General’s warning or the caution label posted on every cigarette packet and alcohol bottle in America? And even though it was heart-wrenching to see him laid up on the hospital bed, tubes coming out of every orifice, it was even more gut-wrenching to see a picture of him laying next to me at our family’s Thanksgiving Dinner.

That’s right. The Tellez clan has had their Thanksgiving Dinner. One my Tio Chuy’s last dying request was that he go hunting one last time with my grandfather and my other uncles. Since no one in my family can really take time off until Thanksgiving week, that’s when they’re going, prompting my family to bump our annual dinner, 19 days prior. And if it wasn’t bad enough sitting next to a picture of a half-dead relative, I also had to sit across from my great-aunt Leti, who was now a card-carrying member of the amputee club.

A couple weeks back, my great aunt Leti , who is a diabetic, cut herself on her leg and didn’t really give it a second thought as she cleaned her wound. Unfortunately, it was that second thought that could have saved her limb. And now, her leg stub was staring at me all through dinner. Between the photograph and the leg, I couldn’t decide which was worse and so I ate very little. There was just too much on my mind, including my own problems.

The other day, my mother decided to clean my room. She called me, with the odd request, while I was at work, and though I tried to discourage her from entering my private quarters, she insisted. I was helpless. Even if I left work at that exact moment in time, I would never be able to stop her from finding what she found. Condoms. Handcuffs. Chocolate body paint. Half-empty bottles of alcohol. I could go on, but that’s not the point. The point is, discovering these very items that were well-hidden within my room, led my mother to have a full-heart attack. She was outraged at what she found, and I was outraged to discover, she not only went through all my personal stuff, she rearranged my entire room and left my room a bigger mess than it already was. And she refused to clean the mess. My dad gave me until the end of the week to clean up everything or else, he threatened to throw away and burn all my clothes. Both my parents had undoubtedly turned certifiably insane. According to my mother, I had brought “evil” into the house and she even threatened to call the cops on me for bringing “illegal substance onto her private property.” I knew they couldn’t do anything, so I told her to call them, which only enraged her more.

So now, I have to move. I cant stay an a house that’s so inhibited and controlling. My only question is…how do I start?

co-ed concerns

Yesterday, I got the weirdest piece of mail. Well, it wasnt so much weird, as that it made people all around me weird. It was my very first Baby Shower Invitation. For years, pregnant women and their friends have gathered in circles to celebrate the birth of a new baby, "showering" the mother-to-be with gifts. But today, what used to be a sacred gathering of women, apparently has now transformed into a mixer for co-eds. And it's getting everyone riled up.

For traditional people who are stuck in the old ways, like my mother, a co-ed baby shower deplores the sactinity and honor of a baby shower. Having never been to one of these shindigs, I didnt get what the big deal was. A party's, a party, whether you're a guy, a girl or knocked up. Right? At least, that's what I used to think. But for some, co-ed things are just not acceptable when it comes to certain things. Take my photographer, Bill, for example.

Bill was the photographer that was assigned to me by my magazine, and apparently, this 30-something was very conservative. One of my first pieces was supposed to cover the nightclub Pearl, Tucson's first Las Vegas-style nightclub, that boasted a full concerige and limosuine service, an exotic, relaxing and romantic Asian restaurant and a grand omnisex bathroom. And it was because of this grand omnisex bathroom, that Bill had second thoughts and concerns about featuring the club in the premiere issue of the magazine. Would the advertisers be offended for running their ads next to a story where boys and girls peed and pooped in harmony? I dont know.

In my humble opinion, I think featuring the nightclub would be a great story, in the sense that if Tucson was heading in the direction of having omnisex bathrooms in its nightlclubs, wouldnt it be the responsibility of a supposed "leading-edge" magazine to feature such a contemporary place? Since Bill had voiced his opinions to my editor, I voiced mine as well, but in the end, traditon won over contemporary. So now, I have to write about a winehouse. Which isnt bad, since I found out that Arizona is becoming one of the fastest growing wine brewing places in the country. But still. It's no VIP in a nightclub.

Is it just me, or is co-ed, something of the future and something that we ultimately have to get used to? I mean, if the people who are experiencing it are OK with it, then what's the big deal?

change of weather, change of heart

If you happen to live in Arizona, Tucson particularly, you will note that we do not have all four seasons like other cities do, but rather, only two: summer and winter. It comes unexpectedly, around this time of month, prompting one to put away the thin cotton sheets, and pull out the goose down feather comforters. And though you never prepare for the swift change, it's something that's easy to adjust to. I wish the same could be said for friends.

It was Friday afternoon, and I was getting ready to go to the biggest concert in Arizona: Phooson. A combination of the cities Phoenix and Tucson, Phooson was an idea started by local morning show DJ's John Jay and Rich, that became a music palooza with Enrique Iglesias, Ne-Yo, Fabolous, Jonas Brothers, Paula Deanda and Kat Deluna and a whole bunch of other singers, including 2007 American Idol winner Jordan Sparks. I had planned to go with my friend Maria, but she unfortunately had to cancel, because she thought the concert was on Saturday and switched shifts with a co-worker who was of town. But lucky for me, I did have someone to go with.

Earlier that week, after I found out Maria wouldn’t be attending the concert, I called everyone in Blackberry phonebook, but no one was available. Partially, because it was last minute and partially because the concert was on a Friday afternoon. But then, as luck would have it, I found someone. I wont say their name, (which is a total first, I know) because they may or may not read this blog. My friend was ecstatic that I had tickets and agreed to come with me. They were actually in the middle of moving down from Phoenix, back to Tucson and since they were helping me out, I offered to help them move back in. They called me, but since I had my phone on vibrate, I didn’t realize it until 11:30 at night, when I very busy watching an old I Love Lucy rerun. I called them immediately as the end credits began to scroll over the iconic black and white heart, but this time, they didn’t answer. So, I went to sleep.

The next day, the day of the concert, I must've called my friend at least 10 times and text them, just as many times, all to no avail. They weren't answering, and as the minutes ticked closer and closer to the start of the concert, I was getting more and more nervous each time their voicemail came on. Two hours...One hour...Half an hour...fifteen minutes...five minutes...one minute...thirty seconds...fifteen seconds...one second...half a second...quarter of a second... Nothing. No call, no text, no nothing. I missed the concert. I should've just went, like my blog friend Carrisa suggested, but what fun is a concert if you have no one to share it with? On the other hand, what good is it sharing a concert with someone who doesn’t even consider your feelings and still hasnt called to this very day?

I think it's worse being stood up by a friend, rather than a blind date, because with a blind date, you’re stood up by someone who doesn’t even know you, rather than someone who does. Wait…I guess that’s a bad example, because being stood up by someone who doesn’t even give you a chance…yeah, never mind. The point is, being stood up is bad, and the thing that I don’t get is, why I was stood up? Am I a bad person?

Tuesday night, I went to the theatre with my boss Alice and her husband Azten and my friends Madelaine and Mick, and saw the most hysterical and absolutely entertaining Broadway show of my life: Avenue Q! Having grown up on an education taught by puppets and furry little monsters, the play totally spoke to me. As a kid, I always knew that the characters on Sesame Street had a hidden agenda, or a double life that PBS just never showed, and after seeing Avenue Q, I was so right on the money. It was absolutely one of the best shows, I have ever seen. And my friend Mick couldn’t agree more. In fact, he kept thanking me over and over again for inviting him to the show and cast party. What was a regular Broadway show night for me, was a party of the year for him. He couldn’t get over the fact that he was mingling with road tour actors and it actually made me feel good that somebody really appreciated me.

The same thing happened the following Sunday, when Alice and I attended a charity event. Every year, local Tucson business gather to design elaborate table settings (I have pictures, this time) that represent their company and allow fellow Tucsonites to get to know small businesses in their community, all to help children fight disease. Or plant trees. Or clean the seas. I don’t remember. But what I do remember is how thankful Alice and Azten were for my services. They couldn’t imagine pulling off the table setting without my help. They just kept thanking me and they even offered me one of their car’s because I had had car trouble earlier that morning. I mean, they were that thankful. Which I don’t understand…if there are some friends who value me very much, why are there some that don’t even value your feelings? And for that matter, why are they the ones you cant stop thinking about?

on the way down

I spoke too soon. I know I did. I should've known better. I should have finished watching the rest of that Will & Grace episode...

HEALTH
I wanted to have my annual family birthday dinner at the JW Marriot Terrace Restaurant but the hour long trip didn't even seem worth it, so I settled for The Claim Jumper. We were the first family there and the manager made a point to come and personally attend our table, making sure our meal was just perfect. After an appetizer of loaded potato skins, Southwest egg rolls and a couple of swapped stories the manager was so enticed with my family (I know...it still doesn't make sense to me!) that he told us to eat whatever we wanted, because our meal was on the house! You NEVER offer a Mexican anything free, because we will take advantage of that offer and include three truckloads of various family members. Poor manager...he never saw it coming. And neither did my clothes, because I totally gained back my 80s-theme weekend weight back. Ugh.

FAMILY
They all took the week off. I have not had a single moment to myself. Except at work, but that doesn't even count.

LOVE
Gwen is psycho. Like vindictive, spiteful psycho. My old co-worker Ashley came into my work the other day and like old friends, we caught up on old times. She recounted her adventures of traveling to South Africa to help feed the hungry and traveling to China to help tutor Chinese students. It was during a mid-travel tale that Gwen was on her way to the bank to make a deposit, when saw Ashley and I laughing at a picture of Ashley holding a baby panda.

GWEN: Hey David...what's up? Who's she?
ME: Uh...this is my friend. Ashley. Ashley, this is Gwen. She's the manager over at Mikes.

It was a stare down for the ages. Gwen did NOT like Ashley and I have no idea why. And to prove her jealousy was legit, Gwen started bringing her tumor-ed boyfriend, Adam, to work. At first, I thought it was just a one-time thing, but now that I've seen him FOUR times this week, including once in the lobby bathroom, I know he was not brought by mere coincidence. I needed more proof, before I could come to a definite conclusion, so I asked my friend Hadassah for the dirt on Gwen, since she used to work with her. I'm still waiting for that proof, but seriously...are girls really that spiteful?

FRIENDSHIPS
It seems as if though Phooson may be a no-go. The friend I was supposed to go with switched schedules with a fellow co-worker, thinking the concert was on Saturday, as opposed to tomorrow, which means, I am stuck with two tickets for an all-day music event and have absolutely no one to share it with! I'd take Gwen, but then she might bring Adam, leaving me as the desperate third wheel. I had told my friend more than several times of the date, so for them to just switch schedules, without even giving the concert a second thought, makes me wonder if it was a real accident or not.

WORK
The fax number I was given to send in my writer's contract is "temporarily not in service." So is my publisher's cell phone number. I've emailed him several times and he has not contacted me back. Neither has my friend, the sales director, Aleah. It's almost to the point that I am thinking this whole magazine thing is a hoax and I'm the butt of one seriously sick joke.

Why is it, when the most unbelievably good things happen to you, unbelievably bad things are right behind?

the five pillars

There’s an old episode of Will & Grace where Will and Grace are sitting on the couch, reading the newspaper and Will takes a test; The Five Pillars of Happiness. And, because it came with a free lotion sample, you know it's scientific. And since today’s my birthday, a birthday that for the first time in a very long time I am not afraid of turning older, I thought I’d take the test too.

HEALTH
There’s something about a time period where depleting the ozone layer with hairspray was a necessary fashion must and both Boy George and George Michael were straight that makes you want to party like it’s 1989. And that’s exactly what I did last weekend. It was my friend Rosie’s birthday party, which actually turned out to be a major bust since more than 95% of the party guests were manish lesbians. So I drank and drank and drank, until I lost all feeling in my hair. The next morning I lost about five pounds, just by laying by the toilet. I didn’t eat anything for the next two days and I can honestly say my pants feel looser. Check one for health!

FAMILY
My family is still very much odd. There’s no changing it, since it’s all genetics. But for the moment they’re OK. My mom made a new friend in a fellow psychotic Christian-fanatic who so happens to be an interior decorator and because their beliefs are outrageously similar, she’s redecorating our entire house for free. Not too bad I guess. My dad switched shifts with a soon-to-be dad and is now working nights at the Air National Guard and because my brothers are old enough to actually have jobs and contribute to society, I get a few nights free from all the channel switching and radio blasting. I know it doesn’t seem right that I’m happy I have free time from my family, but trust me…it’s a good thing.

LOVE
I’m not in love, right now, but I am kinda seeing someone. It’s a little iffy, though. There’s a new manager at Mike’s Coffee Shop and her name is Gwen. She’s cute, she’s funny and she makes me wanna feed her grapes and brush her hair (for the record, Gwen isn’t a monkey, although I do wish I could carry her all day). We’ve actually sorta gone out twice for drinks after work and each time it’s been really fun. There’s actually one little, teensy, weensy problem…she has a boyfriend. With a tumor. In his lungs. I know. But like they say…love makes you do crazy things.

FRIENDSHIPS
My friend life couldn’t be better. Even though we’re all busy with school and work and other aspects in our social lives, I think the fact that we all make time for each other says a lot. Before we used to make plans, days ahead. But now that were a little bit older and a little bit wiser, we've learned to make plans months in advance, because we know things can come up when you least expect it. I’ll be sure to include you in those events, too! One thing to look forward to? Phooson.

WORK
I officially got the magazine job! I signed the contract yesterday and am now officially a special features writer for 520Living! They’re gonna send me out to nightclubs and other hotspots in and around the 520 area and I’ll be writing all about it. To break it down, I’m gonna get paid to go out and have fun! On Tuesday, I met with the publisher and learned that his family owns their own publishing company, which is how he got into the magazine biz. They have lifestyle magazines in Los Angeles and San Bernadino, just to name a few. At twenty-two, I’m the youngest writer on staff and the only one without a history of prior experience. Unless you count my stint during high school when I was on the newspaper and yearbook staff. It’s a major step towards a career as a journalist and I couldn’t be more happier! After I left the meeting, I wanted to go out and do something. That’s when I came across this flyer that flew onto my leg:

Two roads lie ahead. One is straight and wide. The other winds it way through back roads. It's peak traffic time, though, on the big road. Success depends on you applying creative alternatives in achieving your goal. Discover a path. It's time to gaze far into the future to find meaning and inspiration, while paying less attention to the day-to-day issues that usually fill your thoughts.

How's that for a terrific birthday horoscope?

fired

Ugh. I just got fired from my job at Hallmark. Ok, let me explain.

My friend Rose was tired of me never making any time for her or her family, but with school and working full time at the flower shop, who had the time? So, she hooked me up with a seasonal part time evening job at Hallmark, which actually coincided with my plan to save up so I could visit Europe next summer. It was all going fine. Or at least, I thought it was. I was the first person in over seven years to correctly find all the cards in my training test and I sold six Precious Moments figurines to a customer on my first day. I thought I was doing pretty damn good.

But then on Sunday, my training manager called me to the back room and told me she had been observing me.

CORALEE: David…I’ve been watching you…and…I don’t think it’s going to work out between you and Hallmark.
ME: What do you mean?
CORALEE: You don’t seem that motivated. It’s like you don’t want to be here.
ME: Uh…no. I do want to be here. I like it here. It’s…
CORALEE: You’re heart doesn’t seem in it. You don’t approach the customers or talk to them…
ME: Are you kidding me? I’m always talking to customers. That’s how I sell them stuff.
CORALEE: You just don’t seem passionate about working here…
ME: Seriously? It’s selling cards. You really cant get too passionate about selling cards. I’m sorry I don’t have an orgasm every time I make a sale, but I think I do pretty good.
CORALEE: Mm-hmm. Well, it's not just me...Wendy the manager, has also observed you and she feels the same way. She says you have an attitude problem, something I really don’t agree with, but…
ME: But I’ve never worked with Wendy! How can she say that? I don’t have an attitude problem. I come in and do my work and I always make sure I have a smile on my face. I never complain that I always get stuck with the vacuum duties, I always offer to take out the trash…and I’m the best damn gift wrapper you have!
CORALEE: Well, there was that incident last week when a girl came in and asked us if she was interrupting you and I. She was David. I was in the middle of training you and you just completely ignore me to help her. That hurt.
ME: But she was a customer! I thought we were supposed to treat our customers as if they were guests in our home!
CORALEE: Yeah…I’m sorry David. We’ve just decided you and Hallmark are not going to work out. You’re a nice, sweet, young man and you’re a hard worker, but…I’m sorry.

And then she gave me a hug. A total Judas Iscariot hug. I knew my performance at Hallmark was impeccable, no matter what Coralee said. Maybe I was being let go because I was the only guy working there. I mean, it made sense. There were employees there who used their cell phones to text while out on the floor and some of them didn’t even know the location of certain cards, but yet I was the one being let go? I wanted to knock the Precious Moments out of Coralee and say, “How’s that for an attitude adjustment?” but I knew I had to show restraint. After all, I had shown restraint earlier last week.

There’s a networking business organization my boss Alice works with and when she found out they needed someone to write their monthly online newsletter, she recommended me. At first, I really liked doing it. I really liked attending the meetings and having total control of writing a newsletter. But then it got straining. And then it got draining. William, the founder of the networking business organization turned out to be a neurotic man who never slept and had a severe obsessive compulsive disorder. He would call at 11 or 12 at night, asking me to add an article in the newsletter or to ask me if I had noticed the changes he made. It got to the point where he would get upset with me if the newsletter wasn’t done within a week. I knew I had to quit. Our personalities just clashed and I just couldn’t put up with his neurosis any longer.

I was in the middle of writing my resignation letter ,with the help of Alice, when my phone rang. It was Aleah, a former sales director at a local radio station and a member of the networking business organization, who had called to tell me, my services were no longer needed for the online newsletter. William, told Aleah to tell me the networking business organization was “going in a different way.” They wanted an actual member to be in charge of the newsletter to “devote more time” to it. Ugh. “Devote more time,” my ass. I devoted plenty of time to it and I even put up with William’s insanity for five months! I couldn’t believe I was fired, before I could quit. So unfair.

But as luck would have it, there was a silver lining on a window that was just opening up. Aleah had recently left her position at the radio to work for 520 Living, a new lifestyle magazine that was launching early next year and she asked me if I would be interested in writing reviews for the magazine about all the trendy hotspots around town! I would be getting paid to have fun! I, of course, had to submit a sample review of the last nightclub I attended, but as of this morning...I have the job!

And as Coralee waved goodbye to me, I knew there was a silver lining somewhere in all of this. I just wish I knew where.

send in the killer clowns

The average college student will attend roughly fifteen hundred parties over the course of their college career. I’ve attended about half. All parties are generally the same, and usually what separates the “good parties” from the “bad parties” is how drunk you are. You’ll notice the best parties will not be the ones you arrive at in the beginning of the night, but rather the ones you stumble into at the end. Each party usually consists of one mix iPod shuffle, blasting the hottest hip-hop and R&B music, one keg of beer, one table of hard alcohol and chasers and one roomful of guys and girls you’ll recognize from class, drinking as much as their little red Solo Cups can hold.

Now, you may get the idea to hold a party at your place, which in itself is a very foolish and stupid idea. Unless you have the crazy notion to run around worrying that nobody spills anything, breaks anything, tears anything, or steals anything and then trying to convince the cops that everyone is actually watching a movie and eating pizza. Yeah. It’s much better to keep the party-throwing to losers who enjoy sacrificing everything they hold so dear to their hearts, and keep the party going, spilling, breaking, tearing, and stealing to yourself. So, when my friend Maria’s new boyfriend Manny invited me to a party he was throwing for Maria’s 21st birthday, earlier this week, I wondered just what kind of guy he was.

Maria had met Manny at the drugstore where she worked. They instantly clicked together when their training manager tried to describe the “Ethnic aisle” to them without sounding racist. As fate would have it, Maria and Manny had a lot of things in common, especially in acquaintances, because a lot of Manny‘s friends were in the same engineering club that Maria‘s ex-boyfriend used to attend. Maria couldn’t stop talking about Manny and I couldn’t wait to see the guy who had made my friend so happy. But now…after meeting him? I’m not so sure I ever wanna see Manny ever again.

It was a Monday night, which struck me as odd to hold a 21 year old party, but it so happens, that’s the day Maria’s birthday fell under this year. Manny lived in a neighborhood where the streets were named after people, places, and things associated with King Arthur, so at first glance, I thought surely the people who lived on magical streets would be magical themselves. But Manny was anything but magical. He was creepy.

Walking into the house, everywhere you looked, there were clowns! On the shelves, the walls, everywhere! It made me wonder who their decorator was? The Barnum & Bailey Brothers? I wasn’t really freaked, since clowns have never really bothered me, but just the fact that they were a factor in the decorating design was a little odd. I tried to look beyond the clowns and tried to feign interest in a framed print. Guess I wouldn’t be stealing anything. According to Manny, the picture was done by John Wayne. Who knew that the infamous cowboy actor painted too? But I think the bigger question is…why?

I went to the kitchen to get a drink and was greeted with even more horrifying decor. There were magnetic strips all along the three walls in the kitchen and hanging from the magnetic strips were knives - carving, pairing, filets, and cleavers, hanging like little, tiny swords ready to be used by little, tiny pirates. Well, actually, they were used to cut the red velvet birthday cake, Manny made for Maria. Yes…red velvet cake. Who makes red velvet for a birthday? Confetti, I understand, but red velvet? The party got even weirder when one of Manny’s friends asked him where is folks were and all Manny said was, “They’re not here.” I thought that meant they had moved on, you know, to the other side, but when his friend pushed for further details and Manny said, “They’re gone somewhere,” I wondered if his parents were maybe, forced to the other side.

Something was up and so I called one of the best investigators I knew. My friend Madelaine. Madelaine had a reputation for being able to locate anyone in the greater Tucson area and find out at least three secrets from their past. I knew she was a force to be reckoned with, which is why I asked her to research Manny. She, of course, thought I was blowing the weird mannerisms of Manny’s way overboard. So I had to do my own research. Google.com helped me learn that John Wayne never painted sad clowns. But John Wayne Gacy, AKA The Killer Clown did. Yeah. How convenient of Manny to leave off the name “Gacy,” when talking about the art in his home. That, plus the collection of kitchen knives and red velvet cake, which was probably made by human blood. And that weird thing he said about his parents about being “gone”? Who says things like that?!

I didn’t know what to do. I mean, really, how do you tell someone that their fellow co-worker, classmate and lover, loves a psycho killer clown? I’ve seen enough horror movies to know that it’s the friend who finds out who the real killer is that gets killed off first. And speaking of horror movies, I just got a text from Maria who just now asked me if I wanted to go to the movies with her and Manny. He wants to see Halloween…for the fifth time! I’ve already seen it, so I know it’s an OK-movie, but five times?! Come on! Am I the only one who sees the signs?!

it's a mad, mad, mad, mad friendship

Ok, so maybe it wasn’t exactly the end of an era, because the other week, I saw Colette. I know. I guess living an entire city away, just isn’t far enough for us to actually say goodbye. I’m still not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but it is what it is. And it’s not like it’s my fault that I saw her again. I was invited. Colette’s mom called me up, one fine morning, and asked if I wanted to drive up with her and Monette, Colette’s younger sister, to see Colette. I didn’t wanna say, “No,” because I thought that would be considered rude, so I went along for the ride. Along with about half of Tucson. Who knew Colette was missed by so many?

After we got to Phoenix and caught up with each other, we found ourselves just sitting around, in Colette’s new apartment, wondering what to do next. It was weird. I mean, I know the point of the visit was to visit with Colette, but how much could a person miss another person after only being away for a week? That’s when I suggested we go to a party. After all, it was the weekend before school, so surely there were a few kegs floating around the city, just waiting to be pumped. An hour later, we were at the party of Colette’s fellow classmates. That’s when we met Jason.

Jason was from our side of the tracks, meaning he came up from Tucson too. He had just moved to Tucson at the beginning of the summer and was still learning his way around Arizona. He wasn’t really all that interesting, I’ll admit, but I think he was just nervous being in another new city and not really knowing anyone. I was just about to leave to get my second cup of Jungle Juice when Jason said something that made my ears perked.

Every year, towards the end of the summer, 93.7 KRQ, a local radio station in town, holds a contest where the winner wins a $10,000 shopping spree at the mall. Jason was that winner. He bought an iPhone, DVD’s, designer sunglasses, a whole ton of stuff. He even got $2,000 more in gift cards to be spent at random apparel shops! Ugh…$12,000 given to someone who wasn’t even born and raised here! And the worst part of it all? Jason cant shop at the mall because none of the clothes fit him. More proof that God does have a cruel sense of humor.

So here was a guy with an extra $2000 and he couldn’t spend it. I swear, at that moment in time, I had dollar signs flashing in my eyes, like the screen of a coin slot machine in Las Vegas. I wanted that $2000 shopping spree. After all, if Jason couldn’t spend the money, then why couldn’t I? I mean, wasn’t I the one who wanted to go out to a party? Wasn’t I the one who had initiated conversation with Justin?

I made sure to get Jason’s phone number before I left the party and Phoenix. I knew I had to take advantage of the fact that I had a home advantage above all those Phoenixians at the party who may have overheard Jason tell me that he had $2000 laying around in gift cards. For the next week and a half, I had a new friend. I invited Jason to the movies, to a party, to everywhere. Some of my friends, the ones who weren’t at the party, couldn’t understand why I was “courting him”, but they didn’t understand that there was $2,000 here at stake. And I was gonna try and do whatever it took to get my hands on those gift cards. Apparently, everyone that went to the party had the same goal in mind.

It seemed I wasn’t the only one who heard Jason’s story that night. I found out Colette was just as textually active as I was. She even sent Jason a “Welcome to Arizona” gift basket. It was sneaky and vindictive and the worst part of it all? Jason actually liked it! I’m in competition with an entire group of people who are supposed to be my friends. Why cant they just let me enjoy $2,000 in peace? Which is where you guys, my fellow blogosphere friends, come in hand. I need some ideas on how to outwit and outplay my friends/competition. And don’t worry…I’ll cut you in for a little somethin’-somethin’.

grease is the word

Every few years or so, a movie comes out and 20 - 30 minutes, you realize you are watching an instant classic. Like Grease, for example. It’s got everything you could ask for …underage drinking, teen pregnancy scare, singers who can't act, actors who can't sing, and a plot so corny it should have its own husk. Which is why when I heard that there would be a sing-a-long playing at The Loft, I knew I had to go!

Sadly though, no one wanted to go with me. It’s almost as if they were embarrassed to be seen among fans dressed up like the characters, singing all the songs and dancing the hand jive in the aisles. But lucky for me, there was one friend, whose life motto was, “I may not be able to sing, but I sure can do one helluva ‘Hopelessly Devoted to You!”

Friday night, Hadassah and I made our way to The Loft, with little bottles of alcohol and wine stuffed in our pockets. We weren’t dressed as the characters, since we figured it would be more fun to watch gay men dress up as tough guys in leather jackets and perform synchronized dance moves in the aisles while singing their hearts out to Olivia Newton John's ballad. Instead, it was the lesbians who dressed up, which really wasn’t as fun, since none of them could sing or dance. But it was still fun just seeing the whole overgrown gang on the big screen with little yellow words all along the bottom.

After the movie there was a Q & A with three of the characters from the movie; Edd Byrnes (Vince Fontaine), Annette Charles (Cha-Cha DiGregorio) and Eddie Deezen (Eugene Felnic), which couldn’t have been more awesome. What wasn’t awesome was the fact that time has been totally cruel to Edd Byrnes. And judging by the fact that he was charging $25 for his 1996 biography, which sells on eBay for about $2.99, time obviously hasn’t been kind to his mentality. Time was, however, kind to Eddie, who I swear looks exactly the same and to his costar, Annette. Oh, Annette…

She was actually one of main reasons for going there. Ever since I can remember, I always liked Cha Cha, which isn’t really all that shocking since I’ve always adored troubled characters at a very young age. Like Ernie, Miss Piggy, Cruella De Vil. I mean, who didn’t wonder what a coat made out of puppies would feel like? And who doesn’t love the character of Cha Cha, the best dancer at St. Bernadette’s with the worst reputation and her hot tranny looks?

It was such a surreal moment walking up to that stage and that cheap card table and know that I was standing in the presence of cult cinema royalty. And it was even more cooler to know that Cha Cha was now a professor at some college in L.A. teaching communications, which is totally my field of expertise…or at least will be once I finish school. By the end of the night, I got the scarf Cha Cha threw out into the crowd, an autograph, and I got to do the cha cha with Cha Cha. I’d show pictures, but my “Hopelessly Devoted” friend was hopelessly passed out on one of the theater’s red velvet seats. And even though I didn’t get to ride that infamous Grease Lightening into that malt shop in the sky, it was still one heck of a womp bop a looma, a womp bam boom night.